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xthejazzdalorianx · 2 months ago

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Kindred Souls (One-Shot)

pairing(s): Erik (Magneto) Lehnsherr x Telekinetic!Mutant!Female!Reader

warning(s): EXPLICIT SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, angst, SMUT, fluff, yearning, angst, fluff, p in v sex, reverence, and romance. Erik is rude as hell, but he warms up anyway. Oh yea, edging, too.

a/n: credit to my coworker for the title name, but i hope y’all enjoy this one! this would be my second fan fiction that i have ever written so please let me know if you have any tips & tricks or if you would like to see more! <3

word count: 4.1k

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summary: In this story, Erik, struggling with Charles' death and his new role as X-Men leader, faces unresolved feelings for you. Your sudden return after ten years rekindles their deep connection, leading to a heartfelt confrontation about love and regret. The story ends with an intimate reunion that symbolizes healing and growth, as Erik seeks forgiveness and you offer unwavering support, setting the stage for a shared future.

- - - - - - -

It was evening in New York at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and the air was cool and crisp with a hint of winter. The mansion, usually bustling with activity, was eerily quiet since Charles' passing. Outside, the city slept in blissful ignorance of the heavy decisions weighing on Erik's shoulders.

The sky above the mansion was a deep shade of indigo, the street lamps casting a soft golden glow on the surrounding buildings. The bare trees rustled in the crisp breeze, their branches casting long, spindly shadows across the quiet grounds. The mansion itself was a grand, old-fashioned building, its windows dark and silent.

Before he died, Charles had left a will with a profound request: that if anything were to happen to him, Erik would take over as leader of the X-Men and continue their mission to create harmony between humans and mutants. Though Erik wasn't sure if he still believed in this vision, it was something he cared deeply about. Charles had been more than just a friend; he was like a brother. And it was Charles who had seen the depth of Erik's feelings for you.

You were the light that brightened Erik's life, and your absence has left a void that he struggles to fill. The pain of losing you lingers like a shadow, a constant reminder of what once was. He buries his emotions deep inside, masking them with a facade of strength and control, but they never truly go away.

Erik now goes by Magneto, embracing the name as a symbol of power and dominance. It shields him from the world and makes him feel invincible. But at the same time, it creates a barrier that prevents him from facing his own vulnerability. His helmet serves as both a shield from external noise and a cage that keeps him isolated from his own feelings.

- - - - - - -

Sitting in Charles' old wheelchair, its leather worn and creaky under his weight, Magneto stared at his helmet. The metallic surface reflected the dim light of the room as he let out a heavy sigh, conveying the weariness in his soul.

He reached out, his fingertips brushing the cool metal of the helmet. With a flick of his wrist, it rose into the air, spinning slowly before his eyes. The power coursed through him, as natural as breathing, yet it brought him no comfort.

"What would you do, old friend?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper in the empty room. The silence that answered was deafening.

He was facing a harsh reality: he had lost your love and with it, a part of himself. His determination to fight for mutant rights often felt hollow without you by his side. The X-Men, who had once seen him as an enemy, now looked to him for guidance with a mix of suspicion and hope. He couldn't blame them; his actions in the past had been driven by his own relentless pursuit of power and control.

Despite the mistrust and fractured mission, Erik clung to Charles' vision. Though it may have faded over time, he still believed that mutants deserved equality, respect, and a chance at peaceful coexistence with humanity. It was a dream that seemed just as distant as the warmth he once found in your embrace.

Leaning back in the wheelchair, Magneto tried to focus on plans for the X-Men, but his mind kept drifting back to you. The plans seemed insignificant compared to the memories of your laughter and touch. As he attempted to steer his thoughts back towards the future he was trying to build, the weight of his emotions bore down heavily on him. The road ahead felt isolating and uncertain, but for Charles, for the X-Men, and for the hope of a better world, he would continue forward - no matter how shattered his heart may feel.

The door creaked open and shut quietly as you stepped into the room. For a moment, everything seemed frozen in time. It had been ten years since you last laid eyes on each other, and seeing Erik in the dim light of the study felt almost surreal. Your heart raced with uncertainty as you questioned whether this moment was real or simply a figment of your imagination.

- - - - - - -

"Erik?" Your voice was a hesitant whisper filled with a mix of emotions - uncertainty, longing, and the weight of years apart.

Erik's head whipped around upon hearing his name, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his face. For a moment, he thought he must be dreaming, but as he turned to fully face you, the reality of your presence was undeniable. His expression hardened into a mask of controlled stoicism, a defense mechanism honed from years of guarding his heart.

"What are you doing here?" Erik's voice remained steady, but a hint of vulnerability seeped through. "I wanted to be alone, and you have no right to call me that." His frown deepened, his emotions threatening to break through the carefully crafted facade he tried so hard to maintain.

As you laid eyes on him, the tension between you seemed palpable, almost visible in the air. His rigid stance and guarded expression were like a shield, shielding him from the emotions that threatened to break through.

Erik's body language spoke volumes - his stiff posture, the slight tensing of his jaw, the way he avoided making direct eye contact. He seemed to be trying to hold his emotions in check, but his eyes betrayed him, revealing a mix of longing and pain.

"I heard about Charles," you said softly, your heart aching for him. "I came to see how you're doing. The X-Men are worried about you, and I know how much he meant to you..." Your eyes were filled with sadness as you spoke, reaching out for him despite his attempt to push you away. You wanted to offer comfort, but hesitated, unsure of how he would react.

Magneto scoffed at your concern, his face a blend of disbelief and anger. He couldn't help but wonder: Did you truly care about Charles, or was there another reason for your return? What was your true agenda? "Why are you really here?" His voice held a hint of frustration, but beneath it lay a vulnerability he could barely acknowledge.

You were taken aback by his coldness, but took a deep breath before responding. "I'm here for both you and the X-Men, Erik." You paused before correcting yourself, "Magneto." Lowering your gaze briefly before looking back up at him, you continued, "Just because we have history doesn't mean I don't still care about you."

“You walked away,” he spat, his words stinging like a whip. “And now you're not my responsibility anymore.” His tone was harsh and sharp, piercing through your heart, but you knew it was just a mask to hide the pain you had caused him. You could feel the hurt that lingered from your departure, and while you understood his anger, you couldn't help but wonder if he was also struggling with his own unresolved emotions. Was he trying to come to terms with why you had left? Beneath his calm facade, you sensed a tempest of emotions brewing, but you weren't sure if he was ready to confront them.

You took a hesitant step forward, drawn towards the comforting warmth of the fireplace near his desk. He watched you closely, tracking your every move. As you gazed into the crackling flames, you tried to gather your thoughts and find the right words to address the past.

Turning back to face him, your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to speak. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you looked away, unwilling to show him your vulnerability. “I left because I wanted a future with you,” you said softly, barely above a whisper. “I wanted us to have a family together. But then things changed...you started hurting people, Erik. You scared me…” Your voice trailed off as you wrapped your arms around yourself, unable to contain the weight of your emotions any longer.

Erik's expression softened as he placed the helmet on the desk and stood up from Charles' wheelchair. He walked towards you with purpose, his footsteps slow and deliberate. Gently, he lifted your chin to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, liebling," he said, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability.

- - - - - - -

As tears slowly rolled down your cheeks, Erik tenderly brushed them away with a gentle touch. "I wish you had told me," he whispered regretfully. "But I understand now why you left. I thought I was doing what needed to be done..." His voice trailed off as he searched for answers and a connection that he believed was lost forever.

His hand moved to rest against your cheek, and you leaned into it, closing your eyes. Your heart skipped a beat at his presence. "I know...my love," you said softly, filled with tenderness.

Erik's eyes widened as the word "love" fell from your lips. It was a word he hadn't heard in years, and it brought back memories that still haunted him. He struggled to find the right words, his heart racing at the thought of finally admitting his feelings for you. He opened his mouth several times, but no sound came out. After a few moments of silence, he managed to choke out, "Why...now?" He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. "Why are you telling me this now?" Despite the distance and time that had passed since they were together, his love for you had never truly gone away. It had always been there, even amidst his strong dedication to mutant rights.

You were at a loss for words. Your mind was buzzing with thoughts, unsure of what words to form or if you should even say anything at all.

He cautiously stepped closer, closing the gap between you. His familiar scent enveloped you, reminding you of all the memories you had tried so hard to bury. Your heart raced as he reached out, his fingers barely grazing your arm.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he murmured roughly, overcome with emotion.

You fought back tears as best as you could. "I didn't think you'd want to," you whispered.

A shadow of pain passed over his face. "I've regretted that day for years," he admitted. "If I could go back..."

You shook your head, cutting him off. "We can't change the past, Erik. I couldn't stay away any longer," you confessed. "I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you focus on your mission. But then I realized..." You took a deep breath, trying to hold back your emotions. "I realized that life is too short and unpredictable, especially for people like us."

Erik winced at your words. He had been younger then, fueled by his intense hatred towards humanity and the injustices he had endured. He hadn't expected that hatred to overshadow his ability to love, and your words left him struggling to find a response.

You pleaded with him, desperate for a response. Your eyes scanned his face, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he truly felt. Suddenly, you noticed a change in his expression - a fleeting look of desire and vulnerability.

In a rush of emotion, Erik blurted out, "Will you stay with me?" His voice quivered with unspoken worries. "I can't handle losing you again, mein liebe."

You didn’t hesitate to agree to stay. The thought of being apart from him once more was unbearable; you had missed him desperately. Erik never truly believed that you would return to him. He thought you would want nothing to do with him after everything that had happened.

- - - - - - -

As soon as your words left your lips, his heart began to pound and his mind raced out of control. Memories of your love flooded his mind: the feel of your skin, the sound of your voice, the scent of your perfume. They overwhelmed him, filling the space between you with a powerful and bittersweet nostalgia.

Your voice trembled with emotion as you spoke again. "I will never leave you again," you said softly. "My love for you has never faltered. Even after all these years apart, I never moved on." Your words hit him hard, a gut-punch he wasn't expecting. His heart felt like it was about to burst from the intensity of emotions that surged through him. Hearing you declare your love once more was a truth he had struggled to accept himself. Deep down, he had never truly let go of his feelings for you.

He took a shaky breath and gently placed his hand on the back of your neck. You both closed your eyes as he pulled you in closer until your foreheads were touching. “I have never stopped loving you,” he whispered, barely above a murmur. “It was torture when you left…” He swallowed hard, trying to contain the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. All the years apart, battles fought, and loneliness endured came crashing down in that moment.

With a few calming breaths, you both opened your eyes and slowly pulled apart, the closeness still tangible. His gaze held yours, baring his heart in a raw, vulnerable state. "You were my everything," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I didn't realize until now how lost I was without you." He searched your face for any sign of the promised love, hoping against hope that this time would bring something different.

There was an invisible force between you, pulling you together with a magnetic power that could not be resisted. Your eyes remained locked on each other's lips, filled with anticipation and unspoken promises. Then, without hesitation, your lips met in a passionate embrace. As the kiss deepened, years of yearning finally gave way to the storm of emotions between you.

The initial touch of your lips sparked an electric current through him, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Guided by a tender yet commanding force, his hands firmly grasped your hips and drew you closer. A deep hum escaped him as each kiss reignited long-suppressed desires. Amidst the exchange of fervent kisses, you whispered how much you had missed him, soothing his aching heart with every word.

Erik felt another surge of longing as each kiss intensified their shared confessions, drawing them closer with every heated touch. The urgency in their kisses grew more insistent, begging for closeness as he pulled her tighter against him. Unable to wait any longer, he reluctantly broke the embrace and gazed at her pleadingly as she reached for him. In a raw and desperate voice, he whispered, "Please...I need you." There was no room for hesitation in his tone, only an overwhelming urgency that demanded immediate action.

- - - - - - -

As your eyes meet, a silent understanding passes between you. You use your powers to change the room, and the furniture rearranges itself as if by magic. The soft glow of the fireplace reflects off the cozy blankets and plush pillows, inviting you to indulge in the moment.

The room was quickly transformed into a warm and inviting space, the furniture moving under your careful control as you worked together. The blankets and pillows seemed to dance in the air, creating a cozy and intimate nook by the fireplace. The flickering flames cast a soft orange glow, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

Erik led you to a cozy nest of pillows and blankets near the flickering fire, gazing at you with a mix of longing and adoration. He guided you onto the soft surface with gentle movements, his eyes drinking in every curve and contour of your body as if he wanted to commit them to memory.

His thumb traced along your jawline, causing you to let out a gasp. The tension in your body only fueled Erik's desire for you. His hand ventured down your body and slipped into your pants, finding the heat and wetness waiting for him.

Your breath caught at his touch, and your body instinctively moved towards him. The intensity in Erik's eyes grew as he watched your reaction. With skillful precision, he brushed his fingers between the folds of your sex, hitting all the sensitive spots that sent waves of pleasure through you. Your body trembled beneath him as he continued to pleasure you.

Erik’s lips traced a path down your neck, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive skin. With his free hand, he worked on unbuttoning your shirt, revealing more of your flesh to his hungry gaze. As each button came undone, he placed soft kisses on the newly exposed skin, gradually making his way down your chest. Your breath hitched as he reached the swell of your breasts, teasingly brushing his hot mouth against the edge of your bra.

"Erik, please," you whimpered, arching into his touch.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you want, love," he murmured against your skin.

"I want you," you gasped. "All of you."

With a growl, Erik captured your lips again in a searing kiss. His hands made quick work of the rest of your clothing, leaving you bare beneath him. You tugged at his shirt impatiently, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Erik let out a soft chuckle as he pulled away, discarding his clothes before settling back above you. Your eyes drank in the sight of his toned body as he positioned himself back into place. One hand stayed close to your head while the other made its way down to your center. As he began to gently massage small circles on your most sensitive spot, your muscles tensed and your breath hitched in your throat.

He craved your scent, wanting to lose himself in it completely. He wanted to savor every bit of you.

Suddenly, he slid his middle and ring fingers between your folds, causing you to cry out in shock. As he started to move in and out of you, you couldn't help but whisper his name like a holy chant. "Erik," you moaned, cherishing the way his name felt on your lips.

Erik's smirk only widened as he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Liebling, if you keep calling my name like that, I don't know if I can hold back much longer," he playfully warned.

His fingers slipped into you at a frustratingly slow pace and you could feel yourself reaching the brink of pleasure. "Please, Erik... faster..." you pleaded, desperate for him to pick up the pace. He obliged, finding that perfect spot inside of you that sent waves of ecstasy through your body. The books on the bookshelf started to topple as your telekinetic powers reacted to the overwhelming sensation. Erik clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"I'm close," you whimpered, but Erik shook his head.

"Not yet... not until I say so," he said with a teasing tone. This only made you groan in frustration, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers in a desperate attempt to reach your climax. But just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he pulled his fingers out.

You let out a whimper at the loss of his touch. Erik chuckled softly and positioned himself between your legs, pumping himself a few times before rubbing his cock against your folds, teasing you even further.

"Stop teasing me," you pouted, your frustration palpable. You wanted to smack him for holding back your release and taunting you with his erection.

After some playful teasing, he entered you, emitting a deep groan as he felt the warmth radiating from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size before moving again.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders. "Yes," you gasped. "Please..."

Erik started to move at a gentle pace, each thrust bringing waves of pleasure. You arched your back, matching his movements. His lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your sensitive skin.

As passion overtook both of you, the tempo increased gradually. The air was filled with soft moans and gasps as Erik's strong arms held you close, driving deeper into your body. You ran your fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by the intense sensations.

"Erik," you cried out as waves of ecstasy began to build inside you. Your body trembled under his urgent movements as he buried his face in your neck, sending shivers down your spine with his hot breath.

"You feel amazing," he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

Your fingers dug into his broad shoulders as the intensity grew, and Erik's lips found your neck, leaving hot kisses along your sensitive skin. You arched your back against his solid chest, unable to hold back your pleasure any longer.

"Oh god, Erik," you moaned desperately.

He responded by increasing his pace, driving you both closer to the edge. The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself on the brink of release.

Erik's ragged breathing and urgent movements pushed you over the edge. "Come for me," he growled in your ear, his desire evident in his husky voice.

Those words were all it took for you to tumble into mind-blowing ecstasy. Erik followed moments later, whispering your name as he found his own release.

You clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure together.

His hand moved to your clit, gently rubbing it in slow circles that made you arch your hips up in delight. "E-erik!," you gasped, unable to contain yourself. He silenced you with a tender shush and continued peppering kisses along your neck, marking you as his own.

The pleasure was reaching an overwhelming level, rendering you speechless as your brows furrowed in sheer ecstasy. He wanted to prolong your orgasm, drawing out every moment of bliss. Suddenly, without warning, a surge of release overcame you and you gasped for breath. Erik smirked, pleased with the outcome of his actions. He withdrew from you, leaving a mix of his cum and your juices scattered around.

"Good girl," he whispers, kissing your forehead. As Erik shifts to the side, you snuggle against his chest and feel the quick thumping of his heart. His arms wrap around you, keeping you warm and secure as your breath slows back to a steady rhythm. A sense of deep satisfaction washes over you as you revel in the peaceful aftermath.

For a long while, you lay together in contented silence, basking in the afterglow. Erik's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as you nestled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. The crackling fire cast a warm glow over your entwined bodies.

"I've missed this," Erik murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Missed you."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, seeing a vulnerability there that he rarely showed. "I've missed you too," you whispered. "More than you know."

His arms tightened around you. "I was a fool to let you go," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I won't make

The room was bathed in a warm glow from the fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the repositioned furniture. The blankets and pillows seemed to float effortlessly through the air, creating a cozy and inviting space.

- - - - - - -

His thumb traced along your jawline, causing you to let out a moan. The tension in your body only fueled Erik's desire for you. His hand ventured down your body and slipped into your pants, finding the heat and wetness waiting for him.

"Erik, please," you whimpered, arching into his touch.

He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire. "Tell me what you want, love," he murmured against your skin.

"I want you," you gasped. "All of you."

He craved your scent, wanting to lose himself in it completely. He wanted to savor every bit of you.

Erik's smirk only widened as he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Liebling, if you keep calling my name like that, I don't know if I can hold back much longer," he playfully warned.

"I'm close," you whimpered, but Erik shook his head.

"Stop teasing me," you pouted, your frustration palpable. You wanted to smack him for holding back your release and taunting you with his erection.

After some playful teasing, he entered you, emitting a deep groan as he felt the warmth radiating from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size before moving again.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders. "Yes," you gasped. "Please..."

"You feel amazing," he groaned, his voice thick with desire.

"Oh god, Erik," you moaned desperately.

He responded by increasing his pace, driving you both closer to the edge. The friction between your bodies was almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself on the brink of release.

Erik's ragged breathing and urgent movements pushed you over the edge. "Come for me," he growled in your ear, his desire evident in his husky voice.

Those words were all it took for you to tumble into mind-blowing ecstasy. Erik followed moments later, whispering your name as he found his own release.

You clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure together.

- - - - - - -

"I've missed this," Erik murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Missed you."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, seeing a vulnerability there that he rarely showed. "I've missed you too," you whispered. "More than you know."

His arms tightened around you. "I was a fool to let you go," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I won't make that mistake again."

"We both made mistakes," you replied gently. "But we're here now. That's what matters."

Erik nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. His fingers continued to trace lazy patterns on your skin as you lay nestled against him. The crackling fire cast flickering shadows across the room, enveloping you both in warmth and intimacy.

"What happens now?" you asked softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Erik was quiet for a moment, his hand stilling on your back. "I don't know," he admitted. "Charles left me with an enormous responsibility. The X-Men, the school... it's all in my hands now." His voice held a note of uncertainty you'd rarely heard from him before.

You propped yourself up on an elbow to look at him. "You don't have to do it alone," you said. "I'm here. And the X-Men - they may not trust you fully yet, but they'll support you. It's what Charles would have wanted."

Erik's eyes searched yours, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "You're right," he said softly. "Charles always believed in the power of unity, even when I couldn't see it." He paused, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "But can you forgive me for the things I've done? The pain I've caused?"

You leaned into his touch, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. "I forgave you a long time ago, Erik," you whispered. "The question is, can you forgive yourself?"

He closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. When he opened them again, there was a determination there that you recognized. "I want to try," he said. "For Charles. For the X-Men. For us."

You smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Then that's where we'll start.”

- - - - - - -

glossary: liebling = darling, mein liebe = my darling

#erik lehnsherr x reader #charles xavier #x men 97 #x men first class #x men movies #michael fassbender #smut #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #wholesome #magneto #magneto x reader #erik lehnsherr #erik lensherr icons

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cauliflowercounty · 8 months ago

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Knives Dance (Part III)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

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

Baron Feyd missing you + heartfelt reunion

Feyd being totally infatuated with you

SCIENCE!!! and POLITICS!!!

Rabban being pitiful

Reader being a badass

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

Warnings: Violence, blood, death (woohoo)

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

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

Part I | Part II | Part III

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mad?!” the emperor says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Also is it obvious I study chemistry yet?

Taglist:

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

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

#feyd rautha #dune part 2 #dune part two #feyd rautha x reader #dune #x reader

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silly-writes · 1 year ago

Note

What if reader was an old childhood friend of some of the competitors (ie Courtney, gwen, bridgette, Heather, duncan, Izzy, cody, etc) with said character(s) having strong feelings for before reader moved away just to come back into their life during one season with reader initially unaware of these returning feelings in said camper.

Bonus: What if reader/camper did get together in that one season, only for next season to have a love triangle form involving another character. The camper is aware of said triangle forming though reader might be oblivious due to now having eyes only for first camper. What'd this be like for different people?

Compretitors with returning feelings for childhood best friend reader!

u guys r really feeding me with these prompts I can't even lie this one was a little tricky with all these moving parts! Sorry if some of these are a little angsty and don't really have happy (per say) conclusions, but I'm just doing what I think best fits the character! I only write pure fluff if that what im given. I hope you enjoy anyways anon!

Courtney

Courtney is beyond stricken when she sees you.

What are the odds you both would have signed up for the same shitty reality tv show?

Well, high as Courtney would tell you. You always were very similar even back when you were inseparable as children.

You knew Courtney was always very fond of you before you moved away, so the reunion is very sweet, and heartfelt.

The two of you attempt to spend a lot of time catching up on what you missed out on after you had moved, but on the show there isn't much time for it.

Courtney can't help but think about how absolutely heartbroken she was when you moved away.

I would think with Courtney's determined attitude (plus based on what she says to Gwen during their friendship) she has made too many friends.

So when you moved away, especially since she was little, it sort of felt like the end of the world to her.

I imagine you being around is wildly distracting for her. Despite her returning romantic feelings.

You were the only person who ever had that type of close vulnerable relationship with her, she would do anything to please you, receive attention from you, or keep you in the game.

All of it leads to some very undesirable slip ups from her, which with you is how I imagine she goes home on the island.

She watched you as she got pulled away, she's not going to leave it unsaid this time, she remembers what that feels like, she remembers how isolating and awful it feels.

"I'm going to miss you ______!" She called out to you from the end of the doc of shame.

You waved wildly "I'm going to win this for you Courtney!" You call back.

"No- I mean! I'm going to miss you because I'm in love with you!"

You stand there stunned as she boards the boat and calls out one final thing "You had bet your butt you'll win this for me! I just confessed my love to you on live television!"

You try to call back that you feel the same, but Chris does what Chris does best and gets in the way of a good time. Even if the boat hadn't driven her off before you got the chance to confess back, the motor is loud enough to where she probably couldn't hear you anyways.

By action, you two have fully discussed your feelings, and how everything should go now that you're into each other but still competitors.

You both agree that your first real official date should be after the show is over, so while things aren't technically official by next season, you two are undoubtedly interested in each other and therefore not getting involved with anyone else.

You stick true to that, but Courtney can see Duncan keeps looking at you, and she's not stupid, she would know that punks gazes in and out.

She doesn't bring it up to you, she knows you're generally very dense about those kinds of things.

But eventually, she can't take it anymore and her jealousy starts driving her mad.

She declares that you two are official, and that you very much are dating, which causes some tension between the two of you during action since you both agreed it just wasn't a good idea.

After some fighting, fighting, and more fighting eventually it's you this time taking the walk of shame to the lame-ousine.

Courtney fights her way to you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to play out this way!" She says sorrowfully.

But you did, you know just how Courtney is, you know how she gets, and while you didn't fully understand why she did what she did you could've guessed that some kind of fight was inevitable. Plus you know how she gets during competitions.

"Hey don't sweat it," you smile "now that I'm not technically on the show, I don't have as much of a problem doing this-" you say and bring her in for a short and sweet kiss.

After years of waiting for this moment, Coutney can't help but freeze up.

You pull away, and head towards the lame-ousine as she calls "I'll win this for you!"

"You had better win this for me! I just kissed you on live television!" You say smiling as you duck into the back seat.

Gwen

Gwen feels nothing but nervous when reuniting with you.

She was happy to see you sure, but her anxiety held her back in how she displayed that happiness.

She's mainly worried that too much time has passed since the two of you knew each other, and that the two of you won't have anything to talk about anymore.

Eventually the two of you slump back together and things go back to the way that they were before you had moved away.

Another reason she was desperately trying to avoid you at first is because of the huge massive crush she used to have on you.

And dang it of course you had to get cuter as you got older!

Just as she realizes that those feelings for you are slipping out of hiding, is also when she realizes that it's already too late.

Once again the two of you are glued at the hip, just like how it used to be.

You, being who you are and were, are wildly oblivious to these feelings because of course you are.

Gwen isn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve, and even though you two are close she is less so with you, she's been burned before, she's not letting that happen again.

The two of you are sitting next to each other at the talent show when it happens.

Heather goes up on stage and says "Originally I was going to dance for you, but instead I want to celebrate team spirit with a collaboration" She holds up a dark notebook with an evil look plastered on her face.

Gwen seems to recognize it and instantly freezes up "Gwen? Are you okay?" You asked, knowing immediately something was off.

"She wouldn't," she says, and then braces herself.

"So with words by Gwen, performance by me, enjoy."

She cleared her throat before beginning "Okay so I've been trying to ignore them. But they're just so cute! I know it's been forever since we've seen each other and in that time they have gotten so hot! Out of all my childhood friends, of course it had to be them."

Gwen dashes away from the bleachers, and Heather seems satisfied.

Of course you run after Gwen to comfort her.

She lamented on and on about how you must think she's such a creep now, and was acting like a total school girl, still writing in a diary.

But of course you didn't feel like that at all, this was Gwen you were talking about here. The cool, collected, funny quiet girl, and you were obsessed with her.

You two start getting a little more romantic after that, and Heather seeing her plan to drive a wedge between the two of you did not work realizes she has to get her hands messy and plays a little bit more of a direct role in getting you eliminated.

It's a sorrowful goodbye until you see her again in action.

Bridgette

Reuniting with Bridgette is nothing but vibes.

She's beyond stoked to see you again, and even more stoked to ride the wave with you again.

I imagine the two of you met at the beach, and it was love at first sight for her.

You two click all over again like no time has gone past, and she fills you in on every little thing you've missed.

Things are super cut and dry with Bridgette, no mess, nothing but chillness.

She makes her feelings pretty clear, with some hints and stuff.

She learned her lesson the first time, letting you leave without having ever told you how she really felt hurt in ways she wasn't ready to feel again.

But if you don't pick up on it she'll just flat out tell you.

"I'm not doing this cause you're my team mate, I'm doing it cause I like you. You dork."

"I like you too Bridge, you know that."

"Not like that-!" She exclaimed, splashing you playfully, rocking the canoe as she did "-like like like you."

You stare at her in disbelief for a moment.

"what?!" you exclaim.

"Do you not feel the same?" She frowned.

"No I do... I just wasn't expecting-" she cuts you off tackling you rocking the whole boat as she does.

The rest is history and you two are pretty much inseparable from that point onward.

Up until World Tour, where Alejandro starts becoming a plane wide problem.

He tries targeting you at first, but youre so in love with Bridgette he can't get any headway.

But Bridgette being stuck on an opposing team leaves her exposed to his manipulation, he lies about you and makes her question her loyalty.

After she gets stuck to a pole, you find her, but when she explains what happened you just feel so hurt and betrayed that you leave her in the dust (or well, snow).

After a world tour it takes a lot of apologizing and healing to get over what happened between the two of you but you're both determined to make it work so you both put your strongest foot forward and work at it.

Heather

Heather is absolutely stunned when she sees you.

You greet her excitedly when she hits you with a "hello? Earth to nerd, I don't know you!"

That's enough to keep you away from her for a while.

She 100% is only pretending not to know who you are, but what choice did she have? She couldn't risk her feelings for you returning and ruining her chances at winning.

Close tender friendships like you used to have were bad for her image now, she had an impression to keep in this competition and she'd be dead in the ground before she let you or anyone else come in the way of that.

Her tenderness for you starts to show through and through though, you know her like the back of your hand, still, even after all these years.

You'd recognize those glances anywhere, and you knew it meant more than just being a strong team mate when she would point out all the ways in which you did well in the challenges. She was trying to keep you in the game.

The two of you never have any heart to hearts, nothing like that anyways.

She never reveals that she does remember you, not even as you watch her fade into the horizon on the boat of losers.

World tour she's more determined than ever, you've never seen her so deranged to win.

I'd imagine the love triangle would have more to do with her and Alejandro then you and anyone else.

She becomes torn between the two of you, and the inherit struggle in trying to pick over someone who actually matched her wit, and her childhood best friend and longest crush.

She makes her decision when she inevitably votes you out.

"Heather... you voted for me?" You asked, heart breaking, eyes already feeling wet.

She scoffs, "Don't take it so personally."

You sniffle a little bit, and then shake your head "I should've known better than to fall for your two faced snake self twice." You spit.

And with that you're gone.

She's not stupid, she's not forgetful either, and you knew that she knew just what "twice" really meant.

But she'd dug her grave now, she would just have to hope it could hold a million bucks.

Duncan

The meeting with him is very awkward I'd imagine.

He'd likely pretend not to know you until he can get a moment alone with you.

I would imagine he's largely embarrassed of your relationship due to the fact that he met you before his Juvie days, and you were one of the only people who had known him before he became nothing more than a delinquent.

So yeah, he's hell bent on making sure people don't find out about you two knowing each other.

But we all know deep down Duncan is a totally sweetie, even if it is deep, deep, deep down. His affection for you is bound to show one way or another.

Ever the observant one I'm sure it was Courtney who noticed first, marveling at how strange it was that you two of all people had romantic feelings for each other.

She urged the two of you together, subtly, attempting to be your sort of wingman, unbeknownst to even you.

Eventually Duncan works towards getting her voted out because of this, he's so obsessed with keeping his bad boy persona he'd do just about anything in this competition to keep it up. Even risk losing a million big ones.

You knew something was fishy about Courtney getting voted, but you couldn't put your finger on what. At least not until you heard him in the confessionals.

"I had to get that Courtney chick voted out, she was getting too close. I hate people who get to close,"

"Duncan!" you exclaim.

You can hear him mutter curses from the outhouse.

"Forget it! You know I can't believe I was actually starting to like you again!"

After that it's a nonstop battle for Duncan to win back your affections.

I would imagine the love triangle would consist of you, Duncan, and of course, Courtney.

She would start falling for you based on the way you shamelessly defended her despite your feelings for Duncan.

Only problem for you was those feelings hadn't exactly gone away since last season, and you were still very much into him.

You three fight a lot, and are the reason all three of you end up going home.

Which leaves nothing but time to work out your messy feelings for Duncan, and his for you.

But maybe time is really all the two of you need.

Izzy

Izzy is a bit of a wild card (obviously).

I feel like reuniting with her is just super duper chaotic, and very overwhelming at first.

She wants to fill you in on every little detail in her life within the same second she sees you again.

But you remember how to rein her in, she really hasn't changed much from the chaotic messy kid she was. (save for being a criminal now (whoops!)).

You being in the challenge with her would keep her much more rallied and motivated towards an understandable goal.

She can feel those intimate feelings creeping back, but she isn't shy with it.

I imagine she probably would've confessed to you once before, when you first moved, only neither of you wanted to try out long distance and thought it might only ruin what a good friendship you had. So through your move you decided to just stay friends.

You don't get long to sit and wonder about if those feelings still linger for her as they do for you when she abruptly asks

"So hey, are you interested in dating during the competition?" she asked, sitting beside you, anything but shy.

"What?"

Izzy was nothing if not explorative, she collected new experiences like pokemon cards, and she wanted to live fully every part of life.

"It might be a little bit messy. But I think maybe it could work, if all that was keeping you was distance the first time... well... I'm here now."

She stares at you with an expectant kind of rare almost nervous look, and though the confession is anything but picturesque, with her, it's perfect.

I think the love triangle would come in with her next season with maybe Alejandro falling for you.

Hard to say whether his attempts at flirting are due to advancing in the game, or genuine attraction. Either way you have trouble picking up on it, especially when things are going so well with Izzy.

I wouldn't say Izzy isn't a jealous person, I just think she could fall either way, depending on the person, depending on the day, the humidity in the air, basically on nothing at all. She's nothing if not erratic.

With Alejandro, she might be inclined to threaten him with her license to kill depending on her mood, and depending on what he tries to pull with you.

Cody

The reunion with Cody is one that is very heartfelt, and he instantly lights up upon seeing you.

You can see that he's fairly committed to his "too cool for school" schtick, so having any genuine connection with him might be a little tricky.

He's one person I feel like would have definitely tried to keep in contact with, it wasn't anything like every day phone calls, but the two of you had definitely spent at least some time sending letters back and forth.

So when you too meet there isn't a lot of catching up to do, only some.

He's overall very excited to see you back, and you know him enough to know that, even if he's refusing to show it.

You can feel those creeping feelings sneak up on you until the hit you smack in the face during one of the challenges.

"Cody!" you exclaimed during one of the challenges as he hit the ground hard.

"I'm fine," he lied, his voice strangled, the wind having been knocked out of him wholly.

You helped him up, and picked up a piece of paper that had tumbled out of his pocket and went bouncing a few feet.

At first you mistake it for trash, but with the way that even injured and put out Cody grabs for it, you figure it must be something good.

You were due for a little bit of teasing when you decided to open it, only to realize that it was a letter from you.

It's an old one, a really old one, perhaps even the first one you'd ever sent.

"Uhhh... how'd that get in there!?" He exclaims, swiping it out of your hands which are too stunned to fight against it.

Realization dawns on you just as quickly, there is only one reason he'd would've kept that with him after all those years.

"Oh my god Cody, you like me!"

The rest is history, and you two start dating among the challenges.

The conflict would come with Sierra I would think, who's hell bent on breaking you two apart.

All of her attempts fall flat unfortunately for her, and you two stand as one of the more healthy and strong relationships within the show.

#I hope this is as fun to read as it was to write!#oh my god is 3am #what am i doing #anyways hope u enjoyyy!#total drama #total drama x reader #total drama imagines #fanfic #td #total drama headcanons #td courtney #td heather #td gwen #td cody #td duncan #td izzy #x reader

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rafegf-real · 7 days ago

Text

Beneath the Surface

• Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

• Warnings: Angst, emotional turmoil, family issues, mentions of sadness, but with a happy ending.

• Note: This story explores Rafe’s struggles with family pressures and his fear of dragging the reader into his chaos. As he battles his emotions and distances himself, their love is tested, leading to a heartfelt reunion and a reaffirmation of their bond

-this is half proofread😭🤙

It was a typical Friday night when the change became undeniable. You were at a party at the Outer Banks, surrounded by friends, but your attention was solely on Rafe. He had been quiet all night, his laughter ringing hollow, his eyes shadowed with worry. As the evening wore on, you noticed him retreating into the crowd, pulling away from you.

Finally, you decided to confront him. You found him on the balcony, staring out at the ocean, the wind ruffling his hair. The moonlight cast a silvery glow on his features, but you could see the pain etched into his expression.

“Rafe,” you said softly, stepping closer. “What’s going on? You’ve been distant all night.”

He turned to you, his expression a mix of frustration and sadness. “It’s nothing. Just… a lot on my mind.”

“Is it your dad again?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

He clenched his jaw, and the silence between you grew heavy. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You reached for his hand, your heart aching at his distance. “You can talk to me about anything. I’m here for you.”

He pulled his hand away, and it felt like a physical blow. “No, you don’t understand! I don’t want to bring you into my mess. My family is a disaster, and I can’t let you get hurt because of me.”

“Rafe, I love you. I can handle it,” you replied, desperation creeping into your tone. “We can handle it together.”

He looked away, and you could see the internal battle raging in him. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. My family is falling apart, and I’m just… I’m just a mess.”

The tears threatened to spill as you fought to keep your voice steady. “You’re not a mess. You’re just human. We all have our struggles.”

He turned back to you, his eyes filled with emotion, a mix of sadness and guilt. “I don’t want to drag you down with me. I care about you too much for that.”

The pain of his words sliced through you, and you felt a warmth spread behind your eyes. “Maybe you need some space,” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N, wait—” he started, but you turned away, trying to keep the tears at bay.

As you made your way through the party, you felt a profound sense of loss. The laughter and music faded into a dull roar, overshadowed by the heaviness in your heart. You left the party, the cool night air doing little to ease the pain inside.

A Few Days Later

Days passed, and the silence between you and Rafe was deafening. He hadn’t called or texted, and each notification on your phone brought a pang of disappointment. You filled your time with friends and distractions, but Rafe lingered in your mind like a haunting melody you couldn’t shake.

Then, on a particularly bleak Saturday evening, you received an unexpected text: “Can we talk? Meet me at the beach.” Your heart raced at the message, a mix of hope and anxiety swirling within you.

When you arrived, the moon hung high in the sky, casting a shimmering path across the water. Rafe stood near the shoreline, his silhouette outlined against the waves. He looked lost, a stark contrast to the boy you had fallen for. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you approached.

“Rafe,” you called softly, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the surf.

He turned, and the look on his face shattered your heart. His eyes were red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears. “Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice trembling.

“What’s going on?” you asked, worry flooding your heart.

“I’ve been an idiot,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I pushed you away because I thought it would protect you, but I only hurt you more. I thought I could handle my family issues alone, but I can’t. I’m scared, Y/N. I don’t want to drag you into this darkness.”

You took a step closer, the warmth of his presence grounding you. “You don’t have to go through it alone. I can help you. We can face it together.”

“I thought I could be strong,” he confessed, tears spilling down his cheeks. “But I feel so weak. I hate that I can’t protect you from this. I don’t want to be the reason you’re sad.”

The sight of him so broken, so vulnerable, made your heart ache. “Rafe, you’re not weak. You’re just human. We all have our struggles, and I’m here for you.”

“I’m sorry for shutting you out,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know how to handle everything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I was terrified of losing you.”

You reached out, cupping his cheek with your hand, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palm. “You won’t lose me, Rafe. I care about you too much to just walk away.”

He stepped closer, his hands shaking as he reached out to hold you. “Please forgive me. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Of course, I forgive you. I was scared too. Scared that I was losing you,” you replied, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face.

Without another word, he leaned down and captured your lips with his, the kiss both apologetic and full of longing. You melted into him, feeling the tension of the past days dissolve as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, the ocean breeze swirling around you. “I love you, Rafe. We can get through anything together.”

He smiled, tears still glistening in his eyes, but they were now mixed with hope. “I love you too, Y/N. You make me want to be better, and I promise I’ll let you in from now on.”

As you stood together beneath the moonlight, you felt a renewed sense of hope. The storm of the past few days had only strengthened your bond, and together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Hand in hand, you walked along the shore, the waves crashing at your feet and the stars shining brightly above. In that moment, you knew that love was worth fighting for, and together, you could conquer anything.

#rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe angst #rafe smut #drew birthday

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vendetta-if · 1 year ago

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With recent superhero movies like The Flash and Across the Spider-verse dealing with things like time travel and alternate univierses. I'm curious about what would happen if similar happened and the MC wound up encountering Viktor from the Dead Man Walking AU?

Oooh that's angsty 😰 It would be filled with a tearful and heartfelt reunion. For those who haven't read it, I have made the Dead Man Walking AU side story public a while back and you can read it here (Part 1) and here (Part 2). Also, I've compiled a list of all the publicly available side stories here 😀

Viktor from the Dead Man Walking AU is really a husk of the man he once was. He has become someone who's very bitter and cynical, and he won't stop at anything to make those who took his child away from him pay in the worst way possible. The only reason he's still alive is out of pure spite; there's no way he's going to die as long as the killer is still alive.

So, yeah MC would be in for a bit of a surprise to see just how different their dad is from the one they know and remember. But Viktor would be even more surprised to see his kid all grown up now. He would definitely break down and cry while hugging MC tightly, not wanting to let go.

MC would tell him everything that has been going on in their life and for the first time in years, Viktor genuinely smiles--even though it's a wistful one. At least, he feels something other than the numbing pain, hatred, and anger. Rather than telling MC what he has been up to all these years, he would rather ask more about MC and what they like and stuff, whether they still love the same ice-cream flavour, and he would carve all those little details all his heart.

Funnily enough, meeting Viktor would end up being a good thing overall for MC and Luka and Grandpa from the current Vendetta universe. Hypocritically, Viktor would make the three of them promise to stop their foolish endeavour to avenge him, saying he never wanted or expected it from them. He would tell them to live their lives to the fullest and he would also make sure Luka knows that he's not at fault at all.

Basically, he would tie up all emotional loose ends that his alternate self had tragically left, and yes, even with Grandpa as well. As much as they had beef, they still care for each other. I think that will help MC, Luka, and Grandpa heal once Viktor returns to his own universe.

But for Viktor, once he returns to his own universe, that encounter just makes him sadder, angrier, and more spiteful. How could one not when he has seen what he could've had, what could've been? While MC and Luka can continue with their lives, for Viktor, MC was his future and everything... There is no moving on for him, only more burning desire to avenge his kid. And once he somehow manages that... Honestly, he has not expected to go that far.

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whateverisbeautiful · 1 month ago

Note

What would you want to see in a TOWL season 2?

Ooh definitely had fun thinking about this question. 😊 Thank you for asking! First, I love that Danai and Andy have expressed the importance of returning only if the story they tell next feels necessary and irresistible. With a franchise that’s been making content for almost 15 years now, it’s tough to avoid doing something that feels repetitive or superfluous. But it’s certainly not impossible. And if anyone can find the right future story to tell for Richonne it’s the Andy, Danai, and Scott band. I wrote out the rest of my thoughts and what I would want to see in season 2 right below. 💗⬇️

Part of why TOWL worked so well is because the story truly did feel necessary. With how Rick and Michonne left TWD, their story was unfinished, and so TOWL came to give such deserving characters a deserving conclusion.

And TOWL felt fresh because it put Rick and Michonne in situations we had never seen them in before. We’d never seen Rick go that long without family and naturally, the damage from that took a serious toll on him. And we’d never really seen Michonne have to try and downplay the competent woman she is to survive in a new territory. We also had never seen Rick and Michonne have this much conflict between them, which made their beautiful reconciliation all the more moving and rewarding.

The Ones Who Live also remembered that one of the most enticing aspects of the golden era of TWD was interpersonal conflict and relationships. So making Rick and Michonne’s incredible, compelling, and authentic relationship the driving force of the plot was great and it really grounded TOWL, making it focused and captivating.

There are a lot of things I’d love to see in season two. I go back and forth because, on one hand, TOWL’s closing family reunion scene feels like such a fitting final moment for Rick and Michonne’s arc, both together and as individuals. Especially with Rick starting TWD as a man looking for his family, it’s beautiful that his story ends wrapped in the embrace of the wife and kids who love him and who he loves with everything in him. Rick finding his family and he and Michonne finding peace feels like the natural endpoint.

Then on the other hand, I of course would love to see what life looks like for the Grimes family post-reunion. We can always imagine different scenarios in our head, and sometimes future stories are better left imagined, but if they can find a way to show us what came next in the Grimes family’s life without it feeling just like an epilogue that would be nice. If TOWL Season One’s theme was ‘Reunion’, then I could see TOWL Season Two’s theme being ‘Recovery,’ on both a personal and grander scale.

My main thing is I just want them to come back if the quality will be on par with season one or better because I don't want anything to tarnish TOWL after the achievement of Season One. I do think it’s highly likely we’ll see Rick and Michonne again in some capacity, even if brief. So all that being said, these are 7 things I’d like to see if we’re blessed with a season two:

#1: Rick Bonding with RJ & Judith & the Moment Rick Truly Becomes Dad

I would absolutely love to see how Rick and RJ build their tight bond and get to know each other. And Rick being a girl dad with Judith would be great to see too. Whenever I envision what Rick’s return to being a dad to his kids could look like, I always think something that would be really heartfelt is seeing the moment when it’s clear his kids see him as dad not just because that’s his title but because they really do have a close father/child relationship now.

#2: Michonne Reconnecting with Judith & RJ

It would be interesting to see Michonne reconnecting with her kids as well. Especially with Judith being a teenager now and RJ not being her little baby in the same way. Michonne getting to see that she really did raise her kids to be smart survivors would be sweet.

#3: Rick and Michonne Living in Their Love Story & Navigating Parenthood Together

I hope a season two would still keep Rick and Michonne’s love story at the forefront because it really never gets old. I’d love to see them still having personal moments to enjoy their love in all the ways and reacclimating to life at home together. Since TOWL season one mostly showed them operating under the high stakes circumstances of the CRM, I’d love a look into how Rick and Michonne have been spending their more normal everyday life and especially how they are navigating parenthood together.

#4: Any and All Grimes Family Content (& Another Richonne Baby)

I’d love every bit of Grimes Family content they can give us. Like the four Grimes out on some type of excursion together where Rick gets to see Judith’s sword skills and gets to teach RJ to use the axe, that Family Fun Day picnic they filmed, a Grimes family dinner because in the post-Rick era of TWD we saw a few Grimes dinner scenes with that empty fourth chair and I’d love to see Rick finally get to fill that chair and have dinner with his family, and just any Domestic Grimes family moments.

Also, I could see the Grimes family expanding and Richonne having one more kid. If we got to see even just a glimpse of Rick with a pregnant Michonne, that would make me happy. I feel like with the right stakes added, this whole domestic family angle could be done in a fresh way without shifting the TWD tone too much.

#5: Rick and Michonne Reintegrating into Their Community and Saving The World For The Final Time

I know every good story needs conflict so I’d like to see how that plays out through Rick and Michonne reintegrating into their community. Rick and Michonne having a reunion with certain family members like Daryl would be nice, even tho I'm not sure how that would play out with Daryl on a whole other continent now. I also could see Richonne perhaps trying to be in ‘retirement’ but then some major threat (perhaps pertaining to things Beale mentioned in the breifing like spies and the potential fast-approaching threat of extinction) pulls them back into leadership to save the world one last time.

#6: Hearing Certain Words & Exchanges

I’d love it if season 2 included some of the stuff we didn’t get to hear in TOWL Season 1. Like Michonne officially being called ‘Michonne Grimes.’ Rick being referred to as Michonne’s ‘husband,’ Rick and Michonne both directly telling each other ‘I Love You.’ And either seeing or at least hearing that Rick and Michonne did go on to have that wedding ceremony like Rick wanted before. (Also, I personally would not be mad if season two wanted to come along and try to match or break the TOWL Season 1 kiss record lol.)

#7: Rick and Michonne Happily Growing Old Together

The most important thing for me would be that Rick and Michonne’s story still concludes with a happy ending in season two. Like I don’t want to visibly see one of them die or anything tragic happen to their kids. While I think Rick and Michonne wrapped in a family embrace is already such a perfect ending image for them, one that I think could be equally perfect is seeing that Rick and Michonne got to live a long happy life and grow old together. I’d love to know that, especially after losing children, they got to see their kids grow up into well-adjusted thriving adults and even start families of their own, making Richonne grandparents.

Two characters making it into old age and living a calm steady life after everything they’ve been through in this uncertain and often unforgiving apocalypse is a triumphant conclusion that we haven’t seen yet for prominent characters in TWD. And so it would warm my heart to know that Rick and Michonne really did get to love on each other and their family as hard as they could for many years and just truly and fully enjoy the peace they fought so hard for throughout this series.

BONUS: If they could find a way that feels natural and right then I’d love if there was somehow a scene that could include Chandler Riggs making an appearance to reprise his role as Carl one more time.

So those are some things I would like to see if TOWL has a second season. Writing this out actually made me even more grateful for TOWL season one though because they made sure to end the show in a way that is so satisfying to where I don’t feel like I need anything more. Like I love and miss Richonne dearly so I'll be glad to have them back on my screen, but I also am so fulfilled by what we got with TOWL. So even all these things on this s2 wishlist would be nice to see but they are in the ‘want’ category rather than feeling like these things are needed for Rick and Michonne’s arc to feel complete.

Thanks to TOWL, Richonne's story already feels whole and complete. But if the gift that keeps on giving wants to give us even more, I’ll welcome it, and I definitely trust the captains can deliver something special if they choose to return to TOWL. 👌🏽😊 Thanks again for asking and reading my extra self's response!

#richonne #reflecting on richonne #asks & answers

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mysticalsoot · 1 year ago

Text

you changed, it's good

A/N; soooo ive kinda been in a writing slump so take this fic thats been building dust in my docs- also tysm for 300!! hopefully ill come up w smth for it lol- I have no clue how to process that information omf

summary; months after wilbur's revival and his reunion with you and the daughter you share (that he didn't know about), you let out pent emotions and have a heartfelt talk with wilbur

tw// swearing, not lore accurate, im a wilbur apologist shush, children, suicidal mentions maybe? lmk if i missed anything

words; 1.8k

pairings; c!wilbur x gn!reader (they're parents), revivedbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

—★—

The time since Wilbur’s death and revival may not have been that long, but for you, it felt like ages--you had a child now, his, yes but you’ve begun another life. A life with a little girl, a life without him. But now, he was here and he was trying. You appreciated it but god did you fear it too. The memories taunted you, the hurt and the aching that still lingered, haunted you. He haunted you.

Your head is rested upon Wilbur's chest, and the thumping of his heart echoes in your mind. His left arm wraps around your shoulder and your own arms around his middle. Your daughter, Willow lays against his other side, curled into a ball, and his other arm held tightly around her in comforting warmth. This moment is what you imagined life to be all those years, before everything…happened.

You seemed to always subconsciously wish for moments like these, at least, in the past few years. One’s where Willa has a parent other than yourself, someone else to hold her, and someone to hold you too. Domestic bliss, calm and serene. No wars or bombs, no screaming, and yelling. Simply the sound of your partner's heart and the sight of him holding your child. It's a reassurance of sorts, a silent "everything will be okay, even if it wasn't before".

Things used to be so not okay that having this calmness is nice. Having his arms around you again is lovely, being able to kiss him and hold him, to watch him help raise your daughter, to play with her and hold her. Tickle her and carry her on his shoulders, hold her hand with his, and walk with her on the prime path. To teach her how to ride a horse, after bringing one home for her, and helping her name him.

"Wilbur?" You whisper to him, moving your head back, your gaze locked upwards on him. He looks down at you, a soft smile written on his features, and he tilts his head to the side.

"Yes, my love?" he leans down, leaving a soft kiss to your lips and you smile through it, the warmth in your stomach swelling the same way it did when you both were younger. You take a moment to admire him, the way his curls fall in his face, how his glasses are always crooked and now are no different, and how the small freckles he adorns sprinkle his cheeks. Everything about him is beautiful, and so it brings you back to what you wanted to say. What you need to say, what is right to say.

"What happened? After lmanburg? You were so…" Your mind goes blank for a word to properly describe it, without hurting him. Cruel, evil, manipulative, the list goes on. It's odd to you, how someone could become so horrible and then return to a better version of their old self in a matter of years. "Horrible, then. To everyone, to yourself."

His face falls, and so does your heart, falling to the deep pits of your stomach. You can feel the life drain from your face and it hurts. You feel an immense dread, and wonder if you hadn’t mentioned it, how you would feel. It's a difficult subject for him but at this point, you think it had to be brought up. How can one accept this happy domestic life without knowing the full truth?

"I got lost, I think. Lost in the greed I suppose." He pauses, dips his head down to press his forehead against yours. His eyes close and he takes a breath, his arm letting go of Willa and placing his hand on your cheek, fingers gently brushing the skin and his eyes hold a warm sadness to them, "I wanted the joy still, the happiness for our future. But it got pushed back. I was blinded. There's a lot I don't remember. I mean I remember pieces here and there. Bribes from dream, desperate attempts to make things work for everyone and everything."

"And then what? You realized hurting us was better?" You’re hostile now, something switching or rather, breaking in your heart. You know you shouldn't react this way, get defensive--but a piece of you is still painfully angry and hateful, filled to the brim with spite and it’s accidentally let through the cracks. You back up a moment, his touch leaving you, hand falling to his side, head still dipped down.

"I realized I couldn't make it perfect for everyone, there were sacrifices I had to make." He takes another deep breath, wraps his arms around Willow again, she doesn't move. "And I made the wrong ones, I know that. I see that." Wil looks down at the lump that his daughter forms, a little ball of a girl. She moves to grab onto his arm in her sleep and she hums, a soft smile adorns his lips.

You feel you should be satisfied with his answers, and half of you is, but you still wonder; "Why? Why did you do it?"

His gaze lets its grip off of Willow, walks up and he looks to you, pupils big and somber, bloodshot and wet. "To not hurt anyone anymore. It was for the best."

You want to scream at him now, tell him how much of an idiot he is. Screams that are bloodcurdling, one’s that most definitely would wake up Willa and anyone surrounding the area. That no, killing yourself in fact does not stop the hurt, it only fuels it, like a spark to dead grass. He made Phil kill him, he made you watch as he destroyed his livelihood, your shared livelihood, watch as he's stabbed to death by his own goddamn father. It was never ending with him, it was always something new, something bigger, more painful than before. You want to storm away, back off, and not let him near you for a split second, it's all an overreaction, you tell yourself but you simply can't help it.

You stare at him for a moment, your expression blank and emotionless. Willow turns onto her back, eyes open slightly and her arms reach up to Wil. "Hey, daddy." She mumbles out, a smile of her own sculpted onto her features. Wil smiles back.

"Hello, my love. Are you ready for bed?" He asks, lifting her up by her sides and gently sitting her on his lap. She nods sluggishly, and she rests herself against him, chest to chest, head on shoulder, and tiny arms wrapped around his neck. "Let's get you into bed then, sweetie."

You just watch, your eyes follow him as he walks out of the living room, into the kitchen, and down the stairs. You sit there, alone now. Thoughts cycle through your mind. All the things you had wished for, every thought that graced your consciousness, every question unanswered for years. You missed him, you really truly did. But you aren’t sure who you missed more, and is the one you missed, the one you lie with at night? The one that wraps his arms around you in the morning, leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and brushes the hair out of your face. The man that waits there, holding you, until Willow comes rushing in the room to ‘wake’ you both up. The same man that shushes you lovingly and says "Pretend you're asleep, love," the moment he hears her bedroom door open, so she can have the satisfaction of waking you both.

You now rest your head on the back of the couch, your gaze focused on the window on the opposite side of the room. Snow gently falls past it, frost taken over the glass. The fire crackles and warms you like a hug.

What feels like moments later, even warmer arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to the body they're attached to. "Wil?" You call out, your voice coming out gravelly, and you realize you must've fallen asleep.

"Hey.." It comes out weak, the word feels broken and sounds broken. "I'm sorry, for all the shitty things I've done. I know my reasoning isn't nor has it ever been valid. But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere, and I don't have any plans of mass terrorism." His voice becomes clearer, breaks up less and he dips his head down again, pressing his cheek against yours. You nearly open your eyes, but keep them closed, and revel in the feeling of him more.

"I know." You pause, and let your own arms wrap around him, but instead of his middle like he has you held--you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands weaving into his mop of curls. "I think part of me still hurts, it's stupid I guess." You rest your head on his shoulder, and he pulls you closer, your legs now wrapped around him too.

"It's not, I hurt you. I take accountability for that and I hate that I even did it in the first place." His voice cracks again, and you know he means it. You pull back, your hands pressed against his cheeks and he looks up at you.

You hesitate, mulling over the words falling off his lips, his expression knotted in anxiety. Your thumbs run over his pink-tinted cheeks and you kiss his forehead.

"If you were that same person, you wouldn't say that." You take a breath, "I think you've changed. In a good way."

He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around you. "I hope I have."

“I know you have,” You pause, grasping his face in your hands and getting him to pull back simply so he can gaze at you.

“How?” His voice is merely a croaked-out mumble but it’s enough that you hear it loud and clear.

“Would you be here, in my arms, after putting our daughter to bed if you hadn't changed?" You paused, eyes gazing deeply into his and searching for any doubt to crush with your words, "Would you even search for us if you were that same man? For good, not to hurt us."

He shakes his head, "I changed, didn't I?"

"In the best way possible." A soft kiss placed on his lips, one of love and devotion. A simple peck speaking every word and emotion you've ever felt--but only the good.

He smiles against the kiss, grasping at your sides and pulling you closer and closer to him. You were already so close, practically one, but he felt the need to pull you so much closer that not only were your bodies one, but so were your souls.

He pulls away from the kiss, hands resting on your face, "I love you," he nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle, twisting your fingers into the curls on the back of his head, "so much." The last bit is whispered, like a quiet promise. A promise of devotion and loyalty. Something you're glad to finally have.

There's nothing in the way of him being with you. With your daughter.

"I love you more," You smile to him softly, a kiss placed on his forehead, and you push stray curls out of his face as he nuzzles his head against your chest.

taglist; @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy @sleepyburs @lotusanonymouse @lcvejoy

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #c!wibur #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur #c!wilbur soot #c!wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur soot x y/n #dsmp x reader #dsmp wilbur #dsmp wilbur soot

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whumplump · 3 months ago

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Day 8 of @augusnippets

Prompts used: reunion / found family / friends

CW: team setting, recovery, hurt/comfort, aftermath

The Team Leader opened a path among their teammates. Already a few days after the fight that rescued the Vice-Leader from the hands of the enemy, the night fell peacefully, without the fear of a desired result, and Whumpee's promising recovery was a cause for celebration for all the officers. The Team Leader was greeted with bows and grateful smiles as they passed. Leading the group was always a difficult task, but it was worth it to see those faces, faces of people who could now sleep peacefully, unconcerned with any torture that would come the next day.

They passed through a narrow, dimly lit corridor of the bunker, towards the infirmary. They stopped in front of the door for a moment and read the inscription on the sign above, which said the name of the ward. They simulated their best smile. They actually wanted to burst through that door screaming and jumping with joy, but they controlled themselves, to maintain their calm and focused image. They entered.

The infirmary was a wing rich in beds, medicines and equipment, but poor in colors. Everything was either white or had pastel colors that only reminded of anesthetics and sedatives. In one of the furthest beds was Whumpee, the Vice-Leader. They were comfortably seated, with Caretaker on the left side of the bed, holding their hand, and Medic, on the right side, treating a wound on their other arm.

When the Team Leader approached and greeted them with their practiced smile and a nod, everyone reciprocated with good humor.

Whumpee and Team Leader stared at each other. Unlike when the Leader found the captive in the basement of Whumper's house, beaten, bleeding and terrified, now Whumpee's face showed calm eyes and a grateful smile. Not just the smile, but words, coming out with their rasp voice:

"Thank you.”

Team Leader got emotional and looked away for a moment. They wouldn't cry, they wouldn't cry…

"No need to thank me. I would do anything for my team."

"What Vice is this, who is kidnapped like that? You were trying to disappear so you wouldn't work, right?" Caretaker joked.

Whumpee laughed at their friend's humor and copied their attitude.

“What about you? Who asked Medic for a fake sick note last week?"

Caretaker and Medic looked at each other in slight panic.

"I didn't do anything..." the doctor hurried to explain.

The laughter continued for a few more seconds, until Medic cut the joke off with a serious tone.

"With the extent of your injuries, you will need several weeks of rest. The infirmary will be your room for the first few days. I will arrange psychological support for you as well." They said, addressing Whumpee.

The newly rescued one fell silent, briefly overcome by memories of the torture they had experienced in recent days. Noticing their friend's tension, Caretaker held their hand tighter, breaking them out of their trance.

Whumpee gave a tired but relieved smile.

"You know, you're more than just co-workers or friends to me. You're my family. I love you guys."

The group looked at the Team Leader when they heard them sniffle.

"Oh no, don't tell me you're crying!" Medic scoffed.

Team Leader quickly wiped their hand over their face, brushing away the tears.

"I'm not... There's something in my eye..."

The others laughed at the lie. Team Leader gave in and let the emotion wash over them. They all gathered together and formed a semicircle around Whumpee, enveloping them in a heartfelt group hug. They spent a few seconds in silence, enjoying each other's company. They were now together. No one would separate them anymore. Neither from each other, nor from the rest of the team. They were like a giant family, all siblings.

Caretaker took the opportunity to break the silence with another joke.

"Ah, Whumpee, and no busying yourself with chores while you're recovering!"

Medic hummed and nodded in agreement.

"Leave everything to Team Leader, they've been really lazy lately", they concluded.

"Hey!" Team Leader protested.

They all laughed.

#whump community #whump #whump writing #whumpee #caretaker #caretaker x whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #team whump #recovery whump #augusnippets day 8

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owl-falls-au-gravity-falls · 18 days ago

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After the battle and the defeat of Belos, how would the reunion go between Stan, the kids, and Ford? I know for sure it’ll be heartfelt and wholesome, though I’d love to know the details of it. Like what would they think of his new form, would they know that is him immediately or would it take them a couple of seconds for them to recognize that it is him? | Después de la batalla y la derrota de Belos, ¿cómo sería el reencuentro entre Stan, los niños y Ford? Sé con certeza que será sincero y saludable, aunque me encantaría conocer los detalles. ¿Qué pensarían de su nueva forma? ¿Sabrían que es él inmediatamente o les tomaría un par de segundos reconocerlo?

IN ENGLISH

Actually, it would be during the battle, while everyone is still grieving over Stan's death.

We see Eda and King fighting Belos' monstrous form. They are still in a state of rage. As Eda and King fight, and Belos fires, the Collector, along with Ford, Dipper, and Mabel hide, unable to participate. The chaos causes Stan's staff to fly near Ford. After hearing Ford's explanation of where Stan was, The Collector attempts to deescalate the battle.

The Collector: No, please stop! Run away! -He snaps his fingers, but nothing happens. -Why isn't anything working?

The collector sees that mold is growing on his hands

The Collector: I don't want anyone else to go away. I don't want anyone else to go missing! I'm sorry for everything!

The Collector begins to cry and touches his face, noticing the tears, while Dipper, Mabel and Ford hug him to try to comfort him, they knew it was not his fault, that he was just a child.

The Collector: - in tears - What is this? W-why won't it stop?

Ford: These are tears - he said as he tries to comfort him, carefully drying his tears

The Collector sees the mold growing on Eda's claws. He shakes it off desperately with the help of Dipper and Mabel

The Collector: No! No, no, no, no! Get off of her!

Mabel: Leave it Granty Eda!

Dipper: Get away, monster!

The Collector freaks out as Belos prepares to crush them with his hand. He lowers his hand, but a beam of orange light deflects it. When the light clears, there is a gaping hole in Belos' hand.

A bright fire shines through the ashes. A figure with a Titan-like appearance can be seen emerging from the ashes. Dominique wakes up and floats towards the mysterious figure, then Dominique changes back into her staff form.

The Collector: Huh? It can't be…

Ford, Dipper, and Mabel fail to recognize the figure at first, Ford believes it's Bill when he sees eyes shining a familiar yellow from the fire, but when he recognizes Stan's symbol in one of the eyes, he realizes who it is.

The fog clears, revealing it to be Stan, holding his cane. Ford, Dipper, Mabel, Eda, King, and the Collector are in shock.

"It's good to be back!" he said after letting out a laugh, not malicious, but one full of confidence that was contagious to the others present.

Everyone looks at him in amazement and shock, Mabel instantly recognizes him and screams excitedly, Dipper is left speechless and Ford is left flabbergasted.

EN ESPAÑOL

En realidad, sería durante la batalla, mientras todos siguen dolidos por la muerte de Stan

Vemos a Eda y King luchando contra la forma monstruosa de Belos. Todavía están en un estado de ira. Mientras Eda y King luchan, y Belos dispara, el Coleccionista, junto a Ford, Dipper y Mabel se esconden, incapaces de participar. El caos hace que el bastón de Stan vuele cerca del Ford. Después de escuchar la explicación de Ford sobre donde estaba Stan, El coleccionista intenta reducir la intensidad de la batalla.

El Coleccionista: ¡No, por favor, basta! ¡Huyan! -Chasquea los dedos, pero no pasa nada. -¿Por qué no funciona nada?

El coleccionista ve que el moho está creciendo en sus manos, Ford corre a su lado para intentar ponerlo a salvo, el coleccionista mira a Ford con miedo y desesperación

El Coleccionista: No quiero que nadie más se vaya. ¡No quiero que nadie más desaparezca! ¡Lo siento por todo!

El Coleccionista comienza a llorar y se palpa la cara, notando las lágrimas, mientras Dipper, Mabel y Ford lo abrazan para intentar consolarlo, sabian que no era su culpa, que era solo un niño

El Coleccionista: - entre lágrimas - ¿Qué es esta cosa? ¿P-por qué no para?

Ford: son lágrimas - dijo mientras intenta consolarlo, secando sus lágrimas con cuidado

El Coleccionista ve el moho creciendo en las garras de Eda. Lo sacude desesperadamente con ayuda de Dipper y Mabel

El Coleccionista: ¡No! ¡No, no, no, no! ¡Sueltala!

Mabel: ¡deja a nuestra tia Eda!

Dipper: ¡aléjate, monstruo!

El Coleccionista se asusta cuando Belos se prepara para aplastarlos con su mano. Baja la mano, pero un rayo de luz anaranjada la desvía. Cuando la luz se aclara, hay un agujero enorme en la mano de Belos.

Un fuego brillante brilla a través de las cenizas. Se puede ver una figura con una apariencia similar a la de un Titán emerger de las cenizas. Dominique se despierta y flota hacia la figura misteriosa, luego Dominique cambia de nuevo a su forma de bastón.

El Coleccionista: ¿Eh? No puede ser…

Ford, Dipper and Mabel no logran reconocer a la figura al principio, Ford cree que es Bill al ver como del fuego resaltan unos ojos con un brillo de un familiar amarillo, pero cuando reconoce en uno de los ojos el símbolo de Stan, se da cuenta de quién es.

La niebla se disipa y revela que es Stan, quien sostiene su bastón. Ford, Dipper, Mabel, Eda, King y el Coleccionista están en estado de shock.

"¡Es bueno estar de vuelta!", dijo después de soltar una carcajada, no malévola, sino una llena de confianza que fue contagiada por los demás presentes

Todos lo miran con asombro y conmoción, Mabel lo reconoce al instante y grita emocionada, Dipper queda boquiabierto y Ford queda pasmado

#owl falls au #gravity falls #stan pines #gravity falls au #gravity falls x the owl house #the owl house #reverse portal au #stanley pines #gravity falls stanley #gravity falls stanford #crossover

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sunflowerabyss · 11 months ago

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Charms of Fate: Chapter 13

Paring: Remus Lupin x Fem!Professor!Reader

Series Masterlist

Plot: Amidst the echoes of a bygone era, you return to Hogwarts years after parting ways with Hogwarts. What begins as a journey fueled by nostalgia transforms into an unexpected reunion with Remus Lupin, now a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As the past intertwines with the present, the two former classmates navigate the complexities of grief, the resurgence of friendship, and the unwritten chapters of their shared history in this tale of rediscovery and the magic that binds them together.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of wounds and blood

___________________________________________

In the dimly lit room, tension hung thick in the air as Remus subtly motioned for you to move, and you complied, scrambling back towards the kids. His gaze locked onto the figure before him, and with a wry smile, he remarked, "Well, well, Sirius, looking rather rugged, aren't we? Finally, the flesh reflects the madness within."

Sirius, looking small and worn, retorted, "Well, you'd know all about the madness within, wouldn't you, Remus?"

Remus held Sirius's gaze for a moment before lowering his wand and extending a hand to help him up. As they embraced in a heartfelt hug, the unexpected reunion unfolded.

"Remmy..." you spoke softly.

"He's here!" Sirius shouted.

"I know," Remus replied.

"Let's kill him!"

The moment was completely shattered, hearing Sirius declare those words. Fear coursed through your veins, worried for not only for your own safety, but for the three students that held a special place in your heart.

Hermione's voice pierced through the room, full of disbelief and anger. "No! I trusted you!"

She turned to face Harry and Ron, her accusatory gaze unwavering. "He's a werewolf. That's why he's been missing classes."

Remus, now standing alongside Sirius, looked at Hermione with a mix of surprise and resignation. "How long have you known?" he inquired.

Hermione, resolute, replied, "Since Professor Snape set the essay. Professor (Y/N) only confirmed my suspicions when I asked."

Remus turned his gaze toward you, a flicker of betrayal in his eyes. Sensing his agitated, you began explaining, your voice gentle but firm, "I--I didn't want to tell her. This was just speculation before you told me. It was hard denying it, Hermione would have seen right through my excuses. Believe me Rem, I really didn't want to say anything."

Remus, seemingly understanding, grumbled a comment about Hermione being the brightest witch of her age. The room remained charged with tension as the weight of revelations settled before Sirius yelled, "Enough talk Remus! Let's kill him!"

"Wait!" Remus said sternly.

"I did my waiting!" Sirius interrupted, "Twelve years of it! In Azkaban!"

Remus looked at his old friend before shifting his gaze to the three students and the woman he loved. Taking a deep breath, he handed the wand to Sirius before muttering, "Very well. Kill him." Sirius snatched the wand from Remus.

"Remus, no! You can't, you just can't..." you trailed off, voice breaking.

"Wait one more minute," Remus said, his attention on Sirius, "Harry has the right to know why."

"I know why," Harry interjected, causing Remus to look at him. "You betrayed my parents. You're the reason they're dead." You pulled Harry close to you, hands trembling.

"No Harry, it wasn't him. Somebody did betray your parents, but it was somebody who, until quite recently, I believed to be dead!" Remus shouted.

"Who was it then?" Harry asked.

"Peter..." You mumbled, shock coursing through your body. Of course. Peter framed Sirius, but why?

"Peter Pettigrew!" Sirius shouted. "And he's in this room. Come out, come out Peter! Come out and play!"

"Expelliarmus!" a voice yelled out, knocking Remus' wand out of Sirius' hand. Everyone turned to see Snape. Your eyebrows shot up into your hair. This day can't get any weirder.

"Vengence is sweet," Snape drawled out. "How I hoped I'd be the one to catch you."

"Severus," Remus began, but quickly stopped and put his head down as Snape moved his wand over to him.

"I told Dumbledore you were helping an old friend into the castle, and now, here's the proof," Snape continued.

"Brilliant Snape," Sirius spoke up, "Once again, you put your keen and penetrating mind to the task, and as usual, come to the wrong conclusion. Now, if you'll excuse us, Remus and I have some unfinished business to attend to."

Snape thrust his wand into Sirius's neck. "I beg you," he said quietly, "give me a reason."

"Severus, don't be a fool," Remus said.

"He can't help it. It's habit by now," Sirius added.

"Sirius, just be quiet.”

"Oh, quiet yourself, Remus!" Sirius shouted.

"Oh, listen to you two, quarrelling like an old married couple," Snape said calmly.

"Why don't you run along and play with your chemistry set?" Sirius retorted. Snape dug his wand into Sirius' neck.

"I could do it, you know," Snape walked closer to Sirius. "But why deny the dementors? They're so longing to see you. Do I detect a flicker of fear?"

"Severus, please don't," you begged, shaking like a leaf but trying to keep your composure, "You don't know what you think you do."

Snape casts his attention to you before speaking, "I should have figured you were in on this too. Helping your little boyfriend help his murdering best friend." You recoiled at his venomous words. You could understand Snape's disdain, but also couldn't help inwardly scoff at how stupidly unreasonable he was being. Snape turned back to Sirius.

"After you," he said, trying to get Sirius to move out of the door.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry suddenly shouted, making you squeak out in surprise. It felt like slow motion, seeing Severus being flown through the air. However, you felt like you had no time to be shocked. "Tell me about Peter Pettigrew."

"He was at school with us, Harry," you stated.

"We thought he was our friend," Remus added.

"No," Harry replied stubbornly, "Pettigrew's dead. You killed him!"

"No, he didn't!" Remus argued, walking closer to Harry. "I thought so too, until you mentioned seeing Pettigrew on the map."

"The map was lying then."

"The map never lies! Pettigrew's alive! And he's right there!" Sirius said, pointing towards Ron.

"Me? He's mental..." Ron exclaimed.

"Your rat, Ron. He means your rat," you responded.

"Scabbers has been in my family for..."

"Twelve years!? Seems like a long life for a common garden rat!" Sirius said. "He's missing a toe, isn't he?"

"So what!?"

"All they could find of Pettigrew was his fin--"

"Finger!" Sirius finished speaking for Harry. "The bloody coward cut it off so everyone would think he was dead. Then he transformed into a rat."

"Show me," Harry stated simply, his wand out. Sirius grabbed at Scabbers, wrestling him out of Ron's grip. You pulled out your wand, ready to end this mystery once and for all. Grabbing him by the scruff by the neck, Sirius roughly put the rat down on a broken piano. The rat attempted to scamper away as you, Remus, and Sirius threw spells his way.

The oddly adorable rat you once knew to be Scabbers suddenly transformed into a heavyset, balding man. Shock fell upon the room and as Remus and Sirius pulled him up off the floor. Though you always had a weird feeling about Peter, your knees almost buckled under the weight of the revelation.

"Remus?" Peter began with feigned surprise, "Sirius? (Y/N)? My old friends!" he declared before attempting to make a run for it. The three of you used all of your force to push him back. Peter, like the dirty rat he truly was, scampered back in fear, looking for a way out before his eyes fell on Harry. He run up to him, putting his hands on the young boy's shoulders.

"Harry, look at you. You look so much like your father, like James," Peter said.

"Get your filthy, disgusting hands off of him!" you shouted, walking towards Peter, who hurriedly ran off to the other side of the room.

"How dare you talk about James in front of him!" Sirius added as the three of you cornered Peter behind the piano.

"You sold James and Lily to Voldemort, didn't you!?" Remus demanded.

"I didn't mean to!" Peter wailed. "The Dark Lord, you have no idea the weapons he possesses! Ask yourself, what would you have done?"

"I would have died!" you yelled, tears streaming down your face. "I would have died! You took them away from us! You're the reason they're dead. I always knew there was something wrong with you. Always sneaking off. Like a cowardly, dirty rat."

Peter quickly crawled under the piano, knocking you down in surprise. You let out a yelp as your foot caught on a wooden plank that had shifted up, rolling your ankle.

Harry quickly ran to the entrance of the door, blocking Peter. Peter once again placed his hands on Harry.

"Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed. He would spare me," Peter whispered in Harry's ear. Remus and Sirius pulled Peter off Harry.

"You should have realized Peter, that if Voldemort didn't kill you, then we would, together," Sirius said, him and Remus pointing their wand at Peter. You slowly got up, your wand at the ready as well.

"No!" Harry shouted.

"Harry," Remus began, his head hanging low, "This man is--"

"I know what he is. But we'll take him to the castle."

"Oh bless you boy," Peter wept.

"I said we'd take you to the castle. After that, the dementors can have you."

Peter whimpered.

You would have laughed at his cowardliness, had it been under different circumstances. You watched as Harry and Hermione helped Ron up, Sirius pulling Peter up roughly. Remus made his way over to you, dropping down to one knee.

"Are you all right, my love?" he asked, worry lacing his voice.

"I'm fine, I promise. Nothing a healing charm can't fix," you reply with a smile. You wave your wand, muttering an incantation. You felt instant relief. "See? All better." Remus kissed your cheek before helping Sirius haul Peter out.

You followed behind them, pressing your wand into Peter's back. You felt him stiffen under the contact. "Don't try anything, Pettigrew," you mumbled menacingly.

As you all made your way out of the hole of the Whomping Willow, you watched as Harry and Sirius stepped aside to talk, having what looked like a peaceful conversation. Hermione was tending to Ron, while you helped Remus keep an eye on Peter.

Remus and you stood side by side, watching Peter with a mixture of apprehension and hatred. The atmosphere was tense as you observed the man who had caused so much pain in your past.

"I never thought we'd see him again," Remus remarked, his eyes narrowed.

You nodded, a solemn expression on your face. "It's unsettling, to say the least." You shifted uncomfortably. "It's just so bizarre to see him here after all these years. And to think, he was right under our noses." Remus nodded, his gaze fixed on Peter.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted suddenly, pointing over at the night sky.

As if it were a bad movie, the dark clouds began to part, showing the moon. The full moon. You watched in horror as you whipped your head towards Remus, who had almost instantly started shifting. You watched his eyes turn green, his teeth grow pointy as he began moaning in pain.

"Remus!" you shouted, as you began reaching your arms out to him.

"Remus, my old friend!" Sirius shouted, coming up next to you as he took Remus into his arms. "Have you taken your potion tonight?"

Blood drained from your face. Had he really forgotten? You were always there to remind him, always there to witness him consume it before parting ways for the night. Surely, he had to have taken it. However, you soon realized he hadn't as his bones began to crack, his jacket splitting, his limbs elongating, sinews snapping as they stretched into monstrous proportions. Tufts of coarse fur erupted through the pores of his skin, accompanied by guttural growls that echoed through the air.

His face contorted, extending into a snout lined with razor-sharp teeth, while his eyes gleamed with a feral hunger. The sound of tearing flesh and popping joints filled the air as his body contended with the agonizing shift. The bones in his hands cracked, fingers lengthening into claws.

Despite Sirius's urgent cries echoing in your ears, you find yourself paralyzed, unable to tear your eyes away from the ghastly transformation unfolding before you. You watched the man you've loved for years at war with himself.

A mixture of horror and empathy grips your heart, immobilizing you as you witness Remus succumbing to the brutal grasp of lycanthropy. The grotesque spectacle leaves an indelible mark on your psyche, each agonized howl reverberating through your very soul.

A wave of sorrow sweeps over you, accompanied by a profound sense of helplessness. You long to reach out, to somehow alleviate the torment Remus endures, but the reality of his monstrous metamorphosis renders you powerless. Your chest tightens with a blend of sympathy for his suffering and a desperate desire to escape the impending danger.

As the nightmarish scene unfolds, your instincts clash with your compassion. The fear that grips you doesn't solely stem from the imminent threat of a werewolf but from the anguished recognition that the man you care about is trapped within that savage form. Though your rational mind urges you to flee, an emotional tether holds your gaze fixed on Remus, caught between the dread of what he has become and the lingering connection you feel for the man behind the monstrous facade.

"Run!" Sirius shouts. "Run!"

Finally snapping out of your haze, you watch in dread as Peter turns back into a rat, fleeing. You reason that the kids' safety is more important as you slowly move backward. Remus lets out an ominous howl before Snape appears seemingly out of nowhere. He grabs Potter by the shirt, ready to rip him a new one before hearing Remus letting out a low growl. Snape pushes the trio behind him, right before Remus swings, knocking him out of the way. You hear Hermione let out a frightened scream, the three holding each other close. You feel your legs move before realizing it, throwing yourself in front of them.

As his razor-sharp claws swipe through the air, you find yourself caught in the path of his vicious attack. The impact is swift, and a searing pain radiates across your face as you're sent sprawling to the ground.

The agony pulses through you, and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. Clutching your wounded face, you struggle to comprehend the sudden brutality of the encounter. The world blurs, and a mixture of fear and pain engulfs your senses. As you lie on the ground, vulnerable and wounded, the stark reality of Remus's transformation manifests in the most visceral way possible.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #older!remus lupin #older!remus lupin x reader #professor!remus lupin x reader #professor!remus lupin #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #hogwarts #jk rowling #sirius black

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