#the 'you can stay' was meant to be about the castle but i like it more being vague

[a-couple-of-notes]

I can’t believe I have to clarify this but I’m talking specifically about Glinda’s choice to stay behind in act 2. We can debate whether her choice to stay in Defying Gravity has any altruistic bent, but in act 2, her choice to stay in her position is firmly self-sacrificial and made out of love for Elphaba.

G: “I’ll tell them! I’ll tell them the truth!” / E: “they’ll just turn against you!” / G: “I don’t care!” / E: “well, I do! Promise me you won’t try to clear my name. Promise.” / G: “…Alright, I promise. But I don’t understand.” [For Good ensues.]

This is what I meant when I said the choice was initially cowardly and self-preservative (act 1) but then turns into the greatest act of love. Glinda in For Good is ready to pull a Fiyero. She wants to blow everything up, lose her status and comfort, risk her life, to do the right thing. (And come one now, this is like 10 minutes after Fiyero pulled the trigger on his grand gesture. They both functionally spent the same amount of time complicit in the shady government.) But Elphaba asks her to keep fighting, so she does.

And after an act dedicated to showing how difficult the fight is and how much Glinda hates her symbolic life, you can’t tell me that’s a lesser (or less moral) sacrifice than what Fiyero makes.

(Also Fiyero defects and is literally like “we can go to my family’s extra castle.” Like I know he’s giving up a lot but that is unintentionally so funny—you’re trying to tell me he had just as much to lose as Glinda and man has the Ozian equivalent of a family beach house in his back pocket?)

the thing about glinda staying behind is that it starts as an act of cowardice and self-preservation, but in the end it becomes the greatest act of love she can do for elphaba--to stay and take up her cause. in some ways, elphaba can only leave because she knows glinda will be there to keep fighting.

it's one of the reasons i go hmm when i see the argument that fiyero gets to be with elphaba because he makes the right/selfless choice where glinda could not. like yes, from one angle. but from another, he gets to be with elphaba because he never cares about oz/rightness the way elphaba does and glinda comes to--he is purely focused on elphaba. so he can go with her. but a story where glinda runs away with elphaba is a story where elphaba's fight cannot live on, where nothing of the home elphaba loved--even if that love was complicated--can be saved. i think that would be a different form of tragedy, personally.

we talk a lot about the hat and the cloak, glinda creating the wicked witch out of her love and affection for elphaba. but, y'know, i think we should also talk about how the reverse is true, too: elphaba creates glinda the good witch. some things elphaba cannot change, but she changes glinda, and that will make a difference.

[your-favourite-yapper]

Baby prongsfoot snowball fight for @mrstellmeafuckingsecret

the first snow comes overnight thick and heavy and perfect for packing james wakes up to it and yells for sirius before he’s even out of bed doesn’t even bother with socks just runs down the stairs two at a time already scooping up a handful of snow before sirius is even outside

"oi potter you cheating bastard" sirius yells shoving his arms into his coat as he barrels after him but it’s too late james has already launched the first attack and it lands square on sirius’s shoulder exploding in a shower of white

"too slow, pads," james crows darting backwards before sirius can retaliate but sirius is fast sirius has always been fast and his snowball lands right in james’s hair melting cold and sharp against his scalp

"right in your stupid messy hair," sirius laughs triumphant and james yelps shaking it out "unfair advantage you absolute tosser i wasn’t ready—" but sirius just grins smug and scoops up more snow and then it’s war it’s on

james ducks behind a tree and packs three snowballs in quick succession launching them at sirius one after another quick precise perfect but sirius doesn’t bother hiding just moves light and quick across the snow laughing all the while and james thinks he should be cold thinks his fingers should be numb but he isn’t because sirius is laughing and his cheeks are flushed red and his hair is a mess and his coat is slipping off one shoulder and he looks like something warm something alive something that makes james want to grab him by the wrist and pull him in "focus potter" sirius taunts knocking another snowball right into james’s chest

"oh you’re asking for it now," james huffs and before sirius can move james is tackling him into the snow they land with a thud and sirius huffs out a breath that turns to mist in the cold air and then he’s grinning "if you wanted to wrestle you should have said so," he teases and james laughs breathless still half on top of him neither of them moving just yet the snow cold beneath them and their breaths fogging up between them

"you yield?" james asks narrowing his eyes and pinning sirius’s wrists to the snow

"never," sirius grins then shoves up hard knocking james off balance rolling them over until he’s on top instead pressing james down into the snow and shoving some snow into his face fogging up james’s glasses and laughing as james curses beneath him

"bloody menace," james grumbles shoving at sirius’s shoulder and sirius just smirks "i know" they’re both soaked through by the time they call it a draw sirius’s gloves lost somewhere in the snow james’s scarf hanging off him in a tangled mess their noses red their fingers stiff but neither of them care because they’re laughing because sirius keeps shaking snow out of his hair and muttering about how "you’re lucky my hair is too godly to be messed up james or you’d have ruined me," and james is still trying to land another snowball into sirius’s side even as they trudge back toward the castle but then sirius grabs him by the wrist pulls him to a stop and shakes out his coat sending another shower of snow all over james

"payback," he says grinning and james gapes at him betrayed before shoving him back toward the door"prat," he grumbles but he’s grinning too and sirius just bumps their shoulders together all warm and solid beside him and james thinks maybe he wouldn’t mind being snowed in forever if it meant staying like this if it meant staying with him

[hylemorph]

Spoilers: Eggers' Nosferatu

There's a lot of debate right now on if Count Orlok represents Ellen's shame/trauma/abuse, or if he represents her repressed erotic desires, and in turn there's debate on whether or not viewers who find the Ellen/Orlok dynamic alluring are "missing the point." Eggers and Lily-Rose Depp have both said in interviews that there's a mutual pull between Ellen and Orlok, and even that there's a love triangle element, but obviously the experience is terrifying for Ellen. How can we reconcile the sexual tension and the horror?

I think the broader theme is that Orlok represents everything in a woman's inner world that men refuse to acknowledge and accept - fear and shame and trauma, yes, but also our appetites . After the prologue, the story starts with Ellen begging Thomas to stay in bed with her; she says "the honeymoon was yet too short" and tries to pull him in and kiss him (obviously trying to start some nuptial bliss). But Thomas is anxious to meet with his boss and get his promotion, because he has a narrative he's going to fulfill: he's going to pay Friedrich back, buy a house, and then start having kids (he and Friedrich touch on this a bit later. Notably, Friedrich discloses Anna's pregnancy to Thomas before Anna has made it public.)

It's the start of Ellen and Thomas' married life and she just wants him to prioritize her sexual desire, but he chooses to focus on his ideal of success, which sets him on this path to confronting Orlok. We know Ellen doesn't care about having a house or fine things and she begs him not to go, but Thomas listens to Herr Knock and Friedrich, who tell him that as a husband he has to provide materially. He ignores Ellen's stated desires, and so fails to provide sexually and emotionally. When Thomas gaslights her about her nightmares and calls them childish fancies, he shuts down her vulnerability, which kills the intimacy she was enjoying in the literal honeymoon phase.

On a related note, there's a defence in here for Aaron Taylor Johnson's performance, which I've seen a few male critics call "over acting." In this story Friedrich represents the masculine ideal of the time, he's a rich business owner with a beautiful wife and kids. Thomas clearly looks up to him and wants to emulate him - he wants to give Ellen the life "she deserves." But Friedrich's elevated masculine status is why he refuses to listen to Ellen's "hysterical, sentimental" worries, he's too rational for all that of course. And his stubborn "rationality" leads to the death of his entire family. Friedrich IS the patriarchal ideal that crumbles when confronted with nuance and uncertainty. Some people see Friedrich and assume that a character like him is meant to come across as dignified, and that Aaron Taylor Johnson is messing up by making him look annoying, but really he is giving a great portrayal of a really common, annoying kind of guy. The kind of guy who melts down and has childish tantrums whenever they lose control of a situation, or their manly skills and values are shown to be irrelevant.

The men in the movie (excluding Professor von Franz) frame Ellen as childish for speaking about her dreams candidly, but their own childishness is revealed when her dreams manifest in the form of Orlok and become unavoidable. Ellen (partially? possessed in the moment by Orlok) tells Thomas how "foolish and like a child" he was in Orlok's castle. In the literal context that's cruel, and obviously that shit was scary as hell, but it hits on Thomas' failure in the metaphorical reading. He was a child playing house: 'I'll be the husband and make money, you be the wife and make babies.' When it came time to confront his wife's inner world and all the scary, traumatized, lustful complexity of it, he was completely inept. The message isn't that Orlok is what Ellen really needs, or that Thomas is a wimp, but he's not a perfect husband either. I think "the point" is that a real healthy marriage with sexual, emotional, and spiritual mutuality is impossible in that society with Thomas/Friedrich's ideals. In that kind of society, a spiritually and sexually potent woman like Ellen ("in heathen times you might have been a Priestess of Isis") will always be caught in a "love triangle" with her husband and her own inner world.

[irisinluv]

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? PT 1

All I could do was stare at my reflection. This had to be a joke. I was going to wake up in my bed, right this instant.

“FUCK!”

Ok, so, pinching myself hurts. That’s fine. This is like. Some sort of lucid dream. What do they say to do if you’re lucid dreaming? Oh, that’s right, put your finger in your palm, it’ll phase through!

I resist the urge to scream as my finger meets solid flesh.

You see, I’m not in the right body. Or the right world from what I can tell. No, I’m supposed to be back home, waking up in a panic as I realize my alarm didn’t go off cuz my phone died after I stayed up way too late reading manga.

But of course, I’m not late to work, I’m in a lavish bedchamber right out of the latest webcomic I’d been reading! And by the looks of it…. I’m the crown princes crazy fiancé! As much as I love reading about the Isekai trope, I never wanted to be in one! And come on- as the Yandere Villain!? Couldn’t this at least be original? There’s hundred of stories just like “my next life as a villainess,” why couldn’t I be like… a stable hand or something? Ugh. Ok. Think!

I need to get home. Do the protagonists ever get back home in the stories I read? I pace around my room and rack my brain over every webcomic I’ve ever read, every manga I waited in line for, every anime I binged, even the unfinished manhwas! I can’t think of a single fucking one where they get home?

Well this isn’t going to stop me. I have a cat who’s going to absolutely flip if she’s not given fresh kibble in the morning. She has enough in her bowl for another 2 days but she needs it topped off ok! She’s a princess! I can’t be stuck here! Who’s going to throw her pompom toy for her if I’m not there???

What did all these have in common? What’s the barebones trope layout? Ok let’s see

1) person either died or falls asleep and wakes up in a new world…. Check

2) person is the villain!…. Check

3) to avoid the characters terrible death, person tries to change the story, ends up being new protagonist…

Ohhh… hey…. Do these Isekai characters ever just…. Play along? Even the “reincarnated as a baby” ones, they only play along till they’re old enough to try to run away or rework the political structure of the entire city. Maybe that’s it. Make it to the books natural end, and you’ll wake up where you belong. It’s like when you get part of a song stuck in your head. Play the whole song, and it’ll get out.

Ok, I’ve trained most of my adult life for this- I can totally ace this trope! I just have to stalk the crown prince, act totally in love with him, and be a bitch to the female lead. Then my finance will leave me, I’ll do some crazy dramatic act to try to kill the female lead, and then I’ll be exiled or executed, and wake up to feed my cat. How hard can it be?

Hard. It’s very hard.

Where the hell did he go!? My fiancé, the crown prince Eric, was JUST HERE. I swear! He turned that corner back there and then went down this hall… at least I think it was this hall? Ugh! This is impossible! For someone with such loud shoes and an armed escort, you’d think he’d be easier to follow! Now my feet just hurt. They don’t make these fancy shoes to run around the castle all day. They’re meant to daintily peek from beneath my many skirts as I host a tea party or some shit.

Ok. I’ve got this! I’ll just peek into each room until I find him, maybe I can get a better feel for the layout, or maybe find his office and see if he has a schedule or a day planner or something I can use to make this whole stalking thing easier.

I begin snooping, and it’s a bit of thrill to be honest! Back in my real life, I’m the kind of person to hide a wrapper deep in the trash can if I’m babysitting, sitting on the floor playing a game on my phone after the kid goes to bed rather than “making myself at home” the way the parents insisted as they showed me how to access Netflix. I’ve never been a snooper. Now…. Well. It’s totally on brand for this character! I’m not me, I’m a psycho lovesick fool! I giggle a bit at that as my fingers trail over a shelf of beautiful pottery in some sort of sitting room.

“What’s so amusing dearest?”

I practically screech as my heart leaps to my throat and I whirl around, and see the very person I’d been searching for has snuck up on ME…. That’s so unfair!

“W-what? O-oh! Nothing! I was just- uh, admiring the pottery?”

I stutter out as I try to recall how to act like a human being while simultaneously trying to stop feeling my own pulse in my ears. The idiot has the nerve to LAUGH! Full on snort and everything!

“What are you doing in this wing anyways? Weren’t you meant to be out riding today?”

Shit. I was so busy trying to figure out his schedule, I didn’t consider maybe the body I was shoved into had a schedule of her own. Ok. Play it cool- I’ve got this!

“Yes, well, I decided I wasn’t in the mood and wanted to stay in today instead.”

His brows furrow

“Oh, but you love riding? Are you feeling ill? I can fetch the royal physician for you if you-“

“No! That’s- that’s quite alright! I simply wanted a change of schedule, that is all. Um… what about you? What are your plans for the day?”

He looked a bit surprised at that, and a small smile danced on his lips.

“I was just going to the library to do some paperwork, boring stuff really, and then of course our dinner at its regular time.”

I nod like that means anything to me. Ok think, if I were crazy in love with this man, what would I say?

“Would you like some company? Reading in the library sounds really nice, maybe we could have some tea as well?”

Ok. I’m already fucking this up. He looks confused…. God damnit …. I knew I shouldn’t have skimmed over those early chapters- but the translation was shit ok!?

“Well… I’d actually love that. But are you sure? You haven’t exactly shown interest in reading, and you’ve never requested something like this before…. In fact I don’t think I can recall the last time we’ve interacted outside of dinner or a scheduled social event in… well. Ever.”

Wait…. What? Isn’t my character like goo-goo-ga-ga over him? Are you telling me she never asks to just… spend time with her lover? They only talk during dinner and parties or whatever?

“Of course, I think it’ll be relaxing! Just lead the way!”

My brain is working overtime as I smile politely at him as we reach the library and I pretend to browse for books. I’m missing something here. What is-

Oh. Shit. That’s right. I’m supposed to be really insecure and awkward about him. That’s why she stalks him- she spends all her free time obsessing over this man from the shadows, threatening the competition…. Yet chokes up when it comes to how to act natural. Her inferiority complex is what drives her entire character. And then to him, they’re just two nobles in an arranged marriage who speak on dull subjects like the weather and horse rides…. And who barely interact.

This must have been a real big shake up, she always stays out of sight, they never run into each other by chance. And she certainly never would ask to sit and read with him…. Maybe watch him do his work from a hidden keyhole somewhere, but that’s right…. She IS more of a traditional lady with her hobbies. She was raised to be the perfect noble wife, so naturally, her hobbies include things like dancing, needlepoint, and horse riding. The only studies she’s interested in are etiquette and things that noble ladies are supposed to know.

Well…. Shit. That’s so like me to already have fucked this up. But that’s ok. That’s ok- he’s going to meet the female lead and fall in love and so I just have to be the obstacle they need to overcome. Surely the details don’t matter too much…. It’s my first day in the job ok? Not everyone’s perfect!

I find a book that honestly actually sounds interesting, it’s historical, but it’s giving Hellen of Troy, the closest to a dark romance I think I’ll get from an academic personal library like this. I settle into what looks like the comfiest chair in the central area, and begin reading. The prince and I exist comfortably, the only sound being the scratch of his pen, and the occasional rustle of paper as he flips a document or I finish a page. We continue like this for several hours until he puts down his pen and clears his throat, getting my attention.

“I know it’s a long way from dinner…. But I was thinking I’d grab something light for a mid day meal and then take a walk about the gardens …. Would you care to join me?”

Honestly, some lunch and pretty royal gardens sounds like so much fun, so I agree. As we begin walking, I ponder how I can recover from all this.

You know what.. this can totally still go to plan. This is just me being the evil villain and sinking my claws into him! The female lead will appear, and I’ll reveal my true, nasty side to her! She’ll have to fight to save the prince from his marriage to me!

*insert evil laughter!*

“You’re smiling.”

“W-what?”

“A smile. It suits you. You’ve been doing that a lot today….. I like it.”

Ok and now I’m blushing. I go to reply when I suddenly find myself weightless for a moment, and then hit the ground with a hard thump.

“Ow! What the-!?”

My eyes snap up and glare at this pretty blonde girl who just rammed into me, and sent me flying

“Do you not know how to watch where you’re going!? Owww…. Ugh.”

Ok I’m sorry I’m usually a nice and understanding person but I’ve never been literally knocked over before! Who does that to a person?

Eric helps me to my feet and sends a reproachful glare toward the girl, asking me if I’m alright with most concerned look…. And the girl gasps and says,

“C-crown prince Eric! I apologize! I’d didn’t recognize you!”

She drops into a curtsy and lowers her eyes all demure and modest as if she hadn’t just bulldozed me. I send an incredulous look toward Eric…. She… didn’t see HIM? I’m the one she took out? He gives me an equally puzzled look and so I decide, you know what, fuck it. I’m this evil person in this world…. I need to act like it!

“And not recognizing his highness is an excuse for taking out the princess consort, soon to be crown princess? Are you blind or just daft?”

Oh my god I really just called someone daft! This feels like when you stay up late thinking all the witty comebacks you could’ve used against your high school bullies, except actually using them in the moment!

And Eric is being a sweetie and letting me handle this, waiting expectantly for blondie to answer me, just prompting her,

“Well?”

“Forgive me…. Princess consort…. You are right. My oversight in inexcusable. It appears neither of us were looking where we were going. I hope we can start fresh!”

I scoff- that’s it? Who does this bitch think she is? Yes, I was looking at Eric, but I was going a walking pace, who rounds a corner with so much force that you knock someone over?

Suddenly something clicks- oh shit! This is the female lead!!!! This scene happened in the story, just without the prince here. This is good, that means this is on track. Although I gotta say- I was much more on the female main characters side when reading it. Now, I just feel like she’s one of those mean girls in high school who’s not *technically* doing anything mean. Anyways- what was I supposed to say? That’s right.

“Yes…. Well. I’m sure we won’t be seeing much of each other anyways. If you’ll excuse me-“

Nailed ittttt…. Now her line?

“Well, actually…. My name is Lady Cressida, and I’ll be staying in the place for several months as my father is a foreign ambassador overseeing trade agreements with his highness the king. So I imagine we will be seeing *plenty* of each other. That goes for you too your highness! So please- forgive me, I look forward to getting to know each of you better!”

Oh that’s so cool, seeing her recite the lines from the story. But ok- I have a role to play as well. I scoff and grab Eric’s arm, pulling him behind me as I storm off, playing the part of entitled lover, stuck up and irritated at this ambassadors daughter who DARED to speak to my love.

Yea, this will work, Eric will think Cressida is a genuine sweetie, and see me as being the unreasonable bitch who’s refusing to accept her apology, or apologize for not looking where I was going either. And now I’m manhandling him- totally unlady like. God I’m killing this aren’t I? Minimum wage job and demanding cat, here I come!

What I don’t see, as I lead Eric by the arm, is the cold glare he shoots towards Cressida, before smiling down at our connected hands, an unreadable look in his eyes.

Part 2

SERIES IS DISCONTINUED- sorry y’all, just not inspired to write this anymore and don’t wanna force it.

[girllblogging777]

hi congrats on 1k!! can i please request a cinnamon tinged tale with mattheo riddle with a scenario where they have a fight and go to bed seperate but they both can’t sleep without each other!!

𝑈𝑁𝑆𝑃𝑂𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑃𝑅𝑂𝑀𝐼𝑆𝐸𝑆 ˚ ༘✶

↳ bf!mattheo riddle x reader (angst, fluff)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.5k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 :you and your boyfriend can’t sleep without eachother, but you had an argument

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

mattheo’s dorm was unnaturally quiet tonight. no whispers, no soft rustling of sheets, no stolen glances or quiet giggles. just silence, cold and deafening. he laid flat on his back, arms crossed behind his head, his jaw tense as he stared up at the dark ceiling of his room. the argument replaying in his mind on an endless, bitter loop.

he exhaled sharply through his nose. maybe he was an idiot like you had told him. scratch that. he definitely was. your words, heated and full of hurt, had ricocheted off the walls like a spell gone wrong. and instead of deflecting, instead of softening, he’d snapped back with the kind of sharpness he reserved for enemies. not for you. never for you.

but now you were gone. well, not gone-gone, but you weren’t here. you had stormed out of his dorm, muttering something about needing “space.” space. mattheo didn’t even know what to do with space.

his mind wandered to you. where were you now ? back in your own bed, curled up with that damn blanket you refused to replace no matter how many times he teased you about it? where you crying? did you hate him?

the ache in his chest tightened, like a hand gripping his heart. he turned to his side, punching the pillow beneath him in frustration. he needed you, your scent of cinnamon, your quiet murmurs before sleep, the way your hand would instinctively find his beneath the covers. without you, the room felt emptier than it had any right to.

across the castle, you sat cross-legged on your bed, staring out the window. the moon hung low, bathing the grounds in silver light, but your thoughts were anything but serene.

why had you said those things? you hadn’t meant to snap at him. it wasn’t his fault he was reckless, it was just who he was. you knew that, knew it better than anyone. but still, watching him flirt with danger, walking that fine line between thrill and disaster, it drove you insane. you cared too much to stay silent.

you sighed, hugging your knees to your chest. the bed felt too big, too cold without him. even on nights you two argued, you would always ended up tangled together, legs overlapping, breaths mingling. it was impossible to stay away from him and not to break the castle’s rules by sneaking into each other’s rooms past curfew. but tonight, you were alone.

minutes stretched into hours and you kept tossing and turning, thinking about him. at the same moment, mattheo swung his legs out of bed, running a hand through his messy curls. he didn’t care if he’d get caught. he didn’t care if you were still angry. he needed to see you.

suddenly, your bedroom door swung open and you turned around, eyes widening. “mattheo ?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. he stood there, unsure of what to say “i uh… i can’t sleep…”

“neither can i,” you admitted softly, watching him intently.

he stepped closer, his hand twitching at his sides. “i’m sorry, baby. i was a dick. you were just trying to look out for me and i lashed out, it wasn’t fair.”

your heart clenched at his honest words and you looked up at him, “i shouldn’t have pushed you, matt, i just worry about you too much. and sometimes, i feel like i care more about you than you do”

his brows furrowed and he finally reached out, his hand softly brushing against your cheek. “i do care. about me. about us. but i’m just… stupid sometimes.”

you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh, leaning into his touch. “yup, you are.”

a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “does that mean i’m forgiven ?” you pretended to think a moment before answering, sighing. “only if you stay.”

and he didn’t need to be told twice.

moments later, you two were tangled together in your bed, your head resting on his chest as his fingered traced lazy, absentminded patterns on your back. neither of you spoke at first. the quiet felt sacred, too delicate to shatter. but mattheo couldn’t let it end there, not when he had so much to say.

“i don’t ever wanna go to bed mad at you again.” he murmured, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. his fingers stilled against your back, waiting for your response.

you tilted your head up, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes met his. “me neither,” you whispered back, “i hate how it feels, matt.”

he nodded, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin in the dark. “i know, love,” he admitted, “it feels wrong. everything feels wrong without you. i’m sorry i made you feel like i don’t care.” he paused for a second and you waited, silent.

“i care, baby. i care so much if scares the hell out of me sometimes.”

you could see it in his eyes, the way his walls had crumbled entirely for you and how painful that felt for him. mattheo riddle, who always unshakeably confident, was laying himself bare for you.

“i know,” you said in a steady voice. you reached up, your hand curling around his wrist. “but i’ll keep worrying about you, you know ? that’s not gonna change..”

he chuckled, the sound now and warm in the quiet room. “i figured, love. i don’t deserve you.”

“damn right you don’t,” you teased, your lips twitching into a genuine smile. then your voice softened “ but that doesn’t mean i’m going anywhere.”

the tension in mattheo’s body eased at your words, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you as to shield you from the world. you felt the way his lips brushed against the top of your head, a soft gesture that made your heart flutter.

“i love you,” he said quietly, the words slipping out as naturally as breathing.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as your heart pounded against your chest.

for the first time that night, the heavy weight between you lifted and the two of you stayed like that, your breaths syncing and limbs tangled in complete and utter peace. because no matter how messy you were, how much you clashed or stumbled, you always found your way back to eachother.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : tysm for this amazing idea ! tell me if you wanna be tagged and check out my 1k celebration for more !

@redeemingvillains @leona-hawthorne @shiftingwithmars @tateshifts @rose-of-the-grave @clar2aa @iris-qt @sp7-mr @deadghosy @deadsnakey @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithleah @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @yikesitslush @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf @reidol0gy @kenjikishimotoswifey @2dloveshp @hisparentsgallerryy @riddlesgrl

[illbegottenfaith]

the one where you scold theo for dozing off

a/n - was inspired by this post + a tiktok I saw where this girl was talking about how her boyfriend games till like 3 am with his friends but nods off at like 9 pm with her and all the comments were like girl he's so relaxed w you cuz of how much he loves you and it was all just soooo cute 😭😭 anyways enjoyyy :))

tropes/warnings - flufffff, eepy theo, established relationship, cuddling idk

word count - 830

taglist - @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @iamheretoread1234

"Teddy."

"Teddy?"

"Theodore."

One hard shove to his sternum later, Theo's eyes flew open.

"'M up - "

You gave him the stink eye as he coughed sporadically, choking on his saliva. You sniffed disapprovingly.

"Honestly, Teddy. I didn't bring you here to nap."

Theo glanced around incredulously. The two of you were sitting on a picnic blanket on the side of a grassy knoll on the other side of the Great Lake. After indulging in some chocolate-covered berries, a sleepy, hazy kind of quiet had descended on the hill in that late afternoon sun. In short, it was a perfectly comfortable setting for napping.

He winced, rubbing at his sternum. "Oh, c'mon. You feed me these - these fuckass strawberries - "

"Don't talk about my strawberries that way!"

" - then you lie me down and expect me to stay awake? It's warm out, cara. I sleep warm. You know I sleep warm."

Scoffing, you lie down next to him, muttering darkly under your breath. Still, you can't resist running your fingers through his hair, gently raking at his scalp. It's an addicting thing, watching the tense parts of his face relax, watching that crease between his eyebrows disappear. Some of your earlier anger dissipates.

“You are so easy,” you tease, fingers still carding through his hair.

“Only for you, amor,” he murmurs, voice low and knowing.

Your face burns. “Merlin, shut up.”

Chuckling, he stretched his arms over his head before letting them fall lazily back down, one draping across your back. He tugged you against him, his warmth seeping into you.

"How is it that you can stay up till 3 am with your friends, but ten minutes with me and you're out like a light?" you mused. You pull your fingers away from his scalp.

"Am I that boring, Theo? Do I put you to sleep?"

Theo huffed a quiet laugh, his fingers ghosting over your shoulder before settling there, warm and grounding. His other hand found the curve of your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer.

"Obviously," he murmured, voice still thick with drowsiness. "You drone on and on - "

A sharp pinch to his ribs cut him off, making him suck in a breath through his teeth. "Fuck - alright, alright." His grip tightened, holding you in place before you could enact further vengeance. "You don't put me to sleep."

Theo's half-lidded eyes fluttered shut again, his breathing evening out. His fingers resumed their slow tracing along your arm, dragging lazy patterns that sent shivers up your spine. As your own eyelids grew heavier, your eyes drifted over the lake’s glimmering surface.

"Actually," you murmured after a beat, pressing your cheek against his chest, "this is quite nice."

Theo made a show of pretending to shove you off.

"I see how it is," he grumbled as you laughed. "When you want to doze, it's perfectly fine, but Merlin forbid I"—he poorly stifled a yawn, blinking blearily—"get a little shut-eye."

You scoffed. "This is different. Even logistically speaking, how am I supposed to drag you back to the castle? You sleep through anything, Nott."

Theo grunted. "And you sleep through absolutely nothing."

You smiled lazily against his chest, knowing exactly what he meant. Many a night, he'd creep into your dorm, taking great pains to quietly shuck off his jacket and shoes, only for you to stir the second the mattress dipped. He’d scowl at you in the dim moonlight as you blinked at him sleepily, voice hushed but teasing as he slipped under the covers beside you. Every single time, he’d scold you for staying up, telling you in that firm, low voice of his to go to sleep, as if he hadn't been the one showing up at your bedside to begin with.

"Maybe you should try staying up with me for once," you said idly.

Theo snorted. "You'd make me watch those god-awful Muggle films."

"You love my god-awful Muggle films."

He hummed, neither confirming nor denying. You tilted your head to look at him, absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair again.

"I just wish you'd save some of that energy with the boys for me."

Theo sighed, long and slow.

"Can’t help it," he mumbled into your hair, fingers ghosting over your arm. "You’re so...warm. And soft. And you smell - " he dropped his head to the hollow of your neck as he inhaled, holding you close even as you squirmed in his ticklish hold, "- like that. Like...home. Like love."

You could sense him dropping off again in the way his words slurred and his voice quieted. He was probably too drowsy to even know what he was saying. For a moment, all was silent except for the rustling that came with the occasional gentle breeze. You felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of him pressing into your side.

Maybe you should shove him awake again. But then again…

You nestled closer to him, your own eyes drooping shut.

Maybe not.

[hotwritergf]

Boyfriend!Eddie finds your porn history. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb🍆

Word count- 1.2k

🍆 “Hey baby.. umm I don’t wanna embarrass you..”Eddie was sprawled across the couch, his limbs representing an octopus whilst his curls fell down the arm of the couch. You had let him borrow your laptop, Dustin had split soda over Eddie’s during their latest dnd campaign. He smiles as he notices your wall-paper is a picture of the pair of you, that trip to the forest was one of your favourites.

“Huh?” You spoke, confusion filling the air. You were easily embarrassed so just the thought of being embarrassed made your face flush. “It’s just, I lost my page I was working on so- so I went on the history page to find it again. But I didn’t just find my campaign document, I saw your umm history. Baby I, I don’t want you to be embarrassed I mean we all do it right?” Your face burns under his words, you know exactly what he’s stumbled across.

“Seriously doll, your choices here.. My innocent little girl, isn’t so innocent huh?”He smirks, eyes gazing over your flushed face. You feel stuck to the floor, like any moment now the ground is going to open up and swallow you whole. “Eddie-“ You finally manage to muster up the courage to speak, your words causing your stomach to churn in shyness. “It’s okay. It’s all okay princess. I’m impressed, I mean let’s see here. ‘Blonde babe worships her step-father’s sweaty balls’ Well that’s filthy isn’t it? ‘Anal training’ Oh? You want me to take that other little hole for a test drive? ‘Double penetration mmf threesome.’ Sweet girl I had no idea you could be so kinky! Look at this here. ‘Submissive girl has play time with Daddy.’ Is that me? I’m your daddy?” He teases, his smirk practically audible in his voice as he teases. Your embarrassed self can’t handle much more. He was never meant to see this, these searches they were just late night curiosity. Late night self pleasure when Eddie couldn’t be there with you.

You nod, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Your hands need to be doing something as the anxiety reaches your throat. You swallow it down and gulp in nervousness as Eddie walks towards you. He takes his hand and caresses your face softly. His touch both exhilarating and comforting under the current circumstances. “You weren’t meant to see that.” You swallow the saliva collected in your mouth. “It’s just… porn. For when you’re not here and I- well you know the rest.” You speak so quietly that you could hear a pin drop in the room, the atmosphere was tense but he couldn’t seem more relaxed. Eddie’s smile beams, under the knowledge they were really your searches and you didn’t try and lie your way out of it.

“And are those the sorts of desires my princess has been having on those oh-so-lonely nights where she’s banished to stay in her castle?” He speaks in his dungeon master voice, running his index finger down your throat, smirking as he watches your throat gulp and the goosebumps appearing down your neck and arms. Your feet feel superglued to the floor, stuck in confrontation you can do nothing but stare at the carpet, looking your boyfriend in the eye seems alien in this moment.

“Yes. But don’t think you have to indulge me! If you’re not comfortable we never have to do any of that. I’ll never force you Eds.” You babble, worrying about every word in your speech sounding patronising or rude. You look up to him, doe-eyed with a hint of regret. He smiles, holding the back of your head softly. Cupping your chin with his finger he raises your head to meet him at eye level.

“Oh darling girl. How naive. I would move the heavens and earth for you. You’re asking me to fill both of your holes, let you call me daddy and worship my balls while they’re sweaty? It’s filthy. It’s a little taboo. Perverse maybe. Letting my girl worship me and being able to spoil both of her holes with pleasure? It’s a mere inconvenience, I mean you’re really gonna have to pay me back for this sweetheart you know.” Eddie jokes, speaking in his dungeon master voice again. Knowing that voice always flusters you, as if you needed to be any more flustered.

Staring at the floor, “So you’re okay with it?” You ask earnestly. “More than okay. In fact, come to think of it.. I haven’t showered yet today. Definitely haven’t shaved my balls in ummmm ever? How about you take that pretty face of yours down there and make your daddy feel good?” You needed no further encouragement, you’d already been hiding your arousal from the embarrassment of being found out about your kinks, humiliation being another one.

You unbuckled and shimmied off Eddie’s jeans, palming him through his boxers as he grunts your name and several curse words. He was hard as a rock already, and a small wet patch over his boxers where he’d begun to leak a bead of pre-cum. Instincts took after and you licked up the wet stripe of his underwear, vaguely tasting his salty fluid. With your face so close to his underwear clad genitals, you couldn’t help but breathe in his scent. The odour of sweat and pre-cum mixed together was your perfect aphrodisiac. Nestling your face into his hard on, you inhale all you can of him. Eddie slides off his boxers and takes his cock into his hand, jerking it slowly whilst looking down at you. You look up with ‘fuck me’ eyes and a cheeky smile, removing his hand from his length.

You lean upwards, placing your nose under his cock. His pubes tickle your nose as you lick circles over his fuzzy balls, swallowing the loose hairs that collect on your tongue. “Dirty fucking girl aren’t you? So gross.” Eddie mutters through his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. You smirk, all innocence leaving your body. You steady your hand on the tip of his cock as it begins to leak again, taking one of his balls into your mouth and suckling as if it was a pacifier. You speak as best as you can whilst sucking onto him. The noises you make aren’t translate-able, they’re more-so moans and groans. “Don’t speak with your mouthful angel.” Eddie coos, taking your hair into a ponytail and holding it behind your head. He forces his ball out of your mouth and guides your mouth onto his cock. “M’so close.” He grunts as he fucks your mouth, pulling you backwards and forwards onto his dick so far down your throat that you’re gagging. You slurp up the salvia that begins to dangle from his length. He comes undone in your mouth, emptying the fuzzing balls that were once in your mouth and you taste the liquid that you’ve had a hunger for. A rope of cum hangs from your lip and he wipes it up with his finger, before helping you swallow the last drop from sucking it up off of his finger.

“Thank you daddy.” You look up at Eddie with a shit-eating grin like butter wouldn’t melt. “My good little girl.” He responds, you mentally thank yourself for never clearing your search history. 🍆

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 2: The Neglect

The drive to the airport only made you feel more nervous about living here; you’ve only ever known Goodsprings, a town so small you could see everything in less than an hour, and now here’s a giant city that makes you feel like an ant. Even Vegas seems small to Gotham. And if their size wasn’t bad enough, the buildings’ weird stone creatures looked like they were waiting to fly off and scoop you up.

Luckily, your Daddy’s house is outside the city, surrounded by a wall with large fields behind them. It made you feel a little better that you wouldn’t be surrounded by so many people all the time.

“And here we are, Master Y/N,” Mr. Pennyworth says as he pulls up in front of the massive mansion.

You get out and start to feel even more nervous. This isn’t a house, it’s a castle! Like the ones Momma showed you when she was researching stuff for her books. You’d probably need a map just to find the bathroom!

But, Mr. Pennyworth climbs up the stairs to the front door and you don’t want to make him mad, so you follow behind him. He opens the door and you’re inside a massive room with a giant grand staircase with a long red rug leading up to a second level that you can see leads to other places in the mansion.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor, Master Y/N. If you’ll follow me to your room, please.”

He leads you to the second level and down a few hallways to a room on the other side of the mansion. As you walk, you can’t help but think that all of Goodsprings could live here and there still be lots of room left.

“I apologize for the walk, but as Master Wayne and I have been the only two long term residents of the manor, the rooms meant for the family have not been in a suitable state for quite some time. And since it’s been some time since we’ve had guests stay over, the usual guest rooms have been repurposed for storage. I’m working on having one of the family bedrooms ready for you as soon as possible so you’ll be close to your father.”

“It’s alright,” you say, your voice almost a whisper. You really didn’t expect the butler to be so nice to you. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.”

He frowns a bit, but says nothing before opening the door to reveal a room smaller than your one back home. A bed sits in the far corner of the room with a dresser directly in front of it, a big tv sitting on top of it. There’s a door to the right where you enter the room.

“That door leads to your bathroom, Master Y/N. We have some time before the movers come with your belongings. Would you like to see the rest of the manor?”

“No, thank you. I think I wanna sleep after we put everything up.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted. If you want, I can handle collecting the boxes while you rest. I can leave them outside your door for you to deal with later.”

“I can help, Mr. Pennyworth.”

He seems a little surprised that you insisted on helping, but he says nothing before leading you back outside where a delivery truck stops behind the car. Since all you had was a few cardboard boxes that had nothing but clothes, toys, stuffed animals, books, and decorations, it didn’t take long to bring it all to your room and set everything up. As you look at your new room with all your stuff in it, you can’t help but feel like none of it belongs here.

That you don’t belong here.

“Do you need anything else, Master Y/N? Perhaps something to eat?”

“No thank you, Mr. Pennyworth. I just wanna sleep.”

“Very good. But just know, when you wake up, you will be eating something.”

You just nod and close the door, turning off the lights before crawling into bed. As you get settled, you can’t help but notice how cold the house feels. Yeah, you’re not in Nevada anymore, where it can go over a hundred degrees in the summer, but it’s like the house blocks any kind of heat, leaving only the cold. You close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

You wake up, dreaming of your Momma yelling for you and being in a car when something slams into you, and when you look around your room, you’re greeted by absolute darkness. As if the sun had completely disappeared. You jump out of bed and rush to the light switch, slapping it. When the lights come on, you realize that the lightbulb above you is dim and without the sun, it barely lights up your room. Wanting to be where it’s bright, you run out of your room and down the hall only to find the rest of the house is just as dim as your room, almost like no one in this house likes the light. Your little legs carry you down the same route you took earlier today and fortunately, the foyer is completely lit up by a giant crystal chandelier.

You run down the stairs and into another hall near the staircase. You pass by large room after large room and finally find yourself in a fancy kitchen, Mr. Pennyworth standing in front of a giant refrigerator.

“Master Y/N,” he says. “Are you alright?”

“Yes sir,” you say, not wanting to worry the man.

“But you’re out of breath. And you’re sweating.”

It’s then you notice that your forehead is slick with sweat and your chest is heaving. When you look up at the butler, you can tell he’s obviously worried about you.

“I got scared,” you admit. “I woke up and it was so dark.”

“I would imagine since it’s nighttime.” You jump a little at that. “You’ve been asleep for over twelve hours. I would’ve waken you up, but you looked like you needed the rest.”

“I haven’t slept so good since Momma…” You can’t bring yourself to say it. “Left.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, my boy.” He walks over to you and bends down to your height. “I could tell that you and your Mother were close and losing her so sudden is something no one so young should go through. I know that she can never be replaced, but I promise you that Master Bruce and I will be here for you and will help you with whatever you need.”

You feel the empty feeling that’s been with you since Momma died shrink just a little bit. Maybe you aren’t as alone as you thought.

“Alfred,” a deep voice lungs from behind you. You both look back to see a tall man with black hair and blue eyes standing in the hall. “I’m about to head out.”

“Master Bruce,” Mr. Pennyworth says, standing up. “This is Master Y/N. He’s awoke from his nap just a moment ago.”

You feel your heart stop at the man’s name. This is your Daddy? A million different questions swirled around in your head, like what was he like, what’s his favorite thing to do, did he remember your Momma?

He looks down at you. “Oh,” he says, a blank look on his face. “Hello.” With that, he turns around and begins walking down the hall. “I’ll be in touch, Alfred. From the sound of it, it’s gonna be a busy night.”

You feel your heart split in two at the way he just completely ignored you. Did you do something wrong? But you didn’t even say anything!How can he be bad at you if you haven’t said anything? You do your best to not cry as you look up at Mr. Pennyworth, who’s very angry.

“I’m sorry, Master Y/N. I know he’s throwing himself into his work to deal with Master Jason’s death, but that behavior is absolutely unacceptable. I’ll make sure he apologizes for that in the morning.”

Unfortunately, your Daddy didn’t say he was sorry when you woke up that morning. In fact, he wasn’t there when Mr. Pennyworth brought you down for breakfast, his work said there was someone important at one of his offices outside the country, so he hopped in his plane long before you woke up.

You were hurt, but Mr. Pennyworth said that he’d make sure that when things calmed down, you and your Daddy would have a long talk. You could do nothing but nod, trying not to cry because all you wanted was your Momma to walk through the door and take you back home. You got even more lonely when you started your new school, Gotham Academy, which is where all of Gotham’s rich people send their kids; Goodsprings Elementary wasn’t even half the size of this school and to make things worse, you had no friends here. That’s not to say that people didn’t want to talk to you, somehow news got out that you, the love child between Bruce Wayne and some unknown woman, were attending Gotham Academy, older and younger students shared your the moment you walked through the door. Hearing them ask you about your Momma only made you miss her more, so you stayed quiet.

They found something new to latch on to later in the week when your Daddy adopted Tim Drake, a boy whose parents were just as well known as him; his parents were killed in a plane crash and Daddy took him in. When they found out that the famous Tim Drake was now the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you were forgotten about. They asked him what Wayne Manor was like, how’d he feel to be adopted by Bruce Wayne, and other questions you didn’t really understand.

You were excited about Tim joining the family, though; you often wonder what having a brother would be like and you two were very close in age. It would be nice to have someone other than Mr. Pennyworth to talk to. Maybe the two of you could play Pokémon together!

You walked up to him the day Mr. Pennyworth told you that he’d be living at the manor with you, excited to get to know your newest family member, but that excitement quickly died when he took one look at you and walked away, like you weren’t interesting to him. You tried over and over to get him to like you, to get him to play with you, to at least look at you, but he just pushed you away (very harshly). And if things weren’t bad enough, he and Daddy spent every night together, locked away in the library.

It wasn’t fair! You were here first and had yet to talk to him, but Tim gets to spend time with him! And every time you tried to join, they just pushed you away, like you were some kind of fly buzzing around them. When that door closed, you wouldn’t see them until the next morning, so they were probably watching movies in there or something just as fun. You lived with three other people and you somehow felt more alone than ever since Momma died.

You met Dick a year later, around the anniversary of Momma’s death. At first, you were excited because Mr. Pennyworth said he was very friendly and had grown up in a circus before being adopted by Daddy, so he could do all sorts of tricks. Maybe you’d finally have a friend who wasn’t the butler.

Unfortunately, this ended in disappointment, too. Sure, it started off nice, he greeted you warmly (at least more warmly than your Daddy or Tim had) and ruffled your hair. You were so happy, you thought you’d explode. Finally, you had someone that you can spend time with.

“Dick,” your daddy said in his usual tone less voice.

“Sorry, baby bird, gotta go! We’ll hang out soon, though, promise!”

“Soon” never came though. He came over a few times during the day to spend time with Tim, either helping him with homework or taking him to Bat Burger, but never you. He always said that he promised to hang out with Tim and he’d do the same with you, but after the fifth time it happened, you stopped trying. He also spend time with Tim and your Daddy in the library at night, none of them coming out for the rest of the night.

Barbara came into your life little bit after Dick. When you saw her rolling in her wheelchair, you felt bad and offered to push her around. She snapped at you, saying she was fine and didn’t need your help. That was the first, last, and only time you talked to her. When you saw her spending time with your “family” in the library, you weren’t even hurt because you had grown used to it.

Cassandra and Stephanie came in around the same time when you nine. Stephanie was a burst of energy and it actually surprised you; Wayne Manor seemed to cancel out all noise and forced anyone inside it to be silent (at least that how it was for you) and she seemed to be happy to meet you. That lasted all of a week, though, and she quickly lost interest like a puppy that had grown up and was no longer cute to its owners.

Cassandra looked at you once, like he was trying to solve some mystery, and that was it. Alfred told you that she was mute and you did your best to learn ASL to better communicate with her. You picked up some of the basics, but not enough to carry on an actual conversation, so you opted to carry a little notepad with you so she could write things down, but when she kept ignoring you in favor of interacting with the rest of the family, you got the message. And when she and Stephanie spent time with your “family” in the library night after night, you stopped referring to Bruce as your Daddy. It was clear he didn’t want the title.

You had Alfred, anyway. Spending nights baking, helping him with his chores, and talking about your day over tea was enough for you.

Jason came back (from the dead) when you were ten. You met him when you caught him trying to sneak into the mansion through a window instead of coming through the door like a normal person (then again, you’ve long since realized that no one in this place is normal. Except Alfred.). Your meeting ended when he gave you a black eye and told you to stay away from him when all you did was say hi. You cried the entire night because you had school pictures the next day. It was a while before Jason started making regular appearances, but when he did, you weren’t surprised to see him spending nights in the library. When he glared at you, his blue eyes turning green, you asked Alfred to let you eat in your room and the man agreed to bring your meals to you.

When you were fifteen, the last one of join the Wayne Family was your biological brother, Damian. And the day you two met, you became convinced he only existed to make your pathetic life a living hell because the moment Alfred introduced you to him, he pulled an actual sword on you, giving you a small scar on your left cheek. You could do nothing but fall on your ass and look up in horror as this ten-year-old boy from hell raised his sword, spouting some nonsense about him being the “true blood son,” that you were “nothing more than the son of a harlot,” and how he will “be the one to inherit his father’s legacy.” For a moment, you thought you were about to be killed by the little bastard when Bruce appeared from out of nowhere and carried him off, Damian shouting threats and insults at you the entire time.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” Dick said as he helped you up. “Are you ok?”

“What do you think,” you shouted at him. “That monster just sliced my face with a sword and tried to kill me!”

“Hey, don’t call him a monster,” he responded, give you a look of disappointment. “He had a difficult upbringing and he’s having to get used to Gotham and living with us. You should try to be a good big brother and support him.”

For a moment, you thought you suffered from a stroke and had misheard him, but the look on his face said you heard him correctly.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? He tries to kill me and I’m suppose to just let it go?”

“There’s no need for that kind of language, Y/N.”

You deemed the “conversation” a lost cause and leave, Dick calling out to you before going to the wing that holds the master bedrooms. Fortunately, Bruce kept bringing in other people to be a part of this demented family, so you were stuck with the tiny guest room that didn’t even have a window. But, it was far away from them, so it was a good trade.

After that, it seemed like Damian made it his mission in life to make your life hell. You couldn’t pass by him without him insulting you, hurting you, or bringing up your Momma, which would lead to you crying your eyes out. And when he started collecting pets, he would send them after you, Titus and Alfred the Cat chasing you throughout the manor, forcing you to barricade yourself in your room.

That leads to today: you accidentally dropped your Momma’s pen while walking to the kitchen and unfortunately, Damian was around the corner, watching the entire thing. He was able to move faster than your eyes could follow and before you knew it, he had swooped down and grabbed it just as you were about to. You look up in horror as he stares down at you with his usual smug and condescending expression as he waves the pen around, clearly mocking you.

“Your reflexes are slow and pathetic, inferior. You’re a massive disappointment to the Wayne bloodline.” He stares at the pen with disgust. “While this pen is poorly made and lacks any craftsmanship, it’s still more than a failure like you deserves.”

You stand up to your full height, trying to ignore the burning desire to tackle the little brat and bash his stupid head in. “Give that back to me. Now.” You realize you’re practically grinding your teeth to powder.

“I don’t take orders from you, inferior,” he bites back, his green eyes glaring at you. “You’re far beneath me. I come from two perfect bloodlines and that makes me superior to you by rite of birth. Your whore of a mother somehow managed to slither her way into my father’s bed and bring you into the world. You might have Wayne blood, but your tainted blood dilutes it.” He gets in your personal space nod even when looking up at you, he still tries to assert whatever dominance he thinks he has. “We will never be equals.”

You use this opportunity to grab the arm holding your Momma’s pen. As expected, he does not take kindly to this.

“You dare lay your hands on me,” he screeches, wrenching his hand away.

You don’t know how, but the little shit has impressive strength. Sure, you’re not an athlete (you’ve stayed roughly the same height since you hit puberty and can’t build muscle mass to save your life), but he shouldn’t have this kind of upper body strength! But, you’re determined to reclaim the pen, so you grab his hand with your other one and start pulling with all your might, doing whatever you can to break his grasp of it.

“Let go of me, you filthy interloper!” With a big tug, he breaks your grip and you can only look on in terror as he walks over to the kitchen window. “If you want this pen so much, you can look for it out there!” In a flash, he opens the nearby kitchen window and hurls your pen outside, where a massive downpour drenches the yard.

You can’t help but look on as it flies far from the mansion and out of your field of vision; on the ground, you see a ripple in the middle of the massive lake of rainwater and mud that the storm has created over the last three days of nonstop rain, indicating that your precious pen is now underwater.

In that moment, you feel nothing but immense sadness at your pen’s loss and unbridled rage at the one who did caused it. Every last thing he’s done to you flood your mind and you feel your face becomes incredibly flushed, your vision goes blood red in rage, and hot, angry tears stream from your eyes; before you know it, you’re right behind him, his back still turned to you from throwing your pen.

“You son of a bitch,” you shout at the top of your lungs, causing him to turn his head as you quickly deliver a swift backhand to his left check, the sound of your hand striking him echoing in the kitchen.

You know he shouts something back, but you’re so filled with rage that his words fail to reach your ears. You know he’ll retaliate and probably get in trouble with Bruce and Dick, but you don’t care. You’re pissed off and want nothing more than to inflict even a small amount of pain onto him, so that he’d feel even an ounce of what he’s made you feel since you two met. Using your height advantage, you grab both his shoulders and with all your rage-enhanced strength, you shove him to the floor, loving the sight of him wincing when he lands on his rear, but instead of looking up at you in fear like you wanted, he has a pissed off look.

Realizing that finding your pen is more important than dealing with him, you sprint to the door, throw it open, and dash into the rain, not caring that your clothes were completely soaked after only a few seconds and the wind froze you to the core. All that matters is finding that pen, the only piece of Momma that you were able to take with you, something so precious to her she refused to go anywhere without it.

Except that day, when she was taken from you and your life fell apart.

You wade through the many puddles, your socks providing no support so you stumble and fall, getting even more wet. But you pick yourself up and keep running until your at the puddle far from the house and that’s when you get on your hands and knees and start waving around hoping to touch even a little bit of the metal. You feel nothing, but you don’t let up, moving around the puddle, not caring that you’re getting more and more soaked with every second and that mud is slathered over your arms and legs.

“Come on,” you shout to yourself, getting more and more upset. “Come on, where are you?”

Finally, you feel something small, metallic, and cylindrical. You latch onto it like a lifeline and pull it up so hard the force of it makes you fall on your back, the puddle covering your entire body. You quickly sit up to see Momma’s pen. Wet and covered in mud, sure, but it’s back where it belongs. Now that the urge to find it is over, your senses quickly catch up and your realize your freezing, shivering, and soaked to the bone.

You run back to the mansion and when you close the door, you see that everyone is in the kitchen, all their eyes on you. You look at Bruce and see him mad, you look at Damian and see a shit-eating grin, and you look at Dick and see disapproval.

“Did you slap Damian when all he did was ask you for a pen,” Bruce asks.

That little shit’s convinced them this is all your fault. Of course, you should’ve known that he’d make you the bad guy and deflect any blame on his part.

“He didn’t ’ask,’ he took—“

“But you did slap him over a pen,” Bruce cuts you off.

“Yes, but—“

“Wow, I’ve done some petty shit, but this beats all,” Jason mocks, acting like this was some show and not you being ganged up on.

“That’s so uncalled for, Y/N,” Dick chides you. “There’s no need for you put your hands on Damian, especially for something so small.”

Your breath hitches and all you want is for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. They say nothing to you and ignore your existence for years and now, the one time they notice and speak to you, it’s to do this?

“Master Bruce,” Alfred interjects. “You’re not being fair. I believe that pen—“

“Alfred, it doesn’t matter what’s so special about the damn thing, it’s just a pen.” He holds his hand out to you. “Give it to me. Damian asked for it and after what you just did, he’s going to get it.”

You see Damian’s grin grow and your rage comes back.

“Hell no,” you mutter, slipping it into your pocket. You see everyone’s eyes widen while Bruce’s frown gets more intense at your defiance.

“What did you just say?”

You can tell he’s pissed at you defying him. Oh well, you’ve already dug your grave, what’s adding a few more feet to it gonna do?

“I said hell no!”

“Oh, man,” Jason cackles. “You done fucked up, kid!”

“Go to your room,” Bruce says with clenched teeth. “You’re grounded.”

You quickly leave the room, wanting to put as much room between them and you as possible. As you leave, you hear them talking about you, asking what’s wrong with you, how childish you are, and other stuff you really don’t want to hear right now. When you close your door behind you, the dam breaks and you fall to your knees, letting out a wail and allowing tears to stream from your eyes like a waterfall. The last time you cried this hard was when you were told Momma had died and it’s in this moment you wish you had been in the car with her now more than ever.

A knock at the door brings you back to your harsh and uncaring reality.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred calls from the other side. “May I come in?” You get up and open the door. “Oh, my dear boy.”

You allow him to come in and he closes the door behind him before bringing you into a tight hug, which is when you resume your crying.

“I hate them,” you shout in between sobs. “I hate them all!”

“I know,” he says. “I tried to tell them after you left the room, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Alfred,” you say, pulling yourself together enough to talk coherently. “When I turn eighteen, I’m going back to Goodsprings.”

He pulls away and looks at you. “I understand why you feel that way, but it’s been ten years since you left, Master Y/N. If you go back there, you’ll be alone.”

“I’m alone here, Alfred!” You pull away from him. “Ever since I came here, they’ve made it clear that I’m unwelcome here! That I don’t belong here! At least back home, I’ll be surrounded by memories of Momma.”

“But this has been your home for ten years.”

“This isn’t my home, Alfred. It never was and it never will be.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Instead, he pulls you back into another hug. “I understand. I’ll miss you dearly, but if going back will make you happy, I’ll wish you all the best.”

You can do nothing but cry. You’ll miss Alfred, the only good thing to come out of going to live in this godforsaken city and this manor from hell, but when you need to get out of here. The sooner you leave Gotham and get back to Goodsprings, the better you’ll be.

A/N: thank you all so much for the likes and comments on chapter one! I really didn’t think that so many people would like it, but here we are! I hope you all continue to enjoy this series!

Tag list: @minkyungseokie @solelifauna @nosyrobin

[crescenthistory]

in the silence, there is an us

Pairing: Paul Atreides x Reader

Summary: Throughout their lives, Paul and reader have often found themselves in each other's bed. Childish games after bedtime, late-night studying sessions, nightmares, and a burning need to not be apart.

Part of Paul's point of view can be read here: "you are my favourite silence"

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: not proofread, possibly some inaccuracies about plot details (have not watched dune in ages, i'm just obsessed with paul), best friends to lover, tension, light angst, jessica being a bit rude, reader being an orphan and of a lower social rank, duke leto's death (rip), lots of cuddles and lingering touches, fluff, the whole deal

***

The grand halls of Castle Caladan always had an eerie stillness after sunset. The select servants walked quietly, the sound of waves crashing below barely made its way through the stone walls, and the Duke and Lady Jessica kept to their quarters. For Paul and you, though, this was the perfect time to sneak past the sternness of bedtime. The day never seems long enough for young children whose eyes are still filled with stars.

“Come on!” Paul’s whisper was loud, almost too loud for sneaking around, but you didn’t think long enough to care. The thrill of the game was enough to make both of your hearts race. You were barefoot, your steps making soft thuds against the cool floor as you tiptoed through the hall toward his room.

“If we get caught—” you whispered, but Paul cut you off with a grin.

“We won’t. Besides, who can stop us?”

You rolled your eyes at his cocky confidence. He wasn’t wrong, though. You had never been good at staying still, at obeying the invisible rules set up by adults. With no living relatives to share your name, Paul was more than just a best friend – he was all you had. Him and Duke Leto, whose unwavering sense of duty made him take you in at the Castle when your parents died on a mission he orchestrated. Responsibility above all else, all the qualities he aimed at instilling in his young son. And it couldn’t hurt Paul to have a friend his own age, could it? 

You slipped into his room, both of you giggling like you’d just played the best prank on his sleeping parents. His bed was huge for a 7-year-old, more space than one boy could ever need regardless of his nobility. Tonight, it was your playground, stretching for miles.

Paul scrambled up first, then turned and offered you his hand. “Bet you I can jump higher than you,” he said, a challenge clear in his eyes.

You took his hand, pulling yourself up and laughing as the two of you bounced on the mattress, trying to outdo each other in height and bravery. You weren’t worried about waking anyone. Even if Duke Leto found you – and he often did – his stern reprimands were laced with amusement.

This was not the first time the two children had snuck into each other’s rooms after dark, the activity becoming more habit than occasion. Nights like this were your shared rebellion, a refusal to let the day end just because the sun had gone down, just because Jessica had tucked Paul into bed an hour earlier for bedtime.

Eventually, after you had worn yourselves out, you collapsed side by side on the bed, your breaths heavy from laughter. You stared up at the ceiling, still giggling as the adrenaline began to fade.

“I don’t want it to be bedtime ever again,” Paul said, his voice soft, almost wistful.

You turned your head to look at him, sprawled out on the massive mattress, dark hair in his eyes that reflected the dim moonlight streaming through the window. You understood exactly what he meant.

“Me neither,” you replied with a smile. Your hand found his under the covers.

Neither of you moved as your true bedtime took over, the quiet settling in around you, comfortable and warm. You fell asleep like that, fingers intertwined, with no concept of what it meant to have boundaries. There was just Paul, and you, and the night that was never long enough.

  ***

In the wake of your early teens at the castle, sneaking into each other’s rooms had become less about rebellion and more about comfort. The innocence of bouncing on beds and stifled laughter gave way to whispered conversations in the dark and the shared weight of fears neither of you quite understood yet.

The first time Paul came to your room because of a nightmare, it startled you. You were just about to drift off when you heard the soft creak of your door, followed by the quiet patter of feet. You jerked up from the mess of blankets, blinking into the darkness. Confusion and perhaps a bit of fear grasped you, until you saw his silhouette standing near the edge of your bed.

“Paul?” you whispered, straightening up. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer at first, he didn’t know how. With his tense expression and shadows playing across his face, he looked haunted despite his still small, boy-like frame. You knew him in and out by now, and could clearly read the signs of his nails digging into the skin of his fingers, breathing shallow and uneven. 

“Can I stay?” His voice was rougher than usual, like he was barely holding it together.

“Of course.”

You didn’t ask any questions, it was a silent understanding. Instead, you lifted the blanket, making room for him. He crawled in without hesitation, laying his head on the pillow on your left. His body rigid beside yours for a moment before he relaxed, the tension slowly draining away.

Lying there, you listened to the sound of his breathing steadying, feeling the warmth of his presence next to you, arm against arm. It was quiet, but not silent – the kind of quiet that only existed when you knew someone else was there with you. Someone who understood. Someone who would never judge you for being afraid.

In his newfound safety, Paul drifted off easier than he could in his own bed. Yours was significantly smaller, but somehow softer, and he could actually feel the weight of you beside him on the mattress. He could ground himself in your presence. When he fell asleep, his head fell slightly to the side, his hair brushing against your cheek. 

You, on the other hand, stayed awake a little longer, staring up at the ceiling, your thoughts racing. 

You’d always been each other’s rock, but now, something was different. The comfort you found in his presence was deeper, more profound. It wasn’t just about not wanting to be alone anymore, it was about needing him specifically. It brought a smile to your face to know that he found that same assurance in you.

***

The weights on your shoulders materialised and became clearer as you grew beside each other. At sixteen, the favours Duke Leto had bestowed upon you by allowing you residence and education at Caladan felt like a debt more than a blessing. One you had to repay through excellence, through true devotion to any and all training given to you. While Paul tried to seem more lighthearted about it all, it could be felt in the air all the same. You were no longer just two children sneaking around a castle that seemed to never end. You were a future duke and a noblewoman-in-training, navigating a world that seemed to have its eyes on you at every moment.

To earn your gifted title and position and prove yourself worthy of your place as Paul’s friend, you poured over every textbook your teachers assigned you. The study of Caladan, of politics, traditions and customs occupied your mind to the extent that you neglected the occupant of your heart. 

Yet, at late hours, it was always Paul’s bedroom floor the pair found themselves splayed across. 

Sheets of notes, pens and books layed on top of themselves in a system neither of you could have been able to explain to an outsider. Paul against the wall with his notebook, you stomach-down on the carpet, nose buried between the words in your textbook.

“You’re going to wear yourself out.” Paul’s words were muttered, watching you through tired eyes.

You shook your head. “I’m fine. Just one more chapter.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

“I mean it this time.”

Paul didn’t argue, but you could feel his eyes on you as you worked, his presence a quiet comfort beside you. It had become routine, the two of you studying together, you claimed you worked better that way. Paul occasionally asking questions while you tried to focus on your own work but more often than not, you ended up helping him instead of yourself.

Your one-more-chapter became two more as you tried to retain the information, but your eyelids grew heavier, your focus slipping. The same sentence became burned into your retinas without making much more sense.

Ever so slowly, your head was brought closer and closer to the ink. Eventually it was all you could see before your cheek hit the page – you were out as a light.

Paul watched you for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. This was not the first time. He closed his own book and moved quietly to your side. He brought a finger up to brush some of your hair out of your face before he rolled you over. Gently, he lifted you, careful not to wake you as he carried you to the bed. His bed.

It had almost become part of the routine, he watches you exhaust yourself and then ensures you get the rest you deserve. He had done this before, but each time, it made his chest tighten more in ways he didn’t fully understand.

As he laid you down delicately, he hesitated by your side for just a moment, watching the rise and fall of your chest, the peaceful expression on your face. He didn’t realise how often he found himself staring at you like this, wondering when the girl who used to be his playmate had become someone he couldn’t stop thinking about. Someone he wanted to protect, to keep close, even as you worked yourself to the bone. He wanted to tell you you didn’t have to, that he knew and that you were enough. Instead, he let his instinct win and lightly caressed the soft flesh of your arm.

After a brief pause, Paul pulled the covers over you and sat on your edge of the bed for a while longer. He was tired himself, but he didn’t want to move. Not just yet.

***

The past few months felt as if they stretched on for years with how much change and development you were faced with, almost forcefully. Despite your efforts, the older you got, the more you felt like a young girl attempting to parade as a grown woman ready for whatever duties Duke Leto sees fit of you, as a “noblewoman” without any true blood given nobility. 

Paul had been dancing around your worries for a while now, cutting off your worried rants with funny quips and dragging you from the library or training room to the beach when he believed you too worrisome. However, his duties were catching up to him as well, even when he tried to balance on the beam with you. He would be a duke one day, and though he had acted like a prince all his life, this was much more real.

His duties were specifically catching up to him in the form of one Lady Jessica. Reminders, comments, requests to his teachers and staff. She wanted him to start becoming the man he needs to be.

One of her lectures was playing out before your eyes in the library, though it escaped you how it even began. The soft, rhythmic drumming of the rain against the high windows felt like the one thing tethering you this world as she spoke, shadows cast across her face. 

Lady Jessica’s voice sliced through the rain, calm but pointed. Leaving the air around you feeling heavy. You sat at a table beside Paul, as she stood above you, a judge passing through your reading session. Her sharp eyes, blue within blue, never seemed to miss anything.

She had always watched you carefully, ever since you were children – though it wasn’t until recently that you noticed how her gaze lingered on you. Emotion indecipherable, yet somehow your stomach seared from it. She was assessing you on criteria it felt you had no control over. 

“You’re both approaching the age where things will change,” Jessica said, her gaze flicking between you and Paul. Her tone was deceptively gentle, like the calm before a storm. “You can no longer afford to be... careless.”

There was a long pause, a silence that felt charged with unspoken meaning. Paul shifted beside you, and though you didn’t look at him, you could feel the tension in the way he carried himself, alert, almost defensive.

“I’m not just speaking about duties to the House or the formalities expected of you as you come of age.” Lady Jessica’s eyes rested on you, sharp and assessing. “I’m also speaking about the way you conduct yourselves in your personal relationships.”

Your heart stuttered at the implication, warmth creeping up the back of your neck. You did not wish to dig into the meaning behind her words.

This was not the first time she’d given such a lecture, but it was the first time it felt so personal. So aimed. It was understood she must be referring to the hours upon hours you spent together, including in the moonlight. The quiet moments where you and Paul sought each other out, clinging to your comfort when the world felt too heavy to bear alone.

It was never intended to be anything inappropriate. You were each other’s safety nets, just like you had always been. But still, you felt a pang of shame coil in your chest at the thought of it being seen that way.

“You have been given responsibilities that go beyond your own desires,” Jessica continued, turning slightly toward Paul. “You are the heir to the House of Atreides, Paul. Every decision you make now, every relationship you allow to develop, can impact that legacy.”

Paul’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, you risked a glance at him. His face was unreadable, but the tension in his posture betrayed his discomfort. His eyes flicked to you, worry clouding them more than annoyance at his mother’s words. He searched your face for something, and did not seem happy with what he saw, but you ripped your gaze away a mere second after.

He was not thinking about his legacy. In that moment, all he thought about was you and how you were feeling.

Your stomach twisted, and the weight of it all – the difference in your status, the expectations that shadowed both your lives – seemed too much. Lady Jessica was not wrong, and Gods did you hate it. You glanced down, willing the words to settle somewhere far away, somewhere that wouldn’t hurt so much.

“You must understand,” Jessica said, her voice softer now, but no less firm, “the time for childish games is over. It’s time for both of you to take your roles more seriously. The future will not wait for you to be ready.”

The words hit you harder than they should have, like a reprimand for something you had not yet done but already felt guilty about. You wanted to say something, anything to show that you understood, that you weren’t some distraction pulling Paul away from his responsibilities, but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you nodded stiffly, keeping your eyes trained on the floor.

Jessica gave a tight-lipped smile you did not see, before turning around to take her leave, pleased with the efficiency of your talk. She was gone, her robes whispering against the stone floor as she left you alone with the silence she had created between you two.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The weight of Jessica’s words still hung heavy in the room, thickening the air between you. You could feel Paul’s gaze on you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, not yet.

“She didn’t mean it like that,” Paul finally said, his voice low and careful, like he was testing the waters.

When you did not respond, Paul let out a soft sigh, moving his body towards you. “She’s just worried. That’s all. My mother—”

“Your mother is always worried,” you cut in, more sharply than you intended. You could feel the weight of it all pressing down on you. The constant reminders of how you didn’t quite fit into this world of nobility and politics, how your presence was tolerated but not truly embraced by the one woman you wished to be on your side. “And maybe she has a point. I’ve been distracting you. I shouldn’t... I shouldn’t keep coming to you.”

You did not elaborate, you did not need to.

Paul’s expression tightened, and before you could move away, he reached out, gently gripping your hands between his. His touch was warm, grounding, but you tried not to let yourself sink into it.

“No,” he said, his voice firm now. “You haven’t been distracting me. You’ve... you’ve been keeping me sane. It’s not the same thing.”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head again. “But your mother thinks—”

“I don’t care what my mother thinks.”

The words were out of Paul’s mouth before he could stop them, and for a moment, he looked almost startled by his own admission. He blinked, as if trying to make sense of his own boldness, before his grip on your hands tightened just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours.

“I don’t care what she thinks about the time we spend together,” he said, quieter this time, but no less intense. “She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re drowning, like the world’s pressing in from every side, and you’re just. Alone.”

You looked up at him then, your breath catching at the rawness in his voice. Paul never let anyone see him like this—not even you most of the time, not fully. But now, there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Desperation, maybe. Or something deeper, something unspoken.

“Whenever I’m with you, it’s the only time I don’t feel that way,” he continued, his voice low, like he was sharing a secret he’d been keeping for too long. “You’re not a distraction. You’re the only thing that keeps me steady.”

Your chest tightened, torn between the overwhelming urge to believe him and the guilt that had been festering inside you since Jessica’s words. You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes made it impossible to say any words out loud.

So instead, you swallowed your thoughts, pressing them deep down where they couldn’t be reached.

“We just need to be more careful,” you said softly, pulling your hands away from his grasp. Your skin still tingled where his fingers had been. “Your mother’s right. We can’t keep hiding away in each other’s rooms. We can’t... we can’t keep acting like kids.”

Paul’s face fell, the tension in his shoulders sagging slightly. His now-free hands went up to rub at his face before he sighed. “But we’re not acting like kids.”

“Aren’t we?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “We’re literally sneaking into each other’s beds in the middle of the night, Paul. We’re still pretending like nothing’s changed.”

Paul was quiet for a long moment, his eyes flicking away from you, as if he couldn’t bring himself to argue. Maybe because deep down, he knew you were right.

But then, just as the silence between you started to feel unbearable, he spoke again, his voice quieter, but full of conviction.

“Nothing has changed though. Not between us.”

The words lingered in the air, and for the first time in a long while, you didn’t know how to respond. A part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to cling to the idea that no matter what the world threw at you, no matter what Lady Jessica said, you and Paul would always be the same. The same two people who had spent years leaning on each other, who had always been there to catch each other when the ground fell away.

Yet, you knew what Paul’s wishful thinking sounded like more than anyone else. You knew everything about him. And in this moment, you knew he was wrong. No matter how much you both tried to ignore it, the future was closing in around you.

“I should go,” you said quietly, getting up from your seat before he could say or do anything to stop you. “I need to think.”

Paul didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes was enough to keep you rooted in place for just a moment longer, looking down at him. He still looked so young, his eyes so wide. That familiar ache settled in your chest, the same ache that came whenever you thought about what you were trying so hard not to lose.

“I will see you tomorrow,” you said, and with that you left him to sit with the sound of rain drops against glass.

After Jessica’s most pointed lecture, your unease at night, the one you and Paul seemed cursed to be forever plagued by as children of the castle, had only increased. You woke in cold sweat or you did not wake at all – regardless, you stayed in your own bed, never venturing down that familiar path in the hallway. You hugged your knees for comfort. 

You were a proper young woman. As you ought to be.

Nothing could get you and Paul to stop spending time with each other entirely though, not his mother and certainly not complicated feelings. There was already a lot of that flowing around anyway.

Classes, meals, walks around the hallways, the occasional silent moment watching the waves side by side in a large window. Never late-night visits. Never lingering too much, especially not around Jessica. 

She seemed pleased with your development, so you bit your cheek and played the part.

It had been months since either of you crossed that invisible boundary, but the comfort of those nights lingered in your minds, a shared memory you couldn’t quite let go of. One that you held tight on rough nights.

Ironically enough, it was the nights without thunder or storms that you struggled the most. Gripped by fear and horror, you fought through the worst nightmare you had experienced in many years. Mangled bodies, fire and smoke, Paul’s face distorted by sandstorms that you swear you could feel cut into your fragile skin like class.

The scream was lodged in your throat as you shot up, finally able to pull yourself out of the depths of your consciousness of all that has happened and all you fear will. Drowning in sweat and tears, violently trembling all over, you suddenly found yourself on your feet in the cold hallway.

No coherent thoughts were running through your head, just instinct and an intense need to be saved from your own mind. Even in a waking state, you still felt half infused in the nightmare, seeing the scenes when you blink, as if tattooed on your eyelids.

Almost running down the known path, your hand grazing the wall as you went to stabilise yourself. The rational part of your brain told you it wasn’t appropriate, that you should listen to Jessica, you were both too old to be doing this – but you were not in a rational state of mind right now. Right now you were the same scared little girl you have always been, the one you fear you always will be, and you knew what you needed to do to quiet her screams. 

When you reached his door, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle. What if he didn’t want this anymore? What if he would turn you away?

Before you could second-guess yourself further, the door creaked open, and there he was. Paul stood in the doorway, lit up from behind by a single candle on his nightstand. His eyes were wide as he took the sight of you in, but there was no real surprise etched on his face. However, if you weren’t mistaken, you thought you saw relief in it. Like he had been waiting for you, hoping for you to come.

Paul breathed your name out like a ‘thank you’, stepping aside to let you in before you could even speak. His hair was dishevelled, his shirt wrinkled from where he must have been lying awake, staring at the tall ceiling.

You slipped in past him, already feeling some tension leave your body as soon as the door closed behind you. You weren’t sure what to say. Maybe you didn’t need to say anything at all. Letting your eyes meet his, the look on Paul’s face told you everything you needed to know.

Without a word, you moved toward the bed, and Paul followed, his presence a warm, steadying force behind you. He didn’t ask you any questions, he didn’t need to. You both knew that whatever it was, it was enough to bring you here, to him. 

You hesitated for just a moment, feeling the weight of the years between you. When you were children, there had been no second thoughts, no hesitation. But now, voices were creeping in – but you shoved them aside like his blankets, and climbed into his bed.

When Paul slid into bed beside you, everything felt right again.

The tension in your body melted away as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. You could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, feel the warmth of his skin against yours, and suddenly, the fear that had gripped you moments ago faded into nothing.

You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes as the last of your tremors subsided. He was your anchor, your constant in a world that was rapidly spinning out of control.

“Are you okay?” Paul finally asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper.

You nodded against him, but your throat felt tight, your words stuck behind the weight of everything unsaid. The nightmare had shaken you more than you wanted to admit, and it wasn’t just about the dark images in your head. It was the fear of losing Paul, of losing the one person who had been by your side for as long as you could remember.

“I’m glad you came,” Paul said quietly. “I wanted to come to you, but—” He trailed off, his hand tightening slightly on your shoulder as if to ground himself.

“I know,” you whispered, finally finding your voice. “I wanted to come sooner.”

There was a pause, and then, after a long moment, Paul’s thumb began tracing slow circles on your arm, his touch gentle but deliberate. It was a gesture of comfort, of familiarity. 

“I’ll always be here,” he murmured, so softly you almost didn’t hear him. “I swear it.”

You opened your eyes and tilted your head up, meeting his gaze in the dim light. His face was serious, his eyes reflecting the weight of the promise he’d just made. For a brief second, you thought he might say more, something you’d been waiting for but weren’t ready to confront. 

Instead, Paul’s expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, the gesture tender, reassuring. It was something he might have done when you were younger, but now it felt different. It wasn’t just comfort anymore—it was a part of the promise.

Neither of you said anything after that. You simply held each other, letting the quiet settle in. The world outside might have been shifting, changing in ways neither of you could control, but here, in the stillness of the night, there was nothing but you and Paul.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, only that, for the first time in a long while, you felt safe. And unfortunately, as the next few days would ensure, it was the last time for a long while as well.

***

When Arrakis claimed Duke Leto, it also claimed something inside Paul.

He wasn’t the same after that day. The boy who had been your partner in rebellion, the one who made you laugh even in the darkest of times, had hardened. His grief was silent, buried under layers of duty and survival, but you could see it. It was in the way his hands trembled ever so slightly when he thought no one was looking, the way his eyes had dulled since your arrival on this cursed planet.

In the middle of it all, you felt lost too. You had lost the closest you had to a father figure in Duke Leto, but worse, you were losing Paul—bit by bit, day by day, as he was forced to become someone you struggled to recognise. This was a different kind of nightmare, one you couldn’t wake from.

After growing used to the luxury of Caladan Castle’s beddings, you found yourself huddled with Paul in a small tent in the middle of the desert, the harsh winds of Arrakis howling outside. There was nothing but sand for miles, and for the first time since arriving on this planet, you felt truly untethered from the life you once knew.

Paul sat across from you, his back pressed against the rough fabric of the tent, his face half-shadowed by the faint light from a small glowglobe. His eyes were distant, fixed on something you couldn’t see, something only he could comprehend.

“Paul?” you whispered, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady.

He didn’t answer at first, but then, slowly, his gaze shifted to you. There was a fragility there that caught you off guard—a vulnerability that reminded you of the boy you used to sneak around the castle with, the one who used to chase away your fears with a single glance.

Without thinking, you moved closer, kneeling in front of him. His breath hitched as you reached out, gently placing one hand on his arm and the other on his cheek. He looked down at your fingers, as if surprised by the touch, before his eyes met yours again.

You wanted to say something, anything at all, to ease his pain. To take some of the burden off his shoulders, even if that meant taking them upon your own. No words felt worthy enough and died in your throat, while the sentiment remained hot on your tongue.

With Arrakis raging around you, you wanted him to feel some sense of security.

“I’m still here,” you whispered, echoing the words he had said to you when you were the one needing the comfort.

For a moment, he just stared at you. Then, with a twitch of his lips, something cracked in his expression, something that had been carefully held in place to keep it all in. Paul’s shoulders sagged, the weight of loss and doom pressing down on him all at once.

He didn’t say anything, but when you shifted closer and pulled him into your arms, he didn’t resist. He simply let you hold him, his head resting against your shoulder, his breath shaky and uneven.

You sat like that for a long time, wrapped in each other’s presence as the storm outside raged on. The world around you was crumbling, but here, in the faux quiet of the tent, there was nothing but the two of you. You didn’t have words for what you were feeling, but it didn’t matter. Paul understood. He always had.

As if the continued touch broke him, Paul made a sound like a tear-less sob, saving water while still drowning in emotion. His arms tightened around you, holding onto you for dear life.

He murmured something against your neck that you couldn’t hear. You made an inquisitive humming sound as you began to stroke his back, coaxing him through his pain.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispered. His voice was raw, it sent ripples through your heart. “Please.”

“You won’t,” you promised, your fingers moving up to card through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Paul. I’ll be right here with you.”

If he wanted to answer, he couldn’t. Instead he let himself have this moment before facing a world that seemed increasingly too big.

***

Life among the Fremen was harsh, unforgiving, but the two of you had learned to survive. It had been weeks since you arrived in the sietch, and every day felt like a battle—against the elements, against the constant threat of danger, against the growing distance between you and the boy you grew up with.

The desert night was deceptively cool, the air carrying a sharpness that contrasted with the oppressive heat of the day. You stood just outside the sietch, gazing up at the unfamiliar stars that stretched endlessly above the dunes. The sky was clear—almost too clear—so different from the comforting overcast of Caladan, the gentle crash of waves a memory long lost to the wind. You inhaled deeply, trying to ground yourself, but the vastness of the desert made you feel small. Disconnected.

There were few quiet moments here, and you took a deep breath as you were surrounded by it.

“I thought I’d find you here.” 

There was a shuffle of footsteps behind you, soft but deliberate. Without turning, you of course knew it was Paul. He came up behind you, standing slightly to your left so you could see him in your sideview. You leaned back, resting your shoulder on his own.

You smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Paul laughed lowly – some things never change. “Neither could I.”

You shook your head, still staring at the stars. “I don’t know if I’ve had a proper night’s sleep since we left Caladan.”

“I miss the rain,” Paul said quietly. “I never thought I would. I used to complain about it when we were kids.”

You smiled faintly. “Don’t lie, you hated being inside when it rained. You’d drag me out into the mud even when it was pouring.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Well, you never said no.”

“I never could.”

There was a pause, one that carried the weight of the past few months – Arrakis, the loss of Duke Leto, the constant struggle for survival. The two of you had grown so used to moving, fighting, planning for the next step, that there had been no time to sit with your grief. No time to just be, in the way you only can with each other.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Paul murmured, glancing at you sideways. “How quickly everything changes. A few months ago, we were on Caladan, complaining about studies, sneaking into each other’s rooms like we always used to... and now–”

“We’re here,” you finished for him, your voice quieter. “In the middle of the desert.”

Paul’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You’d been through so much together, seen so much of each other, in ways no one else had. Yet there was still a distance between you now, a hesitation that hadn’t been there when you were younger. 

It was as though you both knew you were standing on the edge of something, but neither of you dared to cross it.

“I was thinking...” Paul started, his voice trailing off. He looked away, frowning slightly as if choosing his words carefully. “Would it be... strange if you stayed with me tonight? Just for comfort, I mean.”

Your heart skipped, somehow caught off guard by the question. There had been so many nights, both as children and as teenagers, where you had found solace in each other’s company. Whether from nightmares, from stress, or simply because being apart felt wrong.

“Not strange, anyone would need a bit of comfort in our situation,” you tried at humour before looking back at him with soft eyes. 

He didn’t say anything, seemingly trapped between his thoughts. Usually when you spend the night together lately it was because of difficult emotions. You open the door for him to talk about his feelings.

“Are you– are you okay?” you asked, searching his face for the answer. 

Paul was always the one holding everything together, always taking on the weight of his responsibilities without complaint. But tonight, standing under the cold desert sky, he seemed tired. Tired in a way that went beyond just sleepless nights.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked out over the dunes, his expression unreadable, though the subtle tightening of his jaw told you he was wrestling with something.

“I’ve been thinking about my father,” he finally said, his voice thick with the grief he rarely let slip. “About everything he wanted for me. For us. How he wanted me to be a ruler who led with compassion, but how can I...?” He trailed off, swallowing hard, and you could see the battle raging behind his eyes.“I don’t know if I can be what he wanted.”

Your heart ached at his words. You had always known Paul felt the weight of his future, but you hadn’t realised how deeply it cut. Stepping closer, you touched his arm lightly, drawing his attention back to you.

“You already are,” you said softly. “Even in the middle of all this, Paul, you haven’t lost that part of yourself. Your father would see that.”

He exhaled shakily, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the world fell away. There was a vulnerability there, one he rarely let show. It made something inside you shift, as though the careful lines you had mentally drawn to protect yourself, to keep things unchanged between you, were suddenly blurring.

“I’m just afraid of losing more,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of losing everyone I care about. Losing you.”

The words settled heavily in the space between you, a truth that had always lingered but was now undeniable. You were no longer just childhood friends. You were no longer just companions trying to survive. There was a throne in your heart, and on it, Paul was more than just a duke. 

“You won’t lose me,” you said firmly, turning towards him and stepping even closer. “You couldn’t. I’m here, Paul, I’ve always been here.”

Paul stared at you, his expression shifting into something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes softened, the hard edges that had been carved into him by grief and duty melting away, if only for a moment. There was something unspoken in the way he looked at you now, something that had been building for years but had never quite been said aloud.

“You don’t understand,” Paul whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t lose you. Not just because you’re the last piece of Caladan I have left... but because I—”

He stopped, his throat working as if the words were too hard to say. But you knew what he meant. You’d always known, hadn’t you? 

Paul took a step closer, the last step separating his body from yours. His hand lifted to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers lingered at the base of your neck, and you were sure he could feel the rapid beat of your heart in your pulsepoint. It echoed the weight of what he wasn’t saying. 

“You can say it,” you whispered, your voice trembling, though you weren’t sure if it was from fear or anticipation.

Paul’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked like he was on the verge of stepping back, of retreating into that familiar space where he could hide from the truth. But then his palm made contact with the side of your neck, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. Breathing in deeply, slowly.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words tumbling out like a secret he had been holding onto for too long. “I have loved you for so long, and I didn’t even realise it. But now, I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

Your heart stuttered at the confession, your breath catching in your throat. It wasn’t a declaration shouted from the rooftops, it wasn’t a grand, romantic gesture. It was quiet, real, the kind of love that had grown slowly over years, woven into every shared moment, every laugh, every late-night conversation.

“And I love you,” you whispered back, the words barely audible in the quiet of the desert night. “You’re my best friend, my person. You must know that.”

Paul let out a soft, almost relieved breath, his hand moving up to cup your cheek as he tilted your face up to meet his. There was a question in his eyes, one he didn’t need to ask. You answered it by leaning in, lips barely brushing against his, before he closed the final gap with the gentlest of kisses. He was tentative, as though testing the waters of something new, something fragile but real.

It was a kiss that felt like a promise.

It lingered, even when he pulled back ever so slowly, resting his forehead back against yours. 

You both stood there in the quiet, the weight of the desert and the night around you, but the tension between you finally dissipating through your touches.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Paul whispered again, his voice steady this time, though the vulnerability was still there, just beneath the surface.

“I will stay with you every night, if that would make you happy.” There was no hesitation in your voice or your heart. Just love.

A smile spread on his face before he pressed it against your lips in another kiss. Searing, caring, passionate. This was the closest you have seen him to his old boyish self, always happy to bask in your presence.

Letting his hand travel down to find yours, he interlaced your fingers and pulled you back into the sietch.

His room was small, barely big enough for the both of you, a stark contrast to your conditions at Caladan. But as you lay down beside each other, it didn’t matter, you were glad for the excuse to keep him even closer. Paul wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly, and for the first time since Arrakis had stolen everything from you, you felt safe. Safe in the knowledge that whatever came next, whatever trials the desert or the universe had in store, you wouldn’t face them alone.

As you lay in his arms, your head resting against his chest, you whispered, “We’ll get through this, Paul. Together.”

Paul’s grip tightened around you, and you could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

“We will,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

“And I you. No matter what, my love.”

Warmth spread across Paul’s face at the name. He thought, with sleep beginning to cloud his mind, that though there are many uncomfortable changes – that is one he will happily accept. 

For the first time in weeks, you both fell asleep easily, wrapped in the comfort of each other, and the quiet promise of the love that had finally, after all these years, been released into dry air.

[dipperscavern]

thinkin’ about (fem implied) targaryen!reader introducing cregan to their dragon (silverwing) for the first time

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

though you and cregan had been married for a few moons now, he had always preferred to leave the dragon-taming to you. dragons were formidable beasts, able to wipe out populations with a single breath of fire. truthfully, he had always been weary of them. he preferred for them to stay down south, because capable of a warrior & protector cregan is, there was nothing he could do to tame the temperaments of fire made flesh.

he had no qualms about silverwing specifically — a seemingly calm and gentle beast, who had done cregan the favor of sticking to her cave, unless to hunt or stretch her wings between your visits. while not fully capable of understanding, he thought of the targaryens ancestral connection to their dragons something akin to the starks and their direwolves.

he would watch with bated breaths as you and her took to the skies, becoming one in the art of wings, not words. he would exhale with relief each time you landed unscathed, and waited for you to depart from your dragon before approaching. and thus, you had fallen into routine. cregan stuck to his castle, silverwing stuck to her cave, and that was that.

until you started showing interest in introducing one to the other. the increased mention of your dragon in various conversations, occasionally flying over winterfell itself, when you had not dared such an endeavor before. cregan caught onto your idea long before you actually brought it up, and had been mentally preparing for the conversation he had no doubt would ensue. one fateful night, on the walk to your shared chambers after supper, ensue it did.

“Husband..” you began. “Wife,” was the response you got.

“I’ve been thinking,” you say, gaze flickering to cregans face in uncertainty. he hums, waiting for you to continue. “and it would greatly please me to have your company on the morrow. Whilst I see Silverwing.”

cregan keeps his gaze trained ahead, and you can almost see the gears in his head moving. he speaks, tone not with malice — only interrogative. “You would have me face the she-dragon?”

“Not face, my love. Only… greet.” you see the upward tug of cregans lips that tell you he doesn’t think that much of a difference.

you exhale through your nose, a twinge of annoyance seeping through you. though you can’t blame his hesitance (most men cower at the sight of dragons), you can’t help but feel like as he denies silverwing, he denies you. doesn’t he know you are one and the same?

“I only meant,” cregan says, “that dragons are… formidable creatures.” he’s careful with his words, he knows you view silverwing as an extension of yourself. “To displease a dragon is an err only men now with the gods have made.”

“Silverwing is most temperamental, and you would be safe in my company.” you assure, and you truly mean it. on dragonstone, silverwing is regarded as the gentlest of them all. “I only wish as I embrace Northern culture that you familiarize with mine own.”

cregan hums, knowing you have the right of this situation. marriage is about compromise, and you’ve been steadfast in your assimilation of his culture. you were married in the sight of his gods, you moved to his home, left your family… cregan is aware of the sacrifices you’ve made, indeed. he will meet you in the middle.

“On the morrow, then.”

out of his peripheral, he can see the instant smile that spreads on your face. it tugs on his (thought to be cold) heartstrings, and once you stop at the heavy wooden door, you stand on your tip-toes — pressing a kiss to his cheek. he bends to aid you.

it’s safe to say when morn comes, your mood is most chipper.

you and cregan had decided to do your dragon-embracing in the early morning, hours away from meetings or duties, time carved out where you can simply be. be with one another, silverwing, and if cregan is lucky, the gods. you can almost hear the silent prayers echoing from his mind as you make your way up the hill and to your dragons home.

you register the uncertainty in his gaze, and how his eyes flicker around the stone walls of the cavern entrance. you know you ask much, for him to saunter into the dragons den, but you’re grateful for his effort. excitement bubbles in your stomach at the prospect of seeing your dragon, and introducing her to the one you love.

you’ve not gone far in when you decide to halt (for cregans sake), you’re far enough in to be blocked by the wind, but close enough to the exit to soothe cregans nerves. cregans more than happy to allow you to take the lead, paying attention to your every move. you send him a smile, he attempts to return it.

you dislodge from cregans side, stepping forward as to be the first one silverwing sees. you have brought in tow a stranger, after all.

“Naejot Māzīs, Gēltīkun.” come forth, silverwing.

seconds pass, before you hear a low rumbling, accompanied by the sound of rocks moving — and the sound of something moving. something big.

cregan looks around, waiting to see her emerge, but he underestimates the dragons’ ability to cling to the shadows. had it already seen him, before he even knew it was there?

before he can finish his thoughts of curiosity about the stealth of dragons, the head of one slowly reveals itself, moving into the light, and cregan swallows. her gaze flickers to him only briefly, registering him in the least possible amount, before returning to & staying on you. you reach a hand up and out to her, and she lowers her head to you. cregan sees the brief close of her eyes, one touch from you being all it takes. targaryens, he thinks. targaryens indeed.

you step to silverwing, moving to run your hand from her nose up the expanse of her cheek, and cregan sees her lower her head almost fully to the ground. a part of him almost finds it cute. her lips split as a low rumble escapes her mouth, unlike the noises cregan hears her emit when you both are in the skies. even though cregan knows as much about dragons as you do about the witches of asshai, he would venture as far to say it didn’t sound like a displeased growl. more of an unsure-curiosity-filled-question-mark. still, you don’t take any chances.

“Lykirī.” you mutter, be calm. “Ziry iksos daor se qrinuntys, mērī issa valzȳrys.” he is not the enemy, only my husband.

steam blows from her nostrils in an almost sigh, lighter-toned noises echoing from her throat when you finish speaking. she makes you smile, hands still pressed against the hot, scaled skin of the dragon you share a soul with.

cregan knows not what you said in your ancient tongue, but it seems more than efficient in guiding silverwing toward the acceptance of cregans presence. she is cool-tempered, as you said. he remembers what feels like so long ago that he encountered your brother jacaerys’s dragon, vermax. an ill-tempered beast, he was — cregan would say. though he can’t blame it all on vermax entirely, dragons don’t like the cold.

once you’ve roamed your hands across silverwings neck, drinking her in, you beckon him over. “Come, Cregan.”

you could have went to him and came back to silverwing, but truthfully, you challenge him in a silent test of bravery. will he trust you, as you’ve trusted him?

cregans gaze moves from you, to your dragon — where it stays. he’s cautious, but you can’t fault him for that, and he eventually begins to step forward.

silverwing keeps her gaze trained on cregan, keeping herself unusually still as he approaches. you can’t claim to know the heart of a dragon, but your intuition tells you it’s her gentle nature — she doesn’t want to scare him. you amuse yourself with the thought of meleys or vermax in silverwings current place. meleys’ intimidating horns moving as she tilts her head to the side, challenging anyone to step forward (that isn’t rhaenys), or the light snap of vermax’s jaws as he enjoys toying with the man, watching them jump back from the prospect of his teeth.

when he’s a breath away from her, you decide to take pity, and move from silverwings side. now it is you and cregan, looking into her eyes in a silent understanding.

you slide your hand over his own, and move it up to touch her snout. she could pull away, or leave you a widow, but she doesn’t. she even moves a hair forward, nudging herself into cregans hand. the surprise in his face is palpable.

“She’s warm.” he says.

you nod. “In more ways than one, yes.”

you stand there for minutes, cregan lightly stroking silverwing, and her enjoying the attention. only when cregan himself removes his hand do you pull away.

“As much as I have… thoroughly enjoyed this,” he says, looking at silverwing as if she can speak english. “I think I’ve exercised bravery more than enough, this morn. Winterfell awaits.”

you sigh at the prospect of leaving your dragon and facing your duties. “That it does.”

cregan looks at you, secretly admiring your features. it is one thing to cautiously approach a dragon, and make it out alive. it’s another to slide on its back, and a different thing entirely to speak its language. he can’t deny the certain aura he feels, gazing at your silvery-hair, knowing you share the feature with all of your ancestors.

“Will you join me, or should I expect to return alone, cold and wifeless?” he asks, a smirk breaking its way through his usually-hardened exterior in light of his sarcasm. it makes you smile, so it was well worth it.

“Freezing and lonely, for now.” you say, brushing your cloak aside to show him a glint of your riding attire. the sight of it only etched love in cregans pupils as he reaches out for you, and connects his lips to yours. the kiss is briefer than you both would have liked, but duty unfortunately calls. once you break apart, he looks at silverwing, and with a quick nod of his head, turns to exit the den he’s grown to appreciate.

cregans approaching winterfells gates when he hears the whoosh of wings, and looks up just in time to see a familiar pair fly over him & winterfells walls. the men around him duck, your laugh and silverwings screech intertwining into a euphony fit only for the gods to hear — and as cregan watches you dance with the clouds, he remembers the feeling of dragon-scaled warmth under his palm.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

[dcxdpdabbles]

May I please ask for more Royal Consort?? 🥺🥺🥺

Danny stares at the piles of paperwork sitting on the desk. They are in perfect stacks, each glowing in different neon lights- representing the territories they come from- and the boxes of scrolls waiting for his review.

There were also piles and piles of parchment. Stacks upon stacks of scrolls. And he thinks some crystals that contain oral recordings of reports. All glowing. All various colors.

It was like a rave barfed all over an office and left an unholy mess.

He can tell by just looking that this will take him days, if not weeks, to go through. Let's not even think about about getting it processed.

Pointdexter is floating about the room, muttering and checking a clipboard periodically. Danny had figured that he would stop hiding in his room after the third concubine was sent since he woke up. The three were outraged that Consort Danny refused them entry to the castle, claiming they were gifts for the King and not the human toy he picked up.

They left after Pointdexter restrained Danny from reaching for his ghost-hunting gear. He made it clear that as the Manager of the Hunt-Third in command but more respected by ghost nobility due to being a ghost himself- King Phantom had no need for

They left after Pointdexter restrained Danny from reaching for his ghost-hunting gear. He made it clear that King Phantom had no need for concubines as the Manager of the Hunt- Third in command but more respected by ghost nobility due to being a ghost himself.

The King was not around to formally dismiss them, which meant the the many men who were sent to Phantom as gifts could not stay in the castle. They would have to return when Phantom returned from the human world to evaluate the situation.

Sir John the Pure had been only one overjoyed to be dismissed like this. It seemed he was the youngest of the Cosmos tribe but suffered from a rare core condition. Sir John could not use any ghost powers without his core threatening to shatter in his chest.

He was a human with blue skin and stardust-dusted hair but without the added benefit of phasing through walls in the Infinite Realms. Sir John was one of the ghosts born in the Zone, making his condition more shameful.

Besides his pretty face, there wasn't much Sir John had to offer the Realms, and thus, the family was eager to marry him off if only to get some political power through him. Danny had ordered Pointdexter to create a nearby hotel for Sir John so he wouldn't have to go home to his less-than-ideal family.

He even dismissed the servants who accompanied the young ghost- they were the same age- and instead had his aid find better servants to treat the ghost right.

Danny ignored the adoring gazes the ghost threw at him when he was offered the hotel, especially with Timothy Drake watching everything. He finally understood what Pointdexer meant about the human ambassador.

He may pretend to be clueless, but a fierce intelligence burns brightly in his eyes. Drake was watching everything far too carefully to fall his act. Danny's question was how he had managed to convince him before.

Had he just been overwhelmed with the whole Consort thing or was he more aware now that he was inside the Hunt that served as an extension of himself?

"Danno!" Poindexter screams in joy upon seeing him. "You're up! Excellent! The purchase orders on the desk must be paid by nine today."

The ghost flies behind him, pushing him towards the desk even with Danny digging his feet into the carpet. "Why do all these have to be paid by nine pm?"

"Oh no, no, no." Pointdexter hums, throwing him into the chair and pressing a fountain pen in his hand in one clean motion. His smile is dead, and his eyes are soulless as the fifties ghost says, "They need to be paid by nine am."

"But, it eight thirty am right now!?" Danny gasps. The grip on his shoulder goes unbearably tight as his Haunt manager looms over him.

"You better start signing." The teen says in a way that is not quite a threat but not entirely friendly. "The second you put your signature on these forms, payments are sent out. We. Need. To. Pay."

Danny reaches for the closed form, shaking a little in fear as paper after paper is slid under his hand and pen. Every time he finished the last loop in his name, Poindexter quickly switched it out with another while speaking in a fast-paced tone to explain what he was signing.

"Payments for a festival hosted in the FarForzen. Payment for the food we consume. Payment for the clothes. Payment for the wood. Payment for anti-slavery act. Payment for soldiers harmed in the war. Payment for castle repairs. Payment for the ice sculptures. Payment to fund the apology gift baskets for the rejected concubines. Payment for MY payroll is behind. Payment for the bath salts King Phantom ordered. Payment for medical treatment in FarFrozen."

Danny's hand was starting to cramp up, and he wasn't even near the middle half of the pile. He lost himself in the paperwork, entering a near-meditational stage. Hours later, someone knocks on the wood of his door, dragging Danny from the pits he has fallen into.

It takes him a moment to get his eyes to focus on the figure in the doorway. The paperwork glows in various colors. His eyes hurt, okay?. It's Sir John carrying a tray of food and beaming at him. "Hello, Dearest Consort. I brought you some food."

"Um, why?" Danny asks after a moment. He meant why was he ghost here wearing a butler uniform when he should be at the hotel he set up for him.

"Sir John is an excellent chief," Pointdexer mutters, looking through some scrolls while flouting seven papers around him. His eyes flicker between each one in practice ease- apparently, he was a season dungeon master in life?. "I offered him a job when keeping maintenance of the Haunt grew too difficult for me on my lonesome. Our last staff walked out after their payroll was delayed so much. Not that I couldn't blame them."

Sir John scurries inside, placing the tray by Danny. Seeing someone so regal do servant work was a bit jarring, but somehow, he made the action of serving tea look like an art form. "I don't mind how long it takes for my payment to come through, Dearest Consort. To be by your side is more than enough for me."

Pointdexer shoots Danny a look before he turns his papers around and, on them, spells out the words, "He has a crush on you. Want me to fire him?"

Danny opens his mouth to speak, but once again, someone knocks on his door. It's Timothy Drake, dressed to the nines in a stylish old-timey suit. Something that was before Pointdexter time. "Hello, Consort Fenton. I was wondering if you needed help in the admissions department."

Danny stares, ignoring the way Sir John's stardust turns an angry bright red. "Why do you ask?"

"Pass the time mostly," Drake laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Not much to do around the castle now that I'm a human sacrifice."

Pointdexer clears his throat pointedly "If you require entertainment, I can arrange that easily, Mr. Drake. Your offer is gracious but unnecessary."

A paper floats over to Danny from Pointdexer. On it, the word SPY glows brightly. Right, Mr. Drake was still operating under the impression Danny and Phantom were married and that the king was madly in love with him.

If there was a chance to see if the King was gearing up for war and undermining him, befriending the Consort way over his head would be the perfect way to do so.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thank you, though." Danny seconds, making sure to keep his suspicions off his face. Drake smiles, and suddenly, Danny realizes something.

Drake's smile is the same one those elites at the Wayne Gala wore. The same kind was on the three potential concubines' faces before they realized they would not be allowed entry. It was the smile of someone of high society. Not someone like Danny, who was raised firmly in the middle class. He doesn't think he would be able to fake it no matter how many years he studied to be considered upper-class

A chill runs down his spine.

How was Phantom so quickly able to blend in with them? Especially if he was only two years in the future of a world that had fallen apart?

Was King Phantom.....lying to him?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

An entire plane of existence away, King Phantom sits before the tense and somewhat nervous members of the Justice League, the United Nations representatives, and the Lord of Time himself, Clockwork.

He laces his fingers under his chin, keeping his cold stare a few inches away from a glare but not quite there. His formal attire showcases his status and his position, but it's the spear, the flaming crown, and the

"Ladies and Gentlemen." He starts voicing, echoing the clacking of ice, "I want to put to rest that I will be starting a war with this planet for the attack on Consort Danny."

There was a mutter of relieved sighs through the room, only for the temperature to drop so quickly and rapidly that puffs of smoke were visible whenever someone breathed.

King Phantom's eyes were alight with rage as he spoke in a deadly calm voice, "I will instead begin the invasion of all nearby planets. Earth will keep its freedom only because my Consort has a small, insignificant attachment to this world. But make no mistake, you are all pets at the most, and everyone outgrows their pets eventually. Or outlives them. It's the only way to keep my Consort's honor intake within the Afterlife Court. I will give you one week to say goodbye, and then I will kill fifty percent of all life on this planet."

The entire room felt like they were placed in a guillotine. No one moved. No one spoke. Everyone- including the people watching at home huddled around screens- was too tight to move.

Clockworks bows his head, ashamed of what he's about to allow to happen to keep the timeline flowing correctly.

He raises his staff.

"My King, may I suggest another way to keep Consort Danny's honor?" Clockwork shifts into his elder form as the King glances at him.

"What is your suggestion?"

"Why not...."Clockwork words fade a little, aware that Phantom was growing impatient for his hesitation. It wouldn't do to ruin the king's plan, no matter how terrible dumb Clockwork thought it was. "Why not instead divorce? The Consort honor will not be a failed reflection of your inability to keep him safe as a protection spirit if he is no longer your reelection?"

The room gawked at Clockwork but no more than the King, who leaped to his feet in outrage. "You dare suggest I lose the love of my life-"

"You can simply remarry him after a week." Clockwork interprets embarrassment and wants to get through his hair-brain idea. "Earth could make up for the disrespect they showed the royal family by hosting the ceremony."

King Phantom sits back down, rubbing at his chin."That would be better than the alternative. Plus, it ensures Danny wouldn't be angry with me for killing anyone."

"Yes, as Consort Danny wisely said: Have you tried turning it off and back on again?" It took everything in Clockwork to say that sentence as seriously as possible. "This way, no blood is spilled. Consort Danny can finally have that human version of the ceremony he always wanted. You would no longer be anchored to him with the new vows, allowing you to be on Earth without straining Consort Danny's body. The list of benefits is long, Sir."

Phantom looks increasingly gleeful with every word out of his high advisor's mouth. "I can also release that homewrecker, Drake, back to the human realm!"

Clockwork bites his tongue "Yes, my King. Though again, I do not see a future, past or present, where Timothy Drake is infuated with the Consort. He just wants to protect the human race."

"Lies! Did you not see the way he was dancing at the gala?" Phantom hissed, curling his hands into tight fists, but his eyes were alight with glee. " He was practically undressing!"

"Okay." Clockwork shifts into his middle-aged form, trying very hard to keep the annoyance off his face. He doesn't think he is successful but it at least adds more to their whole facade. "The wedding, sir?"

"Oh yes! I shall devoice my husband and marry once more. People of Earth, you have one month to prepare our wedding, and I shall put...you in charge of it!" Phantom points to a very silent as the grave glaring man in a bat costume. "Just for some motivation I will now remove gravity across Earth."

He snaps his fingers, and the world panics as everyone starts flouting. It lasts only for a few seconds, but it's enough to be reminded of how mighty the Ghost King was.

Phantom gives Batman one finally mad smile. "Do not disappoint me:"

The two ghosts vanish in a swirl of the green light portals.

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[alexsshittyworld]

"Alicent is such a boy mom !!"

Meanwhile she walks around that castle calling Helaena her dearest love, spends most of her time with her, listens to her talk about her insects even though she doesn’t like them, didn’t give herself time to grieve her grandson because she was worried about Helaena being able to grieve, put herself between Helaena and Aemond because she would let him burn down the seven kingdoms if it meant he stayed away from her (also one of the only times we’ve seen her fight back against one of the men in her life) and is ready to sacrifice her sons if she can take her daughter and granddaughter and disappear forever.

Alicent "girl mom" Hightower, I see you and I love you.

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

Then I really based off of your Aphrodite post I don't know a lot about Greek gods but I'm pretty sure she's the goddess of beauty right Imagine it Au were Danny's the ancient of Love

This was inspired by an au or Danny ended up getting thrown into the ghost portal and ended up getting himself lost near Pariah Dark Castle and they made him a prince common in the comments if I end up finding the original post

But the idea is that Danny in the say you was like the ancient of love like an entire job is to help ghost find peace with someone then they can spend their Afterlife with or someone they can't spend there after like that and help with peace treaties against neighboring fighting ghost colonies

Danny joke kind like a queen of hearts aspired outfit from all this in wonderland and has a whole get up where he acts like an Alice in wonderland character

And Klarion kind of works a job there like the Cheshire cat coming in with Danny needs advice or someone to spy on someone else

So I'm just imagining a Danny meeting the Justice League through Pariah Dark trying to "peacefully" make a peace treaty with the Justice League without starting a war because his son forced him

That's in the Justice League meet Prince Phantom and his loyal Cheshire cat Klarion

Here's what I'm kind of imagining for an outfits

Danny :https://images.app.goo.gl/xNkZ2zGL956V6YfA8

Kind of imagining the Danny has his hair braided up into like hearts but they're all kind of sticking up in like a that shouldn't be possible type of way

Klarion: https://images.app.goo.gl/yPNThwycymHKoMWz9

Also the suit is like the same color as Danny's outfit always if Danny like randomly magically changes his outfit the soup will change colors with it

Of course I imagine that they add a pair of fake cat ears and he always Teekl on his shoulder while he does his job but but he's also like a dresser in the way Waco he has a pair of juggling balls that stay in the pocket of his pants cuz he's meant to entertain Danny too

I hope you like it I tried my best I don't know how to put images but if I do find that original post a based this of office I'll probably post it as repost

~{ Oooooo so that’s where the brain went I was wondering where it was and that’s an amazing idea and so have this! }~

•The Prince Of Hearts•

The young justice + Robin and Superboy are currently chasing Klarion through a large garden of red roses.

Wait let’s go back a bit to how the young justice got here in the first place.

The Ghost King had sent out a broadcast stating how war will be waged if the USA government continues to kidnap and experiment on their kind and if they don’t release his people war is inevitable. This of course causes the JL to find out what the government has been doing behind their back and when the broadcast finished the JLD just about had a group heart attack and since then they have been trying to get everything chill on both sides.

And the JL has proposed a peace treaty so this kind of thing doesn’t happen again and the JL + JLD have bought the YJ team + Superboy and Robin to watch.

But as the meeting goes on the YJ see Klarion out side and he sees them so the kids sneak out to make sure he doesn’t cause any problems for the peace treaty.

So now we have the children chasing a laughing and flying Klarion but then he sees something [or someone] and smirks to the kids and flys off to them.

They find Klarion next to a black haired and red eyed person wearing a red royal dress with hearts all over it looking at them with something they can’t pick out..

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

~{ Yeah that’s basically what I’ve come up with for this on sorry it’s not that long I’ve been busy with things. }~

•Danny’s appearance•

I would have the dress as darker shades of red with a dress I like so just imagine the dress is a darker red And I think the idea of his hair being braided as a heart is very cute but I propose an idea

✨Rose hair✨

•Klarion’s Appearance•

Yeah the same as Danny’s color and stuff .

~{ And that’s about it hope you gremlins like it byeeee }~

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Anyone else come to some wildly different conclusion on Ghibli movies with age?

Kiki's Delivery Service: Kid: Being a witch is so cool! Adult: Growing up and growing apart from the life you had before is a natural progression of life. You aren't losing the old parts of yourself, just finding new pieces that were there all along. Life is about changing, you'll never stay stagnant.

Ponyo: Kid: She's such a cute fish, you should always follow your dreams! Adult: Leaving home will not take you away from your family. Even when you're miles away and you feel like you're in different worlds your family will still be there, encouraging you. Parents are meant to let go of their kids at some point.

Howl's Moving Castle: Kid: Sophie's a big sister like me! I want to a princess in a magic castle. Adult (I've also read the book): Sometimes you don't find your place in this world, you make one. The people that come along with you will see you through every ugly part of yourself and you would do the same for them. Chase after that shooting star.

Spirited Away: Kid: What just happened... Adult: SHIT HAPPENS! And it sucks, life sucks but you keep going. You can cry along the way. You are being so fucking brave for even going on this hellish journey we call life. It's okay. You're okay.

[ganondoodle]

totk rewrite- botw2 edition

been thinking about the other totk rewrite again (the one only based on botw in which the sonau stay a mystery while being expanded upon)

i talked about it before but heres a lil breakdown (im reusing alot of mechanics from the villain rauru rewrite bc they work too well to be discarded for this one)-

(edit, about five hours later .. its not a little breakdown, its a pretty complete summarized breakdown of the entire new rewrite that i didnt intend to spend the last hours of my sunday on but here we are .. long post, but with pics bc theres lots of concepts im reusing or reviving)

okay START:

zelda and link explore the caverns below hyrule castle bc the shiekah tech has been losing power and their research as to why lead them here

they discover ganondorf and through zeldas curiosity break the, already weak, seal on him (no enigma stone here, the seal was done by an ancient queen of hyrule)- he wakes up attacks them, breaks the mastersword and miasmas/malices links arm off (also idea is that you have to fight him but meant to lose horribly lol) and then have to play an escape sequence (or watch a cutscene of it) in which zelda drags link after herself running from gan

(remember this old first idea drawing i made when i started to think about a rewrite? yeah im reviving that, except theres no totk sonau in this anywhere)

they get out and immediately afterwards a heavy earthquake runs through the land, completely, and actually, changing the map (also using the idea of devastating the regions climates- gerudo desert is flooded, death mountain collapsed inwards, the zoras realm is dried up, rito village has completely frozen over - ACTUALLY frozen over, everything encased in thick ice, the temperature has a special new low point, the winds too strong to glide anywhere-, mountains and rivers shifted, caves are revealed- oh and most of the main villages have tried to flee somewhere saver so theres no literal 1 to 1 repeat of points of interest from botw; also no uh .. miasmas holes that are literally jsut like drilled out bc what?? i want the access to the underground be few and hidden to make it more special to discover)

links arm gets amputated and replaced with a shiekah tech one (maybe using the botw shiekah stone/slate since they still dont know how to make them and its the best self sufficient piece of tech left that doesnt rely on the breaking fuel structure) (reusing this concept from the villain rauru one, with the difference beign that theres no corruption of link -or maybe it does have an effect to have shiekah tech literally hooked up to yourself *thinking emoji*- the abilities remainign the same)

when link wakes up some time has passed (so its more logical that the other regions have tried to cope with everything happening) you get a tutorial by purah and other shiekah (bc with zelda in charge theres more shiekah doing tech stuff again! cool!) and now have a magic meter (functions like in the previous pic, recharges over time depending on environment! bc i find that idea so cool for interstign puzzles and storytelling- like i said in an older post, a place where lots of people died might be richer in spirit energy recharging your magic faster- others have been hollowed out of luminous stone which slows down the recharge) and you are left to decide where to go

both zelda and you have a shiekah stone/slate replica but its incomplete since as mentioned the knowledge on how to make it is still lost so it only has the basic functions, such as the map, journal, camera and teleport

zelda is your companion from the start, in the years since botw she trained in basic self defense and can use her sealing powers as a shield to protect herself (though reluctantly since she doesnt want to rely on them) so you dont need to babysit her- you can tell her to be aggressive in encounters, supporting you (occasionally shields you or heals you a little?) or stay out of it/only self defend if an enemy targets her (in case you dont want any help) - she also copies your movement in a way, when you glide around she will too etc- in cases where you go very fast to one thing, like the hookshot, she will grab onto you

zelda also acts as your mobile crafting station, to put it bluntly, as she can craft and repair weapons, which is at first limited but can be expanded upon by doing quests (like the options of spear crafting being hugely expanded by a zora quest- fitting their fight style), when she does it you need the material needed for it though it costs no money- theres new little smith shops around the world that can repair and craft as well in which you can spend money instead for material you are lacking (and a little fee for the work you know)

(one of the first rough concepts for a pair of smiths, one is at the shop (green lady, the scars on her arms are her missing fins bc she burned them or lost them in battle), the other walks around it like terry (beedle) does and from whom you can buy already crafted simple things, like arrow types-

oh yeah, arrow types return and get more options bc theres no way in hell id make anyone scroll through that awful menu just to fuse one arrow at a time (the old types return, but theres new ones and all are craftable in bulk, here and old rough sketch)

(also theres no new 'in the same location jsut a few steps to the left' towers that shoot you into the air bc it just destroys the entire world design- even if there is no sonau tech in this one so no gliders- i want the sky to feel as dangerous and mystical as the underground)

the sky has to be reached via the hookshot, its got big islands mostly with old shiekah ruins, including that broken titan prototype i drew before, and the bird mechanic (you can tame birds and register them at a location there, idk if im keeping the idea of a lone shiekah there, but the birds will stay)-which is if you tamed a bird you can call it when gliding to gain a little boost in height, enabling you to reach islands further away (since no building, yeah that mechanic is better used in a game actually built around it, which totk just isnt- do not argue with me about that- to really let it shine instead of just being a tiktok viral funney build simulator that adds nothing meaningful to the game and actively makes it worse due to its implementation just not fitting there) or save you from falling if you barely missed the edge of one - theres few points of teleportation up there so the world map isnt made skippable, theres no shrines there (and in general, there are no shrines, just minidungeons- ACTUAL minidungeons- integrated into the world, like really big caves that are each unique and filled with challenges- and much fewer of them) (the islands being mostly made nigh invisible from the surface bc clouds gather on their underside)

perhaps different glider types?! and you can switch their design via zelda too

the old botw shrines are non fucntional due to loss of power, either overgrown or broken into pieces due to the ground breaking open, some might be infested with malice/miasma and comes alive like a weird mix between guardian and miasma crab (which also goes for guardian wrecks that hadnt been taken apart for research yet), some are fallen into caves that got revealed or got swallowed by the ground with only the tip remaining- the titans (divine beasts) are all repurposed (like in the other rewrite ideas i had)- the rito tried to flee the blizzard using medoh but sicne no one has piloted it and unstable connection to them causes them to crash in the hebra mountains, unable to leave it due to the storm and thus on limited time; vah rudania was perhaps made into a temple, or training ground but fell into the underground when death mountain collapsed (imagine ... malice/miasma infested rudania being an actual boss itself, chasing after you in the underground); vah ruta was absolutely made into a place of worship and after their domain dried out a few remained there praying to it convinced their faith would save them- its not able to move but manages to produce a little water still; vah naboris might have been used as a stronghold/lookout but due to the desert flooding (which is in fact, bad) its one of the 'islands' people now reside in

new weather types, including storm and darkness caused by mushroom spores that are invasife to the surface

theres at least six dungeons, one for each region (but not in the exact place as in botw bc that is literally just plain stupid though i might use the zora sewer/water system idea for an actual dungeon instead of .. a single button- bc how cool would that have been?? no no lets put the fish people in the sky and put a single button in the coolest part of it that only activates a waterfalll .... coming out of a tiny island in the sky- all just by of the visual neatness of swimming up??- anyway) plus a yiga one that is in and below the akalla citadel- also might put hyrule castle into the underground and inaccessible for a good portion of the game- and one in the forest of the krogs that was corrupted (which i thought was the reaso nfor the backpack krogs, but no, they literally have no goal and serve no purpose than to make funney videos with em, and then even the forest is nothing more but a reused lame fight agaisnt phantom gan- im starting to rant, sorry)

the abilties of the champions will be similar but there are changes, as in tulins (who i might just change to teba bc lets be real he was the one you interacted with in botw really..) isnt a gust of wind, since its both contrary to revalis whole deal of how difficult it was for him to create the updraft and then tulin can just do an almost exactly the same thing as like, a 12 year old- also its little usefullness after me adding in the birds for the sky and different glider types- maybe ill make it a strong windcut forward like in the other rewrite, like the yiga officer windattack but on steriods id also consider most of them not having the innate ability for it anyway, except for yuno maybe since he literally inherited daruks shield and as my idea was could make a variation of it adding the roll an fire to it but still having the shield, bc it kinda makes them like a boring copy of the botw champions and also lessens both their impact in a way (perhaps bringing dungeon items back?? idk,so still working on that)

each dungeon has a unique boss, at least on of which being a corrupted friend (PROPERLY DONE not like poor yuno in totk >:I ) bc each being just some monster tm is kinda boring (like twilight princess was so cool for how it mixed its bosses tbh)- also want satori to have a dark (also nice) counterpart that you might have to fight first bc you are trespassing into its domain (an old sketch gonna revisit it at some point)

new armor sets of course, and you still own YOUR house in hateno, zelda either has her own one in the spot where landa (the funky building lad that you bought your house from in botw) had the 'example' houses or yours got an additional building added onto it for zelda (and you can customize like, trees around it and have a lil farm spot too!!) and in your house theres a chest you can store armor sets in so you dont have to sell them to avoid inventory clutter

POUCHES return!! you can find some but most are locked behind quests (since logically people likely would have pouches) making them a really good reward and dont force you to engange with krogs if you are tired of them, it also avoids making you go back to them over and over just to expand inventory (you can choose for which part you want to use the pouch for, weapon or shield slot etc)- krog seeds are now its own currency for a lil shop you unlock in the forest, one of the highest rewards being the eponator zero (the motorcycle from botw)

also BOTTLES return! the main way to store healing, which also has to be consumed in real time (like in skyward sword, select in on a wheel so link takes it in his hands and 'a' to use it) avoiding the pause and spam apples into your mouth problem-

now cooking is NOT removed, it has even better effects than potions BUT it cant be stored and has to be consumed where you cook it (hear me out-); the cookbook in totk i find pretty annoyingly useless so, the cookbook is now a proper book you can fill out and when you want to cook a recipe you select it there and cook it with what you have (it shows if you dont have it all and also if you wanna swap an ingredient that would end with a similar effect) AND since you cant store it, theres special NPCs that reappear throughout hyrule (like a group of chefs that have one in each region at least) that let you just cook whatever you want without it wasting your materials, and if you hit a recipe it unlocks and is saved in your cookbook (you have to have the materials you want to cook with but it wont consume them, so you cant jsut spam it and fill the entire book out in one go- maybe the chef can give you subtle hints with expressions if something might be good or not before you try it out so you dont waste ages just cooking the same shit over and over xD)

(also possible idea for an item or big quest reward, a portable pot you can set up to cook with -with wood and fire- on the go without having to rely on finding them in the wild, and zelda can act as you chef giving you hints ... honestly i love this idea, remember all the cute botw art of them travelling and cooking together?? make that real you idiots!)

to upgrade your health or stamina you have to get spirit orbs still, but this time you get big ones that each can be traded, since thers fewer minidungeons but they are 4 times bigger than shrines they also give you 4 times the reward- but still one where you can choose which one you want bc i find that an important bit of freedom (idea still is that you free trapped souls and they give you the orb as a reward, majority of which are in caves in the underground or in the surface caves) which encourages you to vary your gameplay and not focus just on one area bc you probably want all those things, go for quests for puches and bottles, for minidungeons for health/stamina etc

oh yeah, the underground houses several dungeons, the weird gravity effect is in either the entire underground or in parts of it- it does not span the entirety of the map, isntead its smaller and often enclosed areas that each are more detailed and 'finished', theres different bioms and enemies you dont find anywhere else, and some enemies on the surface (like the miasma hands but like .. less easy and no phantom ganon bc that got boring rly fast) that sport those hands can grab you and drag you underground- which can either mean doom for you or .. discovering a new area down there hmmmm a risk to take isnt it :3 (also wanted there to be a mount there but idk if i will use this old concept of the dongos or if i want it to be a crab like thing bc of the underwater theme i want to go for)

LORE/STORY

so as you explore you may discover caves and areas in the underground containing sonau architecture (the type from botw, not totk) most of which heavily damaged, but theres few that are in 'better' shape bc they have been in selaed off caverns that werent yet discovered-

you find out the sonau, which you only vaguely knew from ruins in the overworld, were in fact real (but no you dont suddendly know they fucked with hylians and even their names of untold thosuands of years ago that you just so happen to have read in a book all of the sudden like it was an always known fact and not at all a myste- .. rant alarm .. ), and given the ruins underground they must have originated from there, but there are no scriptures that survived and all sculptures are in very bad shape, alot of which seems intentionally destroyed- slowly you and zelda piece together through vague clues (VAGUE game VAGUE, let people THINK) that they had knowledge of the past and the nature of the ever repeating return of disaster to hyrule; the biggest reveal beign that they knew the cycle wasnt natural at all and that it keeps being repeated only through the structure of how this land operates, the beliefs of the people that rule it, altered history etc.

the ancient shiekah under the rule of hyrules royalty found out what the sonau had discovered/knew and persecuted them (parelells to what the king would do to them later on, anyone??) since the divinity of the kingdom must be upheld by all means necessary- which is why the sonau had disappeared so entirely, with little of their culture left and none of them, and by doing so the ancient shiekah also discovered the previously lost knowledge of the gerudo king having turned into the biggest threat to the kingdom in the past (which the sonau had kept secret, knowing what consequences it could have if not handled carefully), which starts up a whole other betrayal plot of the kingdom planning to imprison gan before he can become a true threat (im gonna guess the relations between the gerudo and hyrule havent been that great even before since hyrule was still the main empire)

gan finds out before the plan goes through and assasinates the king of hyrule, the ancient queen declares war (yes, the queen for once) and in the end sacrifices herself to seal him away, more for revenge than any prophecy, but it nevertheless leads to the cycle doing its thing yet again

calamity ganon is a product of ganondorf trying to break free of his seal- and perhaps in an attempt to weaken his unbreakable will the shiekah discover they can use his spirit as a powerful source to their newly invented tech- which previously ran with processed luminous stones (yes battery theory will never let me go idc) and essentially use his own power against him by beating the calamity with their tech

(this knowledge is also how you get the yiga to work with you, using your knowledge of the past as leverage and zeldas ability to negotiate - and bc i thinks it would be cool to see her develop that way, and no i dont mean it as they all gonan fix it uwu either, its hard to go into more nuance here, its already way longer than i wanted- and yes this also ties into the koga is one of the ancient monks that made himself basically immortal through malice experiments HC of mine)

he attacks the regions bc they too sided with hyrule, he drags you to the underground bc its where he has spent thousands of years in agony, hes only out for revenge, an understable one and one you can sympathize with, but one you cannot negotiate with, its been too long, too much, no amount of apology could sate the desire for payback (which keeps the whole link and zelda defeat ganon formular alive BUT gives it nuance, right?? more tragic really, i hope that comes across)

he attacks link and zelda, breaks the masterword bc he has seen it all before, the original calamity, through the eyes of malice, he knows what you will do, inevitably so, you too will come for him, again

at the midpoint of the game you will reach hyrule castle (underground? perhaps it depends on how much health you have, getting grabbed and dragged into its depths losing hearts and if you have enough you survive until you are inside the castle and let go, you cant teleport outside - oh and zelda is either absent for the fight bc you got separated or she held onto you and protected herself with her power- honeslty kinda like the seperation idea bc after having her around all the time its gotta be super creepy to be suddendly alone) and will have a fight with him, that you kinda lose but are saved by the rest of the crew that zelda had banded together and brought here after being seperated from you- maybe without koga yet bc he would be locked to late game i think

there will be a quest to reforge the mastersword, which if you havent already gone to the forest will now lead you there (oh also some of the krogs you find outside the forest now will tell you that they had to flee, but maybe warn you not to go there yet if you are still in early game, others might not know bc they left to plant new forests, windwaker style, maybe a quest there too! to give them purpose beyond being your plaything and then just disappearing- ahem .. )

(old concept for the krog forest/dekutree boss)

the dekutree will tell you to restore it it will need the blessings of the three dragons (who might not have appeared yet, or slowly disappeared one by one, they might need to be rescued bc gan probably knows you are gonna try and repair the sword) (oh look more old concepts still relevant!)

in the end it will .. end with you defeating ganon, just like always (unsure of the place where it will will be but OH LOOK old concepts- here it was still with hyrule castle in mind but that might be jsut for the midpoint fight now- maybe id put the end fight on the forgotten plateau, to round it up nicely, ending where botw began ... ;3

i really like this one .. even more than the villain rauru one, though that one is fun bc a twist like that is pretty neat and fighting with ganondorf is also rly cool- but sicne i just dont like the totk sonau and much prefer them remaining mostly a mystery im very fond of this (also .. im so sick of ancient people with high tech bs now..)

the aim with this is to .. make a botw2 that actually feels like a botw 2 (for me), shiekah tech is still there but little functions still, logically bc its main powersource is breaking off of it, the sonau are a mystery and kinda negatively talked about bc the shiekah persecuted them just like they would later be - also explains why there are shiekah things in every sonau building, of course they would overtake their places and try to erase a much as possible of them (the thunder plateau might have been a place of worship to farodra or for research- now look its a puzzle for a shrine to strengthen our hero to defeat the thing we caused :)) ), the sonau are expanded upon WITHOUT destroying their mystery (none of them are shown, there are NO memories in this game, everything happens in real time and what you can learn about the past is mostly vague clues pieced together by nerd zelda!)

it gives more depth to the shiekah as well as add an important ounce of nuance to the yiga and shiekah, to ganondorf as well while adressing and fixing the things that needed work in botw in ways i would find enjoyable (instead of making it WORSE)

i also dont want to go too hard on 'zelda is totally agaisnt the monarchy bc monarchy BAD', its not meant to come across like that, i just wanted to do sth interesting that does question everything and bc i like to think she could be lead to a different way of thinking, especially if so through her own research and discovery of previously buried history, being confronted with her own biased views by her passion for her interests

anyway, if you read through all of this, i probably forgot stuff, buts its very late and i spent alot of time writing this (bc i cant stop once i started i guess) and theres lots of things repeated that i already talked about BUT if yo actually read through it all, i cannot even begon to express just how much that means to me, and id i dare request, do tell if you like it!!! and thank you so much!!! it might not seem like much but this is also very important to me, i still dream of gamedev after all and i see this as a sort of practice, are my mechanics and stuff actually better os does it just seem like it to me etc -

(though keep in mind, this is in part self indulfent bc hey, its not real and is never gonna be so i might just do what i want- and yes i do believe it is doable, even if this all sounds alot, the magic lies in making it less but make that 'less' more dense and detailed, hence the underground being like at least cut in half in size and the building mechanic being removed (to give to a game where its better used than totk) alone should free alot of time and space for the things i described here)

-thanks again for reading, posts like these rarely get much attention so uh ... its pretty much never worth the time i spent typing designing and writing it (even if theres still lots missing here, like the dungeons and details to the champions ..) so every bit of commentary weighs alot more <3