#then realised that it made more sense to have like *real* *animated* *real* like that. So that's what we did!

[priisprii]

Envy- Jeong Yunho

Summary: make yunho jealous : Mission accomplished.

Word count:2.3 k

Warnings: mean dom!yunho x female reader, oral (fem recieving) , unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, using panties as gag, dropping L bomb while being balls deep inside you:3

Minors don't interact.

Jeong Yunho often gets insecure despite having everything he always wished for, he had money, connections, nice pay and obviously a painfully handsome face but there still exists a hole in his heart which he can't fill with all his money. Only you could fill up that empty space but lately he feels you drifting away from him.

What you had with Yunho is quite hard to describe, you two weren't friends nor lovers , you knew Yunho since two years despite not talking much there has always been some air of sexual tension present but you brushed it off thinking it's all in your head, but how fucking wrong you were, you had no idea how hard Yunho was controlling himself, he wanted nothing but to fuck you senseless in his office, the same space you lurk around often, everytime he wished to have you he stopped himself, he doesn't do relationships he kept reminding himself but you were like a siren, unknowingly attracting him towards by simply existing.

Few months ago during the new year's party, Yunho's self - control finally shattered, he saw you flirting with the new guy, who too was painfully handsome. The alcohol in Yunho's system blurring the imaginary lines he set for himself, he took you to his spacious house and had his way with you just like he always wanted, fucking you on every surface, every corner possible.

Now every corner of his home screams your name, his sofa is lifeless without you sitting there with your snacks and laptop , his bed feels extra cold without your warm presence even his dog acts extra sulky when you are not around

for you Jeong Yunho was your superior, You considered yourself just one of the employees in his large empire who occassionally gets on her knees whenever he wanted and you took immense pride about that Yunho was extreme private person and being few of only people being close to him bought you weird sense of pride with everyone Yunho is always extremely vague with his words but inside the warm space of his home, he keeps yapping with you about his weird interests, his likes, dislikes, hobbies, favourite food, how he looks when he genuinely smiles, the real him.

Yunho giving no definition to your relationship didn't bother you much considering you had little crush on him since you started working with him, that's why at start him desiring your body was enough for you but plus the domesticity made you believe Yunho was all yours but as time passed , two of you started behaving more like couples behind the scenes, you staying in his house most of the days; days you don't even have sex, him cooking breakfast for you while you make the bed, being excited like kids while watching Marvel movies and Anime . Your crush turned into something more love probably . The realisation hit you like a punch to your guts, you were in love with Yunho and he isn't you were sure about that afterall he doesn't do relationships.

When you told your colleague; Mingi about your little rendezvous with Yunho, he gave you great piece of advice just like every good friend would give,

"Make him jealous Y/N, he's damn possessive over you, he fucked your brains out when you flirted with San, play the same game again"

"As you said, bestie"

So here you are, allowing the new guy ; San whom Yunho absolutely despised to flirt with you during the company dinner, not caring to button up your top shirt buttons, leaving your slutry figure exposed to everyone's hungry eyes. Not even once glancing at Yunho cause you never ever found his eyes on yours, right cause he didn't cared about you or you thought so.

Maybe you were always so slow in your tracks that you never once in months caught Yunho admiring you from afar. He noticed everything about , your little habits, your nails, your favourite coffee shop ( you had it favourite cause' you thought it was Yunho's favourite) He liked how vague and silent you were always were, just speaking when it's really necessary and doing tasks silently never once glancing at him. He felt you never cared, back when the whole crowd was shocked when he went blonde you didn't once looked at him it made him feel you don't care about him. Little did he knew you talked with your bestfriend for almost a hour ranting how divine and magnificent he looked.

Yunho's eyes kept sending daggers to your direction, while you laughed wholeheartedly on San's lame ass joke, your hands smacking against his back jokingly, Yunho can't understand since when you and San became so close, he hated his guts and seeing you so close to him made his skin crawl.

He need to peel you away from San .

"he won't be able to eat you out so well right? Fucking fetus won't even know where the clit actually is" Yunho spoke against your thigh , kneading the soft skin mercilessly. His swollen lips were glistening with your cum and his own spit , you don't remember how long it has been since Yunho has been sucking your cunt with such hatered that just makes you reach your high again and again. You were clenching around nothing resulting in more of your juices to drip down along with Yunho's saliva, view that makes the man over you painfully hard and feral.

" Tell me, you owns this slutty pussy baby?" Yunho questioned, while his long digits worked inside your cunt in a fast pace, reaching deepest corner of your insides, pads rubbing the sensitive skin brutally while his thumb circled your clit, flicking the sensitive bud over and over again. Embarrassing squeaky noises coming out your pussy and echoing in Yunho's grand bedroom,Your arousal was dripping down from your thighs soaking the Yunho's bedsheets, splashing everywhere, on Yunho's forearms, his shirt, the shirt that could pay your whole two months rent , but he didn't cared about the stains inside he was proud of making you so wet, needy and moaning mess for him. Right just for him, you were only his and his only.

"You... yes you own me" you whimpered, voice high pitched like some fucking porn star, your eyes were almost blinded by shutting them too much from the pleasure , Your eyes were glued to Yunho's thick, long fingers they were looking so pretty covered in your arousal, the veins bulging out so beautifully, how badly you wished Yunho to put them inside your mouth.

Yunho was torturing you with such fast pace.You never thought he could get jealous like this, but you weren't complaining, you liked how utterly humiliated and owned Yunho is making you .

Chanting out the same line over and over again you are mine mine mine while he sucked, slapped and fingered you. You found his digits fastening up each time you answered his claims. Your orgasm was approaching you again as you clenched more tightly around his fingers, the wet squeaky sounds dominating dead silence of room along with your moans.

" I am close ... So fucking close" you cried out, your stomach tightening at the feeling , orgasm threatening to rip out of you any second but you know better. Not to be disobedient and ask Yunho for permission.

" who made you feel so good? Is it me or that San something from the marketing?huh?" Yunho's word carried pure venom when he said out that guys name, his actions halting fingers stopping deep inside you making you whine, fearing of being left on the edge. You didn't gave a single shit about the guy Yunhol was talking about, even his face was disappeared from your memory as Yunho fucked you so good at cloud nine.

" fuck.. you , you make me feel so good , only — you—you could make me feel so—so good please just let me cum, Yunho"

Yunho admired the mess he made out of you, so cockdrunk and begging for orgasm forgetting all your morals for just that ruined orgasm . He felt almost too bad for you, your wide eyes dripping with mascara, you looked absolutely fucked out and he loved it. Yunho undid his belt throwing it away at some corner, suppressing his desire to wrap it around your neck. He finally let his hard dick out, tip already dripping with precum screaming and begging just to be inside you.

"I am gonna wreck this tiny pussy, gonna fill you up all nice and full"

Yunho groaned, his words dropping low as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down on your slit collecting your gushing wetness and mixing it with his own. He pushed his hair back before kissing you harshly on your neck, sucking the same area where San had his gawking eyes over.

" yes please, fuck me Yunho" you begged pushing your hips upwards, getting desperate as each second passed by, he was so fucking close to you yet far. Yunho let out a hiss at your constant beggings , detaching himself from you and looking at the floor for something, finally his eyes fell on the material he wanted. A smirk made it's way on his face as he went to pick your panties from floor fisting it into ball and shoving it inside your mouth, your own arousal taste landing on your taste buds. You knew you looked so filthy and ruined but it only turned you on to infinity.

"You talk too much" Yunho spit out shoving the lace more inside your mouth before, his one hand gripped on your hips and the other circled around your waist as he entered inside you. A euphoric feeling washing over both of you.

Without wasting any more moment, he started raming his length inside of you, hips meeting yours harshly. He loved the way your walls sucked him up so greedily , while your loud moans were muffled by the material of your panties, looked so fucked out and still begging for more .

" What a needy whore I own could fuck you till daylight still you will keep begging more "

Yunho hissed, his tone dripping with poison, you loved how he was now just using for his own pleasure, rutting hips with you, just to bury his own load inside of you, it made you feel absolutely small, you were fully bare just your skirt bunched around your waist, while Yunho was still gloriously fully clothed, looking so expensive just having his cock out to fuck up your insides. Having such a strong grip onto your thighs that could leave marks for weeks.

" fuck fuck fuck" Yunho cried out helplessly feeling his orgasm close, his dick could burst out any second inside of you leaving you stuffed with it. His pace increased your grip onto his shirt tightening, not caring about ripping the fabric off.

" Fuck I love you so much" Yunho said, realising just a second later that he said the words out aloud, regretting as he saw your wide eyes, staring into his.

You mentally thanked Mingi for his absolutely ridiculous idea which worked out perfectly.

On other hand Yunho was cursing himself for confessing his love while being balls deep inside you.

Thanks for reading.

[cs-fox]

Hybrid AU TF141 - a request from a poll I did a while back ❤️

- if hybrids are allowed in the military, I’d assume they were picked because of their superior combat ability. These are not animals, these are soldiers, chosen for their heightened senses and special abilities that give them an edge over normal humans.

- and I bet they’d be so surprised when a normal human joins their taskforce. What was this all about? Surely this human couldn’t have skills equal to theirs?

- after a long time of avoiding this new recruit and her strange smell, slightly friendlier and more curious avian Kyle decides to engage.

- you’re actually quite nice, at least at the surface, and strangely not bothered by the hybrids too much. There’s a couple of scars on your form that makes Kyle wonder but he knows better than to ask.

- the big werewolf, Soap, is next. He sniffs you, actually sniffs you - big, bristly snout nuzzling into your armpit exactly like a real dog. You think it’s pretty adorable till he shifts back, when you realise there’s suddenly a bulky Scotsman with his arm around you - and a wolfish grin on his face.

- then there’s Price, an aging sheepdog, with a beard akin to his animal counterpart. His dark, beady eyes are kind, but seem to hold a lot of knowledge, and unnerve you every time they fall on your form.

- finally, Ghost. He’s a kind of shapeshifter, for use of a more mundane term, because of his parentage. There’s wolfish ears atop his thatched blonde head but shadows leak from his imposing form like dry ice.

- he almost doesn’t say a word when he approaches, simply observing, as you rock on the balls of your feet awkwardly.

- ‘Um - hi. I’m - ’ ‘Y/N.’ he says, with an unreadable look. ‘I’m Ghost.’

- ‘Well, it’s an honour,’ you tried, attempting reverence, but you didn’t see any change in his demeanour.

‘Mhm.’

His eyes were so powerful, you swore they were boring holes in you, trying to suck your soul out through your mouth.

‘I mean - being able to work with this team. It really is.’

The man didn’t even move, until you made some lame excuse and all but ran off down the corridor back to your quarters, where you stayed for the next hour, a little thrown off by the huge skull-masked man.

You only opened the door when you heard scratching - a small noise, like a tiny animal was begging to be let in.

Because Ghost, despite his stony exterior, had taken to you straight away. You were a kind of light to him - friendly, kind, and a little bit oblivious… even so, he couldn’t resist trying to get a peek inside your quarters - after all, being a shapeshifter had it’s uses.

When the door cracked open, there was a slim tortoiseshell cat, with beautiful dark eyes. You gazed at it in wonder - how did a cat get into the barracks?

It mewled softly, and you scooped it up, grunting slightly at its unusual weight.

‘C’mon baby. I’ll see if I have any food for you.’

Having to gulp down warm milk was all worth it in the end for Ghost, after all, it wasn’t such a torture if it meant he got to spend the night in your bed.

[moonsaver]

wheover that anon was that spoke up about mr reca I LOVE U WE SHOULD KISS

ALSO YESSS IRIS FAM MEMBER! READER WHOS AN ACTRESS/ACTOR!!! just imagine being THE mr. reca’s favorite thespian he’s ever worked with oh my gosh im drooling rn 😍🥰😋🔥😜

Yes anon!! Very real of the other anon. And of you.

This is yandere, so tw

Iris!Reader who's an actress/actor would smash. Imagine despite your humble beginnings and barely being able to keep your family afloat you make it. Although perhaps our beloved actor/actress doesn't quite fit the beauty standard, or they haven't made their debut in a popular film, or maybe they just aren't what most movies are focused on right now, considering the disparity between an actor's range and the genres they might partake in.

Here comes Mr. Reca, swooping you from who knows where, plopping you down into a makeup chair and reading the script to you at 50 words/sec speed. You have no idea where you are or what's going on before you're pushed onto the movie set, completely winded before Mr. Reca throws his hands up all "oh alright! Since you can't get the hang of this yet, I'll lend you a hand" or whatever excuse he loves to pull out of his ass. He personally guides you with the movie scripts, drags you along to any parties he may have to attend, forces you "into the filming sphere" or whatever by "exposure". You could be sleeping and he'd blast into your personal residence at 4 in the morning, and drag you along. He probably even forces you to sit down and listen to all his ideas and brainstorming sessions.

The more time you spend with him, the more sense he eventually makes. It's strange, and you almost end up questioning if you might be going insane. But you brush it off, because you realise he's been caring to you. Unlike most directors, he does care for his cast. He does provide a hospitable atmosphere to work with, which makes you realise just why your co-stars are so eager to please him. Mr. Reca, although insane and hard to decipher, makes you almost gravitate towards him when his eccentricities are laid bare before you.

Every time your short contract ends, he's already got the next one printed out and ready for you to sign. You appear so often beside him, it's unusual for you not to. Often, you make headlines with Mr. Reca backing you up. It's all in the palm of his hands when he gets you to stardom.

Oh, but isn't it a bit too much?

Nosy paparazzi that continually stalk and harass you, fans or even those that despise you call you or your family, people surrounding your home just to get a glimpse of your daily life, drivers who follow your car everywhere.. it's a bit too much for your pretty little head to handle. Mr. Reca is all too familiar with these pests. Why don't you stand closer and let him deal with them? Nevermind the fact he paid them, or that he's been rather eager to practice method acting with you.

Speaking of, he's replaced all your co-stars whenever it comes to suggestive or intimate scenes, considering himself as their stand-in since, well.. You're more comfortable with him, aren't you? You've been under his wing for so long, it's easier for you to do these uncomfortable scenes with him, instead of those no good actors.

You're not sure when it happens, but you notice the amount of cast dwindling until it's you and him, all alone. The movies are beautiful, but it's hard to hide the shivering by just pure acting skills when you realise no one has you in their grasp as much as Mr. Reca. His eager, insane eyes watching you like a rabid animal hidden behind a camera when you act all alone on a solitary set. This is the last time he allows the privilege of your visage on the lens, before you mysteriously go missing. You are meant for only the lens of his observant eyes, he states, as though confessing a haunting realisation.

Oh well, you can continue acting. Just remember your audience. It's only him you have to consider pleasing.

[samkerrworshipper]

underneath the surface

umm so i’m back.. kind of? this fic was a rollercoaster but i hold it very near and dear to my heart. i hope you all enjoy it and find some comfort in it because i definitely do <3

warnings: no warnings just some medical jargon and talks of endometriosis!

Alexia has always been credited for her attentiveness.

Most people say that it’s the reason she’s such a good captain, and of course, she denies to everybody that she just goofs around less than some of her teammates.

But, inevitably, it’s true, Alexia is a lot more attentive than other people. She pays attention to the small things, the under the surface things, things that most people wouldn’t bat an eyelid at.

Although, in her opinion, she doesn’t need to be observant nor attentive to be curious about this one part of your relationship.

It doesn’t take brilliant observation skills to recognise a pattern, from the age of two most people are able to recognise patterns. For a two year old, it’s colours and shapes and different farm animals. For Alexia it’s become an observation.

It’s routine, a pattern, a constant repeat in your relationship that for the first few months she ignored.

Like a broken record constantly repeating itself, every month, without fail, you disappeared for a couple of nights.

Not literally, for those days you’ll retreat of the pitch and inside to the gym but Alexia still sees you everyday, and for the most part, you’ll still go out for coffee with her and go on walks together, but for at least three nights, sometimes up to 7, there are no sleepovers, no late night movie binges, no dinners.

It went unnoticed by Alexia for longer than normal, love was Alexia’s biggest weakness and it subtly impaired her abilities to be as observant as she prided herself.

Who could blame her? It was hard to be detail oriented when she was too busy enjoying the puppy dog love that came from realising that she was so in love with her life with you, even if it was still relatively new.

But, even with her focus partially impaired, it didn’t take a whole lot of skills to recognise the abnormality of what was occurring.

It was particularly abnormal, because for every other day of the month, you spent your nights at Alexia’s. Alexia would even go as far to say that you're pretty much moved into her apartment. Your dog had a bed in her apartment, your training kit and bag had a permanent spot at her door, most of your clothes were now sitting next to Alexia’s in her wardrobe.

Your apartment, for the most part, existed purely for the sake of storing all of your furniture. Alexia had brought up leasing it, you’d been dating for almost a year now and whilst it was a short time to move in with each other, the two of you spent so much time together that to her it made the most sense. Beyond that, it was her way of testing the water, to see if her observation was as real as she began to think it was.

Your immediate denial of the idea confirmed what she had been beginning to think.

Originally, she’d thought that maybe you were overwhelmed from constantly being around Alexia, it was a lot being at training together all day and then heading home to each other.

It didn't make sense though.

When you were together, you were attached at the hip. You were both naturally clingy towards each other and after questioning Mapi about it, as ambiguously as she could, she was backed up in that it wasn’t normal behaviour for an overwhelmed person to be so eager to be so connected.

So, the theory was canned and when the following month the same thing happened, Alexia’s curiosity peaked once again.

She moved onto a theory that maybe it was some kind of homesickness, that you just needed to sleep in your own bed a couple of nights every month.

But not only did you constantly complain about your own apartment and how unhomey it felt in comparison to Alexia’s, it was always the same week every month.

Which should have been the biggest clue, and yet for whatever reason it had completely slipped past Alexia.

It was only when one of the team doctors had approached Alexia about her cycle changing, that it all clicked for her.

Alexia’s period had skipped, and they’d logged it a couple of months ago. Obviously, without noticing, it had been because the two of you had synched up, which made plenty of sense.

Alexia’s period was an inconvenience, but it wasn’t a true bother, just something she had to put up with. In all honesties though, for her, her period was nothing to her, she had hardly any symptoms, her body functioned the exact same way, everything was almost the exact same.

Yet, every month, when apparently your period came around, you happened to disappear for a couple of days. Alexia would have loved to think it was a coincidence, but with her new knowledge, she decided to put it to test.

She wasn’t surprised, when the following month her own period came, a couple of days later you were back to hiding out at your place for a couple of nights.

Like lightwork, when you came back to Alexia, you were the exact same, like nothing had happened, and yet Alexia was certain that there was something being hidden underneath the surface.

A lot of people were insecure about their period, Alexia had grown up in a house full of girls, her period had been anything but stigmatised, and she was grateful for that.

She was self aware enough though to know that not everybody was fortunate enough to have that same experience. She was also aware that unfortunately, sometimes peoples partners could be unaccepting and close minded about those kinds of things.

So, when the following month, Alexia got her period and without fail, four days later you mentioned that you would drive yourself to training so that you could head back to your apartment afterwards, Alexia was already plotting away.

She had time to think about it during video review that day, there wasn’t a lot to focus on then when the team was coming off of a 4-0 win to Atletico and anything that was of importance, aAlexia had already noted when she’d watched the immediately after the game.

It was a sound plan in her mind, chocolate, a heat pack, your favourite italian takeaway, Alexia’s favourite hoodie that you always tried to steal and your favourite blanket from her apartment.

Alexia wanted you to know that you could be just as comfortable in her home, regardless of what was happening. Hopefully, in knowing that, you’d let go of the part of you that was so clearly avoiding Alexia.

Alexia, above being observant, liked to be a problem solver. She liked to take initiative, she liked to fix things.

So, after a shower and a quick snack when she’d returned home, she packed up all of the supplies. On the way to your apartment, which she hadn’t visited in months, she picked up food and then was on her way.

In the early months of your relationship, it had just been easier for the two of you to spend time at Alexia’s because it was closer to the training grounds and more lived in.

Whilst you’d been living in Barcelona now for nearly three years, your home was still in England, and it had been hard for you to fully settle into Barcelona even if it was your home for now.

Alexia knew it, so she’d welcomed you into her home with open arms. It had been heartwarming for her to slowly watch you integrate yourself into Alexia’s life, it made her happier then anything else.

So, she made her mind up that whatever this bump was, she was going to help you get over it, so that she could have all of you, and most importantly so you would feel like Alexia cared.

The feeling that Alexia got as she pulled up next to your car in the lot of your apartment was chilling, in her gut it felt like something was wrong. It was a feeling that set into Alexia's stomach as she stepped out of her car and hurried to collect her things before making her way over to the elevator.

Alexia stays as composed as she can manage, even though on the inside, the worry is starting to set in.

It’s not like theoretically she has anything to worry about, it’s not like this is an abnormal situation, but the weird feeling in Alexia’s stomach is putting her off and the only thing that she can think will make it better is seeing your face.

All Alexia wants to do is wrap you up in her arms for a moment, for her own peace of mind, to stop the off feeling that has been resonating inside of her as she’s tried to get to the bottom of this problem, that’s not really a problem. It’s an inconsistency, and one thing about Alexia is that she doesn’t like inconsistency. She fixes problems, she doesn’t enjoy living life whilst there is something that isn’t quite right, and she needs to make this right.

Alexia knocks at your door quietly, two little raps that she hopes you hear.

When she receives nothing in response, she knocks again, this time a little bit louder.

Alexia waits a few seconds, whilst it’s been a couple of hours since your session there is the off chance that you're in the shower or bath.

After quite a bit of waiting with no noises from the other side of the door, Alexia knocks once more, already pulling her keychain from her pocket and feeling for the spare key to your apartment.

When she finds it, she pulls it up to the lock, waiting just a few more seconds before slotting it into the keyhole and twisting it until it clicks.

The first thing Alexia notices is that your apartment is completely pitch black and if it weren’t for the fact that she saw your car earlier, she might have just left.

Alexia tiptoes her way through the entryway and into your kitchen, it’s hard to see much with all of the blinds pulled shut and none of the lights on, so she blindly feels around for the light switch until she finally finds it and flicks it.

The immediate groan that comes from the direction of your couch definitely does not go unnoticed by Alexia.

“Lights off.”

As fast as she can, Alexia turns the light back off, before curiously tiptoeing over to the edge of your couch.

You’re a lump under a pile of blankets, but she’s able to make out the shape of your body underneath it.

“Hey baby.”

You groan again, and the feeling in Alexia’s stomach only gets worse.

Alexia takes a few steps forwards, assessing you in front of her.

Her hand reaches out tentatively for you, she feels around the mass of blankets until she feels a part of your body underneath the pile of fluff, she follows the lump until she makes her way up to your head.

Your whole body is warm, or the blankets are warm, she isn’t actually quite sure where the blankets end and your body starts.

“Why are you here?”

Your voice is all croaky, and Alexia is certain you must be sick and she’s somehow missed all the symptoms of it.

“I wanted to spend the night with you.”

Alexia’s hand finally finds a bit of skin on your neck and she traces her fingers until she finds your jawline.

“Go home, Ale.”

The sound of your voice is making Alexia antsy, she can’t believe she’s missed the fact that you are sick.

“No, bebita, you’re sick and I’m here to look after you. I have your favourite food and chocolate, we can cuddle up in bed and you can sleep this off. I brought my hoodie for you.”

Alexia turns your head up, so your hair is peaking out of the blanket mound and she can see your squinted eyes.

“I’m not sick, Alexia.”

You keep your eyes crammed shut for the sake of not making the pounding headache you have any worse.

“Bebita, you’re all hot and croaky, it’s okay to be sick, I’m here to look after you.”

If you weren’t working so hard to keep your eyes closed you’d roll them, but that seems like far too much work for right now.

“Alexia I’m not sick, I’m just on my period.”

Alexia’s brow furrows, if your eyes weren’t closed you’d catch it. It’s the same furrow that always happens when Alexia thinks somebody else is wrong and she’s right.

“Bebita, this seems like a little bit more than a period. It’s okay, I’m here.”

You groan and Alexia recoils slightly.

“It’s just my period.”

Your deadpan makes Alexia confused.

“Your period shouldn’t be this bad. Are you having some heatstroke? It’s been warm out today, or are you having a migraine? You need to remember to hydrate.”

Your head is throbbing and Alexia’s theories aren’t helping.

“I have endometriosis Alexia, this is what my period looks like.It’s not fucking heatstroke or a sickness it’s just how my body is..”

Out of everything Alexia had been suspecting, that wasn’t it.

It suddenly dawns on Alexia that she can’t fix what you’ve just told her, she’s standing in front of you completely dumbfounded at what to do in this moment.

Alexia is a problem solver, she finds solutions for the biggest and smallest problems, and yet she doesn’t have a solution for the problem she is being faced with.

“Baby, just go home, the first night for me is always the worst, if I feel better I can hang out with you tomorrow.”

Alexia doesn’t have a solution to the pain you are going through, but she knows she isn’t going to let you suffer alone. The information that you’ve been doing this by yourself for a year now is making Alexia feel like the worst girlfriend ever and she’s going to change that.

“No, bebita, no. I’m staying here tonight, I’m here for you mi vida. Would it make you feel better if we got you into bed or into a bath? What’s going to make you more comfortable? Have you had medication? How about some food?”

When another groan leaves your lips, Alexia becomes aware that she’s approaching this the wrong way.

“How about I go and put the food in your kitchen and you decide what’s going to make you feel best. I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

Alexia quietly tiptoes back into your kitchen, taking her time to put her things away and pulling two bottles of water from your fridge before making her way back into your living room.

You’ve emerged from your pile by the time she is back, your eyes are still closed but just seeing your face makes Alexia’s nerves settle just a little bit.

“Can we go to my bed, please?”

Alexia smiles at you softly.

“Of course amor, do you want me to carry you or do you think you can walk?”

The apprehension on your face is enough of a answer for Alexia.

She walks over towards you, picking up your blanket fort and body like it’s nothing and gently lifting you up, stepping carefully in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan out at the change of position, nothing feels good at the moment but Alexia’s arms are more comforting than the scratchy material of your couch cushions.

When she makes it to your bed, she lowers you down like you are the most delicate piece of glass, making sure that you’re tucked underneath the sheets before easing you out of your arms.

“Do you need anything? Heat pack? Water? Talk?”

Again, all Alexia’s words do is make the itching pain all over your body ten times worse, it’s all consuming and makes you feel choked.

“Bed, hugs, that’s all I want.”

Alexia is antsy, she wants to make the pain you are in better, she wants to know what to do right now instead of being completely blind in the situation.

“Are you sure? How about some pain relief or a cold compress?”

Alexia is no doctor, and up until five minutes ago she had absolutely no idea about this whole situation and whether she feels like she can admit it or not she’s terrified about it all.

She’s made up her mind that as soon as you're asleep she’s going to go on a deep dive of google searches to get to the bottom of this whole situation, but that will have to wait.

“Alexia, if you want to be here, just get into bed and give me some fucking hugs. I’m not in the mood to be told what to do with my body when I’ve been dealing with this for years, make up your mind of whether you want to be here or not.”

Alexia avoids conflict with you at all costs, she’s earned the title around your football friends of being your puppy dog, because she simply agrees to anything and everything that leaves your lips, and hearing you remotely mad at her makes her crumble.

“Sorry bebita, I’m so sorry, you’re right. I’m here for whatever you need.”

Alexia makes quick work of slipping her shoes off, something she never got around to in the darkness of your entryway.

She follows by taking her socks and outer layers off, stripping down until she’s in her tank top and a pair of old Barcelona training shorts.

Once she’s done she creeps around to the other side of your bed, slipping underneath the covers as subtly as she can manage.

When she’s completely covered, she lies back, unsure of how to approach all of this new information.

“You’re lying like a rigid corpse.”

Alexia gulps, she can see you in her peripherals, you look absolutely exhausted and in the kindest way possible, ten years older with the amount of wrinkles across your skin, bumps and ridges she can only imagine are the tightness holding in all of the struggle that you’re going through underneath the surface.

“Alexia, I’m okay, I’m not dying.”

Alexia knows theoretically that is true, she doesn’t have endometriosis and she’s not close to anybody who does, but she knows what it is. She knows it’s not cancer or something life-threatening, but the depth of the realisation that you’ve been suffering for so long and have kept it from Alexia is slowly pulling her apart at the seams.

You roll over slightly, it causes shocks of pain to go up and down your back and stomach, but you need the comfort as much as Alexia does, even if she isn’t ready to accept it.

She’s going through her process, compartmentalising all of it so she can be the brave and stoic face she always is.

You’re used to it, and you’ve come to realise that even though in these kinds of situations it seems like Alexia needs to be left alone, in reality she needs to be kept close by her nearest and dearest.

So, you worm your way on top of her body, it makes the cramps ten times worse and the nausea takes control of your stomach, forcing somersault after somersault, but when Alexia’s arms reach around you out of instinct it’s worth it.

You’re in pain, your uterus feels like it’s got knives embedded along the lining of it, like there are needles poking in and out of your back and gunshots being fired across your lower abdomen. But you’re well used to it, you’re used to the feeling of needing to throw up from having such intense throbbing pain across your whole core.

You’re used to the pounding headaches and migraines that come naturally from your body being so inflamed and agitated that all the tension eventually spreads to every single inch of your body, from the tips of your fingers to the edges of your toes.

Your head settles on Alexia’s shoulder, and her hand snakes it’s way down to the outside of your thigh, she’s being more cautious than she’s ever been with you and the normal you would probably be heartwarmed by her sweetness but the part of you that is currently seeing the worst kind of stars because of the cramps coursing through your body is just desperate to climb into her bones now that she is here with you.

It’s been ingrained in you since you were a kid that it was best to not bother other people with your weakness, it was your own struggle, your own burden.

You’d kept it from Alexia for this sole purpose, for the purpose that you knew she would take it all on as her problem, that she would try and fix it all and spend all of her time and energy trying to solve it all when you just wanted her to treat you the exact same.

She treated you like a princess everyday, but add a crippling reproductive condition and you knew she’d treat you like a priceless artefact. You were grateful you had a person in your life who would move heaven and earth in such a way for you but it was suffocating sometimes, when you were functioning on a normal level.

It was with those thoughts running rampant in your head that you slipped off into the same light sleep that you were lucky to drift into in these circumstances.

Whilst you drifted off, Alexia was left alone with her own thoughts.

Insecurity wasn’t something Alexia experienced often, she was secure in her body, she is as secure in her football as she has been since her knee injury, she’s secure in her family and up until today she felt completely secure in her relationship.

Now, she doesn’t know how she feels.

She knows that it’s likely you have a good reason to have kept this a secret, or a reason that you’ve justified to yourself. She knows underneath it all, you’re the one who’s secretly been hiding a big insecurity from her and she has no right to be truly mad about it, she’s disappointed that you haven’t felt able to share this with her when it feels like Alexia has bared all of her deepest, boniest secrets with you.

She does what makes sense, she reaches for her phone from her short pocket and begins to google all of the big questions that are swirling around in her mind.

You might have wanted to keep this a secret from Alexia but now that she knows about it she’d be a bad girlfriend if she didn’t educate herself on this.

So, instead of drifting off to sleep, Alexia drifts off into the land of medical journals and words that she doesn’t understand the meaning of but she’s determined to figure out.

You wake up in the morning in less of a state of excruciating suffering, instead of being stuck in a fiery inferno of hell you feel like you're dancing more on the periphery.

Your body is warm, in a way that makes you feel less like your insides are scorching you from the inside and more like you're generally just hot.

It feels like a caterpillar emerging from its cocoon as you try to unroll from the blankets that you’d swaddled yourself in the night beforehand in an attempt to try and make yourself feel as small as possible in hopes it would somehow shrink down everything you were feeling.

It’s a feverish dream, and as you recall your night, blotches begin to come back to you and the memory of your girlfriend appearing somewhere along the way makes the dull cramps across the front of your stomach beat in a way that makes you uncomfortably uneasy all over again.

As you assess your surroundings and open your eyes for what feels like the first time in months, you notice that Alexia is no longer in bed with you.

It’s all extremely faint in your head and there is an off chance you’ve dreamt it all up, but the very faint smell of coffee drifting through the air and folded up clothes sitting on the dresser on the wall across from your bed.

You’re feeling less deathly than last night, so you wager your chances with slowly sitting up in your bed, when you don’t feel any different you begin to lift your legs up.

Your muscles ache in the same way they do every time your period comes around, they tweak and they constrict like you’re an eighty year old instead of a twenty something.

It’s rough, it’s uncomfortable and it’s painful but it’s life.

It’s your life, it’s your burden, it’s your problem and knowing that Alexia is now a part of it all makes you queasy in a completely different way.

Your heavy on your feet as you stand up and begin to creep towards the door of your bedroom, with every step every one of your toes grinds against the floorboards. Your heel digs in, your ankles crunch, your body moves in a way that mirrors the way that you are crumbling from within. On these kinds of days, weeks and months, everything hurts. Everything is an effort.

Once you make it to your open door, you steady yourself against it, your nerves are working against you, everything inside of you is actively trying to stop you and you’ll be damned if you let it happen.

You only stand still long enough for it to be classified in your brain as a stall, not a break, not a stop. You can’t stop in times like this, if you stop then you’ll never get going again and that is a whole pit of fuckedupness that you aren’t ready to dive into.

From the door, you try your hardest to tiptoe your way through the hallway to your living space, but it’s impossible in your body.

As you inch closer, the sound of Alexia only becomes more apparent and obvious, and as you creep closer the agitation across your body only gets worse.

As you reach the archway between your hallway and living space, the sight in front of you makes your heart throb and your uterus ache even worse then it already is.

Alexia is swaying in your kitchen, apparently to whatever music she has playing in her head. There is coffee on the counter, accompanied by two bottles of juice and water, like she couldn’t decide what would be best. To accompany the extra drinks is toast, eggs, bacon and pancakes on the stove.

It’s too much.

With the combination of hormones in your bloodstream you’re honestly impressed that you don’t burst into tears.

Alexia’s still here.

Alexia, sweet, loyal Alexia.

You’ve been conditioned to keep all of this a secret, that during this week it’s best to keep yourself and everything you’re going through hidden, for the best of yourself and for everyone around you. Yet, here Alexia is doing way too much for you.

You’re downward spiralling when her voice breaks you out.

“Hey bebe.”

Her voice is close to a coo, the same voice she uses with Irene’s son. You don’t let it affect you in the moment, but you’ll think about the tactic of it later.

“I have food for you, and coffee if you want it, but google told me that sometimes that’s not always good for endometriosis. So I got juice as well, because google also said it might help with inflammation.”

The thought behind it is extremely sweet, and you feel slightly overwhelmed by all of the options.

“You didn’t need to do that for me.”

Alexia frowns, it’s slight and hardly noticeable, but the little wrinkle between her eyebrows is an immediate tell.

“I wanted to, I want to help you, however I can.”

The sentiment behind her words is lost in the sudden shock that you experience as her words settle in, you’ve never met a single person, besides a doctor whose job it was to help you, that gave a shit about this.

When you have no words, Alexia finds some for you.

“I want to talk to you about this, I want to know about it, I want to help you. We’re partners, we do everything together, and I want to do this with you. I don’t want you to lock me out and I don’t want you suffering alone. I’m here for this, I’m here for you to lean on.”

You nod your head, her words feel like a drug, like it’s lifting away some of the pain you’re going through.

“I’m serious, this isn’t something you can hide from me. You looked after me when I hurt my knee and I am here to look after you in the same way when you’re in pain. Bebita?”

Alexia’s hand falls to your side, caressing your hip gently.

“I’m not used to people knowing about this, and I’m even more not used to people caring, I’m sorry, it’s just a lot to process.”

Alexia’s face softens, and before you can say any other stupid mumbles, she pulls you from the hip into her body. Her arms are warm, and yet oddly they soothe your prickly skin.

You melt into Alexia, you feel like shit but she makes you feel marginally better.

“Coffee, or juice?”

You stifle a giggle that falls from your lips.

“Juice, please.”

Alexia relaxes her arms, taking a step back.

“Can I get you any pain relief, or a new heat pack? Is your headache better?”

Alexia looks at you with so much genuine care that it’s hard to not feel embarrassed.

“Pain relief doesn’t sit well in my stomach on a good day. I save heat packs for when the cramps are really bad or else they don’t have the same effect. My headaches normally are at the end of the day as a result of tension build up during the day.”

Alexia looks as if she’s taking mental note of everything you’ve just told her, for later.

“How about some food, hmm?”

You want to say yes, because Alexia’s clearly gone to so much effort for you, but you know that if you eat this early and then train your stomach contents is going to end up on a pitch or somewhere inconvenient.

“My stomach won’t keep it if we train later, I’m better to eat afterwards.”

Alexia’s brow furrows once again.

“I called the doctor and Pere this morning, we’re both taking today off.”

Everything warm and good about the moment fades, and suddenly all you feel is confusion.

“Why did you do that?”

Alexia steps away from you and retreats into your kitchen, grabbing a glass for you and picking up the bottle of juice that she knows you prefer.

“Because I thought you were dying last night, and you can’t tell me that all of that has just disappeared this morning. You’re struggling and you don’t need to push through pain to prove that you are worthy or good enough. You’re self worth shouldn’t be dictated by you proving to yourself that you can work through a chronic disease. I’m sorry that I didn't notice earlier and that I wasn't there for you earlier but I'm here to advocate for you now.”

You want to tell Alexia that you don’t need an advocate, you can advocate just fine for yourself. But a part of you knows that she doesn’t want to hear it and that part of you is also the part that is crippling from the inside and simply doesn’t have the energy to argue with your girlfriend.

“I train just fine normally.”

Alexia can’t argue that, even though you spend the time in the gym, she’s never heard of anything out of the ordinary occurring.

“But you don’t have to. In fact when I talked to our doctor she told me that she’d been insisting on you being more cautious of your cycle and spending more time resting during it considering your history.”

You roll your eyes, taking the glass of juice Alexia offers you.

Alexia plates up a breakfast that could feed a family of four, but it makes you feel less bad for not eating any of it.

“It’s my body, I know my limits.”

You focus on your glass of juice and not the face Alexia makes at you.

“You know how to continuously meet and exceed your limits, but what about just leaving them and giving yourself some peace. I know nothing about what you are going through, I can only sympathise. But I know this must be incredibly hard and I know you definitely do not give yourself enough grace and definitely don’t care for your needs enough. I’m here for you to confide in, I’ve done my research, I’m prepared to help however you need.”

It’s endearing how clearly prepared Alexia has made herself.

“You’ve done your research, hmm?”

Alexia nods proudly.

“Lots of it. Like about how orgasms can help with cramps.”

She looks like she’s going to say more, but you splutter your juice straight back into your cup, causing her to stop.

Alexia’s always been more open with her sexuality then you are, it’s culturally more acceptable in Spain but she also grew up with it being slightly more normalised.

“Alexia.”

Her grin is broad, like she’s proud that she’s managed to embarrass you.

“It’s true! Although for some people endometriosis can cause pain whilst having sex, so if you’re one of those people then it may not work but if you want to try I’m happy to help, fingers, toys, everything but mouths is on the table.”

Your blush only gets more cemented.

“I’m okay for right now, the thought of any kind of intimacy makes my fallopian tubes ache.”

Alexia nods her head, you are certain that sometime in the future this topic will arise again. Alexia’s rabbit-like sex drive makes it hard to not involve sex in everything you do together.

“Can I ask what your symptoms normally look like?”

Alexia’s lip is caught between her teeth, it’s the first time she’s looked nervous this entire conversation.

“Of course. Normally for me, I get bad pelvic pain which never really goes away, sweats, fever sometimes, cramps everywhere, i bloat, i get quite nauseous and occasionally it can make me moody. Furthermore, it can cause me to have migraines, some joint pain, insomnia, there are other things but those are the main ones. Overall it just makes me drained, i’m more fatigued but I can’t sleep, it makes me feel pretty lifeless.”

Alexia nods, she listens to every single word with so much attention.

“I always assumed the scars on your stomach were from getting your appendix removed, but I’m assuming now it’s a laparoscopy?”

You’re impressed by the level of detail Alexia has gone to for you.

“I have had my appendix removed but also yes, I’ve had two laparoscopy’s and I’m putting off getting my third done.”

Alexia nods.

“Do they make it better?”

You bite your lip before nodding.

“It’s never perfect, but for a bit it definitely makes my symptoms better. I’m putting off getting my next one because the last time I did it put me out of action for two months and it took me a while to get back to where I was. My body is different, it changes you. Before you ask, I’ve tried birth control, I’ve tried IUD’s, I’ve tried other forms of contraception, they all made it impossible for me to play football.”

Alexia shakes her head.

“I wasn’t going to ask you that, it’s your decision what you do and don’t put in your body, and I’m sure you’re just making whatever decisions work best for you.”

It’s refreshing having somebody not question what you do and don’t do for yourself.

“That means a lot to me.”

Alexia puts down her cutlery, her food somehow disappearing into her stomach.

“It’s just what love is, and I’m here to love you for forever, if you’ll let me.”

You’ve put off crying, you’ve tried your very best, but it’s not possible anymore.

The tears fall freely, and before you know it Alexia has pulled you into her lap.

It hurts, everything hurts, and yet everything feels so much better knowing you’re in her arms.

“I’ve got you bebita, I’m here now, I’m here to help you work this all out.”

——————————————————————

whelp that’s done! thoughts, feedback and general opinions would be appreciated! i’m so happy to have made something for yall and it’s rushed and super unedited and definitely not my favorite work but i hope you enjoy it all the same 🫶

[elodieunderglass]

Hi what do you MEAN charlie has the mild psychic ability of predicting deaths I wanna hear all about this

(In reference to Killie the jockey OC and his family)

There’s a very slight thread of unprovable, borderline-deniable magical realism going on with the twins. They have magical twin telepathy (that doesn’t exist and isn’t real and never does anything useful anyway), Killie has horsegirl powers of animal communication (but those are not uncommon in horse people anyway, and it’s one of the real magics of the earth) and Charlie has danger or death premonitions (but not consistently or in any useful format, of course, and they appear to change sometimes, so it’s completely unprovable, and anyway he doesn’t believe in it.)

these aren’t real and don’t exist. The horsegirl powers are practically expected, and who’s to say if Killie’s are unusually strong or he’s just a good equestrian; death premonitions don’t make sense, and Charlie has been wrong with them. And while there were some deeply uncanny examples of twin telepathy in their childhood, including knowing about each other’s injuries and emotions at a distance, it’s the sort of thing that twins frequently report anecdotally, and everyone normalises it while agreeing it doesn’t exist; after all, it never does anything useful.

They had more overlap as children, and had clear agreement on the feeling of their own and each other’s deaths, with accompanying very strong sensory information/context. although as children it was harder to interpret, and was possibly entirely made up anyway. Upon estrangement, Charlie shut the telepathy off instantly and entirely. Killie lost premonitions entirely, retaining only horsegirl powers and the fixed certainty of the mental image of his death. Charlie lost everything, but possibly considered this a bonus. Coming back together, they may have picked back up on having things that never existed in the first place.

This doesn’t matter, isn’t real and makes no difference, although they keep forgetting that it’s a mildly uncanny thing to be confident about, and Charlie might make offhand comments about a pony being murdered for insurance fraud (easily handwaved by his social skills and insights into people’s motivations and character - “seems like the kind of thing Mum would do”) and Killie might pull off uncanny feats of horse-handling (easily handwaved by being a champion jockey, that’s what he’s FOR) but it’s not like it doesn’t make SENSE.

The only point at which this matters is that at some point in the story, the brothers realise that Killie’s death has changed. He was originally scheduled to die well before having any Greyuncle Era at all, and after a few turning points it changes to something else. Both brothers are absolutely clear on this: Killie materially, with great force of will, changes his fate.

This has massive in-universe implications for What The Hell Kind of Universe Is This. What the hell does this imply for fate, free will, destiny, death, and mild psychic powers?

Nothing. It doesn’t exist.

Don’t worry about it.

[sp4ceboo]

The Way You Were: Ken Sato x Reader

genre: the one who got away, canon universe, happens post movie, ANGST (gets resolved), fluff, romance, childhood sweethearts, healing old wounds

summary: in which you spot your long lost love from across the club, and he spots you. as he makes his way over to you, you can't help but wonder which side of him will greet you: the one you fell in love with, or the one who left scars all over your heart.

a/n: finally i get to pull this one out of the vault. it's very unlike my normal writing but i'm still very proud of it, pls give it some love :))

tw: no smut just feelings, mentions of sex tho, heavy making out and a bit of grinding, one (1) briefly mentioned hard on, mentions of breakup, crying, ridiculously angsty at the beginning, ridiculously soft, ridiculously nostalgic, lurve lurve lurveeee

wc: 3.7k

If she’s real, Fate sure has a cruel sense of humour.

There’s no other explanation to why Kenji Sato, a man so deeply intertwined into your past, a man you’d tried so many times to extract from where he was embedded into your soul, stands across the club, his back to you.

You know the smile that softens his angular features before he even turns around. You know those hand gestures, that oozing nonchalance, that false cockiness, and yet, all the same, you don’t know who this man is at all - you know the old Kenji Sato, the one who would wait awkwardly for you after class, the one who gripped your hands nervously while watching the baseball championships, the one who kissed softly you under the bleachers.

The one who got away.

Years have passed since those nostalgia sweetened memories. You have no idea how much of that old Ken is left, or if he’s transformed himself into an invincible stranger, one without those insecurities and weaknesses that made him your Ken.

It had started with wide eyed firsts at seventeen years old: kisses stolen between lessons, hands fumbling over each other’s bodies in the dark of his bedroom. By the time Ken was scouted by a baseball team, it had turned into something more solid: the two of you were star crossed lovers, and you fit together perfectly - until you didn’t any more.

You’re not exactly sure who changed. Maybe it was both of you, but you felt the absence of the awkward, lanky teenage boy more acutely than anything else, for he was not your highschool crush any more, but a man who felt the pressure of his reputation as much as the weight of the baseball bat in his hands. He became cocky to hide his fears from you, as if you could ever see him as weak.

The more the baseball critics talked, the less Ken did.

He hated it when you prodded him, when you tried to get past the walls that had been erected overnight. You loved him, even when half the time he came home drunk and damningly silent, his eyes narrowed and his knee bouncing when you could say nothing in response to the sceptics’ articles. You tried to hold on to him, but in the end it was inevitable.

The love of your life slipped from between your slack fingers like the sands of time, and all you could do was watch - all you could do was become increasingly aware of how the two of you had been acting like stupid, starry eyed kids.

When it ended, he was vicious with the same strength of an animal on the verge of death, and you took it all, bearing the pain and the hurt because maybe it was your fault that you hadn’t seen it coming sooner.

When it ended, the sorrow felt as if you had just passed off the opportunity to have your soul completed.

When it ended, it broke you.

It broke you, and he disappeared. He removed himself from your life with surgical precision, as if to prove to the spectators that he didn’t need you and the warm baths you drew when he came back from a game or the softness of your hands or your loyalty, your never wavering faith in him that no one else even tried to pretend they had.

You didn’t even realise he’d left Los Angeles behind for the greener pastures of Tokyo baseball until you recognised him on your TV screen years later.

And now, you’re in the same room as him.

Had your friends chosen a different club or had you stayed home, had you not taken that job in Tokyo almost two years ago, you might have never seen him again. Or maybe Fate would have twisted your paths together anyways, if just for a laugh; maybe he would have gone back to visit his mum and bumped into you on the street, maybe he would have reached out over text. Maybe, whatever path you took, he’d still be weaving his way towards you through the crowd like he is now.

You can see his face now. He’s taken off his reflective shades - they’re tucked into the neck of his black tee, hanging just above the simple gold necklace that sits at the dip of his collarbones. His build is as lean as it ever was, but you can tell he’s gotten stronger, his shoulders broader; his face has slimmed down, matured, lost the last of the baby fat he still had when he was twenty, yet his eyes are the same bright ones that you used to get lost in.

You wonder if he’s changed from the Ken that you couldn’t keep beside you however hard you tried. You wonder if he’s become the cocky, mean Ken who you saw the makings of, that would be walking towards you now just to get in your pants and one up you out of spite, so he could prove you mean nothing to him now (worse, you wonder if you’d let him, just to hold him one more time).

He stops in front of you, and although his expression is soft and surprisingly open, you can’t help but doubt it, can’t help but hide your heart deeper in your chest so he can’t snatch it for himself as easily as he’d done before.

Ken’s lips tilt upwards, but it’s not a smile yet. “Hey.”

You stare at him. You haven’t seen him in years, and the empty space between the last time you saw him and now is so starkly obvious. He’s gotten taller, somehow, and there’s an ease to his confidence that wasn’t there before; you can smell some sort of fancy cologne on him and although there’s bags under his eyes, of course he looks fucking divine.

Yes, Fate has a cruel sense of humour.

Very cruel, and not funny at all when you’re the butt of the joke and when the man before you makes you want to cry as much as the last time you laid your eyes on him. You’ve never sobbed, wept, the way you did when he turned his back on you as he left, cold and unreachable and never to be seen again - until now.

“Hello, Kenji,” you reply stiffly.

He winces. “Not even Ken, huh?”

Mutely, you nod, not knowing what else to say when all you can think about is whether his embrace still feels as comforting as it did all those years ago. You think it might, with those shoulders as broad as the ocean.

“Back to strangers, then?”

You swallow. “No. I’d - I’d like to think I still know who you are.”

“Me too,” he sighs.

“Not sure it’s possible, but I guess it would do us good to start over,” you admit with a dry smile.

“I don’t think so,” he says, voice soft, words slow. “It hurt - I hurt you, but I wouldn’t want to lose all the good parts.” His eyes meet yours, and there is so much in them - almost too much. “Remember that one camping trip?”

Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“And when we went ice skating?”

You can hear what he’s saying, the meaning beneath those words. He’s asking if you remember the tender nights, when you held each other, swaddled in the soft blanket of youth; he’s asking if you remember feeling that magnetic tug in your soul when you touched. He’s asking if you remember how you loved him - how he loved you.

“Never said I was going to be good at that,” you huff, cracking a smile.

“And how we used to go to the playground near your house after parties?”

This time, you chuckle. “Can you imagine? You look out the window and there are two deranged teenagers trying to squeeze down the slide at three in the morning.”

Ken throws his head back and laughs, really laughs, loud enough that you can hear it over the pumping music of the club, and the sound hurls you right back into the past. You’ve heard that sound so many times, you’ve replayed it in your head as a longing memory, and now he’s here, in the flesh, and all you can do is try to fight the tears welling in your eyes.

Turning your head, you look away, painting a smile on because you don’t want him to see you cry. Of course he notices - he always did, even though there were times where he would pretend he didn’t - but this time, he faces it head on, placing a gentle hand on your arm, light enough for you to shake off if you want to. All it does is make you want to cry harder.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter, yeah?”

With a hand at the small of your back, Ken leads you out of the club and down a few streets until he can sit you down on a park bench; he plops down beside you, not touching you but not far away, either. The night air is gelid compared to the club, nipping at your cheeks, and he waits quietly until you can meet his eyes again, his gaze steady as he searches yours.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, then swallows thickly and steels himself. “I’m sorry I treated you like shit. I never - “ He pauses when you sit up a little straighter. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m listening. I… I’d like to know how you feel.”

Slowly, Ken nods and swallows again. The streetlights cast shadows across his face, deepening his cheekbones and limning his skin, and you watch him struggle with his words for a moment. You watch as he prepares to tear down walls that are years old for you, while you wonder what has changed him that he is so willing to try to bare his soul to you in a way he never could back then, what shifted while you slowly became strangers.

Gently, you reach out to take his hand to find his already waiting. Stroking a thumb over his knuckles as he works his jaw, finding words, you wait, letting him formulate his sentences; you know it is as hard for him as it is for you to be so close, and yet something in you burns with the hope of new beginnings.

“I was so afraid that you wouldn’t want me if I showed any weakness that I locked myself away, and - and that wasn’t what you deserved,” he chokes out. “I was all wrapped up in myself and too fucking stupid and stubborn to even crawl back. I’m sorry for the things I said to you, called you that night, and I’m sorry I can’t take them back.” He takes a shaky breath. “I took you for granted and hurt you, and I should have never - ”

“No,” you cut in. “The blame isn’t just on you, Ji. I - I should have fought so much harder for us. I saw what the pressure did to you, what the sceptics said, and I did nothing. At that point I may as well have warmed my hands in the fire they used to burn you at the stake with. I fucked up. We fucked up. I’m sorry, too.”

When you look up at him, he’s smiling. A tear slips down his face, and he catches it with the back of his hand; you’re not sure how you’ve held your own back for so long, but now they fall as you fall towards each other, his arms wrapping tight around you as he envelops you. You were right - his embrace is as comforting as it was, and a lump forms in your throat because beneath his cologne you smell his familiar scent, the scent of home.

You stay tucked together, sheltering in each other’s arms for a while. Eventually, he shifts, pulling back a little as his hand brushes over your hair. His eyes are soft, bright like they always were; you think you like this Kenji Sato, who is so similar yet so different to the boy you knew from highschool in LA.

You think you’re falling in love again.

No, not quite; you never stopped loving him.

That revelation almost makes you cry again, but instead you smile at him, and when he returns your expression you feel something mending deep within your heart, knitting itself together after being rent apart for so long. The way he looks at you is tender enough, raw enough, to make old wounds heal. 

“Let me help you get back home,” Ken bids you. “I can call a cab?”

“We can walk,” you offer. “It’s not too far.”

“What brought you to Tokyo?” Ken asks as the two of you enter the lift up to your apartment.

“I came here almost two years ago,” you reply. “My company had a big office here and when they gave me the choice to move here or London, I chose here. I don’t really know why, exactly. Everyone says it’s always raining in the UK, and, well, at that point I knew you were here. I didn’t think we’d ever meet but at least there wouldn’t be an ocean between us.”

“Oh, so you’ve been waiting for this to happen for two years?” He teases as you turn the key in your door.

Rolling your eyes, you herd him into your flat before becoming serious again. “No, Ji, I didn’t even understand if I wanted to see you again. You were my first love, and deep down, I, I still lo - ”

Abruptly, you cut yourself off. Ken’s eyes have widened almost comically, but you find you can’t laugh at him with the sincerity of your words still hanging in the air; the pound of your heart in your chest is too loud, like it’s trying to break free of your ribcage. Maybe, to him, you’ve changed as much as he has to you, and he hadn’t been expecting you to so freely confess that you still feel that inexplicable pull of your soul towards his.

Biting your lip, you scurry across your kitchen and open the fridge door, if only to give yourself a barrier to hide behind. Did you just ruin everything? You didn’t even ask if he wanted to come in, you just ushered him into the flat, and although he offered to walk with you and come up in the lift with you, maybe he was just being polite.

“Want anything to drink?” Your voice comes out higher than it should as you turn to glance at him over your shoulder. “O - oh.”

He’s right there. You hadn’t expected him to follow you to the fridge, although you know now that this new, mature Kenji is in tune with your emotions, could definitely sense your embarrassment, and isn’t afraid to face it, yet also that he is the same as the old Kenji - just with his sharp edges softened and a bit more wisdom under his belt.

“Sorry, I didn’t…” He trails off.

You’re staring. You can’t help it. He’s so close that your head is spinning and you haven’t fully appreciated how good his hair looks tonight, sleek and half falling into his eyes, nor the flawless way his black t-shirt fits his arms and shoulders, nor the absurdly perfect bridge of his nose and how it complements his cheekbones and -

You realise with a jolt that he’s staring too. That his eyes just darted from yours down to your lips and back up again, that he’s leaning closer and closer to you until you’re sharing air, and that you really, really, really want him to take your clothes off.

Ken Sato takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and kisses you.

His fingers slide to cup your jaw, his other hand finding your waist and pulling your body closer to his, your lips moving against his in a way that is so achingly familiar; he nips and sucks at your lower lip and you don’t think you could ever get bored of kissing him like this. Running your palms up his back, you bunch your fingers in his shirt - like hell you’re going to let him go, now that you’ve found him again, like hell you’re going to let him even think about walking out while he’s got his tongue moving against yours like this.

Gliding down your sides, his big hands settle at your hips and squeeze. You curse against his soft lips and he dips his head to mouth at your throat, right over your jugular, his nose drawing a line down your skin before he travels lower, his tongue laving along your collarbone. Fumbling to close the fridge door behind you, you steady yourself with a palm on the handle. Fuck, your knees haven’t felt this weak in a while.

You realise that all this time, all those years spent without him, this is what you were missing, searching for it even if you didn’t know it. The way he navigates your body is effortless, as if you’ve only been apart for a few days and not a few years. He knows to kiss you at the hollow of your neck, he knows to cup your waist in his hands, he knows how to drown you in him in a way that still leaves you hungry.

Sighing into his mouth, you slip your hands under the hem of his shirt, bringing them round to feel the hard planes of his chest under your palms. Unhurriedly, you drag your nails down his abs, hooking your fingers in his waistband and tugging him closer; he groans in response, biting down on your shoulder, and you feel him, hard against you as you lean into each other.

“Fuck, Ji,” you gasp as he rocks his hips into yours.

Cursing, he grits out your name, and you tug at his shirt - he pulls away, just long enough for you to wrestle it off him before he’s crowding against you again, as if he can’t bear to not touch you. A smirk tugs at your mouth as you run your hands appreciatively over his torso, over his sculpted chest and arms.

Maybe it’s the touch of your lips on his skin, right over his heart, or maybe it’s the way your hands coast over him, eager to feel all of him, that sends a jolt through him. Ken grabs your wrists, halting your progress, and you look up at him, quizzical.

“Wait,” he breathes. “We, I… we can’t do this the same way we did this last time.”

You blink, mind still foggy with wanting. “Ji?”

He cups your face. “It’s not that I don’t want you, my love, it’s the opposite. I’m not going to let myself just fuck you and go to sleep. I haven’t seen you in years. I - I need you to know I’m not here just for that. I want to take my time with you.”

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with what he said. You gaze up at him, drinking up those sparkling eyes, feeling the gentle way he positions his hands on you, one cradling your chin and the other holding your waist, and realise that you’re seeing your Ken Sato - grown, yes, but still yours, eternally yours.

What he’s saying is right. The old you would have jumped straight into his arms, and he would have let you - you would have spoken with your bodies, not your words, leaving the tears and rips in your hearts to fester and rot, never acknowledging them for long enough for them to heal.

But somehow, Fate has gifted you a second try at love, and this time, the two of you will do it the way it should be done; he’s looking at you so tenderly, so hopefully, and it makes your stomach flutter. There’s no rush. Now you’ve got him in your arms again, you won’t be letting him go.

You brush his hair out of his eyes. “Okay, then. Shall we talk instead?”

He smiles. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

The lens you see the world through after that night with Kenji makes everything brighter, more beautiful. You find new appreciation for the ads of him plastered all over the city when he tells you funny stories behind the shoots, for the way the littlest things make you think of him, for the regular date nights and the hours you spend staying up late, talking with him.

For a famous baseball player, he sure has a lot of time for you.

He hangs on to your every word, looking at you as if you hung the stars in the sky; he listens to your rants about work and your favourite show and your fucking landlord. You make sure you show up to his baseball matches, cheering whether he’s winning or losing, knowing that he’ll be in your arms the moment he’s off the pitch.

You watch him open up to you like a flower leaning towards the sun, his words muffled as he rests his head on your shoulder late at night and tells you how his mum disappeared, how he used to avoid his dad but how recently they’ve gotten closer after they found some common ground.

And when he tells you what that common ground was - a bright pink, baby kaiju - everything falls into place.

Finally, you understand what changed him on his course, what softened him after the critics forced him to build walls: a baby as cute as her size, and a secret life as Ultraman. You kissed him when he told you, melting the tension right off his wide shoulders as you whispered against his lips that you’d love him even if he confessed to eating your leftovers (he had).

It’s not perfect, because love isn’t, but on the nights when you’re tucked into each other beneath the blankets, fitting together like puzzle pieces as you kiss his scars, you know that this time round, you’re doing love right.

[kasagia]

Let me follow II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Fremen!soulmate! reader Summary: Na-Baron tirelessly pursues and tracks you across Arrakis. You hide in the sands of Dune as best you can, but will it be enough to escape your soulmate with whom you want nothing to do with? Warning: violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; soulmate au!; Taglist: @avidreader73 @wo-ming-bai @shara-ne @alana4610 Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part I ~•♤♤♤•~ Part III ~•♤♤♤•~

You close your eyes and hide your face in the brown scarf around your head. You listen to the sounds of the desert, the gentle sound of sand blowing in the wind, and the gerbils around you, trying to find some shade from the Arrakis' sun.

You breathe evenly and calmly, hearing the blood pulsing in the veins of the animals around you. You freeze, feeling heartbeats that are too loud and rare to belong to any of the creatures of Dune.

Your fingertips brush the sand beneath you, drawing patterns in it. You're manipulating the thick blood in their veins, and by the way you're having a hard time controlling it, you realise who your sudden guests are.

The Harkonnens.

"Did you sense something?" Your father asks while kneeling beside you. You sweep the sand with your hand, making your drawings and patterns disappear from view.

"The Harkonnens. In the southeast. At least 10 of them." You reply, poking your head out of your hiding place. You can't see anything in your line of sight, but you can clearly feel several heartbeats, unlike anything that lived on Arrakis.

"I'll tell the rest. Stay back. We need to make sure we don't have anyone following us if we want to get back to our sietch."

"He won't give up." You answer him, still staring at the desert. "Na-Baron. He will chase after me until he gets me." You don't have to tell him about it. He knows as well as you do that the Harkonnen's patrols have become more frequent and that you have had to escape from them faster than usual.

Na-Baron was looking for you. He made no secret of it. You know from your scouts that he himself commanded one of the units, moving through your territory like a snake, avoiding your ambushes, and entering your sietchs, leaving behind only ashes, ruins, and a sea of blood.

"He will never..."

"Are you so sure?" You interrupt him, scolding him for still clinging to false hope.

One day he will finally get you; the only question was how long it would take you to run away from him again after he catches you. And how long will you be able to enjoy freedom again in the sands of Dune.

"I… really would like to believe that I am." Your father admits it with sadness. You both turn towards the vast sands before you.

The sun burns down on you, making your body sweat more and more. The droplets flow into the tank in the suit. This is your only consolation. At least you're not wasting your water on your run.

"You don't have to protect me. I know Arrakis; I have my power. I can run away as long as I want." You say, glancing briefly at your father.

Now that the threat from the Harkonnens is even more real, you'd rather keep him away from it all. You wouldn't want them to capture him and use him as leverage against you. You didn't want him to get hurt because of you. Or anyone.

"You can run as lons as you are able to." He corrects you and pushes you back towards the rest of the group. You sigh, obediently following him. "And I want to make sure that you... are ready for what is waiting for you at the end of this race."

"Race with fate or time?" You ask him skeptically. You reach for your powers and try to refocus on the location of the Harkonnen group. Their hearts beat faster. You unconsciously wonder if Na-Baron is with them this time...

"You should try to get some sleep." Your father helps you to get on the sandworm you had previously put into a coma. You wait patiently until the entire group gets on the creature and wakes it up. Sand hits your face as the animals start to move and cross the desert.

"I... I have to be aware of our surroundings." You answer evasively, sensing Harkonnens. They were far behind you. For now.

"You can't be like that all the time. Go to sleep. I will take care of everything." Your father assures you and places a kiss on your temple.

You sigh, closing your eyes. You hadn't slept soundly for several nights, too afraid that you would meet Na-Baron in your dreams. If you did nap, it was only during the day and only for a few hours—at times when he couldn't contact you through dreams. You wonder if Reverend Mother could help you block this… connection between you two. But before you travel north, you must first hide out for a few weeks in the safe corridors of your sietch.

Maybe you'll manage to lose the Na-Baron who chased you so tirelessly. You were curious if the stars would show you such a great blessing.

"Thank you, father." You reply with a small smile, deciding to follow your father's wishes and try to take a nap.

So you snuggle up in an unfolded blanket and place yourself on the sandworm's back, allowing the walls of your makeshift shelter to keep you on the back of the rushing creature. The sound of the sand blowing through the air and the heartbeat of other people on it lulls you to sleep.

But as Na-Baron promised, you will soon find that there is no escape from him.

Even during the day.

There is blood around you. A lot of blood. It's pouring through holes in one of your hiding places' corridors. You cover your nose with your elbow and walk forward, your shoes soaked in the crimson liquid as you walk forward towards the exit. The blood reaches your knees when HE stands in your way.

"What is this?" You ask him, letting a drop of blood fall from the ceiling onto your lips as you move your elbow away from your face. The smell of blood fills your nostrils. But you can't hear any other heartbeats than yours and Na-Baron's.

"The future—if you keep running away. I must admit that each time it takes me a while to track you, but eventually you will make a mistake. And I will patiently wait for that to happen." You shiver, hearing his low growl close to you.

He acted so casually, as if there wasn't crimson blood dripping from the ceiling on you. He was too sure that his plan would come true. You wanted to tear away this overconfidence from him.

"And how can you be so sure of that? After all, you didn't even get a chance to take a few glimpses at me these past few days. How is your leg, by the way? I hope it hurts just as much as you hurt my people in your… prison." You scoff, not considering this small, cramped cell in the Harkonnen's stronghold as a real prison. It was a place of carnage, filled with death, the stench of blood, fear, and the helplessness of your people. And behind it all was your own soulmate…

"I'm very glad you are concerned about my well-being, darling. Especially since you were the one to stick a dagger into my knee. Fortunately, I have excellent healers. You'll find out about it yourself after our wedding night." You laugh mockingly at his words, shaking your head in disbelief.

How delusional he must have been to even assume that you would rather marry him than gut yourself before he even had the slightest chance to lay his little finger on you again?

"I would rather be eaten by a sandworm." You reply and push past him to leave. Feyd lets you in, inhaling your delicate scent as you walk past him. He grabs the scarf covering your head and untangles you from it. The material stays in his hands as you run away from him as far as possible.

Feyd takes a second to bury his nose in the scarf and inhale its delicate scent. He promises himself that next time he will inhale your scent directly from you—and definitely not in his dream.

He comes back to you, silently walks up to you, and hugs you from behind. He catches you by surprise and pulls you into his chest. You fight against him, struggling in his grip, but he just puts his chin on your shoulder and nuzzles his nose into your neck, not caring about your attempts to fight him.

"Are you enjoying the view?" He whispers into your ear and runs his tongue over your lobe. You shiver in his arms, and Feyd relishes every moment of how you feel in his strong grip. Like a small, trembling kitten that needs to be taken care of—taken care of by him and only him.

You acted so differently. In his dreams, you were a perfect little mouse that he could play with as he pleased, but in reality, you showed that you had a lot of rebellion in yourself to use. And while he was amazed by your cunning, thoughtfulness, and courage, it became irritating as he chased you halfway across the desert without making much progress. The itch in his pants was equally irritating.

"I'll never let you do that." You snap at him, pained to see the sight of a colonised Arrakis.

The Harkonnen's machines worked to extract the spice, and the bald men themselves... cleaned up the bodies of your men, feeding them to the sandworms. You felt sick just looking at it. And it was just a dream. You're afraid and wonder: What would be your reaction if it all happened for real?

"I'm afraid there's not much you can do. Especially from your little hiding place." He wraps his hand around your throat and squeezes it tight. You gasp in shock, struggling for air. You grab his hand and try to pull it away from your neck, but he's not strong enough for you to even make him move an inch. "Either you leave your little hiding place willingly, or I will chase you out with smoke, fire, and the blood of your people."

“Possibly…” You breathed out, wrapping your hand around the hilt of his sword. "But first you have to find me." You gasp and pull his blade from its sheath.

You swing, aiming for his exposed neck, but he anticipates your attack. He pushes you, disturbing your balance. You fall to your knees on the sands of Arrakis, breathing heavily as air finally flows freely into your throat.

However, this small moment of bliss does not last long. You roll onto your back and block his attack. Your blades clang as they meet, sweat dripping down your forehead and your heart racing, pumping adrenaline further through your system.

Na-Baron is on one knee, pressing his black steel sword at you. You shiver, feeling your muscles slowly give out, tiring as you try to push him away.

You gasp, pushing both of your blades out of each other's hands. You squeeze his neck in a tight grip, at which he does the most astounding, shocking thing—a thing that you didn't expect anyone to do in this situation.

He takes advantage of your surprise and disarms you. You growl, digging your nails into his neck and squeezing as hard as you can, cutting off any air he can get, but that seems to do no serious harm to him. You gasp as he collapses on top of you, pinning you to the sand with his full weight, and captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

There is nothing gentle about this kiss—and you don't expect it to be. You've learnt that the Harkonnens are rough, brutal, and sadistic. Their leader must therefore be far worse than they are, representative of the thoroughly disgusting nature of his people.

And though you fight and squirm, trying to break free from his grip, you can't say you don't like the way his mouth takes control of yours. You find it strange that even though you hate his insides and everything he stands for, somehow his touch, kisses, and scent still numb you in a… pleasant way.

This must be another spell of his, another trick he uses to draw you into him. You're still not sure exactly how he created this... connection between you, but you know it's definitely not natural. He may have been your soulmate, but centuries ago someone made sure you didn't feel any connection to the person you were supposed to be with.

You shiver as he caresses the skin of your wrist, where a centuries-old scar with the initials of your soulmate is visible. His initials, as it turned out.

"Tell me your name." He demands, pressing wet kisses along your jawline. You hiss at the feel of his cold, black saliva on your skin, the way it soaks into you... you can't waste any water...

You shake your head, trying to pull away from his small kisses, but that only gives him more room to manoeuvre on your skin. You can only sigh and bite your lip as he caresses you through the layers of your clothes, searching like a snake for a place he can crawl into to feel the softness of your skin.

"Your. Name. My. Desert. Rose." He growls with each press of his lips to your skin, fighting against your grip on his neck as you try to strangle him. Which proves to be a difficult task since you’re distracted by sensations he is giving you. Sensations you are ashamed of feeling. But your body can’t recognise an enemy like your mind can.

“Fuck off,” you say, glad for the little bit of control you still have over your body. Your lower half inevitably responds to his demands, growing wet and desperate for his touch. It takes all of your control not to join in his fun and grind against his thigh in time with the way he rubs the growing bulge in his pants against you.

"Oh, I will. As soon as I get my hands on you, I will." He growls against your neck with every last bit of air he has.

You shudder as his teeth sink into your flesh; he groans as if he's just tasted the finest, blood-red wine. The fingers of his hand dig painfully into your hips as he grinds against your core. You bite your lip, barely holding back a moan as you feel his hard length.

"I will find you. I will find you and fuck you until you forget you hate me. You will cry with pleasure, scream, and beg for more. I will turn you into my perfect, obedient whore, my desert rose. I will claim you as I claim Arrakis and your people. You will be a beautiful embodiment of my power—my pretty little prize." He growls against your skin, slowly removing your top layer of clothing. Your body shivers; goosebumps rise on your skin with each gentle brush of his fingertips.

You move your hand to the back of his head, digging your nails into the pale skin. He hisses, sucking a hickey on your neck, unaware that you've stolen his dagger…

You feel him freeze as you drive the dagger straight through his neck. Black blood drips down onto you, running along your collarbone and soaking into the fabric of your bra.

"You… will be mine…" He growls with his last strength, spitting blood at you as the connection between you closes. And you fall into the black void of dreamless sleep. A void where you deeply ponder what you've seen.

~•♤♤♤•~ A month later... ~•♤♤♤•~

You stroll through the marketplace, your nose buried in your black scarf. You discreetly observe the Harkonnen soldiers patrolling the area as you push through the sea of people to get to the waterskin stand.

Some women give you a sympathetic look, seeing your "mourning" attire; others try to look away. You mentally praise yourself for choosing your cover. It wasn't so easy to get a widow's black outfit, but it was worth the effort. The Harkonnens, despite their reputation for great brutality, didn't touch widows and didn't talk to them; they weren't the object of any interest or suspicion. It was strange that in all their brutality, lack of morality, and so on, they respected the period of mourning, especially for women.

You had been on the run from Feyd for a month now. During that time, you had separated yourself from your father and your group so that you could at least protect them from the wrath of the furious Harkonnen who was searching for you.

Although you must admit that the chase after you has slowed considerably in the last few days. You suspect that this had something to do with the baron's arrival on Arrakis. And his... unexpected death.

Yes. Feyd-Rautha became the new baron. You suspected that was why his men had been searching for you so intensely. However, to your great disappointment, he did not leave to Giedi Prime but remained on Arrakis.

You had thought long and hard about the reason, Na-Baron... Baron had decided he had to have you. Sure, you were his soulmate, but why had he decided now that he wanted you on his side? What did you have to offer him that made him willing to slaughter all of your men, destroy Dune, and devote practically all of his soldiers to finding you? There had to be something to it.

Your soulmate mark was the same enigma. There must have been a reason someone decided to cut out your skin with Harkonnen's initials tattooed on it, leaving you with only a faint scar.

You buy water, straining your ears to listen to the rumours carried by the Fremen whispering around you. Everyone was talking about only one thing.

A possible attack by Muad'Dib on the Emperor, his daughter, and the new Baron. These three had gathered recently on Arrrakis to discuss some of their business. Perhaps the main topic of their conversations was the new messiah of your people—the one they had spoken of for centuries, the one who would bring heaven to the sons and daughters of the desert.

You had only seen Muad'Dib once. And you preferred to keep it that way. You didn't read his eyes well. Instead of the expected messiah, you saw a coldly calculating man hungry for power, willing to do anything to avenge those who had brought ruin to his house. Paulk Atreides might have been less of a threat to your people than the Harkonnens, but he was still a threat. Especially his Bene Gesserit mother, who had become the reverend mother. And even more so the child in her womb.

The Harkonnens brought destruction and death. But in your visions (on those nights when you didn't dream of your soulmate/nemesis), you saw Paul Atreides pouring a sea of blood onto Arrakis, which seeped into every tiny sand of Dune.

Neither of them were good choices for your people.

You flinch as a hand lands on your shoulder. You peek out from behind your veil and meet Stilgar's stern gaze.

"What you are doing right now is a profanation." He snorts at you, leading you through the crowd of people and away from the watchful eyes of the Harkonnen soldiers.

"At least I don't attract as much attention as I would without this outfit."

"Let's get out of here. Muad'dib will arrive soon. You'll see, he'll do everything right." He assures you as he leads you out of the market. You shiver as you feel the eyes of passersby on you.

You stumbled upon Stilgar a week ago by accident while travelling to the main city. Your original (crazy) plan was to sneak into the landing site and grab one of the less guarded ships. And a pilot of some sort. It's not like you've had a chance to learn how to fly those weird metal contraptions.

However, your plans changed after your conversation with him. He planned a coup with Muad'dib to get rid of the Harkonnens from the lands of Arrakis once and for all. And your... extraordinary abilities were not unknown to him. You were to help in overpowering the troops so that their messiah could get to the council chamber with his men.

It was supposed to be a quick and short action.

So of course it wasn't like that at all...

You manipulate the blood of the guards, quickly and silently stopping the Harkonnen hearts. Stilgar and Muad'dib and their men follow you through the fortress corridors. You stop only in the council chamber, where the Emperor and the new Baron of Giedi Prime were supposed to be.

But there is no one in the room.

A moment later, Harkonnen troops surround you. You reach out to use your powers, but the moment you try to manipulate the blood in the Harkonnen veins, an unimaginable wave of pain passes through you. You kneel, clutching your stomach, and take a few quick breaths, looking around the room. Your gaze falls on an old Bene Geserit, who is whispering something under her breath, playing with a stone in her hand—a moonstone.

As you writhe in pain on the floor, you are oblivious to everything around you. You feel like every fibre of your body has been burned by the sun, but there is nothing you can do to end your agony.

"One more move, and I will kill her!" Muad'dib screams, pulling you roughly by the hair and pressing his blade to your throat.

Bloody tears begin to flow from your eyes. All you can see is red, your lungs burn, and your breathing becomes too ragged for you to make any kind of threat. Besides, in this state, you have a pretty low level of intimidation.

"Put it down, Atreides... before you do something you will regret." You shiver as you recognise the voice of your soulmate.

"Then let us pass, and maybe I'll spare your bloody witch."

You knew that if they didn't come to an agreement, there would be a real massacre here. And maybe the Fremen seemed to be in a weaker position now, but everyone knew perfectly well that one of their warriors was worth six Harkonnens. But neither side could be sure of victory. After all, it happened more than once that the outcome of the battle was unexpected by both sides.

"You know this is non-negotiable. You're in no position to make demands on me… and she's not worth this much trouble."

"Is that why you chased her across half of Arrakis with your men?"

"It was while we were conquering more territories. I never said that this expedition was specifically dedicated to finding her. As far as I'm concerned, you can cut her sweet throat. My only regret will be that I wasn't the one holding the blade that would inflict her final wound." The man behind you tenses, his grip on your hair tightening in anger and the dagger at your throat twitching dangerously, causing a trickle of blood to leak from the small wound he’d inflicted on you.

"One word from me, and the Atreides' explosives around the spice mines will be destroyed. Including those around the stronghold. I may not get out of this unscathed, but I will drag you all with me to my grave."

"You're bluffing." The Emperor replies coldly, but you can sense the underlying fear in his tone. You didn't know Paul Atreides, but from the rumours about Muad'dib, you could tell he was unpredictable. He could lie just as easily as he could tell the truth. You don't know which was worse.

"Let her go and face me if you want to accomplish anything. As you said earlier: Enough blood has been spilt."

"Since when do you dislike bloodshed?" You can actually see the mocking smile on Muad'dib's face without even having to turn to face him.

"Since I'm not the one who's having the most fun with it." The silence and tension in the room become more noticeable to you than the searing pain in your insides. The tears have stopped falling from your eyes, but it still hurts to breathe. However, you've gotten used to the pain enough that your vision returns, and the blurs in front of you become real people. "Let's finally put an end to this. One-on-one. Winner takes all." The growl of your soulmate sends a cold shiver down your spine.

You weren't quite ready for what was to come, and though you saw flashes of visions of this duel, the outcome never presented itself to you. However, you felt that after this, nothing would ever be the same.

"Rautha..." The Emperor begins with a warning, but before he can finish his sentence and express his concerns, Atreides speaks first:

"I accept."

These two face each other, just like in your dream. Both prepare for battle and present their blades to the other with a mocking "May your knife chip and shatter." The fight begins; both of them deal equal blows to each other, but after a while you realise that it is not Harkonnen who emerges victorious.

The visions you had start to replay before your eyes. You know perfectly well that if you don't react, Feyd will die. And while you liked the idea before, now the thought makes you feel sick, and the pain in your chest only increases.

Suddenly, the sounds around you stop reaching you; all you can hear are the whispers of the Reverend Mother. And suddenly, before you know it, your soulmate scar opens up and begins to bleed. Only your blood isn't red—it's black. You bite your lip to hold back a scream and feel SOMEONE reach for your powers. You are forced to direct the blood in Harkonnen's body and stop the bleeding from the Atreides blade.

This gives Harkonnen enough time to launch a counterattack and deal the final blow to the Atreides.

You gasp in shock, unable to explain why your powers went out of control. Or why blood suddenly began to gush from your wrist. But before you lose consciousness and slump to the floor, you see the dead body of Muad'dib fall to the floor next to you.

As you expected, you wake up chained to a bed with a muzzle in your mouth. You try to break free from your bonds, but it's futile. All you manage to do is shake your chains and make a noise that attracts the attention of the bald Harkonnen's servants.

Five women surround you, trying to keep you in place. You scream and struggle, trying to push their hands away from you as the door swings open with a loud bang.

They freeze the moment Baron Feyd-Rautha enters the room.

He barks a few words at them in their language and waits for them to move away from you. You shiver as you are left alone in the room with him, completely at his mercy and whims. He takes a few slow steps towards you, watching you closely.

"I knew you'd look beautiful chained to the bed." He says teasingly and strokes your cheek with his ring finger.

You tremble under his watchful gaze, your heart beating like crazy, but when you reach for your powers to use them, you feel blocked. You hold your breath in shock as he continues to draw patterns on your cheek, moving lazily to your neck.

"Surprised? I'm a patient man. Very patient. As soon as I heard about your little special ability, I had to find out the source of it… and learn exactly how to control it so you wouldn't rip my heart out of my chest the moment we will be finally alone."

His hand slides down to your chest. You sigh as he cups your breast in his hand, massaging it slowly, digging his fingers into it. You hiss, but no sound comes through the gag. Harkonnen hums, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning closer to you as he continues to abuse your breast through the material of the new clothes you don’t recognise and the blanket you’re covered in.

"Hmm… I think I'd rather hear those little sounds of yours." He says thoughtfully and leans towards you. His nose brushes against yours as you lie frozen beneath him. "And kiss those sinful, irritating lips."

Before you can react, he presses the dagger to your cheek. You shiver as the cold steel grazes your heated skin. Harkonnen takes his time. He plays with you, drawing patterns into your skin, drinking in every hitch in your breath, the quickening movement of your chest, and the look in your eyes as you give him one of your furious ones.

"It's amazing how even after having all your fangs pulled out, you don't lose your ferocity, my little, wild, dessert rose." He cuts your muzzle and removes it from you. You grunt and cough, feeling your throat become terribly dry, almost as dry as it was on Arrakis during the worst sandstorms.

He places a few pillows behind your back, moves you into a sitting position, and holds a glass of water to your lips. You have no choice but to drink, hoping that he doesn't intend to poison you since he went through so much time and effort to find and trap you.

His intense gaze pierces through you, and you wonder what is more uncomfortable—the chains around your wrists and ankles or his blue irises focused entirely on you.

As he places his glass on the table, you finally decide to speak to him.

"I see that I should have stabbed you harder." You growl, looking with distaste at how well he moves. His knee is practically healed.

"I see I should have tied you up tighter." He responds to your attack with equal venom.

"What did you do to me? What did your old hag do? Why don't I feel…"

"Take it easy, little warrior. You don't expect me to tell you my tricks before we get home, do you?" The blood is boiling in your veins. You have an irresistible urge to slow down his heartbeat and make him faint and hit his head on the floor, or better yet, some metal rod, but you don't feel anything. You can't manipulate the blood; you can't feel the hearts beating around you. And you feel so damn defenceless because of it.

"I am at home." You growl angrily, trying your best to fight back the tears that were dangerously starting to form in your eyes.

"No, you're not. Your home is where I am. Which is currently Giedi Prime. We'll land there in two days." You stiffen when you hear this. The knowledge that you're leaving Arrakis and that you'll likely never see your friends and father again hits you like a slap in the face.

"What do you think gives you the fucking right to…"

"As your husband and soulmate, I have the right to certain things." Now you freeze completely at his words. Husband? What the hell? What husband?

"What the fuck?"

"Language." He hisses at you and sits down next to you. He gently smooths your hair, and you catch the glint of a black wedding band on his finger. He smiles when he notices you see his newest piece of jewelry. "We'll have to work on that. Since you're a Baroness, a certain degree of… courtesy and manners is expected of you. But don't worry. I'll make sure you learn the skills you need quickly."

"I'm not your damn wife. Or your soulmate."

"Look at your left hand, my darling."

You reluctantly do as he tells you. You gasp in shock when you see that instead of the familiar scar, you have a black tattoo of his initials. And a huge ring on your ring finger. A matching ring to the one Harkonnen wore now.

"How..."

"A Bene Gesserit sister restored the link between our souls that you so brazenly severed. As a child, I believe. Tell me, were you that afraid of me, my love? Did you never even think for a moment that maybe you should get to know me before you try to destroy such a sacred connection?"

"You will pay for this... I swear you will." You vow to yourself and to him furiously, now only reassuring yourself that you were right about him all along.

"Two years with me, and I'll make sure you don't even think about hurting me, let alone running away from me. Besides, it'll be quite a task to run away with a baby on your breast, don't you think?" He whispers, leaning into you. You move to bite his nose, but unfortunately he pulls away before your teeth can even lightly graze his skin and chuckles darkly.

"Once I get my powers back, I'll make sure you die a long, slow death. You'll beg me to kill you." You growl through your teeth, giving him a hateful look.

He just smiles and strokes your jaw gently, treating you like you were a child who has a tantrum. You want so badly to break free from these chains and hurt him...

"Don't worry, honey. We have plenty of time to get to know each other. But let's get started, what do you think?" Before you can react, he straddles you and crushes his lips against yours.

You buck, trying to somehow throw him off balance and push him off of you, but he only tightens his grip on your arms and presses himself closer to you. His hips grind against yours, showing you all too well how lustfully he reacted to your little struggle with him.

He tangles his hand in your hair and pulls your head back, giving himself better access to your neck. He trails kisses from your lips, along your jaw, and down the column of your neck as he settles his attention on your collarbone. You bite your lip as he bites into you with a growl, much like a wolf gnawing at its prey.

"No lip-biting. I want to hear all the little sounds you make."

"Fuck off, psycho." You growl, struggling beneath him and trying to get away from him. He clicks his tongue at you and runs it along your neck, up to your ear, leaving a wet trail of saliva.

"Is that how you address your dear husband? Haven't these wild rats taught you anything?" He mocks you and pulls out his dagger. To your protests, he cuts your dress in half one swift movement, exposing your bare chest to him. You gasp, surprised when he immediately sucks onto your breast, nipping and teasing your nipple.

Your hands grip the sheets beneath you, and even though you hate him with all your heart, the sensations he's giving you are… more than pleasant. You blush as he slides between your legs and moves his mouth lower and lower.

"My beautiful soulmate and wife, I have waited for you for so long." He mumbles against your skin, brushing his plush soft lips against your breast. You clench your thighs, wanting to block his access to you, but it only stops him for a moment.

In one powerful movement, he spreads your legs and buries his head between your thighs. You cry out as he brutally sinks his teeth into your thigh, marking you and drawing your blood. He licks his lips with a groan, as if it were the sweetest nectar he'd ever tasted, and runs a finger over that new, sensitive wound, spreading your blood up your thigh and all the way up to where you were shamefully wet for him.

These sensations are even more intense than when you were dreaming. You don't know if it's because you now realise that this isn't just a dream and that he poses a real threat to you. You also feel... overwhelmed by emotions. Your desire is much greater, and for a moment it seems to you that your emotions are no longer really just yours...

You sigh as his tongue teases your soaked folds. You try to crush his head between your thighs, but that only seems to encourage him more. You moan as you feel his tongue reach parts of you that you didn’t think he could explore in this position.

Suddenly your hands are free. You pretend not to notice as he undoes the handcuffs on your hands. Your brain works at an incredible speed as you think about what you should do in this situation. Without your powers and weapons, you could do very little, chained to the bed.

He clearly wanted you to give yourself to him, to feel what he felt for you. You could play that game for a while—just until you got your powers back. Then maybe you could somehow escape from him again...

So instead of trying to strangle him, you dig your nails into the back of his head, pulling him closer to you with a soft moan.

He groans at the feeling of your hands on his head. He strokes your hips with his thumbs, drawing meaningless patterns. At least for you. Feyd unconsciously 'writes' various words in his language on your skin. Mainly: mine, wife, baroness, darling, etc.

He mumbles words against your cunt that you can't make out, but from the way he takes ragged breaths and grinds against the mattress beneath him, he's probably whispering hoarse curses in his native language.

You are so close to the edge that you no longer care who is between your legs. Well, at least as long as you are about to reach your blissful pleasure.

His fingers caress your aching core, teasing you as he gently slides the pad of his finger into your very empty pussy. But just as you’re about to reach your release, he pulls away from you, a wicked smirk on his lips as he does so.

"Delicious. Perhaps if you learn to respect your new husband, we can both enjoy this, my darling." He gets up from the bed. He licks his fingers, groaning in appreciation as he watches you closely.

You gasp, sweat dripping down your face as you try to understand why the hell you feel, in addition to immense frustration and anger, also... satisfaction and pride. You blink a few times, catching your breath as you look at him suspiciously.

"You'll see, I'll turn you into my beloved little wife…" He speaks in his native language, gently stroking your cheek and playing with your hair. You frown, unable to understand what he's saying.

You gasp as he suddenly turns and walks towards the entrance.

"Wait! You can't just leave me here like that!"

"Rethink your behaviour, honey. A good wife doesn't call her husband a psychopath. I'll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams, Y/N." You scream after him, throwing a pillow at him, but instead of hitting him, it bounces off the closed door behind him.

You groan in frustration, both at the loss of your orgasm and the fact that your ankles are still chained to the bed and you can't even go and grab a blanket to cover yourself with.

As you lie there, you wonder how you ended up here. He admitted to researching you, but how on earth did he manage to block your power? And why did your soulmate mark become a black tattoo again? What gave him the right to marry you when you were unconscious? And how the hell did he find out your name?

You realise you've grossly underestimated him. And now you have to pay the price. You sigh, closing your eyes and listening to your surroundings. The ring on your finger is a stark reminder of your defeat. Luckily, the war has only just begun. And this time, you'll play your cards a lot better.

[noddytheornithopod]

These latest episodes of Andor made me angry.

Not because they're bad, far from it, they were great.

But because I know so many will watch this, and then ignore the exact same thing happening right now in Palestine.

The stuff on Ghorman was written before the current genocide in Gaza, but the parallels I could see watching this were frightening to me.

The way everyone was slaughtered like animals.

The way the media manufactures consent for the genocide, to the point where they focus on how those horrible terrorists murdered poor Imperials.

The way before then they were blockaded and starved.

The way imperial powers will stop at nothing, willing to burn the entire place to the ground to get what they want.

The way they're willing to transfer an ENTIRE POPULATION away for their agenda.

People I bet like to think they're Mon Mothma, courageously speaking up against oppression and making a stand. But in reality, they're like Eedy Karn or one of those bootlicking senators crying over dead Imperials.

Knowing that so many people will watch this, see what's happening, and not realising it's happening RIGHT NOW before their own eyes sickens me. Israel literally announced it intends to fully ethnically cleanse Gaza, right as they're starving the population.

And all of us in Western countries are sitting back, having it all beamed to us on our screens and our newspapers, as our leaders look the other way at best, and condone this genocide at worst.

People would rather tune out, or look at it as some far away war that doesn't affect them, or outright support the occupiers because they're supposedly more "civilised".

Palestine just comes to mind because I have never seen somewhere in Western society where the truth just doesn't even matter to most people. It's like the powers that be are forcing us into a false reality for their narrative to make sense.

A key part of Mon Mothma's speech denouncing Palpatine talked about how important the truth is. It is often said that truth is the first casualty in war. The same applies to manufactured consent for a genocide. Ghorman wasn't a war, it was a slaughter. Just like Palestine.

We can all do so much better than we are now. Even as governments are cracking down on protestors supporting Palestine, even as Greta Thunberg was almost shot by fucking drones for trying to go to assist Gaza on the Freedom Flotilla.

I wish I had the answers, but I don't. I'm just a tired nerd on the internet yelling hoping someone cares, wishing he could do more.

Listen to and boost Palestinian voices.

Keep protesting.

Keep giving politicians, media and other public figures complicit absolute hell.

No, seriously. Palestinian people are the people you should be going to and listening to. I can voice my support for them, but they are ones that need to be heard. They are ones we should be heeding. They are the ones we need to support.

So, if any Star Wars fans are with me, all I say is this: what you are watching on your screen is happening right now in real life.

If you have any shred of dignity, please speak out and make noise about this.

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

The farmer is a pretty heavy sleeper if even a meteor landing on their farm won't get them up before 6am but what about their spouse? How would they all (sve included if you'd like) react to not only a whole space rock hitting the farm but the farmer reacting with nothin more than a sleepy "oh was probably just a meteor... I'll check that in the mornin."

I had a lot of fun with this scenario, really liked the idea itself. Thank you so much for the ask, and enjoy! 💕

_________________________________________

SDV/SVE bachelors:

Sam said quietly, "Oh, okay," and laid his head back on the pillow, falling asleep again. When morning came, the young guitarist would consider his vague recollection of this conversation a dream. What will be his surprise when he sees an actual meteorite lying not far from their house. "Babe, that could have ended badly..." "No worries, Sammy, but if you want, we'll check it out next time." ...Next time?????

"Did you hear that?!" "Relax, dear, it's just a meteorite..." "Ah, alright... It's a WHAT?!" And the slogan of this Harvey's headcanon: "A meteorite is the best alarm clock! You'll wake up right away!" Although in Farmer's case - they woke up to a fuss made by their worried husband. But you can understand the Pelican Town doctor, too - a bloody piece of cosmic rock fell right into your yard, it's hard to stay calm.

Elliott literally fell out of bed from such a loud sound outside the window, and Farmer continued to snore quietly??? The writer was so confused, he didn't know if he should wake up Farmer or not. "Mmmm... Did'a meteorit fal' again... I'll deal with it tmorrw... 💤" Farmer mumbled, leaving Elliott even more confused. Meteorite? Wha- again? They mean... it's happened before and it's going to happen again?! What is happening?!

"Hon, what the fuck." At first Shane's reaction to Farmer's words wasn't too violent, because he's still sleepy. But after a couple of seconds the meaning of the words reached him, the gyrus in his brain started working and he shrieked: "The coop! Charlie!" The realisation that the animals might have been hit by the meteorite instantly brought Farmer to their feet.

No matter how hard Alex tried - his spouse slept like a dead man, muttering that they would check the source of the noise tomorrow. What do they mean, tomorrow?! They need to check it now! Alex can't just leave it alone, so he goes to check it out, with or without Farmer. Whoa, a real meteorite... Erm, shouldn't they tell Lewis or someone about this?

Meteorite or not, Sebastian remained surprisingly calm. He gave up trying to wake Farmer and went to the window to see what was out there. They were right - it was in fact a meteorite, a real one. And there's light coming from it. So cool. "Sure you don't want to come with me, dear?" Farmer mumbled something incomprehensible in response, and the emo decided to go alone, to look at the cool sky rock. Because why not.

Lance sensed something was wrong before the meteorite touched the ground. Fortunately, the far-sighted gallant adventurer had put up a magical barrier that prevented the space rock from crashing into his and Farmer's house or barns. The meteorite had fallen, all was well. "I take it this phenomenon is not new to you?" He smiled as his spouse mumbled "tomorrow..." in their sleep. Well then, they both can look at the meteorite later.

"Razor!" Magnus jumped up sharply from the bed, casting the spell on automatic. The trajectory of the falling meteorite was reversed, and the celestial stone plummeted into the water, no longer posing a danger to the forest. "Farmer, meteorite." "Mhmm, five more minutes.... I'll look at the meteorite tomorrow...." Magnus wondered how his dearest spouse could even survive as an adventurer with no sense of self-preservation. It's a damn meteorite!

A whole palette of emotions was bubbling up inside Victor, awake from the noise. What was that! A meteorite? A real one! It's probably incredibly hot right now, he shouldn't go near it.... But it's a meteorite! It's so scary, and so interesting! Farmer, don't hide your head under the pillow, but get a flashlight. Victor's taking them out to see the space rock! Well, and make sure everything's okay and no animals are hurt, too.

SDV/SVE bachelorettes:

A meteorite?! A real rock of cosmic origin fell right on the farm? Maru immediately jumps out of bed and wakes up Farmer. It's unclear, however, whether this reaction of hers is simple worry about putting out the fire from the meteorite fall or that the young inventor is thrilled that she and her spouse will see the meteorite up close! Probably both. Either way, Farmer won't sleep well tonight...

"What makes you think it's a meteorite? Maybe it's aliens? Oh, that's so cool! Get up quick or we'll miss the whole thing! And grab a sword, just in case." The force with which Abigail was prancing poor Farmer made them realise at once that their wife was not going to let them finish their beauty sleep. Unlikely aliens in there, but they'd have to check anyway. Ugh...

Poor Penny is in complete shock at how calmly Farmer has reacted to everything. Don't they care what happens to the farm? What if what fell down caused a fire and everything could burn? There's a forest nearby, it would be a huge fire! Penny tearfully begged her sleepy spouse to check it out before it's too late. Farmer had to get up (they hate to see their lovely wife crying).

"Did you hear that, Farmer?" "Yep, meteorite hit again, I'll look tomorrow..." Leah can already see the fire that has travelled from the glowing space rock to the dry summer grass. Oh no, there's going to be a fire now... She wakes Farmer up with one mighty shove and shouts an emergency. And as much as Farmer grumbled over their interrupted sleep - the artist was right. A forest fire is a very dangerous.☝️

The sound of a meteorite falling may not have been able to wake Farmer, but the shriek of terror of their wife Haley sure knocked them out of dreamland. "Shh, Haley, it's only a meteorite..." JUST A METEORITE?! Is Farmer laughing at her? Oh no, they can't go back to the dream realm now - Haley wakes them up again and tells them to look at that fallen meteorite before something else happens. Haley's half asleep herself, but she's scared, so she'll insist on checking it out now.

Before going to bed, Emily read a daily horoscope in a magazine that she would soon "be given a big sign, so make your decision at once." Nowhere, however, did it say that this "sign" was a huge rock from the sky. But at least she made the decision right away, (and the right one) - getting Farmer out if bed, despite their protests, to make sure the falling meteorite didn't destroy anything. No "tomorrow", it had to be now. She hopes no animals were! Her heart couldn't take it...

Claire jumped up in bed, as if scalded by boiling water, at the rattling of window glass and the vibrations throughout the house. Something had fallen on the farm - and that 'something' is very big. She woke and woke her spouse to no avail, who only responded to the terrifying sound with a louder snore. How did they even manage not to wake up from such a noise? And how could they mumbling so calmly about the meteorite?!

Poor Sophia, frightened by a scary sound outside , immediately pressed herself against Farmer, trying to hide. Farmer kissed her gently and told her that it was just a meteorite, that everything was fine and they would protect her. After saying "it's okay" and "I will protect you" the panic inside Sophia was extinguished and she fell asleep again in the arms of her spouse. The meteorite in the morning would definitely be a shock to her (she thought she had dreamed the whole thing).

After that horrible sound, Olivia not only wakes Farmer up, but also gets almost half the town up, making one call to Lewis and claiming that something terrible has happened on her and Farmer's property. Farmer sleepily tried to convince Olivia that a fallen meteorite was no big deal, but she wasn't convinced. How is that - a huge, dangerous rock from outer space - and not dangerous!

[justakidicarus]

Alastor has something he fears.

With how modern media has been going, well written characters are harder to come by, so I am very pleased to see how Alastor is written in the season 1 finale of Hazbin Hotel. Admittedly I did not watch the episode in full, but two major scenes are what I want to talk about.

Adam vs Alastor, and what I want to call Alastor’s interlude (his verse in the final song).

During Alastor’s fight with Adam, Alastor has clear technical advantage, but Adam’s sheer firepower overpowers him. Everyone has probably seen the “What just happened?? … Fuck.” Moment. Now most writers would write another character coming in for a save, or in the context of Hazbin a regular sinner would keep fighting.

Alastor is not your average sinner.

He accepts his defeat and slinks away before Adam can land the finishing blow. This is actually a massive thing no one really talks about, the fact that instead of staying to fight Alastor acknowledged when he was bested and left to fight another day. He is a fucking smart guy but this moment, when he chooses to lose rather than die, is super important to his character, and becomes clear in Alastor’s interlude.

Alastor is terrified of dying.

And I really do mean terrified.

Throughout the song you can hear the emotion in his voice (holy shit did Amir Talai do a good job). His facial expressions are panicked, especially during the line “died for his friends” and the close up at “The constraints of my deal surely have a back door,” that line in particular really capturing the picture of panic and terror. When he first speaks of dying, he looks more angry, but the rest of the verse he just looks terrified. Even if he may be a sinner and thus, has already experienced death, it remains his greatest fear as evident by his reaction to nearly meeting it.

Which makes sense when you look at the context of his death.

Alastor was shot in the head while occupied with burying a body in a hunting reserve. A gunshot to the brain is a quick and near instant way to die, especially since he likely wasn’t aware of the hunter and gun. To him, he heard a loud bang and was suddenly in hell. He has never experienced death properly because he didn’t even have a moment to process that his time was up until he was in the afterlife. Even in the afterlife, as a sinner he can’t permanently die, the only way possible is being killed by angelic weapons.

Weapons like what Adam wields.

Most people believe that Alastor retreated when his staff broke because he couldn’t fight without it, but I actually believe it’s because he realised that Adam could actually kill him. For the first time in his entire life, and afterlife, Alastor was faced with the possibility that he would die. For good.

And he was terrified of it.

He fled not because he couldn’t continue to fight, but because he was scared of fighting Adam and running the suddenly very real risk of dying, but hiding it as best he could. This is obviously made easier by his constantly smiling mouth (which I don’t think he can stop doing if you look at the stitched from his deal with Charlie) but there are a few signs. He loses control of his power such as his left eye and shadow. His ears tilt back as he’s getting up, a sign of distress in animals, and when he first gets up he looks around alert despite knowing the threat is in front of him, classic prey animal behaviour. Not to mention there’s almost 10 seconds where he doesn’t get up and is just on the ground with his face obscured while Vox gives his declaration. These behaviours could be pain related, he does have internal and external bleeding from Adam’s attack after all, or it could be fear based. Still, his interlude leads me to believe it’s a mix instead of solely the former.

Finally his sudden dedication to finding a loophole in his deal with his unknown contractor (I’m hesitant to say Lilith but idk).

From what I can gather by his actions surrounding the hotel and his strange dedication to Charlie and the hotel’s wellbeing, I’m inclined the believe his deal centers around protecting Charlie and the hotel. A deal he now desperately wants out of. It’s no secret that Alastor hates being on a leash (Husker found that out the hard way) but how the fuck did he even end up on one in the first place if he hates it so much?

Simple, he didn’t see it as a bad idea at the time. That or he could have died without it but we don’t know that yet

If what he got in return was a good deal of power or something else he coveted, why wouldn’t he take the deal to play secret bodyguard and watcher for the princess of hell, one of the most well guarded people in hell, and her lofty idea that ultimately will fail and likely gain no traction at all? It’s practically free power.

And then Charlie starts pissing off all of heaven. And dragging her father and whole host of powerful and dangerous beings into her charade.

Now this is becoming a bad idea he can’t back out from.

And then he almost dies.

Why would the try to escape his deal? Alastor values his life above all else and his greatest fear that I think he now knows about, is the fear of death itself, a suddenly very real risk with the people Charlie, the person he’s forced to protect, is angering. Alastor wants out because of that sheer human thing that is the fear of death.

That’s why it’s such great writing.

Alastor is scared of death and that is what makes him human.

It’s a part of his character he can overcome or fall victim to, something that makes his character relatable and 3D rather than a distant mask. It’s something that makes him human, and that’s especially important in a character that was once just that.

No matter where Alastor’s character goes in the future, if he overcomes this fear and is somehow redeemed (plausible in the way the show is going), or if he is a villain for a future season brewing in the shadows, still driven by this fear that is so central to his actions (again, plausible with how the show is so far, he still had a villain moment after all even if it was a humanising one), Alastor’s character has actually gained so much depth, and all from one little scene sharing one shard of humanity he has left.

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers: Character Interviews (Kant/Bison Focus)

So this proved to be super interesting. Let us see what can be gleaned from these brief little interview segments with Kant and Bison.

Immediately, I'm struck by how serious and stoic Kant comes across. He has a very mature aura, and is quite hard to read (which I guess is a plus considering what he gets up to). I didn't expect this, based on how flirty and forward he appeared to be in the trailer, and that makes me wonder if it's all part of a persona he's playing. Or whether the real Kant is in fact more measured and introspective, and Bison just brings out his playful side?

A notable trait that gets signposted repeatedly is Kant's care for his brother Babe. I believe Khao has made a similar comment about him being family-oriented. It makes a tonne of sense to me as to why Bison would be drawn to a 'family man'; someone who has strong family values, when Bison's essentially been rejected by his own.

"My goal in life is to make sure my brother grows up into a good man. I want to make sure he doesn't feel like he's lacking anything. We're all we've got right now." "I just live day by day, just keeping with my goal which is making sure my brother grows up well." This is so telling of Kant's mentality. Not only does it suggest that Kant is a stand-in parent of sorts, but that he doesn't live for himself. (Which could be something of a parallel to Bison - who is unable to live by his own rules). His goals centre entirely on his loved ones' needs being met and supporting them. This definitely gives provider with self-sacrificing tendencies.

"I feel like my goal is just to make sure my loved ones get to live their dreams. For now, I just want my brother to have a good life. But one day, if someone comes into my life and I love them, my goal would be to make sure they get to achieve their dreams." And yet another selfless, touching sentiment. The desire to aid your loved ones to actualise their dreams, possibly before or over your own. I expect Kant will be a very doting, nurturing soul. (Lucky Bison).

I wonder if Kant and Fadel will empathise with one another over their respective little brothers, and the sense of responsibility that comes with it. Bonding opportunity perhaps?

The most mysterious thing Kant says is "One more thing I'm not a big fan of is the beach." (The reason is personal). Curious. First has specifically talked about filming on the beach, where they were able to do a lot more improv. Any speculations on the above are wide open.

Now let's move onto our resident Murder Kitten. I've always said that Bison reads as a real sweetie-pie based on everything we've seen thus far. He's very animated and expressive. Khao very deliberately uses a softer, lighter vocal register as Bison, which just accentuates this cute, darling image. A real child at heart who wants to make up for a life he didn't get to lead. "I go out, I'm just trying to live outside the burger shop." His childhood dream about seeing the northern lights is just another example of a boy who has daydreamed of escape, and welcomes any excuse to be as far away from his actual life as possible. He also mentions being fond of a stray cat who resides near their burger bar, who he enjoys feeding and playing with. This precious boy, I cant. (Note: I need to have scenes of this in the show PURR-LEASE).

Everything about Bison as a person feels at odds with his violent lifestyle, which seems to be a central conflict in Bison's character arc. It does beg the question of what if Bison had never been adopted, what kind of life would he be living instead? And I think this drives Kant's desire to fight for Bison's chance at a new start. A boy with big dreams meets a man who wants to realise them. What a match.

Another comment we've heard before in the pilot is "I also don't like liars", no doubt foreshadowing the fallout when he finds out Kant did exactly that. I do think it's likely that whatever drives Kant to take the detective job has reasons to do with his own brother. He may wish to clear his record of anything untoward for his brother's sake. Based on this premise, when Bison does find out why Kant did what he did, I think that will help soothe any hard feelings.

On a side note - I've seen a comment mention that Kant apparently calls Bison 'kitten' in the novel. ERM HULLO?!! I will allow one spoiler, and that is whether this is true or not. And if so, I DEMAND that it is a featured pet name in the show, because why on earth would you miss an opportunity like that?!

You can keep tabs on bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for other long-form posts around The Heart Killers, which I'll be updating as the show airs.

[loca4moony]

14 things I love about you

Hola! I was lacking inspiration and suddenly it came back today. This was inspired by my lonely ass thinking how much I would love to celebrate Valentine's day with somebody and this is exactly the way I am as a girlfriend. This is lots of fluff and just Barty being very loved (like he deserves to be). It also includes lots of my favourite Barty headcannons, this really is how I picture him. You're more than welcome to request fics (please do!) because sometimes I need outer sources of inspiration. I'm so sorry if I've made spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language!

Barty Crouch Jr x reader | 603 words

The one with Barty being loved like never was before.

Masterlist <3

14 things I love about you was the first thing Barty saw when he entered his room. There was a box and a jar, this last one read exactly that on its front. Once he got closer to his bed he noticed a note on top of the box. It looked like a letter so it felt right to read it first.

“Hello my love! Dragul, in the box you will find Papanasi. I really really hope they are at least as good as you remember them, but if they’re horrible I want you to know that I made them with a lot of love (I’m sorry! Let’s hope for the best). Te iubesc iubițel”

He didn’t realise the moment he started crying, but suddenly his cheeks had some tears. His eyes moved towards the jar, his hands soon following them. One by one he started opening the little green papers.

1. You try to hide your emotions, but your eyes betray you. I love that I can always see through them, they’re so honest. 

2. Your upside down smile sends butterflies to my stomach.

3. I adore your accent, nothing beats when you speak Romanian, though. I have to take a pregnancy test every. single. time. 

4. Your mismatched socks put a smile on my face.

5. I love that you chew on weird gum flavors (Who the fuck eats Dr. Pepper or Mint chip gum?).

6. The green in your hair should be illegal, it’s not fair you look so good with it AND it matches your personality so well (Don’t ask, okay? It makes sense, if you were a colour you would be green). Leave something to the rest of us!

7. I love your weird sense of humor, it makes you so unique.

8. The way eyeliner makes your eyes pop and brings structure to your face (I adore your knife-sharp face!) makes me go crazy.

9. Your hyperactive moments always make me laugh so much, how can you move and talk that fast?!

10. If there’s something I can count on, is you having a snack all the time. I love how you carry all of your loved ones’ favourite snacks, just in case they’re hungry. 

11. I fall all over again for you every time you interact with animals, you are so gentle!

12. Your snorts when you laugh and your dimples when you smile bring warmth to my chest.

13. I love how you show your love through your actions, you might not be great at saying it (even though you try and I’m really proud of you for that), but your actions speak for themselves.

14. You. I love you, who you are, what you do and how you carry yourself. 

He was speechless, nobody had ever put so much effort in showing him love. Maybe nobody had ever loved him enough, but that didn’t matter now, he had you. Overwhelmed by all the love, he decided to try the pastry. This isn’t real, he thought. It was even better than he remembered. It was like going back to Romania, but now embraced in the tightest and warmest hug ever. After two bites he decided that was enough, he had to find you. What if he looked crazy running down the halls? He couldn’t wait to love on you all night. Something was for sure, there was no way in hell he was letting you out of his arms. There would be lots of cuddles, kisses and maybe a little threat to make you say all that Romanian that you wrote, now to his face.

Thank you so much for reading <3

Dragul: Darling (for men)

Papanasi: The ring-shaped donuts are made from cottage cheese and semolina and then fried, which the Romanians prefer, unlike the original recipe borrowed from Austro-Hungarians that required boiling. The dessert is finished with sour cream on top and preserve, usually blackberry or forest fruits.

Te iubesc iubițel: I love you baby / sweetheart / lover / darling

Webs I got the information from: https://www.tasteatlas.com/best-rated-desserts-in-romania

https://www.learnro.com/romanian-romantic-names

[sassatoru]

─── '𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘢𝘭' 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬

anon: Can you do a Sirius x reader where he’s arrested for the murder of the potters and the reader goes to visit him in Azkaban?

pairing. sirius black x potter!reader

summary. after Sirius' 'betrayal' you confront him, when you break into Azkaban .

warnings. swearing, murder, azkaban, going mad, suicidal thoughts, attempted murder, betrayal.

a/n. thank you for the first request, I hope this is what you wanted.

wc. 0.7k (not proofread)

Sirius sat there alone in the dark. It was his fault, he should have seen it, he should've known.

He hadn't even been there for week and he felt he was going insane, he was losing his mind questioning everything.

Did James feel it when he died? Did it hurt him? Was Harry okay? Where was Harry? What did Remus think? Was he okay the full moon was approaching soon. But most of all, do you blame? What did you think of him?

He sobbed for hours when it finally clicked in his brain. James and Lily were dead. His best friend was gone because of him. Harry was alone, Remus was alone. You were alone. He hoped you and Remus had each other, that you sought him out or he found you and that the two of you mourned together.

He heard people screaming in the background, but he was frozen. You were standing there, right in front of him. Why were you here? What were you doing?

His blood went cold, where you here to kill him? If you were — and he hoped, you were— would it haunt you?

The two of you stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but he broke it by whispering your name. "My love."

"Did you do it?" your eyes blazed with fury as you questioned him, "Remus said you did it. But I couldn't— I can't believe him."

Sirius stared at you, "how'd you get in?"

"Answer me Black!" you raised your wand at him, "My brother, is he dead because of you?!"

Sirius shook his head, "but it might as well be my fault."

He did nothing when you broke down into sobs, your knees sank onto the ground. He didn't want to startle you. "Tell me what happened" you demanded.

So he sat there on opposite sides of the room— if you could call, the damp stoney cell that. He spoke as you hung onto every word, you sat there and you listened to him just like you always had. And when he had finished telling you what actually happened the night of October 31st, you were in more tears. This time you walked over towards him and he held you as you shook and cried into him.

"I'm so sorry" he snapped out of his daze when he heard you apologise. "For what?"

"That they all blame you"

He sighed, "oh love, as long as you believe me I don't care."

You both sat in silence again, only this time it was more comfortable. "How's Harry? and how did you get in here?" Sirius questioned you.

"Harry's at home with Remus they're both asleep." You answered the first question and Sirius couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy— it should've been him and Harry, you and him should've been raising your nephew.

"and?" he asked, trying to get you to answer his other question.

"I turned into a cat. Dementors can't sense animal emotions, so they were practically blind to me."

Sirius hummed as he breathed in your scent, a smell that always relaxed him. He held onto you in fear that if he let go you'd disappear, and he'd realise you were never real.

He couldn't be selfish with you, Harry needed you. Remus needed you. And even though Sirius himself needed you, he had to let you go.

"You have to go dove" he mumbled into your hair although he made no move to let you go.

"Just a moment longer?"

"Just one more moment" he smiled and kissed you softly, "they need you sweetheart, hold Harry for me and tell Remus I'm sorry."

"Do I have to go?" you gripped onto him.

"I'll see you again" he knew you'd return whenever you were able.

You nodded, "I love you, my heart"

He watched her turn into a cat and slip away, "and I love you more my angel."

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[rosieuv]

Project: Eden's Garden chapter 1 is so fucking good oh my god

btw spoilers here

go watch the official playthrough

Please.

Okay so ever since I saw the announcement trailer I was like "Diana's going to die first, I can feel it". It was something with her design, and her personality that screamed "early target". So when all that trial stuff was targeted towards her, I assumed it meant this was when she died: still chapter 1 but a bit later.

Now I think she's gonna die in chapter 2 from all that heroic monologuing. I also feel like Wenona's gonna play some kind of big role due to the way she acts. Possibly an antagonist? I'm not sure.

The actual contents of the chapter are long, with the official playthrough's being about 11 hours combined (and you bet I watched them the day they came out this weekend) yet the pacing still feels fine. A lot happens within both daily life, deadly life and the trial and I can in vision a timeline based on what happened on each day/part of day. The tournament thing was cool and how despite the murder not being in the new rooms, the fact that it would be impossible without it made it feel like it actually had a purpose, which I was a bit concerned about when the corpse was in the boiler room.

I wouldn't have guessed Wolfgang was the victim though but it makes so much sense. And Eva being the murderer. That was a whole bag of plot twists and they work very well. The rooms are cool, the concept of the whole locks thing is cool, basically everything is cool and Tozu is more interesting than Monokuma and he's definitely some drama kid that get rejected from the lead role and so some organisation thing that Wolfgang's father made (I swear he's going to be important in the future) and he was basically like "yeah just act all dramatic and stuff and scare the kiddies". Why Wolfgang is in this game though...idk. I feel like his father has to be important though, especially with the message on the back that for some reason took Damon so long to figure out when I figured it out very quickly: Wolfgang's father is an asshole and he is too. His animal is literally a sheep how the hell did he not realise this. I mean, the conversation with Tozu was cool as he doesn't appear often, but like, has Damon ever heard the phrase "Wolf in sheep's clothing?".

Okay here's my nitpicks:

some of the furniture models are a bit low poly which doesn't mesh well with the 2D sprites

3D textures are weird in places (Wolfgang's chair is the worst offender of this)

the line width is a bit thin in some of the new sprites and it bugs me because the artstyle typically has quite thick lines

this book is never shaded

the Damon thing I mentioned earlier

this bug in the trial where it fades out to show some kind of floor plan, and Damon is talking, but when the UI fades back in, for a split second it shows the mugshot of whoever was speaking before the fade thing (I can't find where this happens in the official playthrough but I swear it's real)

nobody realising the "thin bit of metal" was a hairpin until it was brought up as a lockpick in the trial like i realised that immediately

does Eva have a game console or a tablet? Pre-trial and at the start of the trial it was called a game console but towards the end when it was relevant, it was called a tablet? I can't find an image of it as the wiki doesn't have a gallery page for her (idk why) but I remember it looked like a DS from it's lid

there's only like 4 minigame section things in the trial: non stop debate, rebuttal showdown, the choosy one and the ending one. where's the letter one? i know there's more and i know this is probably so the programmers don't shoot themselves in the head, but still.

when did they have lunch during the last day? there was the tournament, the blackout, the investigation and then the trial and that was all about 5 hours going based on gameplay so if the investigation was at 9:45 ish and the trial ended 5 hours later, then it should be 2:45 and these poor people are starving! Well, idk about them all but Damon certainly didn't stop investigating to make lunch.

there's little inconsistencies with the art style/quality of the image in the CGs. The ending one with Diana sticks out the most to me: the lineart and shading look a little different. It's like a different artist from the rest drew it.

Okay more praise:

grace pulling the middle finger in her objection sprite

wenona

the music made by mark having a danganronpa motif in

the dummy thing in the execution

the whole scene where eva's true talent is revealed and her "oh shit" sprite

all the voice acting

the maths equipment in the execution

the thing with the calendars and the horses joke at the beginning

eva's free time events (it was shown in the playthrough)

the scenes with Tozu at the beginning of each day

the tree animation is sick

the thing with the footsteps

the thing with the blackout

everyone screaming one by one when they see the body

the beginning

the middle

the end

all those biblical references

Tumblr is going to have a field day with this game.

[byhees]

hidden love ━━ ( 엔하이픈 희승 ) ♡ genre fluff high school au potential bestfriends2lovers warnings not proof-read petnames light injury mention

thinking about heeseung, who has been your best friend throughout the entirety of middle school, and now, three whole quarters of high school— and oh, did i mention that you have a big crush on him?

i mean, the real question here is, how could you not?? he’s such a sweetheart, and he’s always, without fail, been able to cheer your horrible day up with his little antics. well, for starters, he always gets you an extra portion of his usual sandwich, leaving the little meal on your desk, an apple-shaped sticky note beside it— breakfast’s the most important part of the day, so don’t skip it, okay princess? like okay okay, first why is this so cute, second what’s with the princess omg…

and, he loves, absolutely adores, walking you to all your classes, despite his being on the opposite end of campus; his little, kinda clumsily executed, jokes are horrible at best, but my god, why’re you giggling so hard??? it has to be that adorable smile he flashes whenever he realises how nonsensical his sentences sound, his head lightly shaking with light embarrassment. yeah… it’s definitely that.

also, don’t get me started on how unbelievably caring he is; he’ll stay up with you whenever you’re studying— doesn’t matter if he’s about to pass out asleep right on the plastic chair, he’ll do that just for you. he does so to bring small snacks and drinks to you, suggesting to take a quick break every so often. and don’t underestimate him when he says that he’ll pick you up and carry you over to the nearest couch for a brief nap; your dark eye circles, and the frequent massaging of your aching shoulders aren’t fooling him.

no because he cares about your health so, so much— even more than his own at times. that one time when you both unknowingly ended up in the nurse’s office? he completely disregarded his stomach pain, walking over to you with panic-laced steps. even recalling the incident makes you laugh— the way he examined and treated your sprained ankle made it seem as though you’d fractured a few bones. but thinking back to all his little actions, your heart does flutter; the countless number of times he looks out for you, the little vitamin drinks he leaves by your table…

and why does he have the strongest sixth sense known to mankind?? that doesn’t really help, considering your budding feelings. you’d snatch the opportunity to just admire him, and he’d suddenly, coincidentally, look up from his open textbook, unintentionally locking gazes with you. “were you just staring at me?” no silly, i was mowing my lawn— of course i was!! and don’t point it out!?

also, he’s just the absolute cutest, most endearing person ever when he walks over to you, a little teddy bear in hand, on that one particular day— national favourite person day, that’s what he calls it, and to be completely honest, you have zero clue on what that may be, but this gesture really warms your heart. like stop being so cute with your cute smile and your cute stuffed animal…

it’s no doubt at this point that lee heeseung, that boy right over there who’s focused on taking notes, is your crush; your crush who’s completely oblivious as to how his small actions tug heavily at your heartstrings.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[myfandomrealitea]

Your post regarding specifc places for things and some places dont need a vent channel it helped me realise that the people i follow online were damaging to my health. They were constantly sharing real people who died horrifically and saying things like "if you dont share you're supporting violence " while i only joined social media to view art.

I actively speak about real life events offline with my family, we always talk about whats happening in the world once a week and mention anything new within the local and worldwide news. I didn't understand why social media was worsening my mental health around these topics since i could speak about it in real life with my family. i assumed i was horrible for simply not wanting to see it online, When your post about a safe space came up i realised why it made me feel so bad, the artists i followed no longer were posting art and were just constantly sharing news daily about horrific events. It became inescapable and i was unknownly doomscrolling for hours on social media while hoping to see art (that just made me feel bad viewing after seeing so much death) , my only escape was going offline. I already made new accounts just for art and Im so thankful for your post since i did avoid everything that was about real world events since the account is only for art and i feel so much more.. i guess happier.. but definitely more mentally healthy if that makes sense? It felt like my mind was drained or foggy when scrolling through social media, and i wasnt actually paying attention before but now its a lot more, clear, healthy and positive. Im able to think properly and actually pay attention and appreciate the good things online

I'm so glad I was able to help you on your journey to bettering your wellbeing. Its an aspect of why I run this blog and talk about the things that I do.

So very often people don't actually register or realize what parts of their lives are causing stress. They attribute it to 'working too much' or 'not sleeping enough' without realizing that there are direct causes for things like not sleeping enough. And I'm not saying every single part of life comes back to activism, but very often we don't even realize how much negativity and forced awareness we're exposing ourselves to.

I used to religiously follow accounts on Instagram which posted about animal abuse. Other than a handful of celebrities my Instagram feed would be the most graphic videos you could imagine of people hacking into live dogs with axes, boiling cats alive in huge vats of water, jockeys tearing at horse's mouths until their teeth were loose and they were leaving a trail of blood as they walked the winner's circle.

I used to think if I wasn't constantly forcing myself to acknowledge that these things were happening, if I wasn't constantly reminding myself the extent at which these things happen, I was a bad person. I wasn't a real animal lover. If I truly loved animals why wasn't I sharing these videos? Why wasn't I sitting there with thousands of other people acknowledging what animals go through while I sit comfy at home doing nothing?

It got the point where I'd be throwing up constantly, I refused to sleep because I was terrified of the nightmares and my hands would shake as I opened up the Instagram app because I dreaded what I'd see today.

It wasn't helping me. It wasn't helping the animals. I'm just as aware now of what animals go through without having to see any of it.

But now, I have the wellbeing to actually devote myself to meaningful activism. Not just tormenting myself to no outcome. Now, I have the willpower and the energy to sign petitions and do research and take steps in my own life to better the welfare of the animals in my care.

Now I can sleep at night and wake up well-rested with the energy and the motivation to do things both for myself and for other people. Now, I can scroll Instagram and leave polite, correctional comments on misguided videos about animals. Now I have the knowledge to devote my attention and my efforts to where it actually makes a difference and changes animal's lives.

It is such, such a hard thing to drag yourself out of. We're so conditioned into thinking suffering shared is suffering lessened. We're so conditioned into believing that by spamming words anywhere we can we are the direct cause of change.

Its a hell of a learning climb. A steep one. But I genuinely believe the world would be better off for learning and changing as we both had the courage to.