#paul is about to devour you

[javelinbk]

Paul McCartney with his camera in Southend-on-Sea, England, in December of 1963. From Paul’s book ‘1964: Eyes of the Storm’ in an Airmail article written by Michael Lindsay-Hogg

[recluselecter]

Jealousy

Leto Atreides x Ex-Wife! Reader

pairings: Leto Atreides x Ex-wife! Reader summery: When y/n spends the night of Leto's inauguration party with another man, he can't help dragging her away. warnings: uses she:her pronouns, mother! reader, jealous Leto, possessive Leto, Non-canon compliant, choking, breeding, cunnilingus mention, voyeuristic if you squint REAL hard. Words: 1.7k

Y/n’s hips were guided grotesquely against a stranger's crotch, drunken babbling tumbling from his lips. The wine in her glass had been spilt and emptied long ago, the red liquid having stained her dress. She didn’t care. She kept her eyes on the new Emperor, hair perfectly styled, beard immaculately trimmed, suit crisp and void of Arrakkis’ sand. She hadn’t seen him since they lived there. After Paul gained the title of Emperor for his father, Leto disappeared, taking Paul and their daughter. This was six months ago. As his coffee eyes burned into her skin, she thought of how he’d avoided seeing her as much as possible, passing their child to her through servants. Now though, he couldn’t avoid her. And it was killing him. She looked perfect, the stain on her dress adding to the gorgeous mess that was Y/n.

Leto Atreides hated her for it.

He stormed up to her, snatching her arm and pulling her away from the stranger.

“What the fuck, Leto!” She yelled over the hustle and bustle of the inauguration party. Leto dragged her through the halls of his new palace, opened a door, and shoved her in. When Y/n observed the room around her, she realized it was a very fancy bathroom.

Y/n glared at Leto. The wine on her dress was her fourth glass, and, gauging by the way she was swaying, she was wasted. Leto looked down at her as rage rose in both of their chests.

“You need to go home,” he stated.

“Why do you care what I do?” She snapped.

“I care that my ex-wife is fucked up in a ballroom of a house that isn’t hers.” The Duke took a dangerous step toward her, his own drink spurring him on. “I care that the bitch I’m forced to call the mother of my child is grinding on random men.”

“Oh my god!” She laughed. “I only call you when it’s late, Duke Atreides. You think I give two shits about your jealousy?” Her words struck a nerve in him as she slurred them out. “I only care about you when you’re fucking my brains out.”

He snapped. Leto’s hands slammed against the counter, his body shoving hers against the extravagant sink. She gasped, legs automatically falling open around him. He loomed over her, rage seething through him. His knuckles were white from his grip on the sink, barely holding himself together. He thought the expensive porcelain would crack under his palms as he leaned closer to his ex-wife. With inches between them, he knew she’d try to kiss him. His plan was dependent on it. Like clockwork, she angled her head up, her lips grazing his before his hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her back. She huffed as he scowled at her, but it was turned into a yelp when he forced her to turn around, bending her over the sink by her neck. He tilted his head at her in the mirror where she glared at him. He didn’t break eye contact as he hiked up her skirt, baring her panties to him. The red fabric matched her dress and her now blushing cheeks.

Leto’s hands snaked around her hips, pulling her back against his clothed erection. She hummed lightly as her hips rolled against him, pulling a small groan from his throat. He leaned forward, whispering in her ear as he tore her panties. “You’re a little slut, you know that?” He leaned back again, nearly salivating at the sight of her bare before him. “No better than a cheap whore.” Her cunt was glistening and had Leto resisting the urge to kneel before her and devour her. His mouth watered for the taste of her, having laid between her legs until the hot Arrakkis sun rose in the sky many times. That was long ago, before he was Emperor. Before he divorced her. For a man who prided himself on his independence as Emperor, he knelt quite often for the woman who vexed him. 

She writhed against the sink as he let his fingertips trail lightly around her thighs, avoiding the place she actually wanted him. He pinned her legs to the porcelain, stopping all movement while he teased her. He leaned forward once more, growling in her ear. “You want this?” He let his middle finger enter her just a little, making her cry out in her desperate haze. Y/n nodded vigorously, and for once, Leto complied. He shoved one finger inside her to the knuckle, groaning at how tightly she gripped him. A curse slipped from his tongue, already weak at the knees. Leto Atreides was–and had been for years–wrapped around her finger. Should she ask him to kneel, he would kneel. He desperately hid it from her, but he knew deep inside just how far his devotion went. If she told him to take a knife to the throat, he would enthusiastically if it meant pleasing her.

Leto moved quickly, adding another right before he knew she’d be ready. After decades of bedding her, he knew her body like his own, and her squeak made him twitch in his trousers. He pumped his fingers into her pussy at a cruel pace, too fast to ignore the pleasure, but too slow to get off. She whimpered and cried under him like a pathetic little kitten, palming at his forearms to get him to stop. He bit her neck as he used his free hand to unbuckle his belt. He ripped it from his trousers and unbuttoned the damned pants. Y/n started to protest when his fingers slipped from her wet cunt, but went silent quickly when she looked in the mirror to find him indulging himself, his fingers in his mouth. As he tasted her, he slid his boxers down his hips. She watched hungrily as more of his body was revealed to her. His cock sprung free proudly, and she found herself staring. He grabbed himself, moaning when he slid his hand from the tip to the base, the way she did when she used to pleasure him. His wrist twisted just once before he slid back down to the base, teeth grit as he watched his ex-wife in the mirror. For a moment both were mesmerized by the other. The Emperor found himself admiring her skin and her eyes before he snapped out of it, anger coming back. 

She seemed to have the same epiphany as he lined himself up with her. He slid into her easily, and she tightened around him as he entered. He fell forward, holding himself up over her shaking body. He cussed as he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming himself back in. Y/n cried out under him as he set a brutal pace, one hand slipping to her hip.

“Fuck-!” She whined, pressing her face to the counter to cool it.

“Hands on the mirror, baby.” he gritted out. She obeyed, hands slamming against the mirror and providing more stability to the pair.

A knock hit the door, making Y/n jump. She began to stand up, but Leto shoved her back down by the back of her neck, boot slamming against the door to stop it from opening. “GO THE FUCK AWAY!” He snarled. His hips didn’t stop thrusting relentlessly into her as the intruder spoke through the door.

“Emperor Atreides, you must give your speech!”

Leto ignored him, speeding up. Y/n shrieked, legs shaking as he fucked her. His hand slipped to her thigh, forcing it up on the counter and allowing him deeper. He braced himself over her, moaning into her shoulder.

“Show me how much you missed me, baby.” He grunted. She whined under him, brain not working properly. “Do I need to tell you what you already know?” he demanded breathlessly. Y/n gasped as Leto’s hand buried in her hair, yanking her up against his body with his arm around her throat. The mirror loomed in front of her. Leto studied her tear-stained face, her mascara running as he refused to stop moving. She watched his cock disappear into her weeping pussy, her face bright red. “Look how good you take it.” He groaned, watching as his cock reappeared each time, shining with her arousal. Lewd noises filled the bathroom as he ravaged her, as he claimed her.“You’re mine, remember?” he spoke, his voice low and rough in her ear. “This body is mine. This cunt is mine.” Y/n nodded, hands clinging to his arm. “Other men don’t get the privilege of what is mine.” She gasped as his arm tightened around her throat, just barely choking her. 

“Yours.” She moaned out. Leto fought the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth. He groaned as his stomach tensed, his orgasm coming fast. Y/n clung to him as she came, crying out his name.

“That’s it, darling. Come on, let it out.” He grunted, arm moving from her throat to her waist to hold her up when her legs gave out. Her eyes rolled back, brain numb from the wine and his cock. Seeing her stupid made him snap, moaning as he came deep inside her. She whimpered in his arms, shaking. He rode out his high, groaning into her neck until he came down. He let her down slowly, letting her brace herself on the sink before pulling himself out of her.

He didn’t bother tucking himself away, not until he watched his cum seep from her pussy. As it did, he ran his fingers through it, scooping it back into her and shoving his fingers as deep as they’d go. She cried out, oversensitive. Leto hushed her, running his hand over her back and kissing her cheek.

“I know, my love,” He hummed, still fingering his cum back inside her. “But you know the rules.” Y/n nodded, gaining some feeling back in her legs as he slid his fingers from her. He licked each one individually, savoring the taste of the pair mixed together. His tongue slid over his own skin meticulously as he used his other hand to tuck himself away, refastening his belt.

Leto looked for Y/n’s panties, but only found the scrap of what he’d ruined. Shit. They were going to have to do a raincheck on the inauguration speech. Especially with her current state. Leto gently lifted her into his arms after pulling her dress over her. His past lover automatically snuggled into his neck, arms around him. Emperor Atreides smiled as he planned their escape.

[gingerhastoomanyobsessions]

the lords in black are so interesting to me because. they’re so us. we’re watching the citizens of hatchetfield suffer for our own entertainment just as much as they are. we’re their accomplices in all of it

pokotho made hatchetfield into a musical because musicals are entertaining. and we ate that shit up! it’s soooo fun watching a little man scramble as the world around him bursts into song. the musical genre is satirized because pokey knows how the genre conventions work just as well as we do. we like watching musicals so much that black friday and npmd are musicals, too, even though they don’t revolve around pokotho’s plans as much as tgwdlm. we want them to sing. pokotho does too.

bliklotep is the audience and the audience is bliklotep. trail to oregon calls the audience “the watcher with one thousand eyes” and that’s not all, in watcher world blinky seems to be able to see through the eyes of anyone and everyone who loves spectacle. he wants to see the characters go through angst because WE love angst. it’s fun to watch alice and bill express their buried frustrations. blinky wants it to end in bloodshed because he loves tragedy, and let’s face it, so do we. it’s like that one post about how hamlet is aware of the audience and is angry that we don’t do anything to intervene because we want to see how it plays out. personally, I think blinky could have stopped the woodwards if he really wanted (he’s an elder god, after all) but alice shooting him shifted the narrative so that the emotional payoff would be more fulfilling if they escaped. and blinky loves a good story.

t’noy karaxis has blorbos. we joke about it, but that’s really what it is, isn’t it? he’s the fan who watches the movie again and again and again and again to see his favorite character’s dramatic death scene. he’s the guy who writes and reads angst fics by the hundreds because he likes to see his faves cry. he’s the hatchetfield enjoyer who’s on the edge of their seat waiting to see how ted kicks the bucket this time. the bastard’s box is pretty much just an ao3 account filled with whump and hurt no comfort. he’s sadistic AND he genuinely adores ted, because we fans are often cruelest to the characters we love the most. he puts ted through character growth— the realization that his life went the way it did because of his own mistakes, his inability to be vulnerable with jenny before it was too late— and he does that by writing a 56-chapter angst fic that’s still updating to this day

nibblenephim is the fan who voraciously devours every scrap of content that a creator produces and demands more, more, more. let’s face it, the fandom will never let starkid rest until we see this story through to its end. and then someone will demand a sequel series. nibbly is hungry because we will never stop yearning for more stories. he’s simple because that desire itself is simple— as humans, we need creativity like we need air to breathe. nibbly wants more because we want more. and we will never be satiated.

wiggog y’rath is the ruler and the king because he’s the self-inserting writer. I think jon matteson plays paul *and* wiggly for a reason— wiggly is the only lord in black to be played by the same actor in every single show, and that actor also plays the protagonist of tgwdlm. wiggly wants to be the protagonist. he tries to force himself into the human world of hatchetfield because he wants to participate, dammit! he wants to be the bestest ruler that the earth has ever seen! everyone has to love him because he’s going to be their bestest fwiend! when he appears in human form he’s gonna be the prom king! he’s the ebony dark’ness dementia raven way of the hatchetfield multiverse. he wants every human character to bend to his whims and to love him and to put him at the tippy-top of planet earth because he’s the writer and the writer’s main character, you fuckheads, and he can make whatever story he wants, whether the other characters like it or not! if you’ve ever written a self-insert story? congratulations! you’ve been wiggog y’rath.

and the funny thing? I don’t think the lords know that they, too, are as fictional as anyone else in hatchetfield. maybe blinky knows— he sees through the audience’s eyes, after all— but I don’t think the others do. if they did, maybe they’d be a little less tyrannical. a little bit nicer.

but then the starkid writers wouldn’t have much of a story to tell, would they?

[crazyk-imagine]

How they feel when they find out you're their Imprint Headcanon

A/N: I was bored and now everyone has a Twilight Christmas gift!

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Embry

Shocked but excited to have found his imprint (especially after seeing Sam and Emily), was not expecting it to be the town mean girl but when you two are together, your total sweetheart which throws off the guys except Paul (he's the same way)

Quil

Happy that's it someone he knows, even if you two haven't talked in a few years (he always knew you two were meant to be). The pack was happy when he finally quit his moping about how much he missed you and considered himself lucky to ask you out

Jared

Thrown off when it wasn't the one girl who showed an interest in him since freshman year but once he got to know you, he knew the fates never messed up and you two were meant to be together

Paul

Never wanted an imprint but when he heard you defending him and the pack, he knew you two were meant to be, kind of like the next generations Emily and Sam (Quil and Colin like to joke around and tell him when you're not around)

Jacob

Dude was downright flabbergasted when he imprinted a year after shifting and it wasn't on his favorite (person and human), Bella. Once he got to know you, he was happy he didn't end up with her (she comes with too much drama while you two are drama free)

Seth

Never admitted out loud but after watching Emily and Sam plus Jake and Renesme together, it really made him want to find his imprint and then he found you and he was so happy, everyone jokes and says he acted like an excited puppy

Leah

Never wanted an imprint especially after the whole thing with her cousin and ex but after almost dying because she denied the imprint and worked on getting to know you, she found herself wondering how she could ever be without you

Sam

Wasn't expecting to meet you so soon after he shifted and was introduced to the supernatural world (and came to believe in the legends he was told for so long), but thinks meeting you was a secret blessing because you can calm him

Brady

Didn't know what to expect after hearing brief details about imprints, but boy was he floored when he met you and then you asked him out, he nearly passed out on the spot (the pack doesn't let him forget about it)

Collin

Knew he was going to meet his imprint at some point but was not expecting it to happen while he was out getting groceries to replace what he and the pack had devoured from Emily's and then you wind up going to his alpha's place too, boy nearly lost his mind

[puzzlekinq]

pls write anything for edward ily

using this as an excuse to post horny eddie headcanons >:3 (i love you too!!)

edward nashton x gn reader nsfw headcanons

amab reader inclusive !!

cw: pegging, power dynamics, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, jealousy, possessive behavior.

—

♡ okay first off. its 3 inches soft, 5 inches hard, pink tip, very thick. stretches you out very nicely.

♡ frequently jerks off. (insert paul dano chronic masturbater image) he has to beat his meat at least a couple times a day. plus i think he'd wake up with morning wood constantly. he has to crank one out as quick as he can if he doesnt want to be late for work, or else hes going in public with a hard on. (he's done it before and it was agony. its your fault he was hard. what have you done)

♡ he would never tell a single soul what kind of porn he watches. but i will, because im the one writing this post

♡ hes embarrassed about how much he enjoys the idea of you pegging him if ya dont have the necessary bits. the first video he watched of someone absolutely railing a guys ass, he got so painfully hard in an instant. ended up not being able to keep himself quiet as he furiously stroked his throbbing dick while he clamped his hand over his mouth for some sort of noise control.

♡ the first time he tried to fuck his own ass was a challenge. yes, his fingers sufficed, they were long enough to reach the right spot, but he didnt know lube was necessary (inexperienced virgin moment) so he just stuck them in dry, and that along with the pain of stretching himself open made for an unpleasant insertion. but he eventually got the hang of it and shot a massive load all over his stomach in like three minutes.

♡ huge praise kink. i'd say he has more of a thing for being praised than degraded, although he likes both. nobody has said a kind word to him in his life, rarely even a simple "thank you". he needs you to tell him hes good, that hes doing so well taking your strap, devouring your cunt, sucking your cock- anything. he just wants to hear that hes doing a good job, and that someone thinks positively of him for once, in a non-sexual context as well.

♡ but he also enjoys when youre a little mean to him in the bedroom, of course. he fucking loves being manhandled, choked, slapped, spit on, or having his dick or ass used just for your pleasure.

♡ LOVES EATING PUSSY!!!! the taste, the smell, the slick and cum all over his face while he grinds against the mattress, getting off to your moans- its all so incredibly hot to him. he'll literally beg to eat you out.

♡ loves sucking dick too!!! he loves taking your cock as far down his throat as he can, usually ending up gagging on it, but hes trying his best. and you know, practice makes perfect, and god, does he love practicing on you. your groans as you push his head down further onto your dick is enough to make him cream his pants. loves when you cum all over his face!!!! he prefers tasting you though.

♡ will cum too fast if he doesnt control himself, and thats why he'll edge himself for as long as you need. the overstimulation from edging feels so fucking good to him, so he really doesnt mind at all if chasing your orgasm takes a while. he gets so drunk off fucking you, he could spend the entire day rutting into your slick warmth.

♡ he can simulate that fantasy by letting you cockwarm him all night, or while hes doing paperwork, or just when youre cuddling on the couch. he cant get enough of being inside of you, he always wants more.

♡ sometimes he'll have to pull out of you and squeeze the base of his cock while he takes slow breaths to stop himself from cumming, his bottom lip crushed painfully between his teeth as sweat drips from his forehead, eyes squeezed shut while he lets out several high pitched whimpers at every exhale. its a pretty sight.

♡ hes veryyy vocal. even if he tried to be quiet he cannot shut up to save his life. has to at least whisper frantic, slurred praises into your ear about how good you feel, how beautiful/handsome/amazing you are, and how you take his cock so well like your holes were made to fit him inside of you, like a puzzle piece- his way of putting it into words.

♡ you were the missing piece in his life for so long, being inside of you is the closest he'll ever get to becoming one with a devine being such as you. he truly does worship you.

♡ hes even louder when hes close, rambling about how bad he wants to fill your tight little hole with his cum, and how good you feel milking his cock.

♡ he loves to edge you as much as he does to himself. your desperate pleads and whines for release, the release that is in his power to take away from you, gives him a blissful feeling of control. he'll make you beg for him to keep fucking you with his fingers, stroking your dick- whatever it would be, he wants to hear you cry for him. he thinks youre so lovely when you cry.

♡ he can be mean about it too. sometimes he'll listen and keep pleasuring you, but goes agonizingly slow, just to hear you beg for it harder, faster, just to make your pretty eyes gloss over with tears. he'll just giggle at you looking so pathetic under him, the knowledge of the state you're in being because of what hes doing to you gets him so excited.

♡ wipes away your tears with his thumb while mockingly cooing about how he knows it hurts, but youre just not asking nice enough.

♡ it honestly just gives him a major power trip. he's like this more often when he's in his riddler getup. you know, the thing about being his true self under the mask, no shame, no limits, blah blah.

♡ not to say he cant be submissive when hes the riddler. because you can totally make him drop the scary, dominant act in like 2 seconds. hes not as tough as he feels in the costume.

♡ but if you let him indulge in his heightened ego he'll make sure you cant even stand up for a couple hours. he got too sillygoofy (wrecked ur guts with his dick) sorry

♡ he's so easy to turn on. it's he really just you being you that gets him so worked up. woke up to your sleepy, angelic self cuddled up next to him? horny. you gave him a hug that lingered for too long? horny. youre wearing his jacket that looks adorably big on you? MEGA HORNY.

♡ he just likes when you wear his clothes in general. he'll take any opportunity he can to offer you his clothes. he thinks you look really cute and hot in them and it gets him all flustered.

♡ he cant pick between chest, ass, or thighs. all of them are so good to him. his head between your thighs, or shoved in your chest with his tongue lapping at your nipples, or having his palm full of the plush flesh of your ass while he fucks you from behind- its all so heavenly to him.

♡ hes a tummy guy too. if you have a chubbier tummy he'll go SO nuts over it. he needs to squeeze your love handles or he'll die. he loves tummy rolls too!! he is GOING to drool over your body no matter what size or shape you are.

♡ speaking of your tummy, he likes having his hand on your stomach while he fucks you. its like a reminder of how deep inside of you he is. he loves having you full of him.

♡ loves the idea of breeding you and getting you pregnant, but if you cant, having you full of his cum is still his way of reassuring himself that you belong to him.

♡ hes very possessive when it comes to you. youre the one good thing hes ever had, and hes not letting you go. ever. and he lets you know that with the way he repeats the word "mine" like a mantra against your love bite covered neck.

♡ he gets extremely jealous easily, and the best way to make him feel better is to let him bury himself inside of you and mark up your body to alleviate his insecurities. he'll leave bruises and hickeys in very noticeable spots, and be like "oops, sorry 🥺" but hes absolutely not. he did it on purpose as his way of telling all of gotham "fuck you, theyre mine."

—

oki doki im gonna stop there or this post is gonna be way too long . i have lots of Thoughts about this guy bfgdudhdh i hope this is like. good. or decent

[prettypinkporkchop]

Could you pleaseee do a Paul x reader where reader is like super pregnant and hungry all the time and eats the most random stuff and the pack makes fun of her until Paul gets fed up and snaps at them?

Thank you! I love your writing🖤♥️

Emily places the chocolate dipped pickles in front of you. It's the snack you asked for. Everyone else around the table is eating sandwiches and chips. Paul is sitting next to you and smiles down at your plate.

"The boy is hungry for some chocolate, huh?" Paul brings a hand down to your big big bump.

You place your hand on his and smile at him. "Whatever baby wants I have to eat it." You giggle.

"That looks DISGUSTING!" Jared snorts.

Kim slaps his hand. "Hush." She demands.

He instantly straightens up and nods.

You chuckle at him and then lift a pickle and DEVOUR! The dinner was good! After eating your pickles, you topped it off with a toasted sandwich. Mhmmm!

You and Paul settle into bed. You lay in your body pillow for pregnant peeps. Your belly is in cloud heaven. Paul softly rubs your back, making circles. You hum in peace and fall into slumber.

----

You walk inside the Uley house. You take small steps and keep a hand on your stomach. You make it at the table and sit down. Emily is also sitting at the table. The wolves are training outside. You huff out a breath and relax as best as you can.

"Sweet girl, you hungry?" Emily grabs your wrist.

"Yes. Always." You giggle.

"What's the baby boy want right now?" She asks, standing up and going to the fridge.

You think for a moment. But, then you know. "Emily, do you have croissants? Oh! And chocolate syrup?"

"Mhmm."

"Can I have three of them with eggs and chocolate syrup on the eggs." The baby kicks your side and you hiss. "I hear ya, son. I think he's excited about this." You laugh.

Emily laughs and starts making your food. "Tell him to give the waitress just a few minutes."

You keep conversation with Emily while she makes your food. The pack walks inside, and they're all still too hyper after all of that training. It's like they're never worn out! They take their seats, and Sam walks to Emily, kissing her cheek. Paul sits beside you and grabs your knee.

"How was it out there?" You look at Paul.

"Wonderful. Thanks for asking." Embry winks.

"Sorry, boys! I don't have your food ready. Baby comes first." She says sternly, pointing at them.

They all nod their heads and mumble, "Yes ma'am."

Paul kisses your cheek and then grabs your chin and presses his lips on yours. "How's momma?" He places his forehead on yours.

"Mm, wonderful. Thanks for asking." You copy Embry.

"Hey, hey. Don't steal my lines, man. They're copyrighted." He laughs.

Emily walks up to the table and places your food in front of you! It smells so freaking good. The croissants and eggs and chocolate syrup all over it.

"Eugh." Quil says.

"Your son's weird for liking this stuff." Jared looks at Paul.

"No, the worst one is movie night when she freaking ate pizza dipped in pickle juice with syrup on it." Embry gags.

You sigh in annoyance. Your feelings aren't hurt because you know that they don't get it. You just want them to shut up about it for once. But before you can say something, Paul's on it.

He slams his hands on the table, which makes everyone jump. He stands out of the chair. "Guys, shut the fuck up! Seriously. You wish you could have the power of a woman and carry life." He yells.

They all have wide eyes and stare at him.

"If you continue with your bullshit, I will hurt all of you. Leave my girl alone. Now." He demands.

Sam hisses in the background. "He should've been alpha." He chuckles.

You awkwardly sit there and then slowly smile. "Cool. May I eat now?" You look at all of the guys.

They nod their heads, ashamed.

Emily set their plates in front of them. "You're all immature. Let the woman take care of her baby. If you continue, Paul has every right to bite you. Also, no more lunches from me."

They all gasp.

"Sam!" Quil says.

Sam raises his hands up. "Shouldn't have been dicks."

[starleska]

can we talk about the brilliant execution of Dot and Bubble's big reveal!!!

i am still absolutely gobsmacked by what a well-written episode Dot and Bubble is. startling, disarming, confrontational, and tremendously impactful. and holy shit i really really want to talk about how excellent the 'twist' (which really should've been obvious in retrospect 😭 was done):

as a white person it took me about ten minutes to clock that Lindy's friend group were a nightmare Aryan Tupperware Party collective: all white, all blue-eyed, and even Gothic Paul was dressed in blues and whites, with no black at all. but you know how i responded to that? mentally i went 'oh i'm sure it's nothing!' and shoved it aside. and i think it is exactly that insidious tendency to ignore, normalise, and validate overt and covert racism that the episode does such a tremendous job of tackling! everything in the episode gives us the lore we need to understand Lindy and the people of Finetime are white supremacists. Lindy's disgusted face and immediate blocking of The Doctor versus the amount of time she spends with Ruby. Lindy's shock at the Doctor and Ruby occupying the same room implying segregation on the Homeworld. Lindy calling the Doctor and Ruby 'criminals' not for being in the Bubble, but for breaking segregation. Lindy using Ricky September, a white influencer, to calm herself down not just from the monsters, but from interacting with a Black person. the tradwife aesthetic of the Finetime residents making a comeback in real-life right-wing racist circles. ugh, there's so much and it was all right in our faces!! yet many of us who aren't POC had the privilege of going through the episode baffled and uncomfortable, without being able to put a finger on why until the final bit of the episode. doesn't that tell us how quickly and easily we've all taken to ignoring both micro and macroaggressions? that we needed talk of being 'contaminated', improper use of the word 'voodoo', and Lindy straight up telling the Doctor that face-to-face contact was unacceptable, to understand they're white supremacists? oh my God 😭😭 what a genius play, to make Lindy so detestable from the start. she's an arrogant, vain, self-absorbed, moronic, uncompromising, traitorous bitch...and by layering that abhorrent personality and then giving us the reveal of her white supremacy, there is no argument even the most wishy-washy of people could have re: their awful views. Lindy and her friends are revolting racists who are so wrapped up in their own echo-chamber 'bubble' that they would genuinely rather be devoured alive than challenge their own narrow, bigoted views. i'm still blown away by the power of Ncuti's final scene. the disbelief, the frustration, the sadness and the fury...and yet the Doctor still tries to save them against all odds. i think the most common response to this episode was 'The Doctor should have gone all Time Lord Victorious on them', and you're right - he should have! but doing that would've affirmed the beliefs of the real-life racists viewers. the Doctor responding not with violence or righteous vengeance is a very deliberate writing choice: we are supposed to come away feeling revolted that he needed to behave that way, to almost be supplicant to the white supremacists. because that is the real-life view of so many people who don't even view themselves as racist: Black people need to 'perform' to a higher standard, than white people just to be considered worthy of respect. the more i watch it, the more i'm convinced this is the best episode of the whole season, and one of the best Doctor Who episodes we've ever had. we were taken off-guard by having an episode overtly about racism set in the future rather than the past, because our tendency is to assume equality is a natural consequence of becoming technologically advanced. this clearly isn't the case, and Dot and Bubble is a masterclass in confronting racism head-on rather than dancing around it for the comfort of white viewers. just. aaargh!!!! absolutely amazing 🔥🔥🔥

[thethirdfrogbrother]

Some Lost Boys incorrect quotes because I'm bored!!

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Waitress: So,what will you be having today?

Marko: I want to devour the unborn!!

Dwayne: Eggs. He just wants eggs, please.

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Paul: You know, I really relate to mosquitos.

Michael: Because you also suck blood?

Paul: No, because whenever I try to land on David, he also slaps me and tries to squash me.

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Marko: How about this year for Christmas, instead of kissing under the mistletoe, we have to fight whoever is under it?

David: No, what the fuck?

Paul: Mistlefoe.

David: Please do not encourage him...

Dwayne: Wait...we celebrate Christmas?

[necrotic-nephilim]

I’m gonna be honest I didn’t realize the new 52 messed with Kon that much till I read your post and now I can’t get over the potential. I’m a Tim/Kon girly at heart so I would devour anything you write exploring the 52 vs typical Kon. Also Time being in a clone sandwich is 👌.

the new-52 messed Kon up SO bad it's ridiculous. like, to the point i would personally argue he's a completely unrelated character to pre-Flashpoint/Rebirth Kon. his personality, his suit, his origin, all different. the only real similarities are the name and powerset. and even New-52!Kon's powers are slightly different from pre-Flashpoint!Kon. New-52!Kon is a clone of a future version of Jon Lane Kent, cloned by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. to provide genetic material to Jon Lane Kent, whose body was not handling being half human/half Kryptonian well, it was a whole thing. New-52!Kon is also where we get the infamous "Kon-El means 'abomination of the house of El' and Kara basically named him a slur in Kryptonian culture" tidbit, because that is the only time that's canon. (originally Kon-El was a name gifted by Clark to accept Kon as his family way back in the 90s) he also never went by Conner Kent. New-52!Kon just straight up didn't have any real human identity or connections, outside of being very close to Tim and some Titans.

the very TLDR of Kon's history is: during post-Crisis/pre-Flashpoint, a clone called Superboy is created by CADMUS. at first, he's considered to be a clone of a dude named Paul Westfield and is not Kryptonian whatsoever, he was simply made to look like Superman and only has Tactile Telekinesis as a power. then, it was made canon that actually he was a clone of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent, but Lex hid this fact and slowly, Kon developed more Kryptonian powers. he's given the name Kon-El by Clark, and is taken in by the Kents, getting the name Conner Kent. then Flashpoint happens, we get the New-52, and we're given the above version of Kon-El, who is a clone of Jon Lane Kent, created by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. who has mostly very strong telekinesis powers and some Kryptonian powers. he's with the Titans for a bit, then at the end of the New-52, he kills some aliens and feels bad about it so he decides to fuck off and is never seen again, it's presumed he's dead but never confirmed. then Rebirth happens and DC makes Jon Kent the current Superboy, we get Supersons and all that, and it's assumed that no version of Kon-El exists. just at all. he's not around whatsoever, Jon is our only Superboy. *but* in 2019, we get a new Young Justice run and the pre-Flashpoint Kon-El is back, and we're given the explanation of: Kon got accidentally teleported to this alternate realm called Gemworld and then Flashpoint happened, and since that was a Crisis Event that changed the timeline, the poor lad got *erased* from the timeline, causing most people to *not fucking remember him* and for him to remember a timeline that no longer exists. some of the Young Justice team vaguely remember him, Ma and Pa Kent remember him, but notably, Clark *does not remember him*. it's not an issue of "Clark ignored Kon in favor of Jon" it's an issue of "Kon was erased from the timeline and didn't exist for years bc he was stuck in Gemworld and Clark just doesn't remember Kon or Kon's timeline" which to me, is far more tragic but i digress. since then, Kon has been back and is present in most significant Superfamily runs, with his own recent mini-series, Superboy: Man of Tomorrow. (which was very good btw)

so basically: the New-52 fucked Kon up so bad they wrote him out of comics for years and then brought back the pre-Flashpoint version, but never *explicitly* killed the New-52 version off. so hypothetically, it's possible that there are currently two characters existing in the DC universe named Kon-El who have been Superboy. and like i said above, one of New-52!Kon's only real significant relationships was with Tim, it was the only thing the New-52 managed to get right about Superboy, his closeness to Tim. they have a *lot* of moments that read incredibly queer. and ofc, it's just outright confirmed in Dark Crisis: Young Justice that Tim had a crush on pre-Flashpoint!Kon at some point. so while comics are intent on pretending New-52!Kon doesn't exist, i am intent on putting Tim in a clone sandwich.

because i do think it's fun to play with Tim having genuine feelings and potentially a relationship with both of them. and the fucked up nature of him not fully *remembering* his relationship with pre-Flashpoint!Kon (which is a canon thing, in YJ(2019) Tim has vague memories of Kon he's struggling to piece together and understand why he cares about this guy he doesn't recognize so much) and how frustrating that is for Tim. he knows he loves Kon, but it's all foggy besides that. and so it's even *more* fucked up if Tim dated New-52!Kon before he got emo and ran off into the unknown. obviously in canon no one has told current Kon about New-52!Kon bc comics are doing the good ol' tried and true of "sweep that shit under the rug" but for fanfic, i think it's fun to ask the question of: would anyone *tell* Kon? especially Tim? who now remembers dating both versions of them? would he admit to Kon that briefly, he had another Kon? how would Tim cope with that and move on? personality wise, they could not be more different. they dress and act and look different. they're not the same person, but there's certainly a questionable factor of Tim's dating history including two Kon-Els.

the idea i've had for a while is Tim slowly starting to date pre-Flashpoint!Kon again. it feels familiar and like home. and Tim has grieved and accepted that wherever New-52!Kon is, he doesn't want to come home, he didn't love TIm enough to stay and try. so Tim takes the Kon he has, and genuinely has a happy relationship. like for once, life is good and things almost make sense for Tim. but then, of course, New-52!Kon comes back. he decides he wants to try again and he finds Tim. only to find well. he's been replaced. and technically, he's been replaced with the *original* that he didn't even know *existed*. and if being a clone is bad enough, that just makes it a hundred times worse. because imagine knowing you're actually the second Kon-El your boyfriend who you never *technically* broke up with fell in love with. that's gotta give you some kind of complex.

so i think it's fun if both Kons try to step back and let the other Kon date Tim. both of them have reasons to feel like the "replacement" or "fake" Kon, and it makes them incredibly awkward with each other. do they count as the same person? bc they definitely don't *feel* like the same person to each other, but with weird timeline stuff, who can really say. them settling on an awkward throuple that's really meant to be Tim just dating them both but somehow they end up dating each other too is so fun for me. they both feel like imposters to the Superboy name but are so deeply in love with Tim Drake, it's the one thing truly connecting them. and then of course, Tim feels bad in that somehow, he's betraying both of them for having feelings for the other. but they make it work, with a lot of awkward angst and miscommunication. i just think it'd be fun. very difficult to write to get all the weird timeline nuances down in a way that's understandable in a fanfic (bc you can't just. infodump like i did on this post) but doable. also difficult to tag, because even though i argue these are two different characters, i'm pretty sure Ao3 groups them under the same character tag. so it'd be difficult to convey it's not *really* as selfcest-y as it would imply. comics, man. DC will never acknowledge New-52!Kon again, and he's admittedly a terrible adaptation of Kon-El, but. i think he was sort of neat in his own right and i'd *love* for DC to just inexplicably bring him back and make the current Kon deal with the consequences of all that. and them make Tim kiss them both. obviously.

[purplepeach333]

The Prey

Pairing: Feyd x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: you are the adopted daughter of house Atriedes, stranded on Arrakis with your mother and brother. Paul starts seeing visions of war and chaos whilst you are trying to aid your brother in finding a way out of the bloodshed you get word of the arrival of the Emperor and house Harkooen. Paul goes to your mother for help. She claims there is only one way that war will be avoided which is for you to accept the long waited betrothal offer so that they can keep peace.

~Part 1~

I dart into the cramped cave my mother occupies, feeling frantic and almost sick

“How could you! Even just knowing that you were considering giving me away to those monsters is absolutely unbelievable!” I breathe out, anger coating my features as I pace around the small space a few times.

Jessica sits there in her usual place within the shadows almost unaware of my presence, meditating for the hundredth time that day. I stop pacing and turn to her looking for a sign that she is paying any kind of attention. Away from the blazing desert sun the air feeling cool as It fills my lungs, not a sound but my unsteady breath

“Mother please, you can’t just ignore me and expect me to accept it” I cry out angrily, searching for any kind of response.

After a horribly long couple minutes of silence Jessica opens her eyes glancing up at me with a vacant expression

“It has been decided, I have already sent word to the Baron.” She replies her voice empty and emotionless matching the bland expression on her face

“What!.” I stand there, my body frozen dread rushing through me. “Y-you can’t do that.” I try to protest my voice coming out in a desperate whisper. “They wouldn’t agree to it. Not now”

Feeling my world collapse around me, anything I could have ever wanted or wished for gone, impossible, absolutely unattainable I’ll be a prisoner.

“They will come to fetch you tomorrow, then all shall be well for Paul to continue on his path” she finishes turning away from me

Hearing her words I feel something within me snap “Paul! Is that seriously all you care about!” I shout in frustration. Seeing her so uninterested in what I have to say I step towards her. I'd been training day and night my whole life to perfect my control over the voice, without hesitation I look down at my mother and use her own training against her “look at me.” I command

The energy in the room changes almost immediately as Jessica stands from her spot glaring at me “how dare you.” She demands her voice echoing on the thick stone walls around us as bits of sand and rock fall from above.

“You have no say in the matter it has already been decided.” she continues stepping towards me “with the Harkoonens satisfied and out of the way Paul will be able to do what he must and with you wed to the Na-baron we will have a hand to control them.” Without another word she strides past me out into the light.

I stand there stunned. Even if Paul achieves his goal how will I gain control over the Harkooens they’d kill me if they ever saw me as a threat.

—

Stepping out into the harsh, burning heat from the cool, comforting shade, I realise that this is actually happening in just a few short hours. I will be forced to leave my family and the beautifully harsh desert to go willingly with the Harkooens. I’ve only ever read about them and their way of life and what I’ve read isn’t very comforting, but being merely a pawn in a large,unfair game of chess I have little to no say against the kings and knights ranking well above me no matter how much I plead and beg.

“y/n do you have nothing better to wear?” Jessica comments from behind me devoured by her layers of elegant fabrics

“No mother, this is all I have.” I pat down my fremen borrowed clothes “I doubt it matters-“

“Of course it matters, you must make a exceptional first impression” she corrects me immediately “you wouldn’t want to disappoint your betrothed”

I peer out into the never ending sea of sand, wishing it would swallow me whole and put me out of my misery.

[wolfpackss]

Only yours. (1)

Paul Lahote x you.

A/N: ohmygod, this took way too long and I’m in love with it. I don’t know what it is but this man makes me feral. Also I get a lot of requests about some very extreme kinks and just another reminder that I don’t do that shit. Sorry, not sorry. That being said, love you guys and thank you so much! P.s this is a part one of Paul and y/n journey to .. penetration..

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation

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“You don’t have to…” your breath catches as his hand slides between your thighs, rubbing the ache there. “I know I don’t have to, I want to” leaning in to kiss you as his fingers begin to move against your clit.

“So wet for me” he murmurs against your lips as you lean your head back against the wall. He slides one of your arms up to his shoulder. “Hold on to me,” he says and slides a finger to your opening. Your eyes fly open, and you see his eyes intent on you.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” you nod and he slides a finger inside of you. It’s foreign, but it feels good. He slides his finger in and out of you, slowly, watching to make sure you’re okay. When he slides the second finger in, you feel the stretch. It’s painful for a moment before his fingers begin to work their magic and the heel of his hand presses against your clit.

You arch into his hand, your eyes falling closed as the ache in your core becomes a need. The need is growing, pushing you closer to the edge. “Faster,” you beg, wanting him, needing him to give your body what it’s begging for.

“Look at me, y/n” he says, and you open your eyes, his fingers beginning to move faster. You can feel your body responding, pushing you closer to the edge. “Fuck Paul…” you pant. Your hands gripping his shoulders as you feel your legs getting weak.

His low growl of approval rumbles through your body, pushing you closer to the brink. “I love hearing you say my name like that, all breathy and needy for me.”

He leans down, running his nose down your throat, his tongue leaving a trail of hot desire as he moves to your ear.

“Cum for me” he says and he hooks his fingers inside you, rubbing a spot you didn’t know could make you feel better.

“Paul!” You scream his name as your body begins contracting around his fingers. One arm wraps around you, holding you to him as his fingers continue to stroke you, keeping you at this heightened state, your body jerking as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

When he finally slides his fingers out of you, he runs his nose up your neck to your mouth, before kissing you gently. When he steps back, he holds your gaze as he takes the fingers he has inside of you and slides them into his mouth. His eyes darken en he growls low.

“Fucking delicious,” he says, licking his fingers clean. “Next time, I think I’ll use my mouth to make you cum. Then I can taste you, devour you to my heart’s content.” He leans forward, his nose rubbing against yours. You can smell your scent on his lips. “Would you like that, princess?” He smirks as you nod your head.

“Good. I know I will too,” he says kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. When he finally pulls away, you can still see the desire in his eyes. “We need to get ready. We’re already going to be late. But someday soon, I’m going to take my time with you, y/n. Explore this body to my heart’s content, kiss and taste every spot on your body”.

You nod and finish getting ready to go to Sam and Emily’s house. When you arrive, Sam looks at you. “Paul, y/n, nice of you to join us” he teases. “I’d apologize for being late but, sorry not sorry.” Paul says, making you blush and confirming to everyone around what you were doing that caused you to be late. You hear the chuckles from the people around.

When you look at Paul, he’s already smiling at you. It’s a warm smile, but you can feel and see the love in him.

Yeah Paul, I’m only yours.

[lick-me-lennon22]

Kid!Beatles X Kid!Reader Headcanons

(thank you to anon for this fun request!! 💞)

John

you and John are known troublemakers in school, often getting scolded for your antics in class and mischief during recess

you're notorious for pulling pranks on your classmates, from tacks on chairs to fake bugs in desk drawers

you bond over your love for doodling, filling notebooks with silly drawings and caricatures of your teachers (and sometimes defacing school property)

despite your friendship, you're fierce rivals on the soccer field, competing against one another in epic matches with bragging rights on the line

you share a secret hideout in the schoolyard where you spend your breaks together, plotting imaginary adventures and sharing your wildest dreams

you have frequent sleepovers consisting of ruthless pillow fights and devious prank calls to every number in the phonebook

Paul

you and Paul spend recess making up silly songs together, singing at the top of your lungs and giggling uncontrollably

after school, you make your way towards your secret treehouse in Paul's backyard to share secrets and imaginary tales, hidden away from the rest of the world

when the weather is nice, you like to go on bike rides around the neighborhood, exploring hidden trails and pretending to be intrepid explorers on a quest for adventure

Paul will sometimes take you to the park with him to birdwatch, armed with binoculars and identification books

you love building things together, crafting beautiful flower crowns and constructing makeshift forts from pillows and blankets

you spend your weekends watching old monster movies and sci-fi classics, munching on popcorn and debating over which film is the best

George

being two of the quieter students in class, you share a special unspoken bond, often writing messages in the margins of your notebooks and sliding it to the edge of your desk for the other to read

speaking of, the two of you are avid readers, spending hours in the school library devouring nonfiction books about dinosaurs, science, and space

George takes on you epic imaginary adventures, pretending to be astronauts exploring distant planets or knights fighting dragons

you like to go on nature walks together, collecting leaves to make rubbings and flowers to press in your scrapbooks

you spend the weekends exploring in the woods behind your houses, searching for hidden treasures and making friends with the creatures that inhabit the forest

Ringo

you're a pair of class clowns, always cracking jokes and performing silly skits to make your classmates laugh during boring lessons

Ringo shares with you his love for percussion, showing you how to use instruments like air guitars and cardboard drums to perform for your friends at lunchtime

the two of you spend countless afternoons playing soccer with your friends in the neighborhood streets, Ringo showcasing his impressive footwork as you cheer him on from the sidelines (and even join in when you're feeling bold)

you're avid comic book fans, spending hours together trading your favorite issues and debating over who would win in a battle between your favorite superheroes

on temperate evenings you'll pitch a tent in Ringo's backyard and stay up all night telling ghost stories, roasting marshmallows over a makeshift campfire, and counting the stars

[daughterofthemuse]

Thoughts on 'Wrath of the Triple Goddess'

General Thoughts

This book was a lot of fun.

Nope was the cutest ever

Hecate's house is WILD. The knockers? The aesthetic choices? The BATHROOMS? She 1000% committed to the bit

Some ppl have said that the recent Riordanverse books have had themes. (Roughly speaking,) 'The Sun and the Star' was about accepting yourself and moving through trauma, and 'Chalice of the Gods' was about growing up, aging and embracing the changes that come with it (kinda ironic for focusing on a character who is known for turning 17 every year). I thought 'Wrath of the Triple Goddess' could have been about grief and family, but it's actually abt choices and regrets. Bc ofc the book abt Ἑκάτη (Hecate), the goddess of crossroads, would be abt choices.

Fanart I want to see

The Halloween costumes Percy, Grove & Annabeth wore

Human!Grover, Owl-a-beth & Octo-Percy

The Campers' Halloween costumes

Page-by-page notes that I took (with quotes)

I'm always careful not to look at my mom's screen while she's writing, because a) I know it makes her nervous, b) the floating words make me queasy, and c) I can't help wondering if she's writing a character based on me. Maybe that sounds self-centered, but the idea of anybody writing a book about me makes me super paranoid. (pg 16)

Bud, I'm sorry, but it's a decade and a half too late for that

She knew exactly what I was saying, even if Dave and Hana didn't. "She can't do all your homework for you, dude," Hana said. "Yeah, she has to do our homework," Dave said. "Ugh, you two," Annabeth said, but she gave them a smile. "Okay, Jackson, I can spare you a few minutes, Come on." She hauled me up and led me out of the library, Paul and Hana whispering behind our backs, (pg 24)

Oh look, surprise name change! (/j)

Then his eyes drifted up to the gargoyles on the roof. "Oh, wow." "I know, spooky," Annabeth agreed. Grover scratched his goatee. "I was going to say the one on the left looks like my Aunt Helena. But guess that's the same thing." (pg 32)

Grover's Aunt Helena is probably a harpy / nasty wind Spirit

I'd barely been able to master numbers and colors in Spanish, even with my friend Leo Valdez as a tutor. (pg 35)

Rick is making himself plotholes. Percy is being tutored in Spanish by the missing Leo. It's only Chapter 4!

We had some trouble on Third Avenue when Hecuba decided attack a Lil Zeus Greek food cart, but I managed to pull her off before she killed the cook or devoured his meat supply. Dude wasn't too happy. He yelled something in Greek at me--maybe Please control your rhinoceros--but I couldn't be too mad at Hecuba. For one thing, the food smelled good. For another, anything labeled Zeus sent me into attack mode, too. (pg 64)

Lil Zeus Greek food cart? a) Percy should have understood more of the Greek dude's language, unless he did actually think the hellhound was a rhino and b) fair on attacking it

I took out Riptide. With the tip of the blade, I etched a message on the sidewalk: Went to Gramercy. That was another trick I'd only learned in the last month. One day when I was bored, sitting on a sidewalk while my mom shopped for clothes for her first author signing, I discovered that Riptide could sketch glowing lines on asphalt that no regular mortals could see. The markings lasted about three hours before fading away--less if it rained. It made me wonder why I'd never seen Celestial bronze graffiti around from other demigods. (pg 68)

Riptide can write on the pavement?

He couldn’t have been more than six weeks old. "You want another treat?" I asked him. "Nope!" he barked, which apparently meant Yes, please, I'll take the whole bag. I couldn't help but smile. "Is that your name? Nope?" He tilted his head, maybe thinking about it. "Nope!" "Okay, then that's what I'll call you." He crawled right into my lap. He was heavy--like fifty pounds--and floppy, with ridiculously oversize paws that told me he was going to be a rhino-size hellhound someday. I scratched behind his ears and kept feeding him treats, letting him get used to the sound of my voice. (pg 87)

Percy’s getting a Hellhound puppy that can say nope????

The man who was eating a late breakfast at Dr. Sharma's desk was definitely not Dr. Sharma. His dark hair and beard were flecked with gray. He wore a rumpled tweed jacket, tie, and dress shirt, with a flannel blanket over his lap. His old-fashioned wheel-chair had hand-pushed steel wheels and well-worn black leather armrests. He held a half-eaten bagel in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in other. I registered all these details with perfect clarity, but somehow, I still did not recognize him. (pg 99)

WHAT IS CHIRON DOING AT PERCY’S SCHOOL?

"The Adventures of Mom, Chew Toy, and Alley Boy," Annabeth mused. (pg 115)

pffft! And look, an Oxford comma!

My friend Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, also had the ability. He'd used it once to take me Christmas shopping in Florence. (Long story.) (pg 133)

Nico took Percy Christmas shopping in Florence? I need this story.

“Okay,” I said. “Maybe pack isn’t the right word. I don’t know why Hecate turned you into a hellhound. Gods are weird. I have a friend whose dad once turned her into a tree. Maybe Hecate saved you the only way she knew how. It’s not perfect, but it’s still love.” Hecuba gazed at the ocean—a view she’d probably seen thousands of times when she was a mortal. She’d watched the Greek ships anchor off that coast, ready for war. She’d watched her children die in battle on that rocky beach before the walls of her doomed city. (pg 137)

Is this book abt grief & family?

I frowned. "I didn't figure you for a nightclub guy." "Are you kidding? I can hoof-boogie with the best of them! I've still got that wedding-dress outfit from the Sea of Monsters, too." He sighed. "Maybe someday." (pg 142)

Grover still has his wedding dress?

Pracktical forcery and Potionf for Beginnyng Uferf (pg 144)

Oh look, it's that old-timey font where 'S' is really tall and skinny and kinda looks like an 'f'!

Under this collection was a brass plaque engraved with WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN. I lifted the top of the display case. I picked up a pair of blue-framed glasses that were snapped in half at the bridge. They were the same ones I'd seen in my vision of the child pedaling away from the manse in terror. On the right stem, the initials SEJ were monogrammed in gold. I felt like I had shadow-traveled into a block of ice. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. SEJ. I knew those initials. (pg 145)

SEJ, Sally's initials?

I didn't realize that when he'd said ground himself, he'd meant literally cover himself with the ground. He sat down in a flower bed and started to heap leaves and dirt over his legs. (pg 147) ... Two more tunneled through the leaves and skittered up Grover's legs. Within a minute, there were dozens, maybe hundreds. Honestly, I had no idea. I never had to count squirrels in numbers that high before Grover's torso disappeared under a tidal wave of chittering fur and twitching bushy tails. Somewhere in the mix of brown and gray, I spotted one very large black rat, who quickly disappeared in the sea of its squirrely comrades. (pg 148)

This grounding thing is weird... Could it be a Pan thing?

As he nibbled his cake, I said, "Okay. Tell me." He shrugged listlessly. "It's just... grounding myself like that? It's pretty powerful magic. I can only do it because I'm a Cloven Elder." Grover was too modest. He rarely talked about it, but after the Battle of Manhattan, he'd been promoted to the council of the three most important satyrs in the world, which in my mind made him an elite boss. "It's dangerous?" I guessed. "Oh... nothing I'd worry about," he said. "Not a big deal. It's just when I do that, when I connect with nature on that level, there's always a small chance..." "Yes?" He nibbled more cake. "That I might dissolve into nothing." (pg 151)

Yep, it's a Pan thing. And oh, the grounding thing is like Nico at the end of BoO... okay. This is great /s

And Grover seemed to enjoy being called Cloven Elder. My thoughts started rambling, as they do. I wondered if I should call him CE for short. Did that mean before he became a Cloven Elder he was Grover BCE? This is how my mind works. Welcome to the chaos. (pg 156)

Grover BCE, YES!

The name of the place glittered in pearly white over the door: AEAEA. I guess they'd spent all their money on the storefront decorations and hadn't been able to afford any consonants for their sign. "What is it?" Grover asked. "Not sure," I said. "The name of that place mean anything to you?" Grover tried to pronounce it. "It looks like something Hephaestus might scream when he drops a hammer on his foot." (pg 158)

Αἰαία (Aeaea)? Κίρκη (Circe)????

"My name is Filomena," she said, her jaw clenched. "Aeaea was my home island. But you don't even remember, do you?" (pg 161)

Dude doesn't remember the last time someone recognized him and accused him of destroying their home, does he?

A noxious purple fog started to rise around us. I recovered my senses, yelled, "Aeaea!" (because it was on my mind) and blasted the potion fog right back at Filomena. "Ack!" she complained, now speckled head to toe in magical whatever-it-was. "How dare you!" (pg 162)

Poison manipulation again????

"I take it you didn’t recognize the naiads?" "From where?" Grover asked. "You weren't with us," Annabeth told him. "You were stuck in a Cyclops's cave at the time." Grover shivered. "The Sea of Monsters." "Yep. The naiads are from the island of Aeaea." I rubbed my sore neck. "I think I would've remembered a name like Aeaea." Annabeth considered that. "Actually, you're right. I don't thínk anyone called it that when we were there. It's another name for Circe's Island." (pg 184) ... "Circe had four main handmaidens," Annabeth said. "The Aeaean nymphs. They were responsible for preparing her potions. I guess when the pirates burned down C.C.'s Spa--" "The naiads came to Manhattan," Grover finished. "And set up competing perfume shops. As one does." (pg 185)

I knew they were from Αἰαία! And Lore drop!

Whenever Annabeth joined the chat, the odds of us doing something idiotic went way down. The odds were never zero, mind you, because I was still in the mix. (pg 186)

"Annabeth joined the chat..." Bro, why. Why did you use that piece of slang?

With the help of one of the costume people, Annabeth had done her hair and makeup like it had been on Circe's Island. She looked incredible, but you don't have to take my word for it. The costume person's exact reaction was "You look incredible." Then she turned to Grover and me and said "Now, these two are are a challenge." We were dressed as Annabeth's servants/bodyguards/loyal gladiators? I'm not even sure, but we weren't rocking the look very well. Grover wore a gladiator's breastplate and a leather kilt sort of of thing, with a big plastic sword at his side. I got dressed like a retiarius--one of those Colosseum fighters with the weighted nets and the tridents. The trident seemed a little on the nose for me, but it wasn't my biggest complaint. My "armor" was basically an oversize loincloth with a thick leather belt, sandals, and a weird shield-sleeve thing on my left arm that reminded me of a pizza pan. This meant I would basically be walking around Manhattan in late October in my underwear. Annabeth added a big helmet with a faceplate so nobody would recognize me unless they literally got up in my grill. (pg 187)

I need art of these costumes

23. We Find the Lair of Evil Perfume

Annabeth is doing a ton of amazing work this chapter!

Annabeth responded, "WHOOOO!" (pg 206)

Annabeth, daughter of the Owl Goddess, hooted. It only took her 24 books and 5 years

I raised my hands--except I didn't have hands anymore. Where my arms used to be were eight thick purple tentacles lined with pink suction cups. One tentacle was curled around Riptide. I was so shocked I loosened my hold, letting the blade drop. "Oh.." I wanted to throw up. No offense to octopuses. I've had some great conversations with octopuses. But I didn't want to have their tentacles. My new appendages felt wet and slimy. Powerful muscles rippled under the skin. The suckers clasped and unclasped, smelling the air, searching for something to grip. "This is bad." (pg 207)

Well octo-Percy is... interesting

He was staring down at his legs and weeping. Where his furry goat hindquarters had been, there was bare skin, forward-articulating knees, and instead of hooves... feet. Five-toed feet not too different from mine. "Human," he sniffled. "That's the worst kind of beast!" (pg 207 & 208)

Oh, poor Grover. Also... very interesting "humans are the worst kind of beast"

Annabeth turned her head 180 degrees and shrieked at the nymph. "AWK!" (pg 208)

180-degree head turn from Annabeth!

Grover shuffed awkwardly toward Daedra. "How do you walk on these? They're so tender! Ouch. Ouch. Ouch." (pg 209)

We don't normally walk barefoot. And I want art of human!Grover

I saw a young woman in tattered brown robes. She carried a leather pack over one shoulder, loaded with medicinal plants, vials, salves, and scrolls. It was her life's work--all she could salvage when the Colossians chased her out of their city. She struggled up a steep mountain path, occasionally stopping to grip her stomach, crying out in pain. Tears streaked her face, smearing the kohl around her eyes so she appeared to have a black mask. (pg 215)

Gale Lore drop? Poor Gale!

I'd been wrong about Hecate. She hadn't turned Gale into a polecat out of jealousy. The reason was worse. She'd empathized. She'd lacked faith that Gale could survive on her magical talents alone. Hecate of all people knew how the world saw witches. She'd pitied Gale, admired her, and yes, maybe even feared her a little, but she could not imagine a mere human succeeding when she, a goddess, had failed. So Gale had to cease being human. (pg 218)

Poor Hecate too. Dam patriarchy & fear of the unknown

And no way did I want to be around when orange goo started dripping through Hades's palace ceiling. I'd met his plumbers. They tended to solve all his problems with fery whips. (pg 219)

The Kindly Ones aren't plumbers, Percy

I'll say it again: thank the gods for Halloween. I doubt any amount of Mist could have hidden Owl-a-beth and Octo-Percy from the curious eyes of mortals as we fled, especially since my tentacles kept slapping passers by for no particular reason. Because it was Halloween, though, most people would think, Wow, those costumes are incredible, and that third guy is fully human! Amazing! (pg 222)

Yeah, Halloween does a lot for hiding mythical stuff. Cuts both ways tho

Annabeth gagged. Her beak opened wide. Her owl eyes got even larger. Her crown feathers stood on end like blades. She brought her hands to her throat—the universal sign for choking. I panicked. Would the Heimlich maneuver work on a half human, half raptor? I only had octopus tentacles, but I hustled behind her and did my best to find her sternum the way my fourth-grade health teacher had taught us. I thrust upward into her diaphragm. COUGH! An owl pellet the size of a melon shot from her throat and bounced off the opposite wall. She doubled over, breathing heavily. When she straightened again, she was normal Annabeth—human face, human hair with the scent of her usual apple shampoo. (pg 225)

Coughing that up must've been painful. And I'm pretty sure the Heimlich maneuver isn't recommended anymore

Grover seemed to follow my thoughts. “Tomorrow is Halloween. There’s no way three people can fix this mansion before Hecate gets back. (pg 230)

Just ask your friends to help! They're coming for the party, just ask them to arrive early too

I nodded. “I don’t know what happened exactly, but if we’re going to try rebuilding this place with the help of ghosts, then we need to figure it out. Which means I need to talk to SEJ. Sally Estelle Jackson.” (pg 238)

His mum? Or an ancestor? I'm thinking his mum, but the timing makes me think maybe an ancestor

She smiled wistfully, the way she does when she looks at old photographs. “I haven’t since that day. My family made me wear them because I was seeing things…differently.” “Through the Mist.” She’d always been able to do that. Some rare mortals could, but I’d never considered how hard that would’ve been for her as a kid. “They were just trying to help,” she said. “They were worried. When other kids saw a mounted police officer riding down the street, I saw a pegasus. That kind of thing. We used to live near Gramercy Park West. One day, when I was riding my bike down the street, I saw that mansion, shifting and blending into the buildings around it. Those tombstone walls.” (pg 244)

Interesting... what ppl think of clear-sighted ppl

She swallowed. “Hecate ambushed me! She showed up on Olympus and…well, she asked me what I thought of you. I was shocked! She hadn’t spoken to me since 1914! I—I was desperate to impress her. And foolishly… I said you were quite competent.” “Thanks?” “I panicked! And now, if you fail, that means I failed. Oh, she won’t forgive me a second time.” “I still don’t—Wait.” I’m a little slow on the uptake. But when a puzzle finally starts coming together, I can usually finish it without having to bash too many of the pieces into place. “A second time,” I said. “Nineteen fourteen. That’s the last year Hecate ran her magic school. You were part of that?” (pg 247) She shrugged listlessly. “War. It’s always a war. Our students started taking sides, arguing with one another. It escalated from name-calling to violence to potion-flinging.” “Potion-flinging is bad.” (pg 248)

Ofc WW1 made the school close, and poor Εὐδώρη (Eudora)

I took one more look around the shattered great room. I felt like I was forgetting something important. (pg 258)

Locking the door, I'm pretty sure

Grover and I exchanged a panicked look. If Annabeth was admitting she’d made a mistake, we were in serious trouble. All heroes had fatal flaws. Annabeth’s was pride. She always aimed as high as possible, confident she could go even higher. Most of the time, she was right. But calling for help after one block? The situation had to be desperate for her to swallow her pride like that. Then I remembered why fatal flaws were called fatal. We couldn’t let her get worn-out so soon. She was the only one who could direct the ghosts to rebuild the house properly. “Let me take the torches,” I said. (pg 267)

Annabeth’s fatal flaw is pride, yours is loyalty, Percy. You taking them could go just as badly, with you not passing them to anyone else

My last shot was a miss. Black spots danced in my eyes. I crumpled to my knees, and the torch fell out of my hand. (pg 276)

Oh schist

I knew I’d forgotten something important—again. We’d invited our friends to a Halloween party tonight and never canceled it. You see, kids? Absentmindedness can save your life. The side panel door rolled open and costumed demigods poured out. Connor Stoll led the way, wearing a prisoner’s orange jumpsuit with fake manacles on his ankles and wrists. “Dude, your yard decorations are fire!” “They’re real!” I yelled. “Real ghosts!” More demigods emerged from the van—Clovis from the Morpheus cabin, wearing a nightgown, nightcap, and slippers, which was not very different from how he usually lounged at camp; Harley from Hephaestus, the youngest of our campers, encased in a Celestial bronze Iron Man suit he’d probably made himself; Valentina Diaz from Aphrodite, dressed in a black 1940s evening gown with white gloves, a broad-brimmed hat, and twenty different strings of pearls around her neck. Valentina scanned the ghostly horde. “Gross. Can we fight them?” “Yes, please!” Annabeth yelled from the porch. Our friends charged into battle. (pg 292)

I said his friends could help. Except they're helping with ghosts ig

And Rick, Clovis is a son of Ὕπνος (Hypnos), we don't have a Μορφεύς (Morpheus) Cabin

The horse freaked out and whinnied, Why am I flying? (pg 297)

Poor police horse

There should be a rule that goddesses can never come home before 8:00 a.m. Hecate blazed into the mansion at exactly 5:32. (pg 304)

Eugh, what a wake-up time

Sometimes folks at camp asked if I avoided eating seafood because I was the son of Poseidon and could talk to fish or whatever. I always answered that no, I ate fish. Have you ever talked to one? They don’t have a lot to say. Mostly it boils down to Are you food? Am I food? Eating them is the only way to answer the question. (pg 319)

We have an answer to the Percy-seafood question. Tho he'll probably be off calamari for a while

Obviously, I don’t consume the smart species like octopuses, dolphins, sharks, and manta rays. (pg 319)

Oh, so no calamari at all. Good to know

[makeitagood0neao3]

Weather Me To Nothing (3/4)

Pairing: Dark!Paul Atreides x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3,881

Summary: Reader is the heir to the throne with an impossible choice to make. Torn between protecting her sisters and finding her way in the universe, will she make the right choice?

Warnings: Dark!Paul Atreides. 18+ only! Explicit sexual content. Arranged Marriage. Non con. See tags for more.

A/N: Thank you for sticking with this fic! Comment and reblogs make me smile. Sobbing as they turn to statues at the bedside, I'm trying not to crush into sand.

Read Part 4

The sun isn’t high yet, but it’s hot anyway. The sun is low on the horizon, the spice on top of the sand shimmers like a sunset over water. You stumbled slightly stepping onto the ramp, prompting your guard to plant you in a chair far from the pilot’s. Feyd-Rautha sits next to you, your Sardaukar pilot flying to the neutral place agreed upon. The vial of poison between your breasts is cool, reminding you of its presence.

You are in a Stillsuit, though you aren’t sure you’ve put it on right. If only your father saw you now, dressed like a local in cling tight material. No beaded bodice, hairline sweaty and already sunburnt.

Here in the desert you will not get a traditional ceremony, no frills or details for you to fuss over. No family in attendance as the both are feuding. Your father had offered to bring Paul to his Flagship to meet you, but he refused, wanting you to be brought to him until the alliance was secured. You are confident that your father is elated at this form of punishment; no fair bride before the empire. Just dumped on a planet at the axis of war.

The pressure of the day is upon you, burning you from inside out. If done correctly, you’ll be back at the Capital by morning and with your sisters for your second wedding ceremony whenever Vladimir deems it to occur.

The Thropper flies over two harvesters and their security detail, spice kicking up from the sand, iridescent in the breeze. The fan blowing toward you from inside glistens in the streams of light. You cough, knowing most of it is in your lungs. Feyd spares you a glance, but you don’t look at him.

It is only when you approach the valley that rests between two large rock formations do you begin to feel the physical effects. Hyper aware of the temperature, the sweat on your brow and all the open space that will make it nearly impossible for you to run from the Fremen. You’re still drowsy from the sleeping pill and try to blind the horizon into focus. How will you escape past the sandworms, the great creatures who will devour you and the sand around?

The Thropper approaches a flat ledge against the rock formation and lands. The propellers shut off and the ramp releases behind you. Feyd reaches over to touch the vial that hangs from your neck before speaking.

Tucking in the vial beneath your suit, you stand. You feel eyes on you, but can’t make anyone out in the shadow. Your guard exits first and you trail behind, the shawl curled around your crown to stop your hair from flying. As you round off the ramp, you catch sight of movement.

By the time you lift your head, there are half a dozen that have joined, out from the shadows. Paul stands at attention in the center, secured in his Stillsuit. The dark curls of his hair swirl in the wind as he watches you. Your movements are stopped when you see the Fremen behind him. The shadows of the rock don’t conceal his age. He’s older than you expect, maybe early twenties.

“You were only supposed to bring one,” Feyd-Rautha’s voice is gruff next to you.

“As was she.” Paul’s voice is confident. About to defend yourself, your mouth gasps before Feyd continues.

“She is a Princess. Her guard does not leave her side.”

“Then why are you here?” Paul’s head tilts to the side, examining.

“To report the success of this ceremony to the Emperor and House Harkonnen who is the govenor over this planet.”

“You won’t be present for it.” This catches you off guard, and surprised, you look to Feyd for explanation. “Only Fremen and those accepted by them are welcome in the seiches. She enters alone.” Your guards remove their swords from their sheaths. The sound of metal swiping against the leather has your spine upright. The Fremen remain relaxed, hands free of any weapons.

“That wasn’t the agreement,” Feyd states as if it will change their minds.

Impatient and light headed, you decide to try and regain control of the situation and step forward. You pull your scarf down off of your head to reveal yourself.

Paul’s face is impassive, not a finch of his lips or clench of his hands to indicate whether he is pleased or not. Perhaps he expected Irulan. Tired of the informalities, you speak, hoping to gain the upper hand again.

“Paul Atreides. I am pleased to see you again. Though I wish it were for better circumstances.”

“Is a marriage ceremony not a joyful occasion?” He half smiles. You know you can’t apologize for this father’s death or the death of his people. That will further implicate your father, though you’re sure he already knows this. You give him a smile instead of a direct reply.

“There must be a place for us to hold this ceremony that accommodates both of us. I have come all this way to wed you, without sisters or my father to give me away. Could we perform the ceremony up here?” You offer, trying to sound like the idea just arrived to you.

“We will be wed in the seitch or not at all.” Paul’s eyes are impossibly blue, his voice is firm, but not cold or lifeless.

You’ve never been in a position where you did not have the upper hand. It is clear none of them are intimidated by these men who could destroy anyone else with a swing of their blades. You are tempted to say no, to refuse this change in the plan. It would mean imminent war, resulting in the extinction of the Fremen and whoever decided to join the war against your father. Your sisters would be caught in the middle. That is too much bloodshed for your soul. You will do what you must.

“Who will communicate the completion of the ceremony to the Empire?” You ask, keeping your tone light.

A woman steps forward from behind two tall, imposing Fremen warriors, her black hair long and pulled away from her face.

“I am Dr. Liet Kynes. The Judge of the Change. The Emperor knows me personally. I will inform your guard once the ceremony is complete.”

She sounds sincere enough and you’ve heard her name before.

“Do you swear my safety?” You ask Paul.

“I swear it with my life,” He gives you a slight smile and you can see the youth in it. He’s only a few years younger than yourself, the violence on Arrakis hasn’t completely stolen his boyish grin.

“I will go with them,” you say, eager to dismiss the tension between the two groups. Your guard makes no move to sheath their weapons or stand at ease. It’s clear to you now, that these two may not be loyal to you, but to Harkonnen command. Feyd turns to face you before dropping his voice so it does not carry over the gusts of wind.

“No-” He begins in Galach, but Paul can probably understand it.

“The union must be valid. We must do this their way. Allow me to go rogue once more. My father will expect this of me.”

Feyd looks down at you, his skull wet from the heat, though the pigments of his skin still a bright white. He is hesitating, you can see the calculations he is running through in his head, weighing the options of just killing Paul here. But that would be sloppy and there are too many witnesses. The Fremen in the shadows could disappear before they were attacked and report this information back. He cannot have any more loose ends.

“Their seitches aren’t big. Memorize your way in and how many Fremen you see. We will meet you here at sunrise.”

“Sundown,” you try to correct.

“No, the Fremen leave their seitches at night when it’s cooler. Sunrise.” He says again.

“The sun is high, Princess, and your Stillsuit is not fitted. You’re losing moisture every moment you spend out here.” Paul’s voice echoes off the rock. You glance down at your suit, it is unbearably hot and dying from dehydration is not what you had in mind for today.

You step around Feyd before turning to him completely, your back to the Fremen. You can’t risk them hearing you in your native tongue, so you speak softly to Feyd in his. His eyes narrow, probably shocked to hear you speaking it, but it’s one of the few words you know. He nods, repeating the word.

Refusing to show these people any fear or doubt, you keep your chin level and walk with purpose. Paul is slightly taller than you remember him, though it’s been years since you’ve seen him.

Paul gestures to your suit before asking, “May I?”

You nod and his eyes float over your body, inspecting the suit. You hold your breath, praying he doesn’t feel the flat vial that hangs from your neck. Paul places his hands on your shoulders before grabbing a strap and tightening it. His hands float to your wrists before pulling each sleeve lower and securing them. His hand grasps your hip, giving the fabric a yank, making you shift on your feet. His attention is briefly over your shoulder, gloating at Feyd-Rautha and your guard. Finally, he kneels and makes a few adjustments at your ankles before standing once again.

“Let’s get moving.” Extending an arm, he gestures for you to follow the warriors that have already begun to enter the narrow opening between the rock.

It takes several steps before you realize the path is declining, the light from the sun only reaching tips of the opening. Senses heightened from the spice in the wind, you try to maintain a steady breath to not overwhelm yourself. You don’t miss how the opening of the path becomes tighter, the warriors in front of you descending in a single line rather than two at a time. Confirmation that you are alone sets in when you hear the Thropper buzz from overhead as it departs, though you expect it will remain close.

Unable to remember when your fear of small enclosures began, you are familiar with the sense of foreboding that spikes your adrenaline. Every step forward towards the shadows is an internal fight to not turn and run out into the open expanse of the Dune.

“I didn’t realize the daughter of the great Shaddam took orders from Harkonnens.” Paul’s voice is low and close behind you. The only sound is of feet shuffling against the dirt and his voice.

“She doesn’t,” You say, haughty. Your next step has your foot sliding, but you recover quickly.

“Feyd-Rautha didn’t seem to respect your decision to come alone.”

You slow and whip your head around at him. “Can you blame him? He is my escort on this planet and has been entrusted by the Emperor himself to see to my safety.” You don’t know why you’re defending the heathen, but you won’t allow anyone to speak to you so brazenly.

“After the ceremony, I will be solely responsible for your safety. You will be an Atreides and the wife of the Mahdi. My people will look after you.”

You believe he’s just saying that, because that’s the expectation. The mutual understanding between wedding houses. You don’t actually expect him or the Fremen to protect you when they’re in the middle of a war against the Harkonnens. If they can offer you up as a pig to slaughter to make them leave, then they’ll do it. Which is why you have to leave before they understand how valuable it is to have you here, in their world.

“How did you know my suit wasn’t fitted?” You call behind you to ease the tension.

“The Fremen will tell you it is because I am the Mahdi. I can sense it’s off.”

“His Stillsuit was perfect the very first time I met him. That’s when I knew he was the Messiah.” Dr. Kynes calls up to you from the back, her tone light and reminiscent.

“Dr. Kynes is Fremen, she was raised in the way,” Paul offers. You didn’t realize she was raised here. Only that she conducted countless research. “You’ll learn soon enough.” It would be impertinent to learn how to fit your suit before leaving before sunrise.

“The Harkonnens have been here for generations and still can’t fit a Stillsuit. A mistake like that could have killed you. It just goes to show that no matter how long you’ve spent in the Dune, not everyone belongs here,” says Dr. Kynes. You can’t tell if its a dig at the Harkonnens or a warning, but she’s not wrong either way. You don’t belong here.

You continue to walk down the path, following Paul now. His companions have gone ahead, disappearing in the turns ahead. It’s become noticeably darker the deeper you descend, the tips of the rock cliffs above casting shadows that cover you. How much deeper will you go?

Paul seems at ease and oddly trusting of you. You are the daughter of the man who ordered his family murdered and yet, he seems to treat you with respect. You can’t unpack this while bordering on a panic attack, you’re just thankful for the distraction.

There’s so much Spice that’s blown in here from gusts of wind hundreds of feet high. It feels like the shimmer in the air is trapped in the alleyway, boxing you in. It hits you harder than you expect. You begin to press your hand to the walls as you pass to stop from swaying. Eyes watering and scratchy, every tear fallen is a loss in moisture to be recirculated by the Stillsuit. You come up to an almost pitch black entrance that must lead underground. The sight has you stumble, clutching the wall still touched with sunlight.

Paul turns around to face you before approaching.

“Princess,” he begins, “breathe. I reacted to the Spice too. It will pass.”

You shake your head, the Spice isn’t the problem, but it is amplifying your panic. You’ve been running on adrenaline since you boarded the Thropper and can’t possibly go into that cave. Is there even a way out? It’s too tight of a space.

Unable to take your eyes off the dark cave, Paul sees your distress and asks what’s wrong.

“I can’t- I can’t go in there,” You force out.

Paul glances behind him as if entering a small, dark space is normal.

“You’re afraid,” he says, but sounds like he’s unsure of what exactly.

“It’s too-” you shake your head, eyes watering now from the fear. You don’t think you can actually say it. It’s been your secret since you were a child. He squares his shoulders, but it’s when his throat bobs that concerns you. You’re unsure if he’s training in using The Voice or not, but don’t want to test his patience. “It’s too small. I can’t go into small spaces. It’s too dark.”

He assess you, leaning back on a heel, more relaxed than he was.

“The path inside is not as narrow as this one. It’s well lit and I will guide you.”

“The ceiling is too low, I know it. What if it collapses?!”

“I have the memories of all Fremen who have lived on Arrakis throughout time. Not a single seitch has ever collapsed. What if I told you there was sunlight inside?”

You look up at him, pure disbelief and distrust on your face.

Paul sighs, the boyish smirk returning. “You must not fear. Fear is the mind killer.” He doesn’t say it to condescend, it’s more in understanding. He extends his hand to yours, closing it over the rock, adding just enough pressure to show you that he’s there. He grabs it and slides it off the wall. You look at him as he pulls you forward, just an inch at a time. He moves slowly, afraid he’ll spook you like the frightened animal you are.

He releases one of your hands and turns forward, but leaves himself open to you behind him. Giving your hand a firm squeeze, he urges you to keep walking. Paul disappears in the darkness until only his hand is left. He gives you another squeeze and you breathe deep, your opposite hand on the wall. You push into it, needing to feel something sturdy.

The praises of his voice are just loud enough for you to hear, encouraging you forward. You’re blinded for a moment in complete darkness, before trusting Paul, trusting the man you have to kill, to lead you deeper. Your eyes adjust quickly and can make out a light above. There is a stone hallway, perfectly lit, thousands of words in the Fremen language written on the walls, the ceiling. You look around, unable to take it all in at once.

Continuing down the hall, it opens into what can only be described as a mountain beneath the sand. The walls and your lungs simultaneously open up, making you you dizzy with how vast and tall the walls are. There are hundreds of people milling about, some pulling carts with the greenest plants you’ve ever seen and others mingle in small groups. In the center of entrance is a vast pool of water, man made, running dozens of feet ahead. Vines wrap around the wide pillars that stretch to the ceiling. As promised, sunlight streams in from above on the vines and water.

No one has noticed to two of you yet, but Paul’s guard waits just ahead.

“Our seiches make the manor in Arrakeen seem small. Does it meet your standards?” He smirks at you, but you know it isn’t a dig at your nobility, but your claustrophobia.

You sheepishly nod, embarrassed to have been so afraid of something so beautiful. And no one knows about this place. This sacred secret only shared by the Fremen and now you, few have witnessed it’s expanse. On the wall behind the pool of water is a mural of a Sand Worm so long it twists down the corridor so large, your father would be envious. How old is this hall? How many generations has it survived?

You continue walking with Paul leading the way. His guard follows, but they seem more at ease down here than they did above. Fremen are beginning to notice you now, heads turning and conversations pause as you walk by. When they see Paul, he all repeat ‘Lisen al Gaib’ and bow before him. To you, they spare no greetings. This would be offensive on the surface, but you aren’t in your world now, but theirs. If they let you pass unnoticed, it will make it easier to escape later.

Paul leads you past the pool of clear water to the other end of the hall. The opening is carved to look like an open mouth with eyes carved into the stone above. Long hair flows out from the sides of the head of the face.

Through this opening is a winding of halls that open into coves with seating all carved into the rock. Artificial light looms from above, creating dim and cozy atmosphere. Some coves have people speaking together in hushed conversation while others are empty. Paul’s pace picks up and soon you arrive at the first of many staircases.

You arrive at a bedroom, a round bed against the far wall. Paul leave you there, striding away with the posture of Duke. The Atreides are known for being proud and his confidence radiates out of him. The door opens and Dr. Kynes enters with a garment in her hand. She lays it on the bed then steps back, allowing you to evaluate it.

It’s a beautiful beaded dress, champagne colored with swirls of gold metallic. The neckline is high with sleeves that trumpet at the wrists. It’s stunning and shines in the warm light above. The beads of the fabric and the swirls of the metallic seem to move like spice on the top layer of sand. Either the sleeping sedative and the spice are muddling your mind or the stress is making you imagine things.

“This dress is ceremonial. Every bride of the Naib in this community has worn this gown. It goes back generations.”

You aren’t sure what to do with that information, but you don’t ask, already overwhelmed.

“The ceremony will take place under the moon. Most of Sietch Tabr will be in attendance.”

“How many is that?” You ask.

“Nearly ten thousand.”

“Ten thousand people?” You ask, still breathless. The estimates from the Harkonnen’s for the entire planet were barely above that.

“Don’t believe everything the Harkonnen’s tell you, Princess.” Dr. Kynes says with a smirk.

She calls to someone outside the door. It opens and a woman enters holding a plate of food followed by another woman with folding linens. “These women are Sayyadina. They’re here to prepare you for the ceremony. You must allow them to follow every step, as tradition dictates.”

You nod and offer a greeting. They raise their heads to look at you, their eyes bright blue and skin covered in Fremen writing. Extremely uneasy at the prospect of being bathed and fed. Like a virgin for sacrifice. Do the Fremen sacrifice? You don’t know, but can’t let your guard down. After picking at the food, you politely ask the women to turn around while you undress before being bathed in the adjoining bathhouse. Quickly, you take off the vial and slip it beneath the mattress, resolving to get it later.

Hours later, you are bathed and dressed in the swirling spice dress, the women with delicate hands and soothing voices pin your hair up before placing the beaded headdress over you. They whisper to each other and seem to be praying over you, but you can’t be sure. You ask them what they’re saying and they tell you as much. Are they lying?

You’re losing energy as the day wears on. Constantly alternating between alert and fatigue when the adrenaline drops. As you sit and wait for the final steps of preparation to be complete, you swear you can see the swirls of metallic on the dress moving. The design over the thighs has you reaching out to touch the fabric. Suspicious, you follow the lines with your fingertip and find a thin layer of spice on your fingertips when you pull your hand away. Rubbing it between your fingers, you feel the smoothness and smell cinnamon as it dissolves into your skin.

You jolt, suddenly alone in your room, but still sitting in the chair. How long have you been alone? Moments before, you recall feeling calm, at peace and still. Now, your heart beats so hard you can feel it pulsing into the soles of your feet, pounding in your ears. So much pounding. Or is that the door?

The door opens and Dr. Kynes stands in a traditional Freman attire, free of her Stillsuit.

“It’s time,” she says, her voice light as she smiles slightly. Surprising yourself, you stand steady on your feet and float to the door.

Read Part 4

[faghubby]

PANTS DOWN (part 3 to caught with her pants down)

I woke next to Stephanie in the morning the smell of sex still lingered in the air. My body ached as I waddled to the bathroom. My ass was raw. We only had about an hour till we had to leave for the airport. I showered. When I got out Stephanie was up.

"Paul we should talk" she said shyly

"Later we need to get going or we will miss our flight" i told her. She dropped it and showered. We made it to the airport alittle late. But had a few minutes to wait before boarding.

"I wanted to tell you" Stephanie started. My eyes darted around. I grasped her hand. With a look in my eyes. She understood and fell silent again. It was a long flight. With a layover and we barely spoke. But held hands almost the whole time. By the time we arrived we had spent the day traveling. We had a early dinner and took a walk on the beach.

"Olivia" Stephanie started again. I didn't want to have this discussion.

"Let's head back to the room" I suggested. Frustrated Stephanie tripped me knocking to the ground as she landed on top of Mr.

"Careful the baby" was my first thought. Her knee pressed into my groin.

"Now we are going to talk about what happened last night" Stephanie told me. I nodded

"I am sorry, Olivia has some kind of spell on me. I know it sounds silly but I just can't say no" Stephanie explained. "She seemed to have it over you last night as well" Stephanie waited for my response

"It was scary and exciting" I admitted. "Prehaps because we haven't in so long" I suggested.

"I fell like I may be a lesbian, but I can't raise this child alone" Stephanie told me. "Well maybe bi" she smiled.

"I have to admit it turned me on when Olivia fucked me" I told her she kissed me.

"Look at us under the spell of a woman with a magnificent cock" Stephanie laughed I laughed with her. We got up and headed to our room. To find Olivia had left us a message.

"I don't want you two getting any ideas that you aren't mine" is all I said.

"You think she means" I swallowed hard

"Yes, I think she means no sex" Stephanie said. We felt like somehow she would know. And went to bed just cuddling. I woke in the morning rested and started to kiss Stephanie she woke and soon we where naked. Bit as I climbed on top of her and slid my cock inside her. I felt Nothing. I fell out after the first thrust. Olivia and the girls with there massive toys had changed her. Queen sized her. My avrage size 5 inch cock felt nothing more then a finger to her. Stephanie felt bad and took me in her mouth but the damage was done I lost my erection. I would never be enough for her again.

"Well you got me still excited" Stephanie told me pulling my head between her legs. Trying to prove I could still please her I devoured her. I was like a mad man. I wanted her to cum harder then ever before. She came hard pressing my head hard as she did grinding me into her. We got up and ready for the day.

"Paul, I found these in my bag" Stephanie said holding up two presents. "They are from Olivia" I nodded and opened the one with my name on it. It was a yellow speedo. With a note.

"I want pics of both of you on a busy beach" it read. Stephanie opened hers. It was a matching yellow bathing suit but one piece made for a pregnant woman. There was also a big strapon dildo and lube. Stephanie's note read "if he won't wear his suit to the beach I want pics of him taking all of your cock everyday" Stephanie laughed at the enormous size of the toy.

"She will demand one" Stephanie told me. We where thousands of miles away and this woman still controlled us. I got dressed in the speedo. But this wasn't a man's suit. It rode up my ass. And had no front pouch. I couldn't go out wearing this. Stephanie looked cute in her new suit. With the big belly. She grabbed my ass.

"OH now I almost hope you refuse to wear it" She giggled. She gave me a robe to wear to the beach. Once there no one paid us any attention. We laid out to get a tan. Rubbing lotion all over each other. Stephanie did my back but then yanked up my suit and rubbed lotion on my ass. Her fingers slid between my ass cheeks and rubbed my hoke as well.

"Someone is enjoying this to much, maybe we are both bi" she giggled. But as the day went by Stephanie pointed out several hot guys on the beach to me. With a smile everytime. It was dinner time by the time we left the beach and I had become comfortable in my bikini bottom. Not even wearing the robe back to the room. We showered together. I again was horny and tried to iniate some type of sex.

"I want to wait, I want to obey Olivia. Don't you at least in some small way think we should" Stephanie said. We sent Olivia the pics of us on the beach. Dinner, dancing, drinks then back to the room Stephanie was definitely in the mood. But she bought me the strapon.

"Use this to fuck me" she pleaded. I agreed she even helped me put it on. I was amazed that after one a minute Stephanie was taking all 12 inches of the toy.as she moaned and cried in pleasure. She had multiple orgasms. It was so amazing I was so excited for her. That as I ground the toy into her my own cock rock hard rubbing again her big belly I shot my load all over her. I must of passed out because the next thing I remember was the sun shining into our room as Stephanie rubbed lube on my ass. Her fingers pushing there way into me. I didn't resist didn't even move.

"Your tan lines look so sexy" Stephanie told me. She spent the next hour teasing and playing with me. Bringing me to the edge and back. She then held up the strapon.

"Show me how you sucked Olivia's big cock" she said. I took it in my mouth it was even thicker the Olivia I thought. Stephanie gave me tips. As she shoved it down my throat making me gag even vomit at one point only to shove it back in. We found an adult store that day and bought more toys. For the next week we fucked and teased each other with them.

Opps posted early not finished..... well keep eye out

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

Regulus black hcs

so hard to do this because i love making fun of him uhhh but ily so here

allergic to EVERYTHING

had a crush on james

had a crush on barty

had a crush on pandora

had a crush on dorcas

(no one liked him back)

(everyone lowk made fun of him)

had a crush on half his teachers

thought evan was a loser so lowk ignored him

evan had a crush on him

curly curly hair

glass skin

can and will throw a fake tantrum

has 197374 journals filled with sad angst poems

got chased around with a knife by sirius

quidditch was his Special Interest and no one in his friend group played

(they came to support him)

(but told him it was so they could fun of him)

hemophiliac

700 vitamin and mineral deficiencies 💯💯

virgin

craziest hear me out list you'll ever hear

doesn't swear

tattletale

very much like orion

likes his father more than his mother

his boggart was sirius

loved loved loved swimming

wouldve LOVED hozier

"name three songs" guy but for extremely popular artists

"you listen to paul mccartney? name three songs."

"is that james taylor? when was his first album released?"

"you say youre a swiftie? name all her songs."

elton john whore

devoured comic books

"you're so mature for your age!" and hes depressed with severe social anxiety

probably wouldve had a drinking problem had he died at a later age

narcissist

transfiguration is his worst subject

history of magic is his best subject

mightve had a crush on binns

we don't talk about it.

sirius' copycat (but he won't admit it)

peek younger brother

left behind by his cousins because he'd go tell everything to his mom

narcissa was his favr cousin but she ignored him after he turned six because he wasnt cute anymore 💔

they got close after sirius ran away