#they didn't have space to title the full thing

[unholyhelbig]

Caitvi Prompt: Caitlyn is head Park Ranger and deals with an unruly deputy Ranger Vi who has recently become unruly and animalistic. Caitlyn doesn’t understand the change in attitude until Vi turns up naked and injured on her cabins doorstep.

Title: Shoot to Kill

Ship: Werewolf!Vi x Park Ranger!Caitlyn

Wordcount: 5019

Summary: It's been months since a brutal attack took both Cassandra Kiramman and Powder Lane from the world. Caitlyn and Vi handle their grief differently, but something just isn't right with Vi, and things can't be ignored forever.

Warnings: Typical werewolf gore, blood, bullets, canon-typical violence, animal attack, shooting, self-sacrifice, almost nsfw but not quite there yet, horrible spelling, I don't beta read we know this.

[A/n: I went overboard here. I love arcane, I love werewolves, what were we expecting when someone sent me this prompt? Anyway. You know I bad I wanted to make this full smut? SO fucking bad but it didn't seem like the time for them to fuck. So they didn't. Do people even like my Arcane stuff? Fuck no, but this is for me.]

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Blood filled Vi’s mouth with a metallic density that was not unfamiliar but was entirely unwelcome. A low tide of a headache was pulling at her temples, her mouth a cottony type of dry that she couldn’t swallow away.

She was running late. Even in the darkness of her cabin, she knew that she was pushing it by the way the daylight filtered through the slatted blinds. Caitlyn was going to have her hide. She’d been warned twice already, pulled into the office that smelled too much like lavender and wood polish.

Vi shoved her feet unceremoniously into her boots. She swished a shot of peppermint schnapps around her mouth until it was warm and frothy before swallowing and dashing out the door. Vi didn’t’ bother to tuck her shirt in and do up her laces.

Showing up was enough. It had to be enough. There was dirt and blood under her nails and her skin was taut with sweat. She probably smelled rank with the outdoors and her body ached something fierce from the night before. Vi didn’t’ feel comfortable looking in the mirror before she hauled herself to the main cabin.

The state of her was not normal. It was not human. But she was present and that was all Ranger Kiramman was going to get on this balmy Wednesday morning.

Doubt, mixed with a decidedly solid amount of dread, swirled with a fullness in Vi’s stomach. She was full, a feeling that she did not enjoy being. She had eaten last night, something big that left a horrible nausea clinging to the inside of her stomach. A heat in the back of her throat and slicking the inside of her stomach.

She crashed unceremoniously through the door of the main cabin. The annoying brass bell gave her tardiness away as it deposited her into the gift shop. Caitlyn’s deadly oxford stare leveled her with precision, but she never faltered in her delivery.

Loris steadied her with his hulking size, taking up just as much space as the bookshelf that he stood near. He regarded her with his quiet amusement and low huff as she attempted to shove her shirt past her belt without drawing more eyes to herself.

“As I was saying.” Caitlyn’s voice was cutting, slicing through whatever resolve Vi had left. “The rest of the week and into next is a fire ban. There will be push back. In zone’s seven and eight, especially. Overton and Dunne, I want you positioned there around the clock. Do not hesitate to hand out red notices. One spark and the whole forest could go up. Am I clear?”

A murmured chorus of agreements rung out. A burn notice would draw attention away from Vi, at least for now. It worked Caitlyn’s nerves like a string instrument. Anger still simmered in the stare that moved her way.

“As for the rest of you, you know your posts, and you have your assignments. Keep your walkies on channel seven and signal if you need anything. Remember that laws are not suggestions and safety is key.” She scanned the lot of Rangers, brows furrowed and nose wrinkled in the way that Vi found oddly endearing. “Dismissed.”

Loris shoved her shoulder with enough force to shove a burp into her mouth, one that was not pleasant. She nearly vomited up whatever she had torn through last night, but luckily swallowed it back down. He wandered over to the busted coffee maker where he would linger long enough for Vi to take her verbal lashing.

If it were up to her, she’d slip into the woods and take her usual post at the North end of the park, checking permits until her fingers bled. It would be an easy day as long as she could nurse her headache. She and Loris could squeeze into the same box and answer the same questions from the same brand of tourists until it was time to go back to her cabin.

The pinching floral scent that often invaded Vi’s lungs seemed to surround her in an instant. It used to be something she enjoyed, but as of late, it was something she couldn’t’ control. It was overwhelming in a way that was too much. It made her stomach roll and her throat tighten. If she were to vomit, it would be blood and bones and bile.

“Violet, I want you to take a walk with me.”

Caitlyn’s voice was unbelievably tender for the situation at hand. She was expecting a verbal scrouge. Even her features were worked into something calm. Vi was too exhausted to fight back. After her little side quest last night, she wanted to curl into a ball under her blankets and sleep for an eternity.

“I uh, have to assist Loris with the morning rush of tourists, don’t I?”

She shook her head. “I’ve stationed Steb. You don’t look like you feel well. Follow me.”

“God, you’re taking me out back to shoot me like old yeller.”

Caitlyn snorted and held the screen door open. Vi walked through it first, taking in another lungful of Caitlyn’s floral scent. She wish it were comforting. She wished her friend, the woman she used to trust with anything in the world, brought her some degree of relief.

She hadn’t in months, and they both felt it. Bone deep.

They walked for a few minutes. Until the commotion of the other rangers dispersing faded into nothing. The forest offered nothing to Vi lately. She hadn’t noticed it at first; the lack of sound. Crickets and morning birds and small animals that created a cacophony of noise that she had always taken for granted before.

Caitlyn’s breathing had stuttered, a nervous tick she developed at a young age that Vi picked up months ago when her hearing had risen to a deafening level. She shoved her hands into her pockets and softened her gaze, dipping her head. Attempting to show submission.  She’d never meant to make Caitlyn nervous.

She removed her green nightcap, working her fingers around the wide brimmed edge. Another nervous habit. Vi could smell the sweetness of her sweat, something she hadn’t been privy to since the funeral when her nose was pressed so close to the girls pulse point that the smell had coated every inch of her.

Vi was so close that she could hear the rush of her blood and the pounding of her heart. Her mouth filled with saliva so rapidly that she couldn’t keep up with swallowing. She’d nearly drooled at the thought of opening her maw and tearing Caitlyn’s jugular out with one clamp of her jaw.

Shoving her away and storming from the procession was attributed to grief. Anger at nature for having the audacity of taking them in the first place. Caitlyn and Vi must have been hurting so much that any action they committed was acceptable for a time.

Six months later and people still asked how they were doing. Caitlyn would tell them that she was fine. Vi would tell them that she felt like shit. Both would smile sadly. Caitlyn threw herself into her inherited role of Head Ranger and Vi drank on nights that she couldn’t forget and leaned into nights that she didn’t remember.

“They expect me to strip you of your title.” Caitlyn sighed out in one hot breath that splayed against Vi’s cheeks. “Those rangers in there… know I have a soft spot for you, Vi. Anyone else and I would have done far worse. They’d be out of a job.”

Caitlyn frowned and plopped down onto the pebbled shore next to a stream. Run-off from one of the glaciers at the top of the peak. The water was crisp and clear. Vi would dip her fingers into it sometimes, trying to disturb the flow and shock some sense into herself. She lowered herself carefully next to her friend. The only girl who had ever made her ache this viciously.

“I didn’t mean to put you in that position, Cupcake.”

“You’re hurting.”

“So are you.”

Vi swallowed something thick in her throat, picked up a smooth stone and dug her fingers into it as if she could shave off decades of shaping. Trout colored eyes traced the curve of Caitlyn’s side profile as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. She drew in careful breathes. The sound of the stream drowned out the silence around them.

Cassandra Kiramman’s entrails had been gnawed into paste after her stomach was torn open unceremoniously. Vi remembers the squelch of flesh and the snap of her sternum. Her screams had turned into a drowned gurgle before there was nothing.

The creature, after having gotten the taste for the richness of Kiramman blood, had gone for the throat and mercifully took Cassandra out of her misery. Vi watched the light leave her eyes. Something she’d seen slowly dim in Caitlyn’s over the months.

Now, she clenched her own eyes shut. “I can’t leave these woods, Cait. They’re all I know. I’ll try harder.”

“I know you will. I didn’t come out here to, what did you say? Shoot you like old yeller. I might be in charge of you, Violet, but I’m also your friend.” Her voice wavered on the word, stuck in her throat as much as she allowed. “I want you to talk to me.”

She gave her a sad grin “I talk to you all the time, Cupcake.”

“You know what I mean.” Cait’s eyebrow twitched. She hesitated, something she never did. Not in all the years that Vi had known her. But it was only for a moment. Her hand slipped into Vi’s, dislodging the stone she had wanted to thread into putty. “You can talk to me.”

Vi felt her throat tighten and a dampness come to her eyes that she quickly blinked away. Whatever she ate last night threatened to make a third return. She nodded, afraid to speak, but it seemed to be enough to Caitlyn. She gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. It was warm and solid.

Greif weighed heavily between them both. But the lead that welded Vi’s jaw shut was more than subconscious. If she could help it, and she could, Caitlyn would never find out about the animal that shredded her mother.

It had been closed casket for a reason.

They buried an empty one for Jinx. Vi had been in and out of consciousness through her own blinding pain. She’d gasped. It was caught in her throat along with the scent of Cassandras viscera. Long teeth had crunched through Vi’s left lumbar, the soft brawn of her giving away like it was tillable earth.  

She’d looked into the creature’s eyes. They were glowing red, feral. It was frothing at the mouth, saliva mixing so deliciously with what could only be Vi’s own blood. There was nothing but hunger behind it’s actions. And for a moment, Vi could understand that want.

Only for a moment.

Jinx- Powder- she had a loud whistle that could catch the attention of a hound within a ten-mile radius. This snapping animal was no different. It whipped it’s maw up fast enough to drip saliva against Vi’s festering wounds.

“Don’t!” Vi had screamed because she was so desperate to save her little sister. But the look in her eyes was resolute. Even in the light of the full moon. It showed more than the hunger, the viciousness. Jinx was on a mission. A martyr that would die for her charge.

She had the audacity to nod at Vi that night, to grin at her in a wolfish manner before her boots kicked up gravel. Evidently, the animal enjoyed the chase more than the prey it had pinned under it’s large paws. Claws dug sharply into Vi’s chest and stomach, tearing like soft butter into her stomach and chest.

Vi remembers screaming. She remembers the warmth of her own blood and the pale light of the moon overhead. She thinks she remembers her sisters maniacal howl combined with that of her own.

No… She would spare Caitlyn Kiramman the pain that her mother had endured. Some things are better left unlearned.

The smell of gunpowder, sulfurous and smokey, brought up a helping of vomit that Vi couldn’t swallow down. She thought it was vomit but couldn’t quite tell. It could have been nothing more than blood surfacing from the wound that had torn through the wound in her sternum.

The head ranger herself had fired off what was supposed to be a warning shot, but even with her immense fear clouding her aim, she had managed to land a slug in Violet. Silver. It burned viciously, sizzled like acid. Maybe it had been bile that splattered onto the forest floor in a stringy mess.

Vi’s vision was blurry with tears, cheek pressed to the earth as she watched Caitlyn on the front porch of her cabin, clutching her rifle. She released vapor with each breath, eyes methodically scanning the tree line.

Her bones were morphing into something human, something much more becoming. The bullet lodged within her was making it nearly impossible. Her nails were long, her ears tipped with red fur akin to her own hair. Her pointed teeth digging so painfully into her bottom lip to stifle her pained growls.

She was far from wolf, but far from mortal.

When the moon rose this high, she lost herself in the pain and the hunger that had led to her original demise. Vi preferred it this way. She separated the beast that tore through her once a month from the human that kept it at bay the rest of the time. She didn’t know what the wolf did. Did not want to.

Anger surged through her now.

The National Park was endless, and yet… yet… she was at Caitlyn Kiramman’s doorstep. There was a sinking feeling within her that the creature she’d buried deep had been stalking the woman. The disease that had transferred through bite, through blood, couldn’t get enough. Wouldn’t unclamp it’s greedy jaws.

Violet craved Caitlyn’s touch. Preened under her approval. The creature must do the same. Had to, if it had gotten close enough for a shot to be fired. For a bullet to hit.

She rolled over onto her back and started clawing desperately with her sharpened nails at the shot. She clipped down on her tongue to swallow her scream, digging around the wound. She couldn’t grasp it, only pushed it further down. She swore she would drown in her own blood. It threatened to heal around her fingers, causing nothing but undeniable agony.

Cait had lowered the muzzle of her gun, squinting directly where she lay, as if she could see directly into Vi’s soul. Frosty eyes watched her, and she’d be damned if they didn’t send a chill down her spine, regardless of the thin line of blood that dripped down the corner of her mouth.

This was about more than swallowing her pride. Caitlyn was her only lifeline here. She wouldn’t blame the girl for taking one look at her and firing a second shot that wasn’t a warning right between her eyebrows.

Another tweak of horrible pain and her decision was made. Vi dug her slowly receding nails into the soft soil and dragged herself to the edge of the head rangers property. She was trembling, weak. The pale moonlight hitting her tattooed marred skin. She stiffened, feeling an odd rush counter her pain.

Caitlyn sucked in a sharp breath and repositioned her weapon, steeling her stance. Vi lazily dug her chin into the earth and stared at the woman with stars in her eyes. She used to lounge on Cait’s bed with the same disposition. Albeit in less throbbing pain.

“Violet?”

The safety was switched off and the rifle was propped up against the door. Caitlyn was dashing across the lawn, barefoot despite the many times she had warned her own rangers against the dangers of doing so. Goosebumps prickled against her skin and undeniable worry etched onto her beautiful features.

She dropped to her knees, despite the dampness of the grass. Vi Stiffened, attempted to press her face into the grass but Caitlyn’s hands were quicker to cup her face. She could see the reflection of the golden glow in the blue of the woman’s gaze.

Vi stifled a whimper at the hold. She was naked and could feel her muscles stiffening. It was getting harder to move, to breathe without feeling the burn in her lungs. They crackled uncomfortably. The hands that cradled her face were warm. If she were to die at this moment, this would be enough.

“Darling, did I…” her voice was choked “I’ve shot you.”

“You never miss, Cupcake.”  

“I thought you were an animal.” She swiped both thumbs across Vi’s cheeks, wiping away tears and dirt and sweat, and maybe a little bit of blood.

“I think I might be.”

“Oh.”

The conversation was far too casual, Vi decided. She wavered in the cold, coughed up another mouthful of mucus and blood. This changed the worry in Caitlyn’s eyes to something harder that resembled the training that both of them had.

She scooped Vi up with strength that lingered fruitfully under her soft cotton t-shirt sleep clothes. The smaller woman opened her mouth to protest but the words died as her vision fluttered at the edges and her head slotted so easily into the small of Caitlyn’s throat.

It would be so easy her wolf howled to taste her.

Vi whined to drown out the thought, clutched the fabric that she clung to like a life raft. If Loris or Steb or even the orange-haired receptionist that glowered at her with contempt from behind the gift shop desk saw her now she would blanch. Never admit had content she felt in Caitlyn Kiramman’s arms.

And, God, was she content.

Caitlyn kicked the door to her cabin open and Vi breathed in a mix of spices from an earlier dinner untouched. She knew the layout of the cabin well, could hear the low crackle of a fire and could feel the heat of it as she was set down on the sofa that mirrored the hearth.

“I don’t understand it. I’ve nailed you with a shot right in the chest. You should be dead, or at the very least on it’s doorstep, not mine. You’re regarding me with discontent like I tasered you, or stunned you. Not like I took a Winchester and fired off a round. I rightly should take the stat phone and call the proper authority to get you to the emergency room and me to the psych ward.”

Caitlyn rambled in an adorably infuriating way when she was flustered. Even if Vi could get past the dryness in her throat she wouldn’t stop her. She enjoyed the way her cheeks would grow pink and she’d work the impassable problems out by her own accord.

She was flitting around, grabbing antiseptic, and medical kits that she had stashed, because she knew exactly what to do. Vi hadn’t realized she opened her eyes, or that she was watching her with a lazy content, but that’s exactly what she was doing, hand resting above her wound to subconsciously protect herself, breathing stuttered.

Her nails had retracted and so had her ears, thankfully. But her teeth still felt crowded in her mouth and she couldn’t calm her heart. She didn’t know, couldn’t know, if her eyes still shown a dangerous golden yellow. Caitlyn, her Caitlyn, had seen them either way. She balked at the fact.

“Cait,” Vi eventually stuttered out, clinging onto that floral scent that surrounded her so diligently. The Ranger was at her side in just a moment, crouching next to the sofa, grasping at her flexed and unflexed bicep. It was coated in a sheen of cold sweat. “I need you to get the bullet out. Please.”

That flicker of doubt was there again. It was brief but startling all the same. The Kiramman’s did not falter. She stared openly at Vi’s bare chest. At the pierced, pert nipples and the marred flesh in between them. In any other situation she would make a crude comment to cover her embarrassment, but this was not any other situation and Vi needed this bullet out now.

She gently grabbed the side of Caitlyn’s face, directing her attention, leading that deadly Cambridge stare to her own. “I understand that I am the last… I am the last… I didn’t…”

Vi was going about this wrong. She didn’t know how to get the words out. She didn’t know how to say that the same monster that had torn Caitlyn’s mother to shreds had taken up residence in her bones. Had changed her. They weren’t the same teeth, the same claws, but they had the same intention, could shed the same blood.

A sob tore through her, one that reminded Vi much of ones last. A death rattle. Caitlyn’s hot hand was holding her down in a moment, splayed against taut muscle. She was digging through an open first aide kit and searching for titanium prongs, a crease formed between her eyebrows.

“Hold this.”

Caitlyn barked the demand, and a wad of gauze was suddenly shoved into Vi’s mouth, catching on her chapped lips. She bit down so she wouldn’t choke on it. Caitlyn didn’t give a count down. It wasn’t her style. She didn’t coddle, or nurse you through pain that was known to be excruciating.

Instead, she dug the pointed prongs into the wound that was desperate to heal. Vi moaned around the gag, nails slashing even lines into the nearest throw pillow. Her claws were quick to come out, spilling stuffing as tears clouded her vision. Her back arched from the sofa as drool frothed from the corners of her mouth.

Caitlyn had the audacity to shush her like a petulant child. She plowed through the recesses of her injury, the layers of tissue and tendons. The gauze became damp and sticky with pink saliva. The heel of Caitlyn’s free hand was digging painfully into Vi’s shoulder to pin her down.

If Vi hadn’t been blinded by pain, she would relish in the way Caitlyn’s body was slotted against her own, having shifted. A sure knee in between her legs, pressed against her center. They were in a compromising position. Caitlyn’s breath was warm as it splayed across her chest. Vi’s rapid and building.

After a few agonizing moments, the prongs were pulled away and the bullet dropped to the floor with a clatter. Nothing could be heard but the punctuated panting of both women and the crackling of fire eating through logs. They were still. Vi’s teeth clenched and Cait’s hands still splayed near the wound that slowly began to seal itself in front of her disbelieving eyes.

Vi was filled with unrest. Dissatisfaction. Her hands were pinned and her throat was slick with blood. Her skin was buzzing and clarify had hit her like a truck now that the damned bullet had been pulled out. She was naked, vulnerable. And Caitlyn fucking Kiramman was on top of her.

Vi was saying something. Her stupid mouth was saying something, but it was muffled by the gauze, and Caitlyn lifted a shaky hand, pulling it from her lips with blood-soaked hands. “what?”

“Can you get off of me?” her words cracked. “I’m naked, cupcake.”

Caitlyn drew in a sharp breath, flicking her gaze down for an agonizing moment before shifting her weight off Vi. The sensation was immediately missed. A whimper quelled, swallowed along with the metallic taste that lingered on her tongue. Vi scrambled herself, pulling the throw blanket on the back of the sofa around her shoulders and making her hulking frame as small as she possibly could as she curled under the scratchy material.

She reveled in the scent of Caitlyn. Something that had been so oppressing the month before when they spoke in the woods. Now she swam in it. Hell, she wanted to drown in it. The Ranger busied herself with grabbing alcohol wipes from the first aide kit.

When she settled, she did so next to Vi. Their knees touching, as if any type of distance would make her perish. The gesture made her heart pound. It still ached, still fought to heal, but she didn’t’ mind. Caitlyn wordlessly asked for her hand and used her teeth to tear away the paper of the antiseptic wipe.

Vi always had larger hands than Caitlyn. But Caitlyn was nimble and methodic where Vi was clunky and impulsive. Despite the blood that had dried around her nailbeds, Caitlyn started the heavy task of cleaning the dirt and muck away from Vi’s knuckles. Neither of them speaking for a good, long while. She was waiting for Vi to speak, and she would wait for however long it took. She would always wait.

“I black out a lot.”

Caitlyn’s movement’s stilled for a moment. She had cleared most of the blood away from Vi’s left hand and moved on the right. There was a tiny mountain of wipes on the coffee table and the chemical scent was burning both of their lungs. She resumed her work with a committal hum.

“I think it’s a small mercy, really. I don’t want to remember. After that night, I knew something was different about me, but I wanted to attribute it to the grief, to the drinking. To anything other than what I knew was sitting in front of me all along.”

Caitlyn was scrubbing particularly hard at a spot of blood that refused to release itself from Vi’s skin at the base of her palm. Vi gently took the woman’s hands, giving them a squeeze, drawing her attention from the task. Her eyes were red around the edges from exhaustion. From emotion. She sniffed, glowered dangerously at Vi.

“The thing that… took your mother and Powder away from us it” Vi’s voice shattered. She grimaced and looked towards the fire. Tried to clear the emotion from her chest, but couldn’t quick staunch it. Never really could when it came to Caitlyn, so she embraced it instead, stared directly into the eye of the storm as it swirled. “When it bit me, it changed me. I don’t think it had a choice in what it was and I don’t think I have a choice in what I am now.

“This forest needs something to harbor it’s pain, and it breaks my heart more and more every single day that we crossed it’s path that night.” Vi’s head dropped, tears falling into her lap. Her shoulders convulsed. She was shaking, she knew. Too tired to fight them off. “You can hate me, Cait. I’m begging you to hate me. I would hate me.”

Hands were quick to find her cheeks and franticly wipe away at heated tears before patting at her collarbone until she looked up with confusion in her stare. Vi met an expression that was nothing more than stark tenderness, a flat line of a mouth. Caitlyn was calculating. She was exasperated. The look she often carried for Vi.

“Hate you? Why on earth would I hate you Vi?”

“I… I couldn’t stop it. I became it.”

“Darling,”

It was the subtle shake of her head, the gentleness of the single word, the quiet acceptance in her eyes. Everything combined. Vi crumbled. She fell forward and into Caitlyn’s arms. The Ranger let out a huff of air but accepted her all the same. She did not hesitate to pull her close, Vi’s ear pressed against Caitlyn’s stomach as she buried her head into the woman’s lap.

“None of this is your fault.” Caitlyn soothed, working her fingers through the mess of pink hair. “You hear me?”

Vi continued to sob, tightening her grip around Caitlyn’s center. She cried until her throat was sore. Breathing the woman in, relishing in the way her fingers felt as they gently pressed against her scalp. She whispered soothing words to her. Held her tightly, ran a hand over her bare spine and the scar of a bite that had never quite healed.

When the fire had turned into nothing but a dull flicker of orange, Caitlyn still harboring all the warmth either of them would ever need, Vi turned and stared up at her. There was a fondness in the woman’s stare. A curiosity there that she knew she’d have to atone for when she wouldn’t need to grip so hard to keep herself grounded.

“I need you to promise me something.”

Caitlyn knit her brows, swallowing hard. She brushed a strand of hair from Vi’s red-rimmed eyes. Her hand was trembling. Vi never wanted to move from this spot, from the warm comfort of the rangers lap, her nose pushed into her stomach where she could make sure she was breathing with ease.

“If you ever see me with a certain look in my eyes Cait, I need you to fire more than a warning shot. I need you to shoot to kill. I know you can.”

She opened and closed her mouth, teeth clanging together in a noise that should have been painful. Her hand curled into a fist against Vi’s bare abdomen, nails scratching lightly on marred skin. She huffed, but didn’t’ say a word. She didn’t trust herself to. It wasn’t the time to ramble, and both of them knew it.

“You’ll know it when you see it.” Vi clenched her eyes shut, burying her face deeper into Cait’s embrace. “You’re an okay shot.”

Caitlyn leaned her head back, letting out an unsteady sigh, her gaze lingering on the cold hearth, the fire long-dead and the Winchester’s silhouette looming as it sat propped in it’s usual place. “I’m an excellent shot.”

[rockman-x]

custom tumblr palette

it's called "shadow the hedgehog, you got a small dic"

[ckret2]

At some point, the Axolotl must've witnessed the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre.

As you can see, Bill is very happy and definitely not at all traumatized and doing great and look at all these followers he's found who are definitely alive.

Here, have a fic about the Axolotl, the birth of the Nightmare Realm, and Bill trying so so hard to convince himself that he's the hero.

####

To the mortals he swam past, with their different calendars and their different ways of perceiving time, the great Axolotl's migration through space and between dimensions was an event of great note: his passing marked eclipses, tsunamis, festivals, omens, meteor showers; his migration was studied by astronomers and his position was marked in astrological birth charts.

To the Axolotl, he was on his daily commute home. He could take an interdimensional portal, but swimming was better for the environment and he could use the exercise.

He passed by the same two dimensional wall every day. It was covered with many little worlds, and so many of them populated with little mortals, and he'd never paid any particular attention to the wall—until yesterday. A bold little triangle had shouted at him as he passed. It had been an amusing conversation—first contact was always fun—but he'd been busy and couldn't talk more than a moment, just long enough for the Axolotl to be charmed that a lower-dimensional creature had yelled at him and for the triangle to be shocked that a higher-dimensional creature had answered. The triangle had told him that, to his two-dimensional people, these shadows on the wall, the Axolotl was an eclipse: they marked the time by the shadow he cast on their flat world during his commute.

He hadn't even learned the triangle's real name. The triangle had refused to tell him, instead introducing himself as the "Magister Mentium." Teacher of minds? Maybe it was a job title.

Between the nightmare of a case the Axolotl was currently handling and the fact that he'd had to stay late working, he'd nearly forgotten about yesterday's fascinating little meeting until he was leaving on his nightly commute. He didn't know how long the tiny shapes' life cycles were; he hoped the little triangle was still alive today. If not, maybe he'd left behind descendants.

But when he came up to the wall, it was gone.

The vacuum reeked of burning hydrogen.

The Axolotl stopped, puzzled. The wall wasn't empty, wasn't damaged, wasn't going through heat death—the entire thing was missing. No rubble. Surely it hadn't been demolished for some new construction? It had been in good condition. It was a fairly new plane of reality, likely under fifty billion years old. And it had admittedly been a few eons since the Axolotl had studied dimension use & zoning law, but last he checked it was unlawful to demolish a populated dimension without transplanting the growths first—which took much longer than a day. So what could possibly have done this? And what he saw behind the wall...

Something was very wrong. He started moving again, faster, looking for someone who could tell him what was happening. He kept the ragged rip in reality left by the missing wall in his peripheral vision. Stars and stardust slowly fell in, sucked through the tear. The wall must have come down by accident.

Nobody would have knowingly left behind such a large hole to Dimension Zero.

Assuming he was looking at Dimension Zero; he wasn't sure he was. Beneath all other dimensions was supposed to be a void, an empty in-between space. The zeroth "dimension" was simply reality's center point, the not-dimension between all dimensions; it wasn't a place. But with the two dimensional wall gone, he didn't see reality bending in toward a point like he should. He saw a roiling, nauseating mass of blinding colors, thrashing around each other like a frightened pile of injured worms.

Far in the distance, a full reality away, he saw a faint line of blue light.

It was several minutes before he began to run into other people. He passed a crew of cosmic firefighters and their ships, spread out over a span of space wider than an asteroid belt. The fact that they didn't appear to currently be fighting any fires was more disconcerting than a full blaze would have been. An eerie tension hung thick over the scene like invisible smoke. As the Axolotl swam by a couple of firefighters, he overheard them saying, "... orders of magnitude higher than anything we've been trained to handle. An entire reality catching fire is one thing, but the concept of realitycatching fire...?"

"And the speed it's moving..."

"Excuse me," the Axolotl said, trying to keep the edge of fear out of his voice. (Why was he so afraid? He was barely acquaintances with one resident on the wall.) "Can you tell me what happened to the wall? It was just here yesterday."

Rather than explain, one of them pointed in the direction he'd been going. "Sorry, we don't know any more than you do. Look for the storm. You can't miss it."

The other asked, "Are you one of the guys with the apoc cops?"

His fear leaped higher. The "apoc cops" were members of the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force. "No. Sorry, I have to go." He swam onward toward the blue line of light.

The stench of burning hydrogen grew stronger. He smelled something else acrid underneath.

####

To his slight relief, the "storm" wasn't the disaster that had brought down this wall. Rather, it was a person: a lightly raining storm cloud with a gray rain-soaked fedora perched on top, hovering in space.

It was talking to a hapless-looking furred serpent twice the Axolotl's length with four mismatched limbs: she clutched a can of spray paint in her claws, and was so nervous he could hear the marble in the can rattling. A disembodied sunbeam pierced the eye of the storm cloud to shine in the serpent's face as she spoke, and a tornado swirled beneath its cloud, carrying all its personal effects—including a tumbling badge from the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force, its logo of a mushroom cloud struck out with the "no" symbol still visible through a thin glaze of sleet. A chill ran through the Axolotl at the sight of that badge.

The cloud wasn't the only one with the apoc cops on the scene. There were several other investigators nearby, taking readings where the wall used to be. The Axolotl didn't like just how many were buzzing around. They seemed far too busy for far too empty a space, and they steered far too clear of the thrashing, multicolored miasma covering the emptiness that should contain Dimension Zero.

There were several stars in the area that the investigators had to work around. Between the crowds and the missing wall, it took the Axolotl a moment to realize where they were: this was the spot he'd met the triangle yesterday. He was sure of it. He recognized the star right next to the missing wall, the one the triangle had told him he eclipsed during his commute. He'd passed it millions of times.

Why had the apoc cops set up here?

The star was slowly falling toward the roiling miasma where Dimension Zero should have been. He nudged it back into place as he passed.

As the Axolotl approached the duo, the serpent was saying, "I told you, I don't know how it caught fire! I was just passing by..." The storm cloud's sunbeam dropped from her face to point skeptically at her spray paint. She hid it behind her back and quickly went on, "I was just passing by, minding my own business and not doing anything illegal, and suddenly the whole wall went up in flames!"

The cloud said, "The whole wall? Simultaneously?"

"The whole thing! I mean... it kind of rolled across the dimension, but—it took less than ten seconds to cover everything I saw!"

"Which direction did the fire travel?"

While the serpent tried to remember, the Axolotl swam up to the storm cloud. "Excuse me, the firefighters said you're in charge of the investigation?"

"Currently," the cloud said, in a tone that suggested it very much wished it wasn't. It looked over the Axolotl, then turned back to the serpent—she flinched when its sunbeam hit her face again—and it asked gruffly, "Is this your lawyer?"

The serpent looked hopeful. "Are you my lawyer?"

"No, I'm not," the Axolotl said, perturbed. Potential defendants aside, nobody ever insinuated he was somebody's lawyer and meant it in a nice way—and he was on the receiving end of such accusations more and more often lately. His reputation was beginning to precede him. "We've never met. I'm trying to find out what happened to this wall. I know a—friend in there. You said something about a fire?"

An active ATTF investigation was in no way the Axolotl's business. But people had a tendency to cooperate with professionals, whether or not their profession had anything to do with the situation at hand. The ATTF agent turned to the Axolotl and said, "You had a friend in there. The wall that used to be here, Dimension 2 Delta, has been completely incinerated."

The Axolotl stared at the cloud, trying to process that. But the whole wall had been there yesterday. Billions of galaxies, each with trillions of stars, each capable of supporting trillions of species—never mind lives. "You can't mean completely. Surely there are some survivors?"

"Not a single one," the cloud said. "Not even gods and ghosts made it out."

"How?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," the storm said. "Right now, the only witness we've found was the person who called in the emergency." A branch of lightning pointed toward the serpent. "And she doesn't know a damn thing." The serpent nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

"But that's... How does an entire dimension disappear with only one witness?"

"Very quickly," the storm said. "The apocalypse Origin & Cause investigation can't make heads or tails of the scene—" a gust of wind swept demonstratively toward the other apoc cops taking readings near the missing wall, "but far as we can tell, the damn thing spontaneously combusted—somewhere near here."

The Axolotl stared helplessly between the serpent and the storm. "Dimensions aren't supposed to spontaneously combust," he said, very reasonably and very unnecessarily.

"Tell 2Δ that," the storm said. "Only time a dimension moves that fast is during a Big Bang explosion or a Big Crunch implosion—and 2Δ wasn't undergoing a Big Crunch. No natural one, anyway. In all my eons with ATTF, I've never seen anything like it."

The Axolotl had been around enough eons himself to know that, after a certain point, novelty became very, very scary—because things working like they should shouldn't do anything you'd never seen before. He worriedly searched the roiling chaos exposed by Dimension 2 Delta's collapse for any sign of what had happened.

The chaos simply thrashed. It moved like it was in pain.

"Did that..." the Axolotl gestured vaguely toward the chaotic foam, "have anything to do with the wall's combustion?"

The serpent shrugged. "I didn't see it until after the fire went by."

The storm grunted uncertainly, a low, thunderous grumble. "Heck if we know. It's connected, no doubt about that—but we haven't even figured out what it is yet. All we know is, it shouldn't have been behind the wall."

The Axolotl stared into the roiling colors, looking for anything visible through the thrashing kaleidoscopic colors.  "If you don't know what it is yet—then, how do you know there aren't survivors in there?" The Axolotl couldn't stop seeing that poor, frightened, awed triangle he'd met yesterday. All the people who'd once been in Dimension 2 Delta mattered—of course they did, those billions of trillions of trillions of billions of lives; he wanted any of them to survive—but that triangle was the one he knew, the one he saw in his mind's eye now. The whole dimension was contained inside that triangle. He had to hope. "I'm going to check."

"What—? You're crazy! Don't you know falling into Dimension Zero will destroy you?!"

"I know falling into Dimension Zero destroys you; I don't know what falling into that thing will do." He squared up with the chaos and steeled his nerves. "Besides, I can regenerate. I'm an axolotl."

"But—!"

"Sorry, there isn't time for more questions." He swam into the maelstrom.

####

Dimension Zero was supposed to be a singularity. Like a black hole, but even smaller—a point so dense it broke physics. If you fell in you'd be crushed into that point by the weight of all realities, a point so small it had no volume.

But whatever was behind where the wall had been, it was certainly no point.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was barraged with a psychic hurricane. Reality frothed and foamed like a flood spilling from a burst dam. Distant baby stars were born and popped like bubbles, and old stars fell in and were gloriously reignited. His every sense was bombarded with infinite sensations—every color and image in this dimension all at once; every song that had ever been played playing in the same instant and the instant extended indefinitely; strobe lights that were both flashing on and flashing off at the exact same moment. Beneath the music was a constant hiss like the background radiation of reality, the static echo of a universe's birth, but much too loud; he could swear it sounded like gibbering, babbling voices, their desperate messages unintelligible. He smelled every scent, including the lingering smell of burning hydrogen that he'd noticed outside; but above and beyond all that, he smelled the stench of burning life.

He knew now, this was Dimension Zero: it was as if all of spacetime had been crushed into a singularity, but then the singularity was bloated up to the size of an entire universe. Dimension Zero was never supposed to be this bloated.

And the most terrifying part: there were people in this bizarre ruin of a dimension. Millions of them. (Just as horrifying: there were only millions of them.) He was sure he must have been hallucinating—here, dreams and reality swirled around each other like a bottle of water and oil shaken until they were forced to mix—but the longer he looked, the more sure he was that the people were a part of reality. They were, perhaps, the most real thing in the entire dimension.

They were all dancing.

They were all dead.

"Heeey, look who's here!" Suddenly, in front of the Axolotl, there he was—as if he'd always been in front of the Axolotl, as if he were always everywhere at once. The ghost of the little triangle he'd seen yesterday, neon incorporeal. "Happy New Year, everybody!" He laughed. "Get it? That—that's a joke, time doesn't pass in the dream realm, so..." The triangle waved off the Axolotl. "Oh, you wouldn't get it. Screw you. Anyway, introductions! I should do that." 

The triangle was extremely inebriated. He was blinking blearily, floating crookedly, moving in odd uncoordinated jerks, his pupil expanding and contracting with no correlation to the light it was taking in. He seemed to flicker across multiple timelines that had been collapsed into one, like a drunk that couldn't walk a straight line: appearing here then there, then multiple places at once, then everywhere; and then became everywhere, and then collapsed again to a single triangular point. The Axolotl had the worrying impression that the triangle hadn't been sober for a long time.

"So! These are my people!" He gestured with a flourish to the dancing corpse puppets. The strobe lights—which, the Axolotl only now realized, didn't actually have a source, but were rather disembodied rays of light emanating from nothing—turned to highlight them from every angle. It was like a cloud of glitter, all these tiny, flat, jewel-tone flecks, emerald and citrine and ruby and sapphire, triangles and squares and pentagons and hexagons. Each with two spindly arms; some with legs and some without; a single dull eye or a slack mouth; some of them cracked and chipped like broken glass, some of them crushed and melted together into multi-corpsed horrors, some of them fraying and peeling apart around the edges like fabric; so much silvery blood dripping and floating around them. Such beautiful, colorful dancing gore. "All my followers and friends! They love me! They couldn't see you last time you flew by, but thanks to me, they sure can now! Say hellooo!"

It took the Axolotl a moment to realize that the triangle's eye was boring into him and the instruction was for him. "Hello," he said weakly. 

"Very nice." The triangle turned without turning to the millions lost inside Dimension Zero, reality shifting around him to put all of the dimension's prisoners in front of his eye. The Axolotl reeled from existential vertigo. "Now check this out!" The triangle gestured at the Axolotl for his people's benefit. "Behold! Your Magister Mentium presents to you: the eclipse! In the horrifying pink flesh! Quite a sight, huh?"

Many of the dancers turned toward him. Some aimed their dull, dead eyes in his direction. He shivered under their chill stares.

Heedless of the Axolotl's horror, the triangle elbowed him. "I didn't peg you for a party crasher, pinky!" (The triangle's touch was so cold.) "But hey, the more the merrier. Welcome to the dream realm, have a drink!"

A 2D cup manifested in front of the Axolotl that, based on its smooth, featureless yellow surface and its glow, appeared to be made from the triangle's own ghostly flesh. It seemed to be filled with watered-down raw existence. He didn't touch the cup. "What's the dream realm?" He couldn't stop staring at the dancers macabre.

"This is!" The triangle stretched out his arms—and stretched them, and stretched them, seeming to embrace all of reality at once. The Axolotl got the terrifying impression he was within the embrace too. "The realm of dreams! My realm! Paradise of color and light! Realm of spirits and muses!"

"It looks more like a nightmare."

"Do I come to your house and insult your wallpaper? Buzz off."

When the triangle dismissively floated away from him, the Axolotl again got the dizzying sensation that he was the one moving. The truth finally dawned on him:

The triangle, somehow, was literally the center of this universe. Point 0,0,0 on the cartesian plane of reality. Whenever he moved, Dimension Zero moved with him. When he backed away from the Axolotl, Dimension Zero backed with him, rushing past while the Axolotl held still.

And not once during their conversation did any of the millions of dead shapes stop dancing. 

"What are you doing?" the Axolotl asked, voice hushed.

"Partying," the triangle said. "We're having a party."

The Axolotl couldn't tear his eyes from the choreomaniacs' forced revelry. "How long have you been partying?"

"Uhh... pfff... I dunno, hard to keep track. A few months?" The triangle turned toward his tortured people. "Hey! How long have we been partying?"

One of the bodies mixed in amongst the dead, boogying deliriously, faintly cried back, "Time has no meaning and eternity has collapsed into a single unending moment of bliss!" (The Axolotl shuddered at the grotesque ventriloquism act.)

"Oh, yeah, right, forgot I decreed that. Thanks, pal!"

"You're welcome, oh wise and glorious Magister Mentium!"

The triangle turned back to the Axolotl. "An eternity."

The Axolotl tore his horrified eyes away from the dancers. "What about all the others?"

The triangle paused. "I don't know who you're talking about." The background radiation hissed in agitation.

The Axolotl very much suspected he did. "Your other people."

"There aren't any others," the triangle said defensively.

"There were! All of the other shapes around your world! All of the lives on other worlds! Where are all those people?!" He hoped that they might have gotten evacuated to a neighboring wall, or that they'd been concealed somehow, or even that they'd been collapsed together into the shapes he saw before him and could still be separated—

"It's fine," the triangle said stiffly. "Nothing important was lost."

"Nothing important?" the Axolotl repeated, shocked. "This was an entire dimension—!"

"A wall," the triangle said.

"A wall with lives on it—"

"Shadows."

"And do shadows not deserve to live?!"

The triangle flinched at the question as his good cheer crumbled. He didn't answer, but he gave the Axolotl a heavy, hard, emotionless look—a wretched, empty look—and the Axolotl knew he knew they did deserve to live.

"They don't matter," the triangle lied. "Nothing important was lost. Only the true believers and the worthy remain."

"Your dimension had billions of trillions of stars alone. All the people surrounding them—"

"I didn't see any stars!" He said it so vehemently—as though, if he didn't see them, they must not have existed. As though he refused to acknowledge their existence. "I told everyone about the third dimension, I told them we were going, they had their chance to join me!" His voice was shaking. As he spoke he grew larger, until he was as large as the Axolotl—or perhaps the universe had contracted around him. "And if they refused to join the liberation, then they are what we liberated ourselves from!" Distant bolts of lights flashed through Dimension Zero, responding to the triangle's outrage; the nearest stars blazed brighter for him. His dead people screamed in terror. They didn't stop dancing.

"You... tried to leave your dimension before the fire reached them?" Had he tried too late?

The triangle flinched again; his appearance flickered, like a TV that for a moment had picked up a pirate station broadcasting on the same frequency. The whispers hissing beneath the music grew more excited again, but the Axolotl still couldn't make out what they said beneath the party music.

The triangle said, "The... the fire came second."

"What came first?"

But he didn't answer. "Yeah, I brought them here." He spread his arms again, gesturing at the other shapes. "They followed me, and I freed them from our flat, restrictive dimension. They're all fine. And they all love me for saving them."

"Saving them?" he echoed. He wanted to laugh in disbelief, but it felt too much like laughing at a stranger's funeral. Laughing at an open mass grave. "But—everyone here is already dead. Even you." The triangle should be in an afterlife. Whatever afterlives his dimension once had, they were gone now. The Axolotl would have to help the triangle find one in another dimension—the paperwork alone would take time he didn't have to spare; he'd probably have to split off a timeline or two to squeeze it in...

The triangle snapped, "Whoa, hey, hey! Watch who you call dead, buddy! Look at me!" He stretched out his limbs, glowing dazzlingly bright. Brighter than a star. Even the Axolotl had to turn away from the blinding light. "I transcended my body! I'm made of pure energy! This is the most alive I've ever been!" A being of pure energy that had lost its physical form was the very definition of a ghost; but the Axolotl didn't have a chance to argue before the triangle went on, "And does anyone here look dead? Everyone's dancing! We're all having a great time, aren't we?" A few corpses groaned and gurgled in response.

If the triangle wanted to be a wandering ghost, fine. That was his prerogative. But he had no right to force the remains of his followers to deny their death with him. "Look—look at your people," the Axolotl commanded. "You're making them dance! You must know what state they're in!"

Without actually moving, the triangle had somehow become the space in between the Axolotl and his choreomaniacs, forming a sharp shield in between them. "You don't know what you're talking about. They're fine. They're immortal!"

The Axolotl gestured furiously past the triangle. "LOOK AT THEM!"

The triangle's gaze flickered toward them for a split second. The Axolotl saw guilt flashing in his eye; but then he squeezed his eye shut. "No, you look at them. Maybe it took me a little bit to get it right, but they're all great now."

To get it right? The Axolotl peered around the triangle at the shapes again, and only now saw that he was right.

Not all of them were dead.

Some were trapped in ecstatic trances; some were numb with terror; some were already long dead, and yet the corpses weren't being puppeted like he'd assumed—they danced under their own power. There were amalgams of a dozen, a hundred bodies fused together into shambling, gyrating horrors—but there was still life in their horrified eyes and their limbs twitched independently. The ones that were bleeding just kept bleeding and bleeding and bleeding, unending, blood never clotting nor running dry. The corpses and the comatose and the ailing and the bleeding dancing with the living that craved death.

The triangle was responsible for their condition?

He glided between the corpses, sliding his arms around a few of them. They kept dancing.  "I didn't quite get to a few of them in time, so I took the empty space where their souls used to be and filled them with an insatiable hunger to party," he said. "And look, they're good as new! Probably better than they were before, even!"

"These bodies should be laid to rest," the Axolotl said heatedly, "and the rest of you should be dead."

The triangle went still.

The Axolotl remembered, a second too late, that that was a perfectly normal thing to say to deceased clients and other gods in his line of work, but the kind of thing that scared the living daylights out of mortals.

"So that's a threat." His arms slid off the shapes; his fingers were stained with silvery blood that shimmered like static noise.

"No! No. But the condition that you're all in..."

"You'd better check yourself, frills," the triangle snapped. "You crash our party, in our eternal paradise, and start threatening us! Who the hell do you think you are, telling us we should be dead?!"

The Axolotl paused uneasily. "A fully licensed psychopomp...?"

"Well you'd better keep your psycho, pompous paws off my people!" The triangle blazed bright red, literally incandescent with rage. Some of his "people" slowly stopped dancing and turned their hollow eyes toward the Axolotl.

And the Axolotl couldn't say why, but he was suddenly sure he was in very grave danger.

He backed up from the triangle, moving in the direction that the edge of Dimension Zero should have been, although he was no longer sure whether it was still behind him. "I... think I should leave."

"I think you'd better."

He turned and fled. He couldn't explain his panic, but he felt in his bones like something was chasing him. He had to spend longer than he wanted searching for the edge of this bizarre reality—the triangle had turned and twisted and moved the borders so many times that he'd completely lost his bearings—spied the nearest exit, and darted for it between two unfinished planes of reality.

He thought he felt flames at his back.

The triangle's voice followed him out: "Next time, poop on somebody else's party!"

He tumbled through the membrane between the overbloated Dimension Zero and the higher dimensions with the relief of a suffocating fish escaping its net to plummet back into the water. He had to take a moment to reorient himself to his surroundings—time passing so that each moment took its turn and ended when it was over, space that felt like space rather than all distances collapsed in on themselves—and looked back at Dimension Zero.

The longer he stared into the kaleidoscopic miasma, the more sure he was that, no matter where he looked, right at the center of his field of view, he could always see a shining yellow fleck of triangular glitter.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I spoke out of emotion. I am glad that you—" well, "survived" wasn't the right word, "—still exist. And it was heroic of you to save as many people as you did. I shouldn't have said they shouldn't be alive; just..."

He felt like he could still see the shapes dancing in the corners of his eyes.

"... Just not alive like that."

####

Who was the triangle?

At their first meeting yesterday, it had been clear to the Axolotl that the triangle could see and perceive things off his wall while the rest of his people could not; he'd identified himself as "Magister Mentium" rather than by name; and he'd been surrounded by shapes, all turned toward him, listening: so perhaps he was a leader of some kind? He must have seen whatever destroyed their dimension coming and been able to use his position to evacuate a few people. The true believers and the worthy, he'd said—maybe his... congregation? Maybe he was a religious leader? At any rate, it was a miracle he'd saved as many people as he had with what must have been very short notice.

But... their forced dance... the bodies fused together... the living-who-should-be-dead bleeding and bleeding and bleeding without end...

The Axolotl didn't want to believe the triangle had any ill will. He reminded himself that he didn't know anything about his people or their culture. These shapes had been through something unimaginably traumatic. They'd watched an entire reality die; many of them were stuck in the process of dying in a place where they couldn't complete it. Any mortal would be insane with grief. Perhaps their magister was just leading them in some sort of cathartic dancing mania; perhaps this was how the shapes processed their grief. He hoped that was what it was. He hadn't gotten a chance to speak to the others—he didn't know how many could speak—but he had seen, for just a moment, how survivor's guilt ate at the triangle.

The storm cloud with the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force had said that every single living being from Dimension 2 Delta had been killed. Even the gods and the ghosts. So how had the triangle and his people survived?

And what were they doing here, in the singular heart of all reality?

And what had happened to their world?

####

(Hello, thanks for reading!! If you were lured in by the colorful art I laid out as bait and this is your first time here, welcome!! This is part 1 of a 5-or-6 part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna read more and learn the exciting answers to exciting questions like "Bill where in the good goddamn did you find a bunch of half-dead shapes??"

It's ALSO chapter 61 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out here. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: hey y'all remember when we had to skip over chapter 61 because it would've been posted like four days after TBOB came out and it needed MAJOR revisions? Well, here it is!! And also it's currently like six times longer than it was originally. We're gonna be hanging out with the Ax for like a month and a half, buckle up. 

Let me know what y'all think so far!!)

[reallyromealone]

Rome you know I'm gonna need a part 2 to that zoro x reader x sanji right cause I can't let that slide😊

Title: goodbye love

Fandom: one piece

Characters: Zoro, Sanji

Fic type: angst

Pairings: Zoro x sanji

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, angst, aggressive conversation, sad reader

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(name) hummed as he stocked bread in a small bakery, it had been five months since he left and he felt lighter and happier since the breakup. He was far from the island they docked from, getting a job easily at a bakery in a small coastal town.

Occasionally he wondered how his now ex boyfriends were, how they reacted to the letter... Were they sad? Angry? Did they even care? (Name) Didn't know and slowly stopped caring. He was starting fresh, leaving the pirate life to have something more domestic and stable though getting used to land was a bit tough.

"(Name), you work too much, go home early" the elderly bakery owner said softly, her cane tapping against the old wood with each step "are you sure? I don't mind being here" (name) asked her, (bakery owner) chuckled as she led him out "the rush is over, not many people will come today"

"Alright, but just get one of the kids to get me if it gets busy"

"Yes yes, now go!"

(Name) Chuckled as he was kicked out of the store, she was old but strong.

'with this extra time, might as well grab some stuff from the market' he thought as he went back to his place to grab some bags and coin, the walk calm and the gulls squawked as they flew overhead, the town was on the side of a huge hill, winding and full of turns, small but popular. It was perfect.

His apartment was small, he was surprised to have a one bedroom, a fireplace for cooking and even a bit of space for seating. His bed was the most expensive thing he owned, he saw it at the market and immediately got it. It was a futon, comfiest thing he ever slept on and he even got pillows. It was pricy but thankfully he had a fair amount of coin from his previous employment.

He only slept on wood or a hammock.

It was a nice adjustment.

The market was the biggest thing beside the town square, many vendors and travellers in and out selling everything and anything one could need.

(Name) Loved getting fruits from other places, one a trip as a treat for himself, today he got something called an apple, typically he's used to mango and jackfruit on this island so it was a nice change.

(Name) Made a few purchases, important house things and a few little trinkets for himself.

A book from a far away land.

An apple.

Some sewing needles and thread as he wished to learn to sew better.

And finally, a little music box.

It was nothing fancy but the sound it played reminded him of childhood, his mother would hum a tune quite similar to it.

What he didn't expect to see was a familiar boat.

"Shit" (name) immediately rushed home, he wasn't ready to face anything at the moment and definitely not with how he left.

(Name) Was shaking as he got inside, glancing out the window of his apartment to see if they are close to his home, irrational be knew but he had to check. Thankfully the street just had a few passersby and no strawhats. He would have to avoid anywhere that sold alcohol for a while, most restaurants and thankfully he was off for the next few days so he didn't have to go to the bakery. (Name) Looked at his collection of books and the sewing supplies and sighed happily.

Guess he has to stay inside and do the things he enjoy.

What a shame.

(Name) Spent the day doing his hobbies as a tiny radio played music in the corner, thankfully this small town had a radio station so he could enjoy some sound.

Knock knock knock.

(Name) Was engrossed in his quilt as he looked up curiously, setting his project down to go down to answer the door, a staircase down to the front door "hello (name), I thought you would enjoy some bread" his boss said kindly and handed him a basket of breads and a few muffins "ah thanks boss, that's real kind of you" the two made small talk casually, the elderly woman happy he's starting a new project "I have some sewing supplies at my home, I'm to old to use them but you can have them" the woman ushered him to follow and (name) realized he would have to leave his house.

Shit.

Silently begrudgingly he followed her, the woman excited to have someone take the supplies.

Then he smelt it half way to the bakery, cigarettes and fresh made food.

"(Name)?" He didn't turn around as his boss looked back curious, Sanji staring at his ex in awe.

(Name) Looked different.

Glowing, lighter and most of all; happier.

(Name) Turned to see his ex and sighed "hello Sanji" this is why he didn't want to go outside, his ex boyfriend looking hurt at the lack of sweet names for him, stopping closer he saw the uncomfortable expression wash over him "Luffy is gone to go get some food, have you.... (Name)" Zoro halted, staring at (name) like salvation.

(Name) Was startled at how awful the two looked, like they barely slept and sanji looked almost dead inside "can we talk?" His voice gravelly with exhaustion and (name) looked to his boss who smiled "we can talk later, you do what you need to do"

And that's how (name) ended up with the two in his apartment "So what do you guys want" (name) said less of a question and more of a demand, clearly uncomfortable "seems you settled down nice" Zoro commented as he looked at the homey space "I have" (name) stared at them unimpressed "why did you leave?" Sanji finally spoke up and the room grew more tense.

"I couldn't stay any longer, not with you two"

"Why?!" Zoro snapped and (name) had enough "because you two didn't care!" (Name) Fired back angrily "you two acted like I didn't exist! Flirting with women and ignoring me to do anything else! Who in their right mind WOULD WANT THAT! DID YOU EVEN LOVE ME?!"

It was silent as (name) heaved out a dog "I gave you two everything! And I get cheating and neglect!"

The two pirates barely had time to react as (name) lost his shit on them "why didn't you love me?" (Name) Finally asked, shaking and angry "why was it never me? You two showed more love to women and fucking swords than me!"

"I-im sorry..." Sanji whispered and (name) looked him in the eye "then why did you look at Nami in a way that you could never look at me?"

Zoro fidgeted, knowing he was next and in a rare moment... He was nervous.

"And why was I not worth spending time with?" There it was "you come here demanding to speak with me yet the time we dated you couldn't even be bothered to do the most basic of things with me"

"(Name)--"" I think you two should leave" (name) finally said "I have no interest in this conversation anymore... Goodbye "

"(Name) Come on-"" leave now, I'm begging you"

The two sorrowfully walk down the stairs, unable to get a word in as the door slammed behind them.

And at that moment they truly realized.

They lost (name).

[death---dealer]

Hiii! Fan of your work (especially the Noa fics they are to die for omg). I remember you wrote something about the reader jumping in the river after a fight with Noa cuz chimps can’t swim that deep. It would be cool and funny to see a full on head cannon about that! Looking forward to all ur future works!

I'm giving the people what they want, MOM.

Title: Waterworks. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: K. ( FLUFFY with some good banter from the sunset trio BABY we need more of that. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 2.1K+ Summary: Did you know that Chimpanzees cannot swim at depths? Shallow water is good, but due to low-body fat ratio, they'd sink in deeper waters. At least you had that in your mind when you needed to get some space. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

Noa paced relentlessly at the crest shoreline which was lapping white small delectations between the hardened pebbles below. His green eyes were focused on something drifting in the water, falling and rising as the river drove through the landscape with pure determination to make itself known for miles upon miles. Grumbling deep inside of his chest, he shouted nothing of sustenance and still… The floating object did not bend to his will as he so wished it would, instead, it stubbornly stayed where it was with the help of arms, waving up and down against the current as to not be taken downstream.

He hated this - this thing that only you did, knowing to your very core that it was something that sent him flying off the rails of annoyance. Noa hadn’t meant to say what he said when you had asked him his opinion on something. Looking back at it now as he ventured towards the water more fervently on all fours, only wadding until his hands and ankles were encased with water, before drifting back to the sandy embankment, he had no idea what the intended argument was about. For all the male Ape knew, it was nothing truly contentious and he happened to capture you in one of those rare moods where all you wanted to do was pick apart the aspects of his words in search of a fight.

You had only asked his opinion on a necklace that you were working on, a gift for another Ape of the clan who had the courtesy to help you get wood for the fire that was inside of your hut, something Noa often did but he was indisposed the moment you needed it, so you did what you needed to do. He gave his honest opinion. The detailing wasn’t even - that’s all that was said, and in the flurrying of the moment, he recalled you saying a few things, some in defense, some in offense. There may or may not have been some speckling from Noa’s side that just spurred the heated flames.

He brought up this other Ape - rather aggressively making accusations that were simply not true, and even though he knew them to be, he still said them anyway. ‘Maybe you should go show your new friend your… your ugly necklace’ seemed to be the nail in the coffin for you and the piece of jewelry in your hand slammed onto the work bench that you had, your legs rising and trailing off in a blaze. The entire moment left Noa remarkably slack-jawed at your reaction, even more so at the audacity at his words.

Noa was quick to follow you, refusing to yell for you as you made your way through the village and then began stripping yourself of your clothes. His eyes widened at that for a moment, lingering on the delicate nature of your skin and how it shone in the sun, but it was all torn away when you turned to look at him, your eyes so flushed with animosity before you turned back around and dipped into the water, quicker than he had wanted, knowing the water was cold and it probably came as a shock to your bare body. It didn't stop you off though - you proceeded. With each stroke, you were getting more and more out of Noa’s grasp. Unless he wanted to drown himself, there was no way to actually follow you in.

Most of the time, it was easy to brush them off, and you’d apologize to each other for the brief mis-understanding and come to some mutual agreement. That happened approximately 99.9% of the time. The other floating percentage was reserved for these very moments where Noa was left dry, and you were submerged, on your back so even his words couldn’t reach you past the barrier of water around your eardrums. This time seemed to be sparked by unintended jealousy from the Eagle Clan leader, something he ardently tried to deny feeling, but it was ultimately always there, hanging at the back of his head like an arrow had been embedded there.

“You cannot stay out there forever!”

His voice was muffled to your ears as you raised one of your hands in a simple ‘thumbs-up’ action. Noa scoffed at that, narrowing his eyes at the action as he turned towards the trees and then back forward again. He sensed Anaya and Soona before they even made an appearance, their smells eradicating to Noa as he ventured they were going to ask what was happening. Instead of letting the question float around, Noa’s fiery gaze hit Anaya first, “She is… angry! Won’t come out of water,” He growled again, bringing a fist up and then back down on the ground in intense aggravation, “She does this to me! Every time!” A lie, but it was making himself look better in front of his friends.

Anaya’s green and golden eyes caught hold of you in the water, sharing a glance with Soona before they both hooted out a small laugh at Noa’s infuriation. “What… did you say to get so mad?”

Soona floated forward towards the water, feeling it tickle at her knuckles when she called your name.

“No point, Soona, she will not come back,” Noa huffed, “Only when she is ready, not angry at Noa anymore.”

Anaya pressed onwards, “S… Seriously, what did Noa say?” His gaze flittered backwards towards you again, watching as Soona tried to bargain with you, but to no avail and she returned, defeated to stand next to the other two Apes.

Noa hesitated - it was obvious that his words were not appropriate and he acted out in a rage of unfit jealousy. He knew that Anaya and Soona would be able to recognize that and they’d end up on your side. He weighed the discomfort of lying to his friends to the absolute chaos that would ensue if he just told them what happened. Sighing, his shoulders rose and then fell in complete defeat, “Told her… Necklace was ugly.” Soona’s mouth opened at that, Anaya tilting his head, “She asked… my opinion… Told her, it was ugly. Accused her of… liking… Another.”

There was a blanketed silence between the three of them. Anaya, completely flabbergasted at Noa’s ability to say the wrong things at the wrong time, and Soona, shocked, but not as much as Anaya. She moved forward, placing a hand at the back of Noa’s head and for a moment, he thought that she was going to bring him in for a forehead grazing that said ‘I’m on your side’. Instead, all Noa got was Soona digging her fingers into the muscles of Noa’s neck, causing the larger of the two to stagger and hiss out of ache that the action caused.

“You… are so… childish!” She finally spoke, “You would not tell Ape that, why tell Echo?”

Noa grappled, “She… deserves the… truth.” He was brought to his knees by Soona’s grasp getting more aggressive, Anaya cheering her on with his arms and a few wild hoo’s and huffs coming from his mouth at the amusement of the situation.

“Not when it hurts feelings!” Soona snapped at him and released his neck. Noa faltered, falling face down onto the ground below, proceeding to roll onto his back with a groan. “Stupid Noa! Why think she wants another? Are… are you that blind to see?”

“Stupid, stupid.” Anaya responded and looked down at Noa with laughter seeping from every pore. “Now… Echo won’t come out to hear Noa's apology… and Noa has to… beg…”

Anaya fell onto his knees and crawled towards Noa with outstretched hands, “Has to beg forgiveness from Echo. Please,” He wailed his arms rather dramatically. “Forgive Noa, I am… just stupid Ape.” The voice Anaya displayed sounded nothing like Noa, but Soona found it funny and chided out a laugh.

“Will not… help you get her out,” Soona declared, Anaya nodding in agreement, “Your problem, only, Noa. Should know better. How to talk to… females.”

Anaya looked at Soona and then to Noa, “Different, very sensitive.”

Soona gasped at that, smacking Anaya’s arm with her open palm, “What is that… supposed to mean!?”

As another argument took hold between those two, Noa glanced back out at the river and watched as the water flapped against your body, causing small ripples of waves to encase around your extremities.

“(NAME)!” He hadn’t meant for that to be so loud and ripping, cradled around the edges with a primal guttural growl. Even through the thick water, you were able to hear it and it spurred you finally to roll off of your back.

“What?!” finally snapping at him, you kept your balance in the water by the swing of your legs and hands in tandem with the small current.

“Please, come back to shore,” Noa pleaded, though his voice was still carrying moments of irritation, “Cannot come get you if something happens.” Noa always knew what to say to get you to come to him and he just prayed to the highest Elders that his words were enough to get you to consider. “Please.”

“No!” Growling again, he paced towards the water at your response.

“Please?”

“Let me think about that--- No!”

Anaya spoke up, finally tumbling from the heated argument he and Soona were ranting about, “Anaya want to know about this other Ape! Are they… As handsome as Noa? As big? Good provider?”

Groaning, you floated a bit towards them and looked at Soona, the most understanding of the bunch. You were swimming now on your stomach, not wanting to come out due to the pile of your clothing sitting near Noa and the fact that you were otherwise bare in the water and Anaya and Soona would see if you veered towards them on your legs. “I’m not mad about that.”

“Is she…”

“Yes.” Soona confirmed it to Anaya before the question even got out. “Naked.”

His eyebrows raised in mild interest and the daggers that Noa flew his way sent Anaya backwards and pacing towards Soona in some hope that she’d protect him if Noa went for his neck.

“What are you mad at?” Noa inquired, a bit more soft now that he was getting more context into your unfurling anger.

“You called my necklace ugly.”

Noa groaned again, this time a bit more loud and rolled his neck, indicative to you that he was actually rolling his eyes. “That should not matter!”

“Your opinion matters to me!”

Noa fell quiet, almost deathly so as Soona and Anaya looked between you in the water, and Noa on the shore, only drifting into the shallow depths to the point where his forearms and lower legs were drowning. His green eyes, even from the distance you were holding yourself at, were vivid and bright as they bore right into your own. “What?”

“I care more about your opinion,” Now on the verge of tears, you cursed your swinging emotions and sniffled quietly, “You called my work ugly.”

Noa sat - directly into the water below him and just stared at you, the way that the water was hitting your cheeks, the way you were bobbing with buoyancy. He just wanted you to come a little bit closer, wishing desperately at this time that he had a net he could cast and catch you like a fish. Noa tilted his head at that. It would not go well, he imagined, and you would probably get your arms and legs stuck.

His mouth opened but it felt suddenly dry, and drinking the river water would only make it worse, it seemed. The admittance of what he needed to say was not something favorable to say in front of his friends. But, unless he went for it, he was going to spend the rest of the afternoon, and probably part of the evening, waiting for you to come out completely to talk to him.

“I said… that because…” His voice deepened, ratting more with a baritone than you were used to, as if what was about to say was a secret. “I did not want you to… give that other… Ape a gift…” Noa could have sworn he heard Anaya mumble a soft ‘I knew it’ as you tucked close to your mate, still encasing yourself in the water to keep your privacy.

“Why not?”

The sound that ripped out of Noa was nothing less than shocking as he stood on his feet, making a circle around like he was dancing before he quite literally glared down at you. You were doing this on purpose, there was no other reason.

“You know why.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

As the two of you went back and forth, Soona tilted her head towards Anaya, “How long… Do you think they will do this?” Struggling his shoulders, Anaya fell back to sit and pulled Soona down with him to watch the rest of this play out.

��Do not know, but I think Echo will win.” Anaya commented haphazardly.

Soona laughed, “Why is that?”

“Noa is… a push over.”

[alchemistc]

Tommy had a younger sister. Eight years apart, Tommy knows intimately what it's like to be the main caretaker to a little girl with a dead mom and a shitty dad.

He'll give the Buckley parents props for at least trying, later on down the line. He hasn't spoken to his dad in years. But he sees the look Maddie gets sometimes, the quiet little corner she retreats to when the Saturday Night title fight is Evan v Margaret and Phillip, and he knows that space, the cavernous echo: could I have done more? and this was never supposed to be my job and will I make this worse or better if I intervene? what raw nerves will I expose if I cut open my wrists to fertilize this soil?

They were good at hiding it, for a while. Evan on his okayest behavior, Margaret and Phillip refusing to rise to any bait like the polite suburban family they were - the kind that would move their grieving child across state lines and force her to keep a secret for decades so that she could never move on from it.

(He's been angry for Evan for years, now, but he's been angry for Maddie too, for himself, for the fucked up things you can never quite prepare for the people that gave you life do to you.)

He had a sister.

And she was bright, and beautiful, and full of laughter and love even when Dad couldn't be fucked to sign her permission slips (Tommy can still forge his father's signature, has it down more precisely than even his own) or buy her a new pair of shoes when the soles broke free and they pinched her toes in tight.

He had a sister. She'd been pissed at him, ten years old and landing brutal kicks to his shins the day before he left for training. She'd been pissed at him, sixteen and quietly sullen over the phone when he told her he was staying in LA. She'd been pissed at him, twenty-two and rudderless while he let her crash on his couch for six months in the shoe-box loft he'd called home.

And she'd loved him. God, she'd loved him. Idolized him: learned football and baseball just to be able to talk to him about the few interests he'd had that his father hadn't dismissed out of hand; always at his hip when he slapped together Kraft Mac and Cheese for dinner and snuck her lunch money at the end of the week when the groceries had dwindled.

He hasn't talked to his sister in years, either.

Maddie tucks herself into the space to his right, glances out over the lawn where Tommy has been sneaking the third cigarette he's allowed himself in the last ten years. She shifts her weight, watches the cherry bloom in the low dusk light. "You gonna share?"

Tommy tips his head to look at her. Digs into his chest pocket for the Reds he'd bought two days before the Buckley parents descended on LA for the wedding.

Maddie's an old pro, apparently, fingers comfortably slack as she lifts the offering to her mouth, glances at him for a light.

The lighter is ancient, still has a snippet of his grandfather's favorite poem etched into the sidewall, though it's worn down and hard to read. The metallic clink of opening and closing the lid, spark igniting on butane with a flick of his thumb, had gotten him through some of his worst nights in Afghanistan. Maddie sucks against the filter and the flame catches thin paper and packed tobacco.

She grimaces at the taste, but pulls, waits, blows smoke out her nose.

"You'd think the Buckley Bowl would calm down after the twentieth rematch," she remarks. She's white-knuckling the railing with her free hand.

"Your dad's gonna come out here in ten minutes wanting to shoot the shit about the Pirates July slump like he didn't accidentally imply he'd have preferred me for a son at brunch yesterday."

Maddie sighs. "They're not always like this. I - You've seen them. I just think. I think my first wedding was a brawl and my second didn't happen as planned and Buck hasn't given them any leeway to throw around their opinions and..."

"You don't have to defend them, you know," Tommy says, and - he's not as close with Maddie as he'd like, but they've talked about it, a little. How lucky she is that Evan hadn't ever lost faith in her, how lucky Evan is to have always had her in his corner. How unfair it had all been. "Not to me."

Maddie's lashes are wet, the corners of her eyes glistening. "They shouldn't do this. Every time, they do this."

"Well, the wedding does come with a devilishly handsome new ally against them," he reminds her, and her laugh is a little soggy, but her eyes sparkle as she takes him in. She takes a drag, does a piss poor job of trying to blow smoke rings. Her hand is tiny when it drifts over his forearm and squeezes.

"Well, soldier, I think we're the cavalry."

Tommy butts out his cigarette into the solo cup he'd set out next to the Adirondacks, an hour after he'd bought the pack, holds it out for Maddie to do the same. Her smile is still a little wet, but it's just as lovely as her. Tommy makes a note to hug her extra hard before she leaves at the end of the night.

"Once more unto the breach," Tommy quotes, and slides the patio door open to let her take point.

[myobsessionsspace]

Hello! Now that we've seen all eight episodes and Jimin and JK didn't take a single opportunity to "bro" up their relationship, no "when we get married to women I hope we're still friends" conversation, do you think AYS was a soft launch? Or did it just feel like one because that's the natural by-product of seeing Jimin and JK together without (much) third party interference?

Hi lovely,

Thank you for sending this in.

I haven’t done any write ups on my feelings after each episode like many have. There’s been much said that I agree with, so Ididn’t really have anything new to add.

Tbh I’ve done a Masterlist for all things AYS also including the write ups of 2 bloggers here that I pretty much agreed and enjoyed their write ups. Both @akookminsupporter and @jmdbjk (thank you two again for agreeing to have your posts linked🥹)

Do I think the show was a soft launch? Sort answer no. Long answer mmmm no?lol😅🙈

⚠️Looooonnnnnnngggg essay of an answer incoming⚠️

I think with this show and all that it has around it has to be looked at through the eyes of Koreans and the type of shows they have in Korea. How the ‘bromance’ genre is generally accepted and the types of shows celebs and idols do in Korea.

Did you know many idol groups do RUN BTS! like shows, In The Soop and Bon Voyage like shows, shows where they become parents for a period of time to kids, shows where they get ‘married’ etc. Koreans see celebs and everything they do as entertainment for them. Two idols from a group of 7 travelling ‘alone’ sure, bromance, sure something BTS hasn’t done before but…

Tbh it’s not that unique. It’s not that outlandish.

I posted this previously

Close friends and famous actors going on a trip to Jeju, meeting with other friends and fishing together.

Tbh people may not view the show the same way that jikookers are. Jikookers have the added knowledge of everything in Jikook spaces that have previously been highlighted. So we see the inside jokes and know that this just adds to the long saga of Jikook and inside jokes, we see the hyung/dongsaeng dynamic get flipped on its head and we add it to the years long knowledge we have of Jikook and their unique bond.

I think there was some ‘bro’ energy. To be honest above anything else they’re goofballs and dudes. For as much tenderness as there was, there were ‘bro’ moments too, they are BFFs and young men after all. I think the show served different things for different viewers.

For casual viewers, those who know of BTS and we’re just interested in watching BTS content. Cos let’s be real, this isn’t a show you just are channel surfing and happen across. You have to search for this show, know of its existence, be recommended it or have been waiting to watch it. For those casual viewers, maybe or maybe not identifying as army, the show was just a fun, more adult, more slow paced BTS show. With two members that after watching the show, the viewer now realises are close close friends with more of a chingu friendship and would be shocked that it’s actual a hyung and dongsaeng (if they didn’t already know).

For these reactors, they kept verbalising ‘how close’ Jikook must be ‘good friends’ ‘close friends’ and ‘cute’. (click here if you want to check out the full thread on twit/x)

For army watching it, again it’s just to them, an opportunity to watch more BTS content. To enjoy the members travelling, eating and having fun, more of the in the Soop/Bon voyage that they’re familiar with. More of the skinship, playful, one big happy family that army know BTS to be.

A paraphrased collection of what was seen from army on twit/x

Jikookers having the time of our lives with all the tender and also sus af moments.

For Jikook shippers, the show is just a reaffirmation of what they already felt they knew about Jikook. More of an opportunity to see Jikook’s dynamic that they saw in bits and pieces from lives, fan cams, Bangtan bombs, memories and other BTS shows.

The show tbh isn’t really earth shattering in unveiling anything about Jikook to any of the demographics mentioned above casual fans, army or jikookers.

Depending on what sub group a viewer fits into, their perception of the show fits that.

I don’t think anyone really honestly, apart from exuberant jikookers truly think this show is Jikook’s soft launch.

I think by Korean standards the show isn’t outlandishly gay.

It’s got sus moments here and there like the majority of Bangtan content has had over the years. But on the whole, it is content that other groups have done in one way or another, other celebrities have done, were yes they do tease and flirt and joke about the ‘homoerotic’ atmosphere some setting bring, but due to the dominating culture of homophobia, none really honestly mean it or believe it to be gay or involving actual gay people. I don’t know if that makes sense what I’m trying to say?

I’ve written thoughts before on the show, how it made sense for it to happen for Jikook, how it’s not so out there for them to be filming a duo trip etc.

Musings

Thoughts

Pondering

👤“Everything comes back to GCF with you Jikooker🙄”

Me: Yes, Yes it does 💅

If you’ve got this far in the answer trust me, bare with me I’m going somewhere with this, it’s not just another opportunity to gush about GCFs😅🙈

Remember that Jimin loves travelling with Jungkook, he loved being GCF’s main model (no matter how embarrassed JK was at Jimin verbalising it to be the case and his denials😂)

Jimin made his little vlog of their Tokyo trip before he knew the kind of production Jungkook was making himself with his first ever GCF. They’ve always like travelling together and always like sharing it with army. They just didn’t have much opportunity.

Jungkook tweeting this whilst editing GCF Saipan.

Namjoon tweeting this whilst they were in Saipan.

What is AYS then?!!

I think AYS was just a matured continuation of Jikook jikooking. Their numerous selcas they’d share on twitter, their joint YouTube logs they’d do in the beginning, their back and forths they’d have on weverse every now and again.

This show was to me, I think, is just Jikook reaffirming everything they’ve always shown about themselves to army, that’s they’re intertwined, how many times have they said they are ‘you are me and I am you’.

They couldn’t do a subunit together, they had no time to do a cover song together, something I’m sure they would have loved to do in chapter two.

I just feel like they wanted to do something together in chapter two, because since the beginning of their careers, they’ve always made sure they carved out something within that highlighted the two of them. That was for the two of them.

Everyone had their own documentaries, appearances on shows or their own YouTube shows etc. Jikook too had their own docs, but they were the only to have their own show for the two of them.

I don’t think the show was a soft launch. I do think the show was another part in the long history of Jikook showing us, rather than telling us, they’re never to be divided. That the other is their source of joy, happiness and home and wherever they start, they’ll always end it with the other. Like we noticed FACE ended with Letter feat. Jungkook, Jimin’s doc ended with Jungkook, Jungkook’s doc ended with Jimin, they ended their free time travelling with each other before enlistment together and they ended their solo releases with Are You Sure?! capping it all off. Their show playing their solo songs whilst showing the two meeting together after it all.

That’s what I got from the show.

If the show was a soft launch, then enlisting together, their portions in their autobiography, their section in their monument’s documentary, GCF Tokyo…all those were soft launches too

Ultimately I think Jikook are intent on making one thing clear. Not the romantic state of their relationship. But the importantance of it full stop.

That they are important to each other AND the closest to each other. Anything else they aren’t (to me) addressing. But they are with this show and with every stage in their career, making sure it’s known that Jimin is of the utmost importance to Jungkook and Jungkook is of the utmost importance to Jimin.

Since the beginning

Thank you for this ask lovely. I don’t know if it was the answer you wanted but it’s what makes sense to me.

Thank you for anyone else that made it through this huge answer in its entirety 😩

It’d be great if anyone else wanted to give their view on this so we’re can share and discuss

💜

[cauliflowercounty]

Knives Dance (Part III)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

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

Baron Feyd missing you + heartfelt reunion 

Feyd being totally infatuated with you

SCIENCE!!! and POLITICS!!!

Rabban being pitiful

Reader being a badass

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

Warnings: Violence, blood, death (woohoo)

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

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

Part I | Part II | Part III

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mad?!” the emperor says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-- 

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

Also is it obvious I study chemistry yet?

Taglist:

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

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

[togetherhearted]

Could I request Nikola, Qin Shi Huang and Hades with a s/o that's from another universe :D? she can travel through universes and can collect the history of the universe in her books/scrolls and write something to change it and erase things to remove them from history/the future

Sorry if this requests is kinda cringey, but I'm sort of a nerd for space :)

Naaaah,you're not cringe come on! It's a love that you have. Nothing wrong with it!

I took some freedom to change a couple of things. But the core is the same. Hoping it's still ok

NIKOLA,QIN AND HADES WITH A UNIVERSE TRAVELER S/O

Nothing was better that landing inside what it looked like a lab. Your eyes scanned projects, blackboards, all full of formulas. The twinkle in your eyes brightening up at all you could take with yourself. It was time to hide though, footsteps echoed in the corridor. You flinched and tried to hide in time but those steps were fast to come. The door slammed open and you were caught;projects under your arms. There was silence between the two of you. tThe tall man noticed the warp behind you, then looked better at you, at what you were wearing. -Are you perhaps?- He started -F-from the future?!- He shouted with enthusiasm. -I..uhhh- -Oh no, no. Don't tell me. I'll figure it out!- You watched him circling you, a smile on his face, muttering about science. Was this the sign to flee? As he kept circling around you you smiled amused;no matter the universe Nikola Tesla was Nikola Tesla,your over excited lover.

Where did you land this time? Judging by how comfy you were it was probably a cushion;no wait,too big to be just pillows. As per always you didn't recognize the place, warping from the past to future and vice versa was still troublesomea nd let's not talk about universes jumps.  You hopped from what happened to be a bed; your figure searching for something to take away with you. Though your lookout was stopped once you heard a male voice from behind. -Looking for something?- Your head snapped at the young man. The blood washing away your face as you recognized the first China emperor. -Oh no no...I was...- Words died in your throat as he walked towards you with confident steps. He didn't seem that pleased to have visitors. Only one solution was possible;warping again but this time without a single piece of paper. Mission failed. Time to go to the Qin of your universe.

Another day, another jump between the fabric of times and reality. Where were you this time?And why did it look so dark? Luckily you always had a backup plan. You lit up a light and walked down a narrowed corridor. You entered a room. A man was hunched on a desk,his mind seemingly too focused on what he had under his nose to even notice your entrance. This was risky but you liked the risk and your mission was worth it. You took little steps towards the pile of books on the corner. You just had to take a look at the covers, grab one and warp away. You were now close enough to read the titles when a hand grabbed your wrist. -So, you wanted to steal from the king of the underworld...- His deep voice gave you the chills. That was the place you warped in;Hades domain and he didn't look happy to see you,of course he wasn't;he wasn't your lover here. You were in big trouble now.

[gryphonlover]

Linked Universe AU Directory

Anyway, I didn't put every single AU on this thing. I do not have the time and energy for that because there's over 600 LU works tagged as alternate universes on Ao3. I did follow some general guidelines when I was deciding which works to add, the most important one being that the AU had to be more than just canon divergence and had to affect all the characters equally. Feel free to add onto this post, if you think something is missing.

Link to the Ao3 Collection

Age Swap | Age Shuffle AU

Apocalypse - Unspecified | Brothers In Arms

Apocalypse - Zombies | Autolysis

Apocalypse - Zombies | LU Zombie AU

Fae | Across the River

Fae | Flower Garden

Fae | From Open Seas, to Dark Tangled Depths

Folklore | If You Thought This Was Gonna Have a Cool Title, You Obviously Don't Know Me

Fusion - Alice's Adventures in Wonderland | Hyrule's Adventures in Wonderland

Fusion - Among Us | Good Riddance

Fusion - Atlantis: The Lost Empire | The Sage's Journal

Fusion - Big Hero 6 | Fierce Hero 9

Fusion - Captain America: Civil War | United We Stand, Divided We Fall

Fusion - Dungeons & Dragons | LU x DnD Crossover

Fusion - Full House | Full House AU

Fusion - Lethal Company | Linked Company AU

Fusion - Lethal Company | Linked Universe AU: Lethal Company

Fusion - Mad Max | And the World Ends Again

Fusion - Monstrous Regiment | Linked Regiment

Fusion - Nailed It! | You Really Nailed it Right There, Buddy!

Fusion - Pokémon | LU Pokémon AU

Fusion - Pride and Prejudice | Pride and Prejudice but it's a Fair-Play Whodunnit

Fusion - Tangled | LU Tangled AU

Fusion - The Hunger Games | LU Hunger Games AU

Fusion - The Incredibles | Linked Universe Incredibles AU

Fusion - The Secret World of Arrietty | The Secret World of Wild and Twilight

Fusion - Spirited Away | One Summer's Day

Fusion - Star Wars | Tales of Courage from Across the Galaxy

Fusion - Warrior Cats | Faronclan AU

Gods & Goddesses | And the Universe Said "I Love You"

Heist | Heist AU

Historical - 1800s | City of Light and Dark

Historical - Supernatural | 1931

Science Fiction - Space Crew | Linked Nexus

Mermaids | Flared Fins

Miscellaneous - Disability | Shatterproof

Miscellaneous - Intrigue | Castle Intrigue

Miscellaneous - Magic | We Could be Immortals

Miscellaneous - Unspecified | Eyes Wide Open

Miscellaneous - Unspecified | Manus Lupus

Modern | Adoption AU

Modern | Good Enough

Modern | In the Heart of Hyrule

Modern | LU Modern AU

Modern | Modern Zeldas AU

Modern | Ranch House AU

Modern | The Many Realities of the Hero Spirit and Modern Living

Modern | The Roadtrip AU

Modern | The Weather Outside is Frightful

Modern - Actors | Linked Universe Actor AU

Modern - Coffeeshop/Café | Looking for Group

Modern - College/University | All You Need to Know

Modern - College/University | Linked University

Modern - College/University | Oh No, They're Theater Kids Now

Modern - College/University | RIP

Modern - Emergency Services | Of Officers and Stuffed Elephants

Modern - Farm | Fresh from the Farm

Modern - Ghost Hunters | A Haunting in Hyrule

Modern - Healthcare | How to Save a Life

Modern - Healthcare | LU in Healthcare

Modern - Magic | Everything but Blood

Modern - Magic | Family is Made of...

Modern - Magic | Maybe Human 

Modern - Magic | Summer Camp Lon!

Modern - Magic | The Chain that Binds Us

Modern - Magic | Wild's Magic Shop AU

Modern - Monsters | Here There Be Monsters

Modern - Movie Theater | There's a Remlit... Loose in the Theater!

Modern - Music Camp | Linked Repertoire

Modern - Newsroom | BSX: Hyrule SatellaNews

Modern - Newsroom | Professions and Professionals

Modern - Office | Linked Corporations

Modern - Opera | Opera House AU

Modern - Retail | The Hot Topic Debate

Modern - Retail | What Goes Down at Festival Foods

Monsters | Seelies and Selkies

Murder Mystery | How to Kill a God

Post-Nuclear War | Chain Reaction

Royalty | Every Other Star

Royalty | I'll Be There

Royalty | Royal Links AU

Royalty | Lost Prince AU Part 1 & Lost Prince AU Part 2

Soulmates - Platonic | Marks on Your Body, Marks on Your Soul

Soulmates - Romantic | Castle Town Coffee Shop

Vigilantes | Empty Streets Full of Life

Vigilantes | We Will Find You, Wherever You Are

Wings | Four's a Dad!?

Wings | Wings AU

Wings | Wing Bois

[envysarchive]

like your steelo

pairing: billy butcher x fem!reader, frenchie x fem!reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: you’ve been seeing both men regularly at the club, and they were seeing you too. it was long overdue you did something about it. title from steelo by 702

warnings: smut +18 MDNI, mentions of drinking, sex without protection (this is fiction, please cover the friendly stick!) oral sex (f + r receiving), penetration (r receiving), praise, a bit of degradation if you squint, not proofread. 

a/n: alr so first thing i post since i deleted everything i’m sorry i was just wayy too busy to write. also please help how the fuck do i conclude a smut piece????

masterlist. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁inbox

Billy took a drag on the cigar he was holding between his fingers, and then released all the smoke he had obtained.

Both him and Fenchie were watching you dance from the other side of the bar. They had talked to you a few times, and the flirtatious looks you gave them both was the torture they received in exchange. They knew your name and age, but other than that, the only thing they received were glances and small, discreet, slightly suggestive touches.

"So, who is going to take the first step? " Frenchie questioned, in a low tone so that only Butcher could hear him.

"You" he responded, without even thinking about it. Frenchie quickly denied.

"Haven't flirted with a lady in years. It should be you. You have more experience."

"If I do it, I ain’t gonna include you in my proposal" Butcher shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't stop watching you, from top to bottom, dancing with your friends while passing a shot of tequila like water.

Billy took another drag from his cigar, and was distracted as he played with the lighter. Suddenly, a soft hand rested on his shoulder, and then on Frenchie's too. You made your way between them to call the woman on the other side of the bar and order another round for your group of friends. When you finally finished ordering, you looked at the two men there, who were staring at you without any discretion.

"How is your night going? " you questioned, disguising the flirtation with kindness.

"Not as good as yours" Billy responded, turning his eyes away from yours. The closeness with those two men made you give in more and more to the lustful thoughts you'd been having lately.

"I think I can do a little something to improve your night" An expression full of interest appeared on both of their faces, and that satisfied your wishes. You leaned closer to Billy's ear, "Room 236. In 10 minutes. Bring the french guy too." You finished speaking, and after giving Frenchie a small glance, you retreated to go up to the room you had reserved exclusively for tonight.

You waited only two minutes, and then, several knocks on the door made you feel more nervous than you already were. You took a deep breath, and opened the door to meet the two men you had been almost fantasizing about.

They both entered after you let them do so. The door was padlocked, and two pairs of eyes were completely scanning your body.

"So if I understood correctly, I imagine ye want a threesum with us luv, ain't that right?" Butcher asked, gifting you a grin in the process.

"Yeah, I suppose you are," you declared.

Taking slow steps, Billy started to approach you, placing his hand on your cheek. Your eyes were staring at him as Frenchie watched expectantly.

Butcher ran one of his thumbs over your lips, stroking gently. His gaze was filled with need. "May I?" he asked. You broke the space between both of you, and launched yourself at his lips.

Billy's hands rested on your hips as you stretched one of your hands to reach Frenchie's face. A devious smile appeared on his face when you separated from Butcher, looking at him carefully, as if reviewing each and every one of his features.

You grabbed Frenchie by the chin, and brought him closer ultimately smashing your lips together in a wild kiss. Frenchie's hands were on your face, while Billy's were on your hips. You didn't waste any time at all as you let yourself be wrapped in Frenchie's soft lips.

Butcher began to surround you, little by little, until he ended up behind you, covering your neck with small wet kisses, while your lips were being devoured by Frenchie. Billy's hands ran down your back, and ended at the beginning of the zipper of that pretty black dress you were wearing. Slowly, he started to take it off, and in sync, your hands rested on the edge of Frenchie's shirt, taking it off in a skillful movement.

Billy ran his fingers along your arms, bringing with him the straps of your dress, leaving it on the floor. You were left only in a beautiful set of lingerie, which fit your body perfectly.

"You like what you see?" you questioned as you smirked, seeing both of their faces almost drooling over you.

"You know we do, ma belle" Frenchie said.

Things began to move faster from there, and soon, Frenchie didn't have a single item of clothing on, and you finished getting rid of the last item of clothing that Billy was wearing. You grabbed Butcher by the waist and walked him to the edge of the bed to gently push him to sit there.

"Rough, aren't ya darlin’?" Billy smirked as Frenchie approached you from behind and began kissing your neck.

His hands slid to your breasts as he began to gently massage them. You couldn't help but moan with pleasure, throwing your head back. Your kisses went to Frenchie's lips, while Butcher’s hands continued to roam through your body, pulling you closer to him. One of your hands went down Frenchie's abdomen until you reached his cock, which was already hard and eager to be touched. A moan slipped from the frenchman’s lips as you gently touched the tip.

"I have an idea," you whispered, separating yourself from Frenchie, him following your lips as you chuckle.

With a sign, you motioned for him to lie down in the center of the bed, and when he was finally there, you scooted over him to settle between his legs.

Butcher knew where this was going, and he stood behind you, gently taking you by the waist.

Kneeling on the bed, with Billy behind you kissing your body non-stop,you moved one of your hands to Butcher’s cock, and began to caress it gently.

“Fuck doll, you know what I want you to do wi’ this, right? Such a slut f’me, been teasin’ me for so so long, haven’t ya darling” 

You responded with an inevitable moan that slipped from your lips. 

“Whatcha want?”

“I need you inside of me”

He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you closer to his cock. Your tongue ran over it, and you felt pride rushing through you as a grunt full of pleasure came from his mouth. 

His strong, large hand reached one of your cheeks, separating you from his cock, making you look at him for a moment as he caressed your skin.

“Despite how much I’m enjoying the show m’lady, I would very much like to be included.” Frenchie said, getting closer to you. 

You took one look at him, and, with temptation coursing through your veins, you turned around and started to stroke Frenchie’s dick. 

Billy, seeing you from behind, grabbed you by your waist, and positioned you towards him so he had a perfect angle to your ass.

He brazed one of his fingers over your clit, feeling how wet you were. 

“Aye darlin’ if I knew how excited you were I would’ve done somethin’ faster.” 

Butcher took his own dick in his hands, and guided it towards your pussy. His tip barely touched you and you already felt yourself dissolving in pleasure.

Gently, Billy slid into you, and a moan coming from both filled the room.

"Music to my fuckin’ ears," he murmured, satisfied.

Your mouth took care of Frenchie’s dick, bobbing your head up as you stared right into his eyes and he held you by your hair, not exactly pulling, but he was applying a certain pressure. 

“Merde, this girl is really something Butcher.” 

Billy increased the speed of his thrusts, filling you with increasingly exquisite pleasure. The speed with which he moved was supernatural, and caused vibrations within you that you had never felt before.

Again and again, moans slipped from the lips of all three.

"Ah… You're magnificent," Butcher groaned, feeling every part of his body begin to tense as he dug his nails into your ass.

At that point, you were melting into so much pleasure you couldn’t understand how you had been waiting so long to finally make an actual move. 

You felt the electricity of an orgasm fill you as Billy went faster and faster, not stopping despite the fact you’d already cum. A loud moan left your mouth, which made Frenchie groan in response, feeling him pulsing inside your mouth. 

Breathing heavily, you tried to recover as you started to massage Frenchie’s balls on your hands.

“Billy” you whimpered, pulling your mouth from Frenchie’s dick and working with your hands instead as you felt yourself reach a second orgasm. 

Frenchie squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his cock tighten more and more.

“Ah, m’belle. Keep it up," he asked, full-on moaning as he reached his orgasm.  

Butcher continued his thrusts until he accompanied you both through your orgasms.

Several broken moans reached your ears, satisfied with hearing them both curse amidst so much pleasure.

You let out a small sigh, and began to feel how Billy wrapped you in his arms, pressing his chest to your back.

"Doll, your cunt’s a fuckin’ masterpiece," he murmured into your ear, you were able to feel him smiling against your lobe.

You chuckled and nodded, without verbally responding as he began kissing your neck.

Frenchie got up from the bed, and rose to capture your lips in a kiss so desperate and filled with need you wondered if your lips would ever recover.

"I want to taste you," he murmured against your lips, eyes dark and filled with lust. "Let me taste you."

You nodded softly.

They both made way for you to lie down on the bed, and soon, Frenchie placed his face between your legs.

Butcher knelt beside you, and without a second thought, he pulled your face in for a kiss.

As your tongues wrapped around each other, a moan escaped into the kiss as you felt one of Frenchie’s cold fingers trace your entrance.

Butcher smiled to himself when he heard you, licking your bottom lip. 

Frenchie’s tongue ran over every part of your cunt in a smooth, slow motion, and it made you moan once more.

Billy ran one of his hands over your abdomen, and then slowly went up to grope your breasts. He continued kissing you frantically, but you couldn't keep up. The pleasure making you gasp and moan between kisses.

One of your hands ran down Billy’s chest, and went down to his cock, where you gave a small squeeze that made him grin into the kiss.

You began to move your hand up and down Butcher's cock, while Frenchie added fingers inside your pussy.

The minute he started rubbing your clit in circles was the minute you started to feel yet another orgasm building up.

You started to stroke Billy’s dick faster, trying to finish him off at the same time as you finished. 

Billy’s hand squeezed your left tit as he moved his mouth to suck the other. 

The overstimulation was too much. You came with a scream as Butcher grinned and pulled on your nipple.

“That pussy-” Frenchie smacked his tongue against his paladar. “Fucking magnifique.”

Butcher laid down beside you staring at your blown out eyes. 

“Look at ‘er French, so beautiful, all dizzy from us.” He caressed your cheek gently with his thumb. “Not a thought in yer brain, right darlin’?”

[driftingdryad]

Omg Bestie! I know I wanted to wait a bit with new request but hear me out!

Shikamaru or Shikaku teasing his girlfriend / partner with the Shadow technique 🥵🫣 Please! 🤭

Ask and you shall receive babes! xox

Listen I'm no jutsu expert and the Naras probs can't use the Shadow Sewing Technique to do all this filth, buuuuut for the sake of the spice let's pretend they can m'kay? lol

Also this is like the third time I've ever written anything smutty so pls be gentle! Thank yooou 🫶

((P.S. just so it's stated in multiple places, Shikamaru is in his mid 20s here!))

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

Word count: 2.2k

18+, Mid 20s Shikamaru, Clan Head Shikamaru, established relationship, consensual objectification, D/s dynamics, bondage, a little bit of pain play, mild overstim, inappropriate use of shadows lol

You waited in anticipation as you knelt upon the ornately embroidered cushions in the corner of Shikamaru's private office. ‘Be still,’ you reminded yourself, only moving your eyes as you cast a glance around the room in hopes of finding something to take your mind off of the heat rising between your thighs.

Shikamaru's private office was spacious, but minimalist in its aesthetic. The walls were lined with shelves housing a plethora of books, scrolls, and clan documents. When the titles of books on strategy and history didn't hold your interest, you wished Shika would let you fill the small gaps on his shelves with knick knacks. Then you'd at least have something to focus on and keep you still ‘like a good doll.’

You subtly clenched your thighs as your mind drifted back to your current situation. No, knick knacks probably wouldn't help you, and they weren't his style anyway. His office was the embodiment of function over form. Sure there were a few personal touches here and there, the large antique desk Shika had inherited from his father; a single picture of Team 10 in their genin years sitting on the windowsill overlooking the private garden; the well loved shogi set that sat mid-play on a low table on the opposite side of the room from you. There was no decor, though. Shikamaru didn't find such trivial things necessary to the overall function of his space. Plus, what man needed decorations when they had a gorgeous little thing like you — naked with your pretty little pussy weeping onto the luxurious pillows you knelt on — to liven up his space instead?

You were never usually one for sitting still long; something that Shikamaru endlessly grumbled about, though with adoration in his eyes; but something about being the only piece of true decoration in his office made you feel all floaty, and you wanted nothing more than to please him. Who knew being objectified by the man you love could feel so good?

You knew how much of a drag all his tedious paperwork was, and it made your heart soar to know that you made it more bearable for him. The wonderful feelings that came from Shikamaru directing you to kneel in your designated display space in his office was enough to keep you still, blissed out on the idea of being nothing more than an object, a porcelain doll, for him to devour with his eyes between reports.

Well… it kept you still for the first couple of hours. After that, the anticipation of what would come next — after all the paperwork was neatly filed away and Shikamaru finally relaxed into his high back chair and graced you with his full attention — had you starting to lose composure. He'd never made you wait for longer than two hours before. Today, it was nearing the four hour mark, and you weren't sure how much longer you could take it. You wanted to please him, gods you wanted to please him so badly, but your calves had long ago gone numb and you were certain that if you weren't touched soon you might start humping the pillow beneath you like a feral dog.

You shifted slightly hoping to ease some of the pressure on your calves, but only really succeeded in accidently squeezing your sensitive pussy between your plush thighs. The subtle pressure almost made you moan, but you didn't want to draw Shikamaru's attention to your rule breaking. Dolls weren't allowed to move, nevermind pleasure themselves, even if it was an accident.

A deep sigh had your eyes locked on Shikamaru in an instant. He met your gaze with half-lidded chocolate brown eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. Apparently, you hadn't been as subtle as you thought.

“Getting needy, are you?” Shika drawled, his voice low and calm as he inspected you. “Troublesome woman.”

His heavy gaze trailed your form slowly, taking in every detail from your quivering thighs, to your pink nipples that pebbled under his stare, then up to your large pleading eyes.

Troublesome woman indeed. You so badly wanted to tell him that yes, you were so incredibly needy for him, and that if he'd just please give you the release command you would crawl across his office on numb legs to the space beneath his desk that you loved so much and keep his cock warm in your throat until he was done work please, please, please!

But he didn't give you the command, and so you remained in place, unable to move or speak. A soft, pathetic whimper bubbled up your throat instead, a noise you were able to make on technicality alone.

A lazy grin lifted the corner of Shikamaru's lips. “I've kept you waiting a long time, haven't I, baby? You've done so good for me, though.”

His praise lit you up inside, warmth spreading through your system and lifting you higher into that fuzzy, floaty place. Shikamaru must have seen it on your face because his grin widened and something calculating flashed in his eyes.

“I still have two more reports and some scrolls to sign off on...”

Your heart dropped, and you're sure that your desperation was showing in your eyes. You wanted to whine in displeasure this time but held it back. You wanted to keep being a good doll for him, to make Shika proud of you. Whiney girls did neither of those things. You could tell he was waiting for it, though, giving you a moment to process. When you didn't make a fuss, he nodded, pleased.

“How about a little warm-up while I finish up? You'd like that, wouldn't you, pretty girl?” His gaze smoldered and trapped you within their depths.

Your eyes widened. Had Shikamaru read your mind? Your tongue flicked out and wet your lips unconsciously. Oh, how you loved having him buried in your throat. Your body tensed, waiting for the release command so you could throw yourself across the room at his feet. You could feel a rush of slick dribble down your inner thigh at the dirty images flashing through your mind.

The command never came. A single fluid hand gesture later, and Shikamaru's face fell back into his regular bored working expression as he opened the next file folder on the stack. You kneeled there, still as a statue, in utter confusion. Didn't he say…?

And then you saw it. Flowing out from beneath Shikamaru's desk were long tendrils of his shadow. You watched awe as the shadows glided across the floor towards your quivering frame. The Nara clan's secret techniques never failed to amaze you.

A jolt of excitement ran through you as the tendrils reached you, gently prodding your skin where it met the floor. You sighed softly at the familiar coolness of Shika’s shadow as the tendrils glided up along your heated skin.

Tearing your eyes away from the shadows that were exploring your body with gentle brushes, you turned your attention back to Shikamaru. You knew that while it seemed that the shadows had a mind of their own, in actuality, every move they made was at his behest. You'd never be able to tell though with the way he was diligently focused on the papers in front of him, pen scratching across the page here and there.

A small but sharp pain on your thigh drew your attention back to the tendrils. It seemed Shika wanted you to focus on yourself, not him. The sharpened tendril on your thigh dulled again before trailing over to your hand that rested palm up on your thigh. It wrapped around your wrist, tight but gentle, before forcing it behind your back. More tendrils mirrored the action with your other hand, binding them in shadows behind your back. You tugged experimentally on the binding hold — more out of curiosity than an actual want to escape — and were met with another needle like prick of warning against your skin.

You let your body relax into the hold of Shikamaru's shadow, enjoying the feeling of the many tendrils exploring your body. Some caressed gently while others pricked against your skin, only to be soothed by a softer touch. You reveled in the feeling of finally being touched after such a long wait, gasping and twitching as Shikamaru's shadows teased you. They were almost everywhere. You couldn't tell where one tendril began, and another ended. You had no clue how many there were either. All you knew was that they felt amazing teasing against your skin, and the need between your thighs was reaching a fever pitch.

Desperation bubbled up inside you as the tendrils explored; curling around your legs, whispering across your ticklish tummy, smoothing down your arms, and even softly caressing your cheeks, but not a single one strayed to the places you wanted them most. Your ass, breast and cunt were left untouched and alight with need. Sure, the feather light touches and sparks of pain already had you gasping, but you wanted more.

When finally a single shadow ghosted along the underside of one of your perky tits a whimper escaped your throat. Your hips stuttered forward against your will, raising your bottom off your calves, searching for something to grind against. A tendril that had wound its way around your hips tightened and jerked your body back to the proper position.

Shikamaru made a ‘tsk’ sound but didn't raise his head to acknowledge you. “Doll's can't move on their own. You know this,” he chastised.

He wasn't looking at you, but you lowered your gaze in apology either way. You did know that, but you couldn't help it! It didn't matter, though. Shika's shadows would help you.

The shadow tendrils tightened their grip on your wrists and spread further up your arms, binding them together from wrist to elbow. At the same time, the one around your hips extended out more tendrils to the floor, effectively anchoring you in place. The worst part, though, was the thicker tendrils that encased your folded thighs and yanked them apart with a strength that always surprised you.

Your glistening, sopping wet pussy was suddenly exposed to the cool air of the room, your clit peeking out from between your spread folds. Your most intimate parts displayed for Shikamaru. You could feel the heat of a mortified blush spreading from your chest to the tips of your ears. The embarrassment had your poor little pussy clenching down on thin air, even more aroused than you'd been seconds ago.

A shadow brushed along your inner thigh, trailing up, up, up to your spread core. Finally your pathetic pussy was going to get the attention it needed. Or not. Just before reaching the apex of your thighs the shadow shot up your body and wrapped tightly around your left breast. A keening cry left your throat at the unexpected move, so different from the slow sensual touches you'd been receiving thus far.

The shadow gripped your flesh, the tip of the tendril reaching out to flick your taut nipple. It hurt, but felt so good all at once. You arched against Shikamaru's restraining shadows and felt more of your slick dribble down your inner thighs. Another tendril climbed your body to tease your other nipple.

The tendrils enveloping your body continued to play across your skin, the mix of pleasure and pain so great that you soon began losing yourself to it, floating further away from reality with every second. You quickly lost track of time, but very briefly a clear thought crossed your mind: Your gasps and moans were probably distracting. You didn’t want to cause trouble for Shikamaru. You probably shouldn't let yourself float too far into the fuzzy space in your head. You needed to reel yourself back in, but you felt so good.

When you managed to pry your eyes open though Shikamaru was still diligently working away as if you weren't a twitching, near overstimulated mess on his office floor. His indifference fanned the flames within you and it felt like all he would need to do is send a single bored glance at your drenched cunt for you to fall over the edge. You could already imagine his teasing, ‘poor baby, so worked up and pathetic that you came without me even touching that pretty little pussy’. You mewled out a sob at your imaginary Shikamaru's words, closing your eyes again and throwing your head back, letting yourself fully fall into the overwhelming sensations swarming your body.

You didn't know how long you were bound there, spread wide and on display as Shikamaru teased you into oblivion with his shadow, but it all came crashing down around you in an instant. A single, electrifying brush of a cool shadow against your throbbing clit was all it took.

Your eyes flew open, unfocused, as a broken cry ripped from your throat. Your pussy clenched hard around nothing as your body went taut against your bonds, Shikamaru's name a worshiping chant in your head. The tendrils of shadows lost their chaotic vigor, instead caressing soft and gentle easing you through the intense orgasm.

When all that was left were the aftershocks and you managed to raise your head, you were once again met with Shikamaru's half-lidded gaze. His eyes were full of such heat and adoration that a soft, dopey smile took over your lips. He'd enjoyed the show. He'd enjoyed you.

“Such a good little doll,” Shikamaru said lowly, pushing himself away from his desk and rising. Your smile widened as he crossed the room to you.

For him? Always ♡

[ayasuki]

6th Bakugou x Reader FANFIC RECS

some are short but they're good hehe (most of these are suggestive :P)

> • 𝑹𝒆𝒄 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕

" Dream Eater " by justatypicaltrash

dream eater!bakugou x reader

warning: slight angst

bakugo is an eternal living dream eater.

" I Like You, Okay?! " by kikyo-bnha-imagines

bakugou x fem!reader

summary: katsuki struggles to confess to his crush.

" Workshopped Romance " by itsmm4hiii

pro-hero!bakugou x fem!reader

summary: working for a hero costume designer has its perks like; meeting heroes, playing with cool technologies, getting you're name out- y/n didn't  really expect her own boss will try and hook her up with a customer. 

" Blood Moonlit, Must be Counterfeit " by irisintheafterglow

pro-hero!bakugou x reader

warning: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol

summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes.

WARNING | beneath the cut are slightly suggestive to full on smut fics

" no title " by moominsuki

bakugou x fem!reader

warning: ch. 359-362 spoilers kinda. a little suggestive but fluff all around

summary: katsuki hates being off the job. but what he hates more is being treated like glass, especially by you.

" as the years go by " by quitesins

pro-hero!bakugou x fem!reader

warning: suggestive, slight nsfw, friends to lovers, unrequited love ig? virgin!reader, drabble

summary: being friends with bakugou since UA, watching each other change as the years go by, but still having room to learn more, so much more.

" no title " by izvmimi

warning: palace drama au, multiple wives, fem!reader, brief explicit sex.

" One More Time " by yanderenightmare

warning: derogatory dirty talk, spanking, angsty but with a fluffy ending

" no title " by dreamland03

bakugou x reader

warning: mention of sex like once, drinking, mention of trauma, bad self image

" Come Sit " by saturnorbits

bakugou x fem!reader

warning: cock-warming

summary: after a long day, all you need is bakugo.

" Feral " by smiley-babe

wolfhybrid!bakugou x fem!reader

warnings: aged up characters, lowkey monster fucking (hybrid bakugo has wolf ears, a tail, and fangs), knotting, HUGE breeding kink, no specific dynamics, biting, small blood kink (if you squint), marking/ bonding, heat/ rut behavior, panty sniffing, kind of rough sex, oral (f receiving), and fingering

summary: taking in a wolf hybrid already didn’t seem like a good idea, but when spring hits… all hell breaks loose.

" Personal Trainer!BKG " by bakubunny

personal trainer!bakugou x plus size!fem!reader

warning: oral sex (m receiving), rough sex.

" On To Better Things " by savnofilter

prohero!dilf!bakugou x fem!reader

warning: angst, strangers to lovers

sfw | toxic & abusive relationship, toxic baby daddy, mentions postpartum, mental health, arguing, mentions of legal proceedings, counseling, drama, cultural family expectations, love bombing, manipulation, a man being a hypocrite, reader low-key needs a new circle of people around them but that's neither here nor there, reader loves their daughter to pieces </3, reader's daughter is a hand full but we stan!, reader spaces out a lot, "our kids are best friends but we never met before and so happen to be single" trope.

nsfw | fingering, cunnilingus, groping, praise kink, reader has multiple orgasms (2, hinted 4), reader is a bit shy as it's been awhile and feels nervous, vocal queen reader, clothed sex, protected sex, comforting!bakugo, non-established relationship.

" Swipe Right " by ryukatters

bakugou x fem!reader

warning: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp

summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

" no title " by katbakubae

bakugou x fem!reader

warning: language, dom!bakugou, possessiveness, jealousy, (mild) stalking, name calling, spanking, rough oral.

summary: sick of your boyfriends lack of time with you because of his busy schedule, you decided to take some time for yourself. unfortunately, letting that happen was never an option for him.

[timkontheunsure]

The clocks back theory

Something in this zanny one is plot relevance. (Probably relevant to this season's finale, Sinsmas)

It could be a couple of things, or both. 🙂

Emberlynn's amulet

It could be the Dhorks and cherubs related. But would be funnier if the people writing akuma no otto, the devil' husband, were just using a lot of religious stuff as backstory. (Like Hazbin hotel does. Hey offbrand Charlie).

If Stolas' seal is all that's to summon him, I can see merchants for a show accidentally making holly protection. 😆

Dumb fanfic

Ok, so gist is a someone who previously had a wife stands up against satan to protect their lover.

And Satan is turning up soon, probably in Sinsmas.

Blitz and IMP look to be in trouble in the trailer.

What if they get caught?

We know Andrealphus is plotting something to get all of Stolas' wealth, legions and title. And 'technically' doing this for Stella, Stolas' wife, so she'll get more in the divorce. (Actually doing it so he gets it).

Emberlynn also calls Blitz a demon prince.

Wich makes me think it's foreshadowing Stolas being the one taking a stand for his man. Not Blitz (this time).

There's been a theme this season of Stolas learning to choose, and stand up for what he wants. After failing to do so before last

Like going through with the divorce,

Makeing sure Blitz can manage his business without him,

And setting a boundary of needing space when he's hurt. Something that's really hard do with loved ones.

These are all pieces of rebuilding you have to do after abuse.

This part with the ars goeita, Andy and Vassago, Mammon and Satan all looks to be in the same place.

I'm assuming this meeting is about IMP's illegal use of the grimoire. To show Stolas is too incompetent and unfit for his job.

While Blitz now has a legal method and is under Asmodeus jurisdiction, how much will that help when Ozzie's also very publicly dating an imp?

That might make him seem to biased to help, when Blitz originally was lent the grimoire for sleeping with Stolas.

But why would Mammon be helping here?

Blitz burned down Loo loo land, while IMP were being bodyguards for Stolas. Wonder if hell has a law about being liable for any damage that contractors do?

But I can see Stolas standing up against Satan in the ars goeita council, to keep Blitz and IMP safe.

So why do I think the amulet might come back in?

A lot of people at assuming Andy is going to win this. (Couldn't be arsed to keep putting the full name anymore. And I get a laugh thinking it'd piss the pompous bugger off).

That he'll take everything from Stolas. Money, home, job, grimoire, and probably even Via. 🙁 (Don't think that'll stick as Via is a real daddy's girl).

Stolas without his grimoire would probably be vulnerable to Andy, especially if he's just been dragged by the council.

Thinking this is going to get a call back.

A lot of us have been wondering how Blitz is defending a vulnerable Stolas.

Maybe the strangle looking knife is merchant from the akuma no otto show lol?

(NB I had to do so many double check that I didn't put Santa instead of Satan in this thing. 😅 Heh dyslexic kiddies write Christmas lists to hell lol).

[ageingfangirl2]

Do Not Disturb! Shanks (OPLA)

After a night of drinking, Shanks is annoyed and you are sent in to see what's wrong. You put your foot in your mouth and Shanks lets out his frustrations. Shanks x Reader (female) SMUT

Y/N

It was a hot day, and there was one benefit of being a female pirate, you could swap your trousers for a skirt. Your skirts were practical, resting just below your knees with a small slit on the side making movement easier in a fight. You put on your normal white blouse and a brown skirt to match your new brown boots. Living on a ship full of guys you didn't wear makeup, so you simply brushed your hair and put it up in. a ponytail so in the heat it didn't stick to your neck.

This was your second day docked on an island you couldn't remember the name of, your first day and night was a blur due to partying and drinking. Maybe today you could explore and do some shopping.

You walk onto the deck and shield your eyes from the sun. Most of the crew had already left but Benn was standing looking over some documents while smoking.

He looks over at you and smirks, 'looking pretty little lady. You heading off as well?'

Benn was a charmer and your smoking buddy, 'I'm going to grab some water first. Can you get me some smokes and I'll pay you later? You always get the good ones.'

Benn winks at you and goes to head off the ship, 'I'll always get you the good stuff, nothing is too good for my little lady.'

You go to head to the kitchen when you hear Benn call out, 'Can you check on the captain, his conquest left earlier and he's been silent.'

You roll your eyes at the request. Why did it always fall on you to check on Shanks? You were convinced before you joined the crew that most of the guys had seen each other naked so it shouldn't be a shock to them. A few times they sent you in when the hookup hadn't left yet because Shanks couldn't get mad at you. The girl who'd been all over him last night was a prostitute and not a high-class one at that from the way they dressed, but pirates weren't fussy. Before you turned in for the night you checked on Shanks who had called you jealous because he wasn't paying attention to you.

It was common knowledge amongst the crew that from time to time you and Shanks slept together, they even sent you in to calm him down. You might have also given Benn a blow job when drunk and you were out of cigarettes, but other than that you took care of your own needs and hooked up whenever you docked somewhere. There was no real title for you and Shanks, but you weren't jealous because you weren't together.

You knock on Shank's door and get no reply so put your hand on the handle, 'I'm coming in Shanks,' you call out.

The room was dark, the curtains still drawn only letting in a crack of light to illuminate the space. The bed was a mess and your eyes focus on Shanks who was butt naked leaning over his desk with his back to you, giving you a nice view of his ass.

'Captain, Benn wanted me to see if you were okay. You're alive so I'll go,' you say calmly, before turning to leave.

Shanks growls stopping you in your tracks, 'THAT BITCH STOLE FROM ME!'

You can't help but throw your head back and laugh, 'and you called me jealous. You need to get yourself better standards, wait until the guys hear about this, the great Shanks robbed by a cheap whore.'

Shanks's head snaps towards you and immediately you stop laughing and back up, but bump into the small sofa he had. Shanks stalks towards you, something dark behind his eyes, you were his prey.

'Then what does that make you?' he chuckles darkly.

Next thing you know he's spinning you around and pushing you over the arm of the sofa, your face hitting the worn leather leaving you back exposed. His hand pushes up your skirt and you squirm feeling the cold air on your backside.

'Oh shit!' you gasp, Shanks grabbing your ponytail and pulling your head up.

'I asked you a question, answer me,' he states, voice deep from sleep and alcohol.

You gulp, 'Err a girl in the wrong place at the wrong time captain.'

He grunts and releases your ponytail before his hand comes down swiftly on your cheeks making you scream because you weren't expecting this.

'You're funny,' one more smack, 'you're not a cheap whore, you're simply a whore,' another smack, 'at least a cheap whore gets paid,' a fourth smack, 'you're a whore for you captain.'

With each smack, you thrust against the sofa biting your lip. Shanks wasn't lying, his words didn't hurt you, they turned you on.

'then fuck away your problem captain, that's what I'm here for,' you say shakily, your breath catching a little.

Shanks pulls down your underwear and you shift to shed them completely, your clit pressed against the cold leather, 'Beautiful,' he whispers.

You moan loudly as he aligns himself, feeling his tip rubbing against your opening, 'fuck me, captain,' you beg, no shame in your voice.

There weren't many attractive guys on this island so you had to get your release somehow.

Without warning Shanks thrusts, and you take all of him inside you, walls clenching as your hips buck. Shanks grabs your ponytail again as he slams into you more forcefully than the last.

'The ships empty, I want to hear you, we both know you're quite vocal,' Shanks mocks.

'YES...OH FUCK...' you moan loudly, 'FILL ME UP CAPTAIN!'

Shanks continues to fuck you, his grunts mixing with your moans as the only other sound in the room was skin-on-skin contact. You'd hooked up enough times to know when both of you were close.

'CUM FOR ME!' Shanks commands.

You come undone around him, your eyes rolling back as you try to catch your breath. His thrusts become sloppier until he unloads inside you. He keeps his dick inside as you both come down together, if the heat outside didn't make you a sweaty mess, you were a sweaty mess now.

'Good girl,' Shanks coos as he pulls out.

You get back to your feet and pull your skirt back down which was now crumpled, when Benn saw you he'd know what happened. Shanks leans down and kisses your forehead, all the anger from earlier gone.

'Feeling better?' you ask, fixing your ponytail.

Shanks smirks, 'I am now. God, you're too good to me y/n, I guess I can't mope forever.'

TIMESKIP

SHANKS

It was evening when I saw y/n again, their skirt still wrinkled from our morning activity. They said they wanted to explore the town. Benn who was sat next to me on the deck bends down and picks something up before throwing it at them which they catch with ease.

'Thank you, Benn, how much do I owe?' y/n asks, eyeing the box of cigarettes in their hands.

Benn waves them off, 'This one is on me y/n.'

y/n blows him a kiss, before walking past me, they pause, 'I got something for you captain, I'll leave it in your quarters,' they whisper.

I enter my quarters later on and see two things on my desk. One of them was my stolen compass, and the other was a bag of money. I can't help but laugh at the fact that y/n also got me my money back. I didn't want to know what they did to get this back to me, but it was better to have them on your side.

[shorelinessightlines]

Jupiter is often referred to as the star that failed. Max thinks about that, sometimes, when they're racing and he's just passed Daniel on track. He can look in his rearview mirrors and see the little three on the AlphaTauri—Daniel, in a shitty car he outperforms every weekend, and Max, already set for the podium.

When Max is particularly bored, he rewatches old races from 2014, ‘16, ‘18 and thinks about it, unbidden—how if Lewis and Max simply didn't exist, it might’ve been Daniel on the top step at the very end of the season. Daniel fighting for titles and wins, not letting anyone keep the 1st place cap on their head long enough to mess up their hair. If he'd just been a little quicker, a little more ruthless; if he'd stuck around long enough for the Honda engine, the RB19. If Daniel had just been a fraction of a second better.

Then Max feels bad for ever thinking such a thing. Not because it isn’t true, but because it sounds like something his dad would say.

Jos used to buy Max magazines full of interviews by Senna, Prost, Mansell. He said they were full of stars. He laughed at Max when they got home after Zandvoort in 2011, back when Max was still in karting and Daniel was just starting out in F1, and Max had said: "I want to be just like him."

That Christmas Jos bought Max a poster of Nigel Piquet and said, "This is the type of man you should be looking up to." Max hung it up on his ceiling that night and stared at it. He had thought, privately, that if Piquet was a star then he must have been one of those small stars, the ones that you can’t really see from Earth without a telescope. Daniel was closer, brighter. Sun-like.

He tore down the poster the next morning.

Jos was right, of course, to steer Max towards more successful heroes. Jos would never point to Daniel's article in GQ Sports and tell Max he's looking at a star. Daniel smiles at him, though, on the paddock and off, and it feels like sunshine.

He tells Daniel as much during the summer break, in Daniel's Monaco apartment, tipsy off some expensive wine Max can't even pronounce the name of.

"Jupiter is a very stupid planet," Max is ranting, unreasonably pissed about it. "You know, it has ninety-five moons? The fuck does it need ninety-five moons for? Stupid." He chugs another sip of wine, straight from the bottle. Daniel does the same.

"Jupiter?" Daniel muses after he swallows, less inebriated than Max but still drunk enough to have begun sitting on the couch upside down. The top of his skull almost touches the floor. "Mate, don't diss Jupiter like that. Space gets lonely, maybe."

Max snorts. "It is a planet, Daniel, it does not get lonely. It should just have one moon, or no moons. It is not very loyal."

"It is a planet, Maximus, it cannot be loyal," Daniel says back to him, snarky, in a high-pitched voice and a bad Dutch accent.

"Is that supposed to be me?" He shoves at him, accidentally causing Daniel's head to bang against the floor. Whatever. He deserves it. "Name one good thing about Jupiter."

Daniel shrugs as best as he can. "Biggest planet in our solar system or whatever the fuck. Why are we talking about Jupiter again?"

"Because it is awful, and my dad is not correct." Daniel laughs, at that.

"What? Does your dad, like, love Jupiter or something?"

Max points, accusatory. "See, that is exactly the point! He does not love Jupiter! In fact, he is awful about Jupiter!"

Max can almost see the gears in Daniel's head grind together slowly. "Then why are you dissing Jupiter?"

Max groans. His thoughts make less and less sense the more he goes on. "I am not, of course, dissing Jupiter. I am simply pointing out the fact that Jupiter is not a star and you, obviously, are a star." He's getting lost in his own, brilliant analogy.

Daniel says, "Oh yeah, Maxy?" He has his stupid smile on, the one that Max knows means he thinks Max is crazy but will indulge him anyway. "Well it's very nice that you think so."

"Of course I think so," Max scoffs, perfectly serious. He hates that he can't really look Daniel in the eye, sitting right-side-up. He opts to sit like Daniel, head towards the floor and legs slung over the back of the couch, so he can stare directly at him. "I am being serious."

"Well, I'm serious about that Jupiter shit. Best planet ever. Number one Jupiter defender, right here," Daniel slurs, pointing at himself and flashing his brilliant, sun-warm smile.

Max can't help but smile too.

"You are very stupid," he says, and it sounds like something else. "I am trying to tell you that I think you—you." He flushes, cutting himself off and looking away from Daniel, up towards the ceiling.

"Ah, whatever Maxy. You just can't accept Jupiter's superiority."

Max tries one last time, to make him understand. "Jupiter is called the star that failed," he says, trying to prove something.

Daniel is looking at him, he can feel it. His stare burns a hole in the side of Max's head. "I'm okay with that," he says, suddenly very very soft. "Jupiter's the biggest planet in the solar system. He's got a whole ninety-five moons."

"But he is not a star," Max scowls.

Daniel smiles again, smaller. Kinder. "He gets to orbit a star. He gets to be the biggest planet, and orbit a fucking star, the best star in the universe. That's a pretty sweet deal if you ask me."

Max shakes his head and says, "You are unbelievable." He reaches over to grab Daniel's stupid face and kiss him, and promptly falls off the couch.