#we all know Baron really into it

[ikemengoessbrrrrr]

There should be a story where the cat bureau members need to disguise themselves as guard/mafia/any job that use suit on their mission

[empyreansentinel]

if angel was raised on pandora it means that she and jack lived as residential settlers during dahls occupation. grogmouth likely worked for the flynts who, being a high status family at the time, in turn worked for dahl. baron flynt was the warden of thor, a dahl mining rig that doubled as a prison. the companys sole interest in pandora to begin with was to extract eridium and find alien relics, so a siren would be a priceless bargaining chip for their efforts. all of this to say its very possible that the flynts were the ones who sent out the order for angel to be kidnapped.

[sugarcoatednightshade]

Tired of seeing fic on ao3 claiming to be based off dune the book series when it’s very obvious that the writer has only seen dune the movie(s).

Yes, it matters. Yes, these are very different works. You’re probably doing this for visibility; I don’t care. Archive Of Our Own is a fucking archive, stop labeling your works with a tag you know is factually incorrect. It makes it impossible for me to filter for fics I want to read.

[reasonsforhope]

Kamala Harris just announced that her vice president will be Minnesota governor Tim Walz. Based on the coverage so far I'm really reassured by this decision.

The Washington Post did an obviously great job of making a prepared article for each option, considering how long an article they had up 7 minutes after the announcement.

((Okay technically it's not an official announcement yet it's "according to three people familiar with the pick, who spoke on the condition of anonymity to discuss a decision that is not yet public." But listen. I am 99% sure this is a weather balloon. (Meaning: a deliberate leak to gauge reaction.) Because the sheer weakness or incompetence on the part of the Harris campaign that it would take for three people to all confirm that within a few hours hours of each other and the planned announcement it is massive.))

-via The Washington Post, August 6, 2024

Honestly this decision, from everything I've read and can tell, looks like it's brilliant politics.

Important Context: The vice president(ial candidates)'s job in an election is not to be similar to the president. The vice president's job on the ballot is very, very much specifically to be different from the president. Why? So they can cover each others' weaknesses. Especially regionally.

(Sidenote: I feel a bit ridiculous saying this. But genuinely if you want to get a stronger understanding of how US elections really work. Go watch seasons 6 and 7 of The West Wing. Genuinely, a lot of politicians have said - especially back in its day - that that was the most accurate depiction of an election they'd ever seen. Also specifically features an entire arc about a contested Democratic primary convention, so also very good if you're interested in understanding weird nominating convention shenanigans.)

From the article:

"Harris’s choice for a running mate was among the most closely watched decisions of her fledgling campaign, as she sought to bolster the ticket’s prospects for victory in November and rapidly find someone who could be a governing partner. In picking Walz, she has selected a seasoned politician with executive governing experience and signaled the importance of Midwestern battleground states such as Wisconsin and Michigan.

Walz’s foray into politics came later in life: He spent more than two decades as a public school teacher and football coach, and as a member of the Army National Guard, before running for Congress in his 40s. In 2006, he defeated a Republican to win Minnesota’s 1st Congressional District--a rural, conservative area--and won reelection five times before leaving Congress to run for governor.

Walz was first elected governor in 2018 and handily won reelection in 2022. Though little-known outside his state, Walz emerged publicly as one of the earliest names mentioned as a possible running mate for Harris, and in the ensuing days he made the rounds on television as an outspoken surrogate for the vice president...

“These are weird people on the other side. They want to take books away, they want to be in your exam room. … They are bad on foreign policy, they are bad on the environment, they certainly have no health care plan, and they keep talking about the middle-class,” Walz told MSNBC in July. “As I said, a robber baron real estate guy and a venture capitalist trying to tell us they understand who we are? They don’t know who we are.”

Walz also has faced criticism from Republicans that his policies as governor were too liberal, including legalizing recreational marijuana for adults, protecting abortion rights, expanding LGBTQ protections, implementing tuition-free college for low-income Minnesotans and providing free breakfast and lunch for schoolchildren in the state.

But many of those initiatives are broadly popular. Walz also signed an executive order removing the college-degree requirement for 75 percent of Minnesota’s state jobs, a move that garnered bipartisan support and that several other states have also adopted.

“What a monster. Kids are eating and having full bellies, so they can go learn, and women are making their own health-care decisions,” Walz said sarcastically in a July 28 interview with CNN when questioned whether such policies would be fodder for conservative attacks, later adding: “If that’s where they want to label me, I’m more than happy to take the [liberal] label.”

Walz also spoke at a kickoff event in St. Paul for a Democratic canvassing effort, casting Trump as a “bully.”

“Don’t lift these guys up like they’re some kind of heroes. Everybody in this room knows--I know it as a teacher--a bully has no self-confidence. A bully has no strength. They have nothing,” Walz said at the event, sporting a camouflage hunting hat and T-shirt.

Walz has explained that he felt some Democrats’ practice of calling Trump an existential threat to democracy was giving him too much credit, which prompted his decision to denounce the GOP nominee instead as being “weird.”

“I do believe all those things are a real possibility, but it gives him way too much power," Walz said on CNN’s “State of the Union” regarding the Democrats’ rhetoric. “Listen to the guy. He’s talking about Hannibal Lecter, shocking sharks, and just whatever crazy thing pops into his mind.”

If Walz is elected vice president, under state law, Minnesota Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan (D) would assume the governorship for the rest of his term. Minnesota Senate president Bobby Joe Champion, a Democrat, would become lieutenant governor."

-via The Washington Post, August 6, 2024

--

This guy. Sounds like. fucking Moderate swing-state/rural/Midwestern/southern/"heartland"/working class white voter catnip. He sounds like he's also a very smart politician and strong campaigner. And he's apparently genuinely a good guy with a good record, too.

He sounds like he's going to do a really good job of appealing to voters in several of the big deal swing states without being from any of them specifically. Which means it doesn't feel like pandering to one of the states involved (and thereby spurning the others), which is also great.

(Also he was the one who started "weird" @ conservatives and I think we should take that seriously as a very good political instinct/move. Judging in large part by how it has so clearly hit an actual nerve with conservatives like so little else. Also hugely relevant: that post going around about how part of why conservatives are so upset about "weird" is because in the Midwest, "weird" specifically also implies anti-social or harmful behavior.)

Officially feeling more optimistic about Trump not winning in November

[earlgraytay]

I really wish that people had a better grasp on what The Average Person's Life was like pre-industrialization. If you're living in the global North the odds are good that your life is, in fact, better than a medieval king- yes, even with the political stuff- and would make your ancestors cry wild tears of envy.

The things that suck about your life are things that suck about the baseline human condition (at least since the invention of agriculture, but that's 10,000 years of humanity). Yes, including all the political stuff.

The baseline human condition is "being terrified of losing the harvest and starving", compared to that, losing a job is no big deal. (It's bad, it can be life-upendingly bad, but it's still not "you are guaranteed to die if you screw this up" bad for most people.)

The baseline human condition is "getting kicked around by a tin pot dictator", whether that be a king, a baron, a warlord, or a chief; it's taken centuries of social technology to get the world to a point where that's Not Normal.

The baseline human condition is "losing multiple siblings and/or children at a young age to diseases that are entirely preventable". That's a shocking tragedy now. The baseline human condition is "being in the pathway of said tinpot dictator's wars of conquest" and having to deal with soldiers' pillage, looting, and worse (even if they're nominally on your side). That is, again, a shocking tragedy-- it still happens, and happens in way too much of the world, but no one is going to tell you that it's normal.

I'm not saying that we can sit back and rest on our laurels. We can't. I've been calling the pre-industrial world the "baseline human condition" for a reason- unless you're very, very careful, that's what your society eventually reverts to. It takes a lot of people working very hard to make sure you don't have to live at the baseline human condition, and if you start slacking on that, you start backsliding into it.

How we treat each other- and how we use the technology, material and social, that we've developed to make things easier- matters. We can make the world even better than it is now. We can also make it significantly worse. The choice is ours.

...But if you know that you can reliably have food regardless of the season, you don't live in fear of a random attack killing you tomorrow, and you can listen to music on command whenever you want? You do actually live a better life than a medieval king. Because even kings and emperors were much closer to the baseline human condition than a random farm worker in Bumfuck, Iowa is today.

[risestarkiss]

✨The Fashionista✨

Rise Ramblings #234

While watching “The Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle,” I noticed something.

I found it interesting that Raph, Mikey, and Leo were content with Raph’s outfit choice until Donnie stated that he wasn’t “in love with it, ya’ know.”

Suddenly, Raph declares “I’m a disaster!” Albeit ridiculously endearing, it was a little strange to see his sudden shift from moderately content to absolute dissatisfaction. Huh…

Then, the disaster twins decide to help him out.

Take a note of their outfit choices.

Raph tries on all of these fits and more.

Donnie’s first choice is a mild “no.” Leo’s choice is a hard “NO.” (Not surprising, lol.) But then, the overwhelming consensus lands on Raph’s fourth outfit, which ended up being Donatello’s other pick for his brother.

So, in summary, Raph tried on his personal choice for an outfit, of which they rejected. Then, ultimately, Donatello picked out an outfit for his brother, and that pick ended up being perfect. Hmm…

Then I noticed something else. In this episode, we never get a Donnie “curtain reveal” moment, to our disdain. I mean, Raph, Leo, and Mikey got to try on several different outfits in order to get their brothers' opinions before landing on that “perfect outfit, you know the one.” All of his brothers got to shine. Why not DonTron?

Then it hit me.

The try-ons were to get their brothers' opinions and approval. And, for his brothers' choices, he was a major contributor in assisting them in pulling their looks together.

What if, bear with me, Donnie didn’t need the "curtain scene" because he was so confident in his fashion sense that he didn’t need to ask his brothers for help to pick out a great look.

…or they figured out how to break Hypno’s spell before he could get a “curtain reveal.” BUT STILL-

Look at his outfit choices in this episode. Some of his wardrobe changes were off-screen, but all of them were fire.

(I added the baseball cap pic because it makes me happy. I wish we'd seen more of that fit.)

To me, he makes some really smart choices for himself, pushing the envelope of what is expected and taking chances: an open collar with no tie for a “black tie” event, a beanie and spiked wristbands for their “gansta look,” no socks with loafers (a viral fashion trend that actually began in Africa) with old man slacks in his reclined pose. *muah* Chef’s kiss!

But Don’s fashion sense doesn’t just shine in this episode.

In “Reparin’ the Baron” the boys go to Draxum’s apartment. Leo and Donnie show up in some extra nice “Sunday Dinner” twin drip.

The gold is in the details. Everything Leo is wearing, Donnie rocks its compliment: for Leo’s round collar, Donnie’s is angled, for Leo’s blue shirt, Donnie’s is white, For Leo’s light slacks, Donnie’s are dark. Blah blah blah. It’s so good!

Look at the winter fit in Snow Day.

Again, Donnie is Leo’s perfect compliment. As a pair? Fire.

Donnie has “the eye.” I can go on and on with examples, but I’ve said all of that to say this…

In the future, we see that Donatello’s technology had major pull in the resistance. He had drone ships patrolling the skies. He built and designed Leo’s arm, Casey’s chainsaw-hockey stick, and Casey's mask. The list goes on…

But, when Donatello from the past see’s Casey’s clothing from the future, he says this:

We know about the “Genius Built” brand. We’ve seen that logo on all of his tech up to this point. But, here he didn’t just say “Genius Built.” He said, “Genius Built Apparel.”

“Apparel” is not a tech brand. “Apparel” is a fashion brand. Of course, tech is incorporated into the clothing, but still.

This means that past Donatello secured this trademark with plans of creating a fashion brand, comparable to the likes of Gucci, Ralph Lauren, or any other modern clothing brand, as a subsidiary of “Genius Built,” the tech company.

And why not? The evidence has been in front of us this entire time. He has a sharp eye for style, fashion, and trends. It is easily canon that he can sew. Splinter sewed their ninja garbs in “Insane in the Mama Train,” and there is a sewing machine in the house.

They already learned Ninjutsu through basically osmosis, so learning to sew is not too far-fetched.

And here it is, right in front of us, Casey’s entire ensemble, from mask, to weapons, to clothing, was made by Donatello in the middle of the apocalypse under the brand name “Genius Built Apparel.”

And that was just in the bad future. Resources were limited, they didn’t have access to much of anything in that broken world as they were survivors of a devastating Krang invasion. Yet, he created all of this.

However, now that they’ve changed the future, his future as a fashion designer is limitless. Think of what Donatello could produce with unlimited resources, unlimited technology, and unlimited creative freedom.

Tech genius. Clothing designer. Fashionista. Future Genius Built Apparel Owner and CEO. I’m sorry, but I have to call it...

Donatello Hamato of the present, of the bad future, and of the good future is a fashion icon, the likes of which the world has never seen. ○○○○

Update: I've decided to make this concept into a mini-comic series!

2025 Update:

I've also made this post into a YOUTUBE VIDEO!

Video Preview:

You can check that out →→→ HERE ←←←

○○○○

🎞 YOUTUBE 🎞 | 💚 SEND A SLICE 🍕 | 🎵 BANDCAMP 🎵

[omgellendean]

So, Sacha Baron Cohen recently endorsed Kamala Harris in a fittingly racist islamophobic manner, by bringing back his character Borat. Yes, it's 2024.

Anyway, here's a 2022 investigation of SBC's vile Zionism and connections to the USA and Israeli intelligence, as well as an insight into the role of the US-American cinema as a propaganda tool.

Article: https://www.mintpressnews.com/closer-scrutiny-reveals-close-state-power-sacha-baron-cohen-really/279355/

Archived link: https://archive.is/7dSTL

Some quotes:

When asked about the national security state’s role in shaping pop culture, the former intelligence officer [John Kiriakou] said that it is “far more cynical” than most people realize, explaining:

” There is a branch inside the CIA’s Office Of Public Affairs whose job is solely to work with Hollywood Studios. This is something that the FBI has been doing since the 1940s. They’ll cooperate and give the red carpet treatment to any Hollywood studio that’s willing to make the CIA look good. “ [...]

In the end, “Br��no’s” production company did interview someone they claimed was a terrorist (in the Letterman interview, Baron Cohen described the man as such eight times in the space of three minutes). However, the person in question – Palestinian grocer and NGO worker Ayman Abu Aita – vigorously denied he was a terrorist at all. He claimed that Baron Cohen had told him the interview would be about his peace activism and that his life and business had been destroyed as a result. Abu Aita sued for nearly $100 million. The case was settled for an undisclosed sum in 2012. [...]

Even from an early age, Sacha was reportedly obsessed with the Jewish state. “He was very Zionist, very involved in Habo,” recalled one friend, referring to Habonim Dror, a left-wing Zionist group of which he was a member. Others remembered him as “a very nerdy, very funny, Israel-oriented guy” who went to live on a kibbutz in his youth. He appears to idolize Shimon Peres, traveling to meet him in 2012 and sharing quotes from the former Israeli president on his social media accounts. Peres, of course, oversaw the genocide of Palestinians in 1948, attempted to sell nuclear weapons to Apartheid South Africa, and carried out the ethnic cleansing of the Galilee region. [...]

Unsurprisingly, Baron Cohen has also campaigned fiercely against the Boycott Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement, presenting it as viciously antisemitic. “Boycotting? Yeah, fantastic. As long as they are Jews, it is alright. I’m not a racist, but keep the Jews out,” he said, in an attempt to satirize their position. [...]

Much of the movie is actually spent “on location” in “Kazakhstan,” where Borat takes the viewer around an unimaginably poor-looking village, making fun of how backward “his people” are. There are no Western egos or ignorance being punctured here. In fact, it was shot in a gypsy encampment in Romania, where locals were paid around $3 each to be humiliated by a man who spoke to them in a language they did not understand. The villagers were told they were appearing in a sympathetic documentary highlighting their lives. “Borat” made over $262 million at the box office. [...]

The racism was further amplified with the 2020 release of “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm.” Within the first two minutes of the sequel, Borat informs us that Kazakhstan has canceled their traditional event, “the running of the Jew,” but fortunately his country still has Holocaust Remembrance Day, “when we commemorate our heroic soldiers who ran the camps.” Borat also received an award, which he stated will be “put in our national museum along with other treasure we have confiscated from Jews.” [...]

In actual fact, as many have pointed out, Kazakhstan was a haven for Jewish people during the Holocaust, not a perpetrator of it, saving thousands of Jewish lives by taking in people from Eastern Europe and other states of the U.S.S.R. Today, the country is commended by Jewish groups as a model of tolerance. It is also, notably, not a helplessly sexist nation; Save The Children ranked it higher than the United States in its list of best countries to grow up female.

This is a rather inconvenient truth for the Israeli state-building project Baron Cohen supports. Ironically, perhaps the most shocking and newsworthy case of exposing bigotry Baron Cohen has documented has never been revealed. While in character as Brüno in Jerusalem, Baron Cohen was beaten nearly to death by an enraged crowd of homophobic Israelis, who, angered by his camp and sacrilegious attire, started stoning him, on camera. Baron Cohen was reportedly “nearly killed.” Kiriakou told MintPress that Baron Cohen told him that a rabbi even spat on him. It was the only time in his career that he broke character and desperately yelled that he was an Israeli Jew, not a homosexual foreigner. The comedian fled for his life and found refuge in a nearby store bathroom. This footage has never seen the light of day. Perhaps it sends the “wrong” message.

[sloaneispunk]

“jealousy jealousy”

stormshadow (lee byung hun) x you

“i told you i’d kill him if he touched you again”

✶ ──── 🀀 ──── ✶

when you joined cobra, you had to take up different missions with different objectives. this time, you had to go undercover as the baroness, earning the trust of the baron so you could infiltrate the secret code for weapons.

“y/n, this is stormshadow. he’s assigned to keep you safe during the mission, i need you two to work together.” your employer said.

your first impressions of stormshadow was that he was reslly goodlooking. he had the perfect facial harmony that somehow complemented his physique as a whole.

“my pleasure, ms y/n.” stormshadow greeted, subtly bowing down as a sign of respect.

“you’ll start in a few hours, you have a date with the baron at 7 sharp! don’t be late!” your employer shouted from a far as he walked off, leaving the two of you behind.

“i’ll come back at 6:30 to pick you up.” the man in front of you reminded.

you nodded and gave him a smile before heading off.

back in your room, you found a box already waiting for you on your bed.

‘picked out a dress for you’ the note said as it laid perfectly on the box.

you opened it, finding a silk, white dress. it was beautiful.

funny enough, it seemed like a total coincidence that stormshadow’s suit also happened to be white.

a while later you were ready for the mission. you looked in the mirror one last time and headed down.

then came a ring of the doorbell.

6:30pm sharp. what a gentleman.

as you opened the front door, you were met with a familiar face, stormshadow. he seemed to had been in awe as you waited for his reaction.

“how do i look?” you asked nervously, biting your lip as you waited for an answer.

“give me a twirl.”

you spun on your heel, watching as the dress flowed almost magically with you.

“beautiful.” he smiled, extending his arm for you to take as he led you to the car.

✶ ──── 🀀 ──── ✶

when you reached the restaurant, your jaw dropped. it was the most luxurious place you had ever seen.

the walls were pitch black, decorated with sleek lights that dimly lit the whole place, causing you to stand out.

“i feel stupid.” you told him as you walked.

you were never used to such affluence. but ever since you had taken this job working with cobra you had been exposed to more and more richness. still, it was like a fever-dream.

“you’re far from that, y/n…” he replied, “now, just entertain him for the night, keep him interested but don’t let him push it too far. if anything goes wrong, i’ll be right there.”

you looked towards where he pointed, it wasn’f too far from your table. he was stationed at the bar.

and with that, the mission had begun.

you tried your best to stay intrigued by the things the baron was saying, you really did. but in all honesty, you couldn’t be bothered. often, you eyes wandered to the bar, hoping to catch s glimpse of stormshadow.

when you did happen to see him, he would give you a reassuring smile. almost as if he was letting you know that he still had your back. and that kept you going for the night.

when the excruciating dinner finally came to an end, the baron asked to send you home. however, you politely declined.

he didn’t take it well.

“c’mon, we can have a little fun at your place to.” he tried but failed to sound seductive.

“oh, no, my driver’s picking me up-”

the baron grabbed your arm.

“i think i’ve earned it.” he insisted, pulling you closer as you gave him a nervous chuckle.

stormshadow watched as his grip on his glass tightened. he thought of interfering but he knew it would compromise the mission, so he sat still, holding back whatever anger he was feeling inside.

“seriously, i shouldn’t. my driver’s outside.” you told the baron in a strict tone, making him finally stop insisting. instead, he put on a fake smile, bringing your hand up to his lips.

“i’ll see you soon, y/n.”

you put on your best geniune fake smile and took off.

once you got into the car you felt like you could breathe again. you let out a loud sigh and kicked off your heels.

then, the door opened, stormshadow swiftly got in to the seat beside you as the driver drove off.

✶ ──── 🀀 ──── ✶

the car ride was painfully silent, stormshadow hadn’t uttered a single word since he stepped in.

you took it as a sign that maybe he changed his mind, wanting to keep things more professional from now on.

when the car stopped, you picked up your heels and left without a word, heading back to your room.

“what do you think you’re doing?” stormshadow called out to you as he chased you down the hall.

“going to bed.” you said, not stopping.

“y/n, wait.” he jogged up to you, stopling you in your tracks just before you could enter your room.

“what are you doing?” it was your turn to ask now. he shook his head as a smile appeared on his face once more.

“is something wrong?”

“yeah, what’s wrong is you acting all sweet and nice to me since we met but right after dinner you’re like a whole new person!” you almost shouted, throwing your hand up in the air in defeat. “do you want to be professional? we can ditch the whole first name basis then and-”

“no.”

“w-what?”

“i didn’t like seeing the baron touch you like that.” stormshadow admitted, looking away embarrassed.

“but i’m okay, i got away.” you said softly, cupping his face to face you.

“i’ll kill him if he ever touches you again.”

your eyes widened, surely he didn’t mean it.

“you shoulder get some rest.” you told him, taking it as a joke. you brushed the now messy strays hairs away from his eyes. “thank you.”

you slowly leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek before you entered your room.

stormshadow laid awake that night, his mind replaying how the baron had touched your delicate skin. he wanted to be the only one that had gotten close enough to do that.

that night, he made a silent promise to himself that from then on, no one would even come close to touching you unless it was him. he would eliminate anyone that got in his way.

✶ ──── 🀀 ──── ✶

a while later, he had been assigned once again to accompany you to yet another date with the baron.

he was thrilled to be able to see you again, but the thought of you spending time with someone else while he sat there watching helplessly angered him.

the entire time as you were there with the baron, he sulked in a corner, eyes practically shooting daggers into the man that sat across you.

but things took a turn as you followed the baron back to his place.

to you, it was merely so you could gain access to his house, studying the layout and figuring out where he could possibly have kept the secret codes.

but to stormshadow, you were in danger. he knew what men like the baron could do to a pretty woman like you and he was going to do everything he could to prevent it.

“come, let’s go to my bedroom.” the baron said as he took your hand, leading you.

as the two of you got to his room, he started being more touchy with you. his hands wandered from your arm to your waist and to the back of your dress.

but before anything else could happen, he stopped. you cocked your eyebrow as his face suddenly contorted in pain, his mouth agape as he let out a silent cry for help.

then, he had fallen onto the floor at your feet. that’s when you saw it. a knofe was sticking out from his back, blood pooling and seeping into the million dollar carpet.

then, stormshadow came out from hiding, stepping out into the light.

“jesus! did you do that?!” you cursed, seeing the now dead baron at the foot of his own bed.

“i told you i’d kill him if he touched you again.”

you looked up at him in shock, he wasn’t joking.

before you could comprehend the situation, stormshadow grabbed your neck, pulling you flush against him as his lips found yours.

you easily melted right into the kiss, deepening it as he let out a low groan.

the kiss was messy, with teeth and tongue as both your mouths fought for dominace. but before you could’ve taken it further, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

“sir? is everything alright?”

shit.

✶ ──── 🀀 ──── ✶

( g.i. joe: rise of cobra - 2009)

[rowie264]

For me it's easier to sympathize zaunite characters rather than piltovan ones simply because they have self-awareness

Silco knows he flooded Zaun with drugs, he knows what this shit does to people. He does it anyway to achieve his main goal - Nation of Zaun.

Jinx is aware she is crazy. She basically spells it out in s1 ep9. She knows that she killing ppl is bad. She just doesn't care

Sevika is Silco's right hand man. She does dirty job for him and and understands perfectly well how his methods affect Zaun. She doesn't even question it because his methods work, and as long as they work, she will work with him.

Singed is just the same. He'll do anything for his daughter no matter how horrific his actions are. He doesn't justify it, simply states it was "for love".

And what we have with piltovan characters? You see because s2 is trying to pretend that oppression wasn't such big thing all piltovan characters looks even worse.

Caitlyn gasses people (and not only barons and their goons, gas spreads), using her priveledge as a Sheriff and Councilor's daughter. She never adresses that and never spells out what had she'd done. Like, yeah, she says "we can't erase our mistakes" (s2 ep8) probably not meaning just Jinx's but also her own but that's so… shallow. Like writers couldn't let her really say aloud what she'd done and face consequences bc it would makes bad things too real.

Heimerdinger was one of the founders of Piltover and councilor. He either didn't know, either didn't care to figure out what happens in Undercity for decades. Like, he goes to Zaun after he gets kicked out from Council and finally realises how badly ppl live there but… he just closes his eyes on it? Again?

Jayce killed that kid in s1 and regretted it but once his mother tries to revenge him? Builds weapons immidiately as countermeasure and moves on. He kills dozens of zaunites in Viktor's commune by killing Viktor and doesn't show even a hint of remorse. Like yeah, they were gonna become creepy robots but you know they were still humans when he killed Viktor. Also he (with approval of the Council for sure) places that Hexgates' big core (dont remember how that shit was called) underground and if that thing would blow up Zaun would be left without water and fresh air. Spelled out by Ekko and immediately forgotten.

In the end by removing characters' awareness of their actions and lack of reflection makes piltovan characters either hypocrites, either stupid, either both. And no, i don't want all these characters to be punished for what they did (all chars - except Ekko maybe - would end up in jail lol) I just want characters to realize what they did. I want impact of their actions/inactions. I want real consequences. I want them to face these consequences, not just brush it aside. And then i want them to act according to their personalities, even if i personally wouldn't like what they'd do.

[lush-lavenders]

❀Late Bloomer❀

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: You are late to enter society, but that doesn't mean you don't catch anyone's eye...

Request: Nope

Author’s Note: Sooo I'm really bad about disappearing. But recently I've been binging Bridgerton and been in the mood to write, so here we are!

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None, just fluff here

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!I don’t own this gif!

Dearest Reader,

It has come to my attention that a Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), youngest daughter to Baron Arthur (Y/L/N), is making her debut, mid-season. Not only that, but she is almost one and twenty!

While this author cannot see the future, she can certainly predict it (and I do predict it well) - this season will be nothing if not eventful for Baron (Y/L/N) children.

—

As you stepped into the ballroom, the flutter in your stomach threatened to escape from your mouth. 

Lady Whistledown had come out this morning, and your mother was enthralled by the mere mention of your name. This made her fuss over you all day, needing to make your debut even more ‘perfect.’ 

You tried on three different dresses before the right one was picked out. You had five hairstyles tried out before your mother decided on the very first one. You had spent two hours out in search of the perfect matching earrings and necklace.

You were exhausted by the time you had to get ready, and severely tense as you arrived at Lady Danbury’s ball.

Cassandra, your sister-in-law, squeezed your arm softly. “Take a deep breath. This is just a party.”

You quickly took a breath, sighing it out. “That is easy for you to say. You married my brother in your first season after courting for a week.”

Cassie opened her mouth probably to give you more words of encouragement when your brother butted in. “We cannot stand here and talk all night. You need to present yourself to suitors.”

Before you could even think about protesting, Matthew walked ahead of you with Cassie on his arm, leaving you to trail behind.

—

“That there is Miss Buchan, she’s the only child of Earl Buchan.” The dowager Viscountess Bridgerton was discreetly pointing out young ladies to her two eldest sons, whose attentions would rather be anywhere else.

Benedict was scanning the room for someone he could use to politely excuse himself from his mother’s matchmaking. 

It would be an understatement to say he wasn’t interested in marrying yet. He had just recently started at Art School and wanted nothing more than to enjoy his work as a bachelor.

That’s when he spotted Lady Danbury. Normally he avoided the woman, as she could be as scheming as his mother, but she seemed like his only refuge.

“Excuse me, Mother, but I believe I should give my regards to Lady Danbury for the invite.” Benedict bowed to Violet before quickly heading off in the direction of the hostess. 

He thought about turning away last minute, evading all the prying eyes of those who might want to set him up, but something caught his attention - the once-alone lady of the house was now talking with a young lady. One he had yet to see in the sea of lovely debutantes. 

“Mr. Bridgerton!” Lady Danbury’s distinct voice cleared his mind as he approached. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She knew better than anyone that the Bridgerton boys tried to avoid her at these balls.

Benedict bowed, offering a smile. “Lady Danbury, I just wanted to compliment your wonderful party.”

Lady Danbury raised her, knowing that there was an ulterior motive. She glanced at where Violet Bridgerton was standing with her eldest, noticing her eyes were following her second child.

She flashed a scheming smile and turned her attention back to the young lady she was with. “Where are my manners? Miss (Y/N), this is Mr. Benedict Bridgerton. Mr. Bridgerton, may I present to you Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N). This is her first ball, so I expect you to be on your best behavior. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should go talk to your mother.” 

She gave him a little pat on the shoulder, pushing him towards you as she went to Violet.

You lightly curtseyed as Benedict bowed his head to you. As you stood up straight, you froze, staring into the most beautiful blue eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the man’s features, stunned that someone such as him could be before you.

“Miss (Y/L/N).” He took your gloved hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing the gentlest kiss one could muster.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you returned, not knowing what else to say. He had captured any words that might formulate within you.

His grasp lingered on your hand, longer than one might consider proper. It was good that the two of you were sequestered to the back of the ball.

At least you had thought you were hidden away.

A hand and sudden voice from behind told you how wrong you were.

“(Y/N), we have been looking for you. We turned around and you had disappeared.” Cassie let go of her husband to take your arm. “Who might you be talking to?” She asked, hiding the joy she felt for her best friend talking to a very eligible bachelor.

Benedict bowed to her and introduced himself before you could do it. “Benedict Bridgerton, at your service.” He joked lightly, and you bit your lip softly as you smiled.

“Bridgerton,” Matthew said as he bowed his head. “I’ve done quite a bit of business with your brother.”

If it wasn’t for Cassie being between you, you would have elbowed your brother right in the ribs for creating such a boring conversation.

Luckily, Cassie was thinking similarly enough to you. “Now now, my love. I’m sure Mr. Bridgerton does not need to hear about his own brother.”

Benedict chuckled, agreeing with her. “Yes, well, as well not needing to hear from him.” He joked, just as a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Well, Brother, maybe I shall take a look at your allowance?” Viscount Bridgerton came up out of the blue.

It seems as though each of your siblings was trying to prevent the two of you from speaking.

And they just kept coming.

Eloise Bridgerton arrived next, in an effort to escape from her mother. “Anthony, Benedict, you really must not leave me alone with Mama.” She sounded sort of breathless as if she had rushed here.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling parched. “Pardon me…” You muttered to no one in particular. Matthew and the Viscount seemed to be conversing about business, while Eloise tried to convince Benedict to return to their mother for her.

Cassie silently went along with you, still holding your arm.

You were silent as you made your way to the refreshments table, grabbing the first glass in front of you. You tried to appear as ladylike as possible while you practically gulped down the lemonade.

“I am so sorry for our interruption, (Y/N),” Cassie said after you had finished. “I did not realize you were speaking with a Bridgerton.” 

You shook your head, setting the glass down. “It’s alright. We didn’t really start to converse yet.” Not that you had the chance.

She picked up a glass herself and took a sip, her thoughts lingering. “You seemed… quite enamored with him.”

You scoffed, but not in a way to be rude. “Did you even look at him, Cassie? He’s…” You were at a loss for words as your gaze landed back on the Bridgerton in question. His eyes were wandering, ignoring both of your brothers. They wandered and wandered… until they eventually landed.

On you.

Your eyes met for the second time that night, but this time you quickly looked away, cheeks growing hot. 

That wasn’t before you noticed his perk up and began heading in your direction.

“Cassie, he’s coming over here. What do I do?” You ask in a panic. The only men you’ve ever really talked to were your father and brother, and neither counted towards this.

She put both hands on your shoulders, making you look at her. “Just be yourself.”

That’s the best advice you have, you thought to yourself.

You barely had the time to think up a response when Benedict made it to you, bowing his head again in greeting. “Mrs. and Miss (Y/L/N).”

You both courtesy, Cassie standing up before you. “I believe my husband needs me.” She says before snicking off, leaving you two alone.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you say after a moment, lifting your eyes to take a look at his features. Features that seem to be drilled into your mind from the beginning of the night. “Has my brother bored you so much you seek me out?” You joke in a self-deprecating manner, knowing you aren’t exactly worthy of his attention.

He smiled at your humor but shook his head. “Our brothers together are an apparent force to be reckoned with, but it is not them that brings me here. It’s you.”

Your breath caught in your chest at those last two words.

He actually wanted to be around you. There is nothing you could’ve hoped for more.

He looked around your surroundings before having you take his arm. “It gets so stuffy in here, does it not? Let us get some fresh air.”

“Just the two of us?” You asked with raised eyebrows. You had never been left, unchaperoned; yet the thought of it, with Benedict… it excited you.

He smiled a crooked but sweet smile. “Only if we leave now, while no one’s watching.”

You smile back, looking around as you follow him quickly into the hall before going out a backdoor into the gardens.

In the first few moments you observed him under the moonlight, your whole future played out. Everything centered around him.

[almostnugget]

anyway, nobody asked but here’s how i would have done season six!!

establish the documentary is ending soon from the first or second episode to give us an overarching background plot as well as all the characters the idea that if this is the end, they should rly go balls to the wall about it

keep the cannon capital storyline but use it as a way to better emphasize that guillermo is not meant for a normal human life (he’s literally a slayer, he was never meant for human life)

use the monster storyline to somewhat revisit laszlo raising colin (think like the episode with laszlo’s father but a lil more than a one-off, just to give that storyline some proper closure)

sidenote? maybe actually have laszlo and colin make a bride for the monster but in true fashion, the bride doesn’t want anything to do with the monster and ykw, she doesn’t have to 🤷🏻‍♀️ maybe she dates the guide instead who fucking knows

SURPRISINGLY keep nandor being in love with the guide but when he confesses/hints at it to her, she shuts it down like in canon but the affection stops there and nandor is once again forced to decide what he Really wants…

just more of the baron i think. missed him.

more nadja experimenting in human life (like i said, we keep the cannon capitol storyline so she still gets to work there and then become strangely aware of human emotions like in the finale)

yes canon nandermo. but it would be progressively hinted at more and more as the season goes on (possible confession ft clips from the documentary crew where nandor slipped up over the seasons and hinted at more feelings for guillermo than we were lead to believe bc he always hypnotized them to cut it out) (hence why he says he’s glad there will be no more filming)

more laszlo and nadja simply bc i love them a lot and i just always think we need more why lie

AKA using the BONES of the season but doing it better!! making it all more meaningful and tying up open storylines but still keeping in mind this is the horny shitty vampires show at its core

[seresinhangmanjake]

Could we please get Feyd x reader where they have an arranged marriage with feyd and the House Harkonnen expects her to be replused by him . But instead reader is completely obsessed with him and finds him so hot because he is lol and he can do no wrong. LOVE YOUR FEYD STORIES 💌

Unexpected

Feyd-Rautha x Reader

Notes/Warnings: None, i think. I mean, arranged marriages? That's not really a warning though. Anyway, i fear this kind of sucks. My writing has been messed up lately. Hopefully, you guys still enjoy it anyway.

Words: 2100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

They’ve been chattering for what has felt like hours—going on about dresses and parties, servant boys they find particularly interesting—and at some point, your mind could no longer take the dull droning, and so you drifted onto thoughts of him. 

You know everything about him, read everything about his family. You saw his face in an updated textbook about the Great Houses, drawn in what you hope is a perfect likeness, because if it is, then he’s absolutely stunning. You’ve never seen anything like the Harkonnens, but then again, they look like no one else. They’re wholly unique and you want everything to do with them—well, specifically, everything to do with Feyd-Rautha. 

“I can’t believe they’re marrying you off to him,” one of your friends—the daughter of House Wallach—says.

You snap out of your thoughts, wondering when the conversation turned toward you and your soon-to-be husband. You hum in question, needing more time to provide an answer that won’t induce raised brows and dropped jaws. 

“Yes,” the other says—Duke Leto’s daughter, whose bedroom balcony you’re currently sitting on. “How can they do that to you? You’re their only daughter and they are giving you to a murderous House.”

“We’re all murderous Houses,” you quickly say, and from receiving the blank stares you’d hoped to avoid, raise your teacup to your lips to hide your blush. You take a sip, then continue. “What I mean is, history states we’ve all dealt with bloody hands. That’s how our families are where they are.”

“Well, the rest of us don’t kill anymore. Our families are praised, worshipped.”

“So are the Harkonnens.”

“Out of fear,” Wallach reminds you. “The Baron is vile, as if you don’t know, and he trained Feyd-Rautha to be just as insane.”

Insane. That word has been used a lot lately. Your mother shouts it at your father for his willing agreement with the Baron. Your servants whisper it amongst themselves when they think you cannot hear them. That boy is insane, they say. She’s doomed, they say. But you don’t see it that way. You’re not scared of Feyd-Rautha. You’ll admit you don’t so much care for the Baron, but that’s because you’ve heard of his treatment of your future husband.

People claim Feyd-Rautha’s a lapdog—you don’t believe that. From what you’ve learned, you see no puppy in Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. You see a lion on the prowl, biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike from below. You see a man hunting his dinner. You hope upon meeting, he gobbles you up as well. 

“Aren’t you terrified?” Atreides asks. “Don’t you think about your first night with him?”

You certainly do. Another sip of tea hides another blush. “I’m not worried.”

Wallach blows out a huff of breath. “Maybe you’re as insane as he is.”

Yes, you think maybe you are. 

—

Your mother struggles to hand you over. You’re the one who has to pry her gripping fingers from your arm so you can step forward and bow to the Baron. When you rise, you sneak a peek at Feyd-Rautha just to his uncle’s right. He’s as beautiful as his picture depicted. His eyes are just as glazed over with steel as you imagined. He looks at you, and the steel melts ever so slightly. His brow pinches. He swallows hard. 

“I trust my daughter will be well taken care of,” your father says, a puff expanding his chest. It makes him look no more menacing than he is. 

The Baron chuckles. “In the hands of my nephew, you can expect no less.”

You know it’s a lie. One corner of Feyd-Rautha’s lips quirks upward. He has plans for you—good. You like plans. You have plans of your own. 

He steps down the staircase that has held him above you and your family and takes your hand in his. He presses his lips to your knuckles. Your blood zings throughout your veins. If this is all it takes for you to feel this way, you can’t imagine what more will do to you. The thought of his lips in new places, his tongue in new places, makes your eyelids flutter. 

“My Lady,” he says. His voice is intoxicatingly low. 

“My Lord,” you say back to him. 

When you smile at him, the smirk drops from his face and his head jerks back. Cold, blue eyes scan your features for falsities, as if you wear a mask he can remove to reveal a frown. He watches that frown fall into place only when your mother comes up behind you. 

“Oh, my sweet daughter,” she cries, whipping your body around so she can properly hug you goodbye. “Don’t let them change you,” she whispers in your ear. “You’re too lovely for them.”

“I’ll be fine,” you tell her. You’ll be more than fine. This is the most excited you’ve been in years. And you knew it would be. That’s what he brings out of you…already. 

—

He likes you. Well, he likes you in a way—he likes the look of you—but it’s hard to say if he likes the rest of you yet. He sneaks glances where he can, but he doesn’t often allow you to be in his presence for long. He removes you from his training sessions when you peek in to watch. He leaves once you join for dinner, which you’re less than a fan of, considering it leaves you to his brother and uncle’s company. He does not come find you to say goodnight. 

Don’t you have better things to do, he’s often snipped at you when he finds you close by. You’ve assumed he means in preparation for the wedding in a week, but you told your new servants and planners to do whatever they want. You don’t care what the damn wedding will look like. You don’t care what you’ll look like. You just want him. You want to be around him. Watch him fight. Watch his muscles tense and shift and strain in the war of death. You want to see his body shine with sweat and his eyes harden with a murderous glare. But he won’t let you.

The closest you’ve been able to get to what you want is by sitting in the stands of the arena, where you have to observe his skills from a decent distance. And while it is wildly exciting to see the man you’re going to marry covered in the blood of enemies, you wish you could be closer. You wish you were close enough so he could grin at you as men’s bodies fall off of his blade. You wish he wanted you close to him because it’s killing you to be so far away. 

After days, you still don’t understand the separation. You figured your smiles at him would be enough to get the message across that if he likes you in any sense of the word, then he should be going for you as much as you would him if he’d permit it, but no. He keeps his space between you. Unfortunately for him, you’re sick of it. 

—

“I’m tired of you avoiding me,” you call as you chase after him down the darkened hallway. You’d been waiting outside his training room for hours, hoping his keen senses couldn't pick up your unsteady breathing as you prepared yourself for this exact confrontation. 

His steps stutter at your words and he pauses. He turns on his heel, and with narrowed eyes, advances on you. His form towers over yours, and in any other situation, you might detest the abuse of power, but here, now, you feel a sharp thrill. You try not to let his lack of shirt affect what more you intend to say, but it’s hard. You’re already swallowing saliva. You’re core is already throbbing. 

“Do you have a moment?” you ask.

Feyd’s muscles tighten and bulge as his arms cross over his chest. He huffs. “I don’t understand you. You’re like a little rodent, you know,” he says. “Following me around as if I drop crumbs for you.”

A lump catches in your throat. He hasn’t spoken much to you since your arrival on Giedi Prime, and you know cruelty runs through the Harkonnen bloodline, but you didn’t know he could cut so deeply with words. “I’m not a rodent.”

“You’re as annoying as one.”

“Because I want to be around you?” you ask. “Because I like you–”

His arms fall away from his chest and your head flinches back from the finger pointed at your nose. “You do not like me,” he snaps.

His voice, though low, bounces off the walls of the hall, an echoey repeating of those words that you almost can’t believe you’re having to hear. You’ve not given any indication that what you’re telling him could possibly be a lie, so you don’t see how he could come to that conclusion. Unless there are whispers in his ear. 

“Yes, I do,” you say. “I’m marrying you. I want to marry you.”

“You are not supposed to want that,” he spits.

“Well, I do!” you spit back. 

“Then you don’t make sense!”

You don’t know what that means, so you just stand there, staring at one another as you wait for him to explain further. He doesn’t, and you tire of the waiting, so instead, you take a risk by stepping closer, and with cautious fingers, you raise your hand to his chest. Your palm plants firmly against his skin, and then you feel it. His heart beating rapidly. For a second you think it’s from the training. But then you look up at him, at how his jaw clenches and how he struggles to meet your eyes. And now you understand.

“I like what you are,” you tell him. “I like that you’re strong. I don’t care that you kill. I don’t care that you crave the feeling it gives you.”

“You should care,” he says, still avoiding your gaze. “You’re meant to be a precious little Lady. That’s what I was promised.”

“And that is what you wanted for a wife?” He doesn’t give you an answer. “I’m sorry if you’re disappointed–” he snorts, irritating you further. “I’m sorry if that ruins whatever fun you intended to have with me. I know the Baron has been eager to see what you’ll do to me once we’re married.”

His head swivels back to yours. “He found enjoyment from the idea that you’d be repulsed by me,” he says. “And so did I. So you shouldn’t feel so comfortable.” He latches his fingers to your wrist and jerks your hand away from his body. His hand leaves yours. It falls back to your side and you instantly feel a chill without him. It won’t do. You see a glimpse of your marriage—a loneliness, a cold side of your bed. He begins to turn away from you. 

“You don’t now?”

He stops. “What?”

“You said you did find enjoyment in it,” you repeat. “Do you still?”

You can see his teeth grinding with the shifting of his jaw as he contemplates continuing this conversation. “They said you wouldn’t like me,” he finally tells you. 

“But I do,” you say. “I read about you. I liked you before I met you.”

He groans. His hand runs down his face. He steps back to you, an iciness penetrating your stare. “I had plans for you. Ones you weren’t going to enjoy.”

A smirk curls your lips. “I had plans for you, too. Ones I fully intended to enjoy.”

He sucks in a breath, his chest puffing. His eyes narrow as if searching for your lies. 

Without another thought, you reach up again and, placing your palms on his cheeks, raise onto your toes to press your lips to his. It might be idiotic of you. It might be the stupidest move you could make. He might gut you for the act, marriage alliance be damned. But the only interest you have is in getting your point across. 

His lips are soft—probably one of the few soft spots on him—and they taste of salt from the sweat of his training. He’s frozen for a few agonizing beats, but then nails are digging into the skin of your hips, the fabric of your dress doing nothing to keep the sharp sting at bay. Lips move in tune with yours. You’re pushed backward. You hit the wall, trapped between hard surfaces of stone and body. 

You ache for the man you’ve felt you’ve known for longer than you have. You ache for the heat of him. You knew it would feel like this. 

When the kiss breaks, you smile. “You’ll like me,” you tell him. “I promise.”

He sighs in defeat and says, “I know.”

[moonstruckme]

Prince Sirius plz? 🥺 only if you want to

Thank you for requesting!

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’d thought originally that the dinner was set remarkably early, but three hours in, when everyone had finally stood from the table after the fourth course, you finally understood why you’d sat down to eat midafternoon. You’re beginning to worry you’ll be here all night. You wonder if princesses are allowed to fake headaches. 

“Yes, of course,” you say, relieved that the baron whose name you can’t recall seems to be exiting the conversation. “It was really lovely meeting you.” 

He inclines his head, smiling in a way you can’t decipher. (Is he onto you, or is he just being kind? He’s been perfectly friendly while you’ve spoken, but for all you know he could go and snitch to the Queen about what an embarrassment you are straight away.) “You as well,” he says politely. “I hope we’ll have a chance to get to know each other better soon.” 

“Oh, I’m sure we will,” you reply, though of course you’re sure of nothing. For the life of you, you can’t even conjure an idea of who this man is. But thankfully, he’s backing away without seeming to have noticed your ignorance. “Nice speaking to you!” 

You take a breath once he’s gone, glancing around to be sure no one else has set their sights on you for the moment. The atmosphere in the dining room really isn’t as intimidating as it feels in your head. The decor screams old money, but the dark wood table and chairs make things feel a bit more cozy, and a gas fireplace at one end of the room keeps you all warm while casting a natural, orangey light on the people closest. You’d gravitated towards it instinctively, not realizing that of course everyone else would do the same. You cover a yawn with your hand, somehow at once on edge and exhausted.

“Well done.” You jump at the smooth voice behind you, only to recognize it a second later. Your head turns just as Sirius comes around you, a brief touch to your elbow serving as an apology for startling you. He’s smiling, that practiced, extra-suave one you’ve become familiar with seeing at these functions. 

“That was good,” he tells you. “Did you know who that was?” 

You shake your head, smiling too in relief at seeing him. “No clue.” 

Sirius inclines his head like suspected. There’s a sparkle in the corner of his eye as it catches the light, and you realize he’s wearing an almost imperceptible amount of glittery makeup. Your lips give a tug. You’ve noticed that whenever Sirius is with his family, he’ll do anything to set himself apart from them—whatever he thinks he can get away with. He slouches, or he talks to someone his parents appear to be shunning, or he wears a dark gray just slightly distinguishable from their pitch black. You can’t help but admire his boldness; stepping even an inch out of line with any of the royals you’ve met terrifies you, and from what you’ve gleaned Sirius’ parents aren’t the most forgiving of the bunch. 

“Well,” he says, “you passed it off rather well. You know he was flirting with you, right?” 

You feel your mouth drop open before the tilt of Sirius’ lips reminds you to close it. “He was not.” 

“Oh, come on.” Sirius raises a brow. “He wasn’t being subtle about it, don’t tell me you didn’t notice. He asked for you to show him around the grounds.” 

“That seems normal.” 

“Doll, you’ve been at the palace less than a month. Everyone here tonight knows these grounds better than you do. He obviously only wanted to be alone with you.” 

The reminder of your newness doesn't sting because you know Sirius doesn’t mean for it to. Your ignorance, however, is like a bruise that keeps being pressed every day you’re here. 

“Oh god,” you close your eyes, laughing despairingly. “What am I supposed to do about that?” 

“Don’t worry.” Sirius gifts you with another smile, one of his real ones. “Word will get out that we’re courting soon enough, and anyone who has less-than-professional intentions will know to keep away.”

“Right. Okay.” The idea of yours and Sirius’ fake courting doesn’t frighten you as much as it did at the conception of the plan. At the moment, you actually find it rather reassuring. You catch yourself covering another yawn. 

Sirius tuts. “Long night, hm? Poor thing.” 

Warmth tickles your cheeks. There’s teasing in the bent of his voice, but Sirius’ expression is tender, genuine. His eyes hold an increasingly familiar kindness. 

“This has gone longer than I thought it would,” you admit. “This dress isn’t super comfortable, either. When you said it would be nice, I was thinking I’d be wearing a nice sweater, not anything as formal as this.” 

Sirius shrugs, the shoulders of his suit jacket moving stiffly. “I know; it’s a lot of posturing. You look stunning, if that’s any consolation.” 

You bite down on a shy smile. You’ve learned the best way to endure Sirius’ compliments, since he won’t stop giving them, is simply to brush right past. He doles them out like candy anyway. “Do women always have to wear dresses to these things?” He nods, and you grimace. “It seems a little…” 

“Elitist? Pompous? Misogynistic?”

“I was going to say old fashioned.” 

Sirius grins. “You’re kinder than I am, gorgeous.” 

You almost roll your eyes, but stop yourself when you remember you’re not alone. 

Sirius glances around, lowering his voice. “If you want to leave,” he says, “we could always say you’re showing me around the grounds.” 

Your lips give a tug. “Didn’t you just say that was an obvious excuse?” 

“So what? We’re supposed to be courting anyway. Our families will probably have a toast the minute after we sneak off.” 

You shake your head at him, still fighting a grin. “You are going to absolutely entrench me in scandal, aren’t you?” 

Sirius’ eyelid sparkles as he drops one in a wink. “Sooner or later.” 

“Fair enough. Let me show you about the grounds,” you say, voice just barely loud enough for the courtier lingering nearest you to hear as you loop your arm through Sirius’. His brazenness must be catching. He puts on a good show of looking pleased and eager as you lead him towards the door. You lean over, murmuring, “Do you think we can change, too? I’m desperate for my cozies.” 

Sirius grins at you as though you’ve said something wonderful. He fits his arm around your waist, drawing you close just as you exit the room. 

“You’re adorable,” he says, the pretension gone from his voice now that you’re alone. “Of course we can. You’ll have to lend me your sweatpants again, though; I won’t be left out.” 

[higuchisora]

Seeing as they clearly didn't know what the hell to do with Jinx/the political repercussions of her bombing the council in season 2, I'd like to explore the possibilities of how Zaun would've reacted to this that would've made way more sense than what we saw.

1. Jinx becomes an extremely controversial figure.

Few are neutral to her. This would be largely because, outside of knowing she blew up the council, no one actually knows WHY. What were her motives? Were they politically charged? Was she trying to start a war? What exactly was her goal? It was never really stated that she was infamous prior to this, but I recall in season 1 act 2 that when Vi went looking for her, people knew OF Jinx, and that she worked for Silco, but weren't really aware of any further details. So those that are aware of her connection to Silco- who objectively did make many of their lives worse with Shimmer- wouldn't be happy. They'd be scared of what will come next.

Those who don't know/don't care might fill in the blanks with their own guesses, maybe that she's some kind of activist- which would split them further into the subgroups of "Oh fuck the enforcers are gonna kill us and it's her fault" and "Finally, a war!" The second of which I'd argue would actually be a very small group. I could imagine the Jinxers being seen by the rest of Zaun as crazy radicals who don't know what they're getting themselves into/are gonna drag the rest of Zaun into danger. I think it would cause a LOT of infighting. Like a civil war inside another civil war.

How Jinx would handle this would be.... interesting. Especially if the Jinxers start making moves on their own. She never really shows much interest in activism- she works for Silco because he's her new dad, and while she doesn't seem to DISAGREE with his opinions, it doesn't seem she's all that invested in actually working to make it happen beyond just wanting to help her dad. His death seemed to take her interest with it.

Now, they could either lean into this, and make people question her motives/actions because of her clear disinterest, maybe increasing some of the controversy around her (no follow through on her action, letting Zaunites suffer the consequences, etc.), or they could make her actually take a genuine personal interest in it. But that, I think, would take a bigger arc that might be more work for arguably less payoff when considering you'd probably have to change a great deal of her character to do it, especially when you could probably achieve similar plot points/outcomes even without her intentionally becoming a political figurehead.

2. Zaun becomes fractured politically/other "symbols" of Zaun

This can be in tandem with idea 1, actually, but can still be it's own idea. Basically, after the fall of the council, and Silco's death, Zaunites are terrified. They've been run so far by Vander, Silco, and then some vague council-like oligarchy of Chem-Barons, who could be interpreted as functioning like very large gangs. The Chem-Barons have always been around, but with Silco's sudden death (and no one who was primed/expecting to replace him), this leaves a massive power vacuum that the Chem-Barons and smaller gangs are scrambling to come out on top of.

The fear of the unknown and the extreme instability would lead to people desperately throwing their lot in with whoever they think would be a better/less dangerous leader, and by extension, political symbol. Season 2 shows a bunch of new people joining the Firelights. In that case, I can imagine that before long, several new potential leaders surface, even if they didn't expect it. Namely, Ekko, Jinx, and Sevika.

Ekko because as I said, people were apparently coming to his base in droves. They don't tell us Jack shit about the Firelights besides the fact that A) Ekko leads them B) they don't fuck with Silco OR Piltover C) Piltover thinks they're terrorists and D) they look rad as fuck. That being said, considering Ekko's Everything, I think we can all gather a general picture of what the Firelights are about. Plus his cool tree would be a great symbol (@srslylini for the idea) of growth, healing, etc.

Sevika, because those that knew her as Silco's second might be hoping for some kind of stability with her. Even if they didn't like Silco, it's better the enemy you know and all that jazz. They'd feel safer with someone who at least seems to know what they're doing, even if Sevika herself has no interest in becoming a leader. I think some would just naturally gravitate towards who they see as "second in line". This could also be in connection to Jinx, as she could possibly been seen as someone who could "rein" Jinx in (again, most people don't actually KNOW Jinx, they just know OF her and that she worked for Silco and was volatile. Think how Finn referred to her as Silco's "attack dog").

Speaking of Jinx, she'd probably be treated similarly to idea 1. Extremely polarizing. Her followers would be seen as crazy, like she is. They'd be seen as warmongers and/or people who have no idea what they're getting themselves into. They'd basically be seen as the stereotypical "young rebels". The average Zaunite would see the average Jinxer as a young, angry, maybe idealistic radical who doesn't understand the cost of war. I'd argue that, again, they'd probably be the smallest and most controversial group just because most people don't necessarily WANT a war, even if they're willing to fight for it. And the suddenness of the bombing would've scared even some of the rebels who DO want war, because they weren't prepared. It wasn't a PLANNED attack, so both Zaun AND Piltover are basically caught with their pants down, which would also bring some ire from the other Zaunites.

There's another option for a faction I'd like to explore, also thanks to srslylini (thank you icon), but it takes a bit of setting up.

In a hypothetical situation in which Vi did NOT become an enforcer, I think it would happen like this: Vi hangs around in Piltover at first out of guilt/feeling like she has nowhere else to go. She's still not on board with being an enforcer, but she attends the memorial out of a sense of obligation. Her and Caitlyn have a falling out over Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", and here is where she storms off and goes back to Zaun, with the final words to Caitlyn that "You Pilties are all the fucking same" (or something to that effect). She's still feeling lost, and so maybe this is where she stumbles around, having maybe a similar pitfighting arc (just not as distraught, more like she's broke and angry and has to pay rent somehow so she might as well get paid to punch someone's face in). Because she's not in a massive spiral, there's unfortunately no emo arc (sad), but the bright side of this is that she's recognizable. I don't think she's FAMOUS, per say, but Babette and Ekko recognized her right off the bat in season 1 (yes you can say Ekko was really close to her, but Babette? C'mon), and considering she was older than Powder when she went off to prison, I don't think it's a stretch to assume her face was a little better-known than her sister's (especially considering she was already going on jobs, and in act 1 she gets into a fight with Deckard who I'm pretty sure knew her name, but not Powder's).

This is to say, I think a lot of the "old heads" knew who she was, especially those who liked Vander. It helps that she tattooed her name on her face LMAO. So I'd imagine she'd show up in the ring, no hair dye no makeup, and eventually after consistently knocking her opponents around and winning every time, she'd become a bit locally famous again- to the point that those same "old heads" who remember her make the connection and come looking. Maybe rumors start swirling, especially once they learn she was gone because she'd been in prison- not unheard of, and probably the first conclusion they drew when they realized she wasn't dead.

So eventually Vander's old followers/younger people who idolized him from their childhood start seeking her out. Sensationalizing her. Asking her what she's planning on doing. Is she taking back the Lanes? Will she get those Chem-Barons under control? What about Jinx? Could she hunt her down, rein her in? Hell, maybe even put her to use? Will you give us our relative safety, our security back?

And Vi, who just wanted to knock some heads around and maybe take a nap in her apartment and cry, is suddenly faced with being "Vander 2.0" and Jinx is the new "Silco 2.0" and all the weight of expectations and legacy and history and literal war and politics are being shoved in her face. She, like Jinx, is now faced with becoming a figurehead when she never wanted to be, which could lead into option 3:

3. A joint approach to Zaun

This would primarily be driven by Sevika even if she wasn't one of the possible leaders, because SOMEONE has to be the responsible adult here and it's certainly not any of these traumatized losers (affectionate). She'd be the glue to keep it all together, the reluctant team mom who WILL make this work because she WILL have Zaun even if she has to die to get it.

This could work with either Jinx and Vi, or Jinx, Vi, and Ekko (I genuinely can't imagine season 2 act 1 Ekko willingly teaming up with season 2 act 1 Jinx AND Sevika without some kind of buffer). Basically, once the other "leader candidates"/political symbols have been established, Sevika would round them up with the intention to use their influence to unite Zaun against Piltover. This would take a LOT of arguing, but ultimately I think she'd be able to get them to shut up and hear her out for a moment. Regardless of how different their beliefs are about what the "ideal Zaun" looks like, they can all agree that Piltover isn't in any of those pictures. She could convince them to set aside their own squabbling for the time being, for the greater good: aka, the independence of Zaun.

At the very least, I think she'd be able to get them to agree that Piltover coming down and hurting Zaunites in revenge shouldn't be ignored, and that they're currently a bigger threat than their fellow Zaunite. So eventually they'd reach some kind of truce: behave like a united front against Piltover, push them out of Zaun, stabilize Zaun, and then worry about tearing each other apart later. And because all of these characters- ALL of them- have shown (prior to season 2) anti-Piltover sentiments, they'd at least be able to agree that enforcers shouldn't be allowed to beat down on their people (especially in this version where Vi has better, more consistent writing lmao).

Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day, so maybe they don't reach a total agreement immediately- maybe they just agree to a ceasefire at first, but still refuse to work together. But once Caitlyn becomes a dictator? Once enforcers start gassing the streets, rounding people up, implementing martial law?

That's when the gloves would come off.

I'd imagine this could also be part of how Vi and Jinx slowly start to repair their relationship. They've got bigger fish to fry, but also, this time their enemy is connected to their own personal conflict with each other. Jinx might ask, "what happened to your enforcer girl? What happened to being a Piltie lapdog?" And Vi would essentially, in perhaps more emotionally constipated words, explain that it wasn't really about Caitlyn, it was about being needed. It was about trying to find Jinx, about trying to stop Silco, about trying to "fix" things, only realize that she couldn't. It was about trying to make things better, but that she realized the person she was trying to do that with didn't actually care. That all she wanted was to make sense of the destruction of her old life, and find meaning in a new one. And I think Jinx, too, in her own emotional constipation, would resonate with that, would understand that. It wouldn't fix things between them, but I think it'd be a start.

It could also help their relationship with Ekko. Since Vi isn't an enforcer this time, and season 1 (the One True Season) showed their sibling relationship, I think her and Ekko's bonding would be more like "reconnecting with an old friend", whereas Jinx and Ekko would have a lot of work to do, too. There'd probably be a bit of a cold war between them for a while, once Ekko agrees to help, because he knows actually talking to her would piss him off. But eventually, through Sevika's manhandling of these three, and being forced to make nice with reluctant-figurehead-Jinx, they'd connect again.

Perhaps part of a plan is for them to develop new technology for Zaun. Whether that's weapons against Piltover (unlikely on Ekko's part I think), or just safety gear/ safer city infrastructure ideas for the betterment of their people, I think eventually they'd figure themselves out, too. He'd see the Powder in her, the part he saw on that bridge, and maybe it would give him the ability to try and understand Jinx. And Jinx would realize that maybe these people in her life DO love her, DO care about her, more than just for what she used to be but for who she is now. And somewhere along the way, they'd be friends again (or they can date IDK or care man I just want them to stop trying to kill each other).

Whatever happens next is so wide in possibility that I can't possibly cover it here so this is where it ends, lol.

[sigweiner]

⌁₊˚ Shiver ˚₊⌁ {P1}

Pairing: Jinx x Fem!/Gnc!/Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: There's a dance party for Isha. Jinx blows stuff up and you end up taking her (virginity) virtue. Also this has quite a bit of your bg story.

Warnings!: fluff, smut, swearing, angst, t06!c relationship, substance use, mentions of dark ses and physical stuff.

a/n: Arcane literally altered my brain chemistry so I had to put this out. Also English is not my first language, sorry for the weird punctuation and sentences. Minors and creeps dni.

{P2} {P3}

“You know what we need?!” Jinx exclaims with a wild look on her face, completely out of the blue. “A dance partaaaay!!!” She shouts excitedly, throwing her pale arms in the air and spinning on her stool chair, blue braids swirling around her and all.

She had been working on Fishbones for a while, quietly talking to herself here and there as usual, when she suddenly announced her idea to everyone present. Isha jumped up from where she was sitting on the floor, seeming very excited by the prospect of dancing around to strobe lights and loud music. You rolled your eyes unimpressed, asking yourself how the hell was she planning to pull that off since none of you could be seen in public. You were supposed to be dead, Jinx was a wanted criminal and Isha… well she was an easy target for being associated with Piltover’s number one enemy.

It's been three months since you have failed - somewhat intentionally - a mission assigned to you by your mother after you fucked up majorly with a job she gave you. A job that involved escorting the head of a highly respected and ridiculously rich family from Piltover. Madam Margot though, is one of the last remaining chem barons, and she only really held the title of your mother because she gave birth to you. The relationship between you two was downright abusive and toxic while she raised you to be the epitome of perfection – perfect posture, perfect manners, perfect body, absolutely submissive, extremely feminine and pleasant. Not to mention the extensive training for you to become the best courtesan at the Rapturewalk, so there would be no one you wouldn’t be able to pleasure.

The cruel irony of life though was you were the complete opposite of all that. Poor posture, disregard for manners, chubby, defiant and full of masculine energy. So you suffered greatly, mostly by her hands but also by any object she could grab around to discipline you. You had to learn to compartmentalise yourself and your feelings to survive but you reached your breaking point when you met Jinx, basically. You were supposed to capture her and kill Sevika in the process but you ended up in a human sized cage in her hideout. You could have done it, finished the mission successfully and returned to your mother seeking her praise and approval, but that would never happen anyway, she was too much of a narcissist to give you that satisfaction.

Margot did sponsor all your implants and shimmer “treatments” though, so you could turn into a living walking weapon, her weapon, which is the only thing you’re really grateful for other than receiving training to become a blade master which was also a requirement because you needed to learn how to defend yourself, she always encouraged you in that regard. So you became Shiv, choosing this alias to represent your "chemgoth assassin who wears too much leather and harnesses" personality. It would be pathetic if it wasn’t your entire existence, or maybe it is but you try not to think too much about it. But anyway, back to your more recent reality: a very empathetic little girl took a liking to you while you were caged and convinced Jinx to take you in, since she believed you didn't represent any real danger to them. So here you are in yet another dysfunctional “family”, though you rather this a thousand times than go back to Margot.

“What are you talking about? We can't go out in public, Jinx.” You say with an unamused scowl on your face.

“Hah! Don't be stupid, trinket! We're having the party right here.” She flaunts her arms flamboyantly referring to the space around her. Isha jumps up and down, unable to contain her excitement. “Now, I'll take care of the music and lights, Isha will take care of decoration and Trinket…” She points her wrench at you, making a dramatic pause. “Will take care of food and drinks.” She finishes with a smirk so you scoff.

“Why do I get the hardest task?” You ask rolling your eyes at her but already knowing the answer.

“Consider it a small payback for trying to capture me.” She replies through gritted teeth. “Plus you're a really good thief, I'm sure you can get your hands on some top shelf stuff for us.” She adds nonchalantly, reminding you why she still keeps you around.

“I'm not a thief.” You say stubbornly, the complement going over your head.

“Great! It's settled then, let's get to work!” She jumps off her stool and starts rummaging through a bunch of crates full of messy junk.

You cross your arms over your chest and sink further into the couch. You had no intention to start on your assigned task anytime soon. And who does she think she is anyway to order you around like that? What a stupid idea, a dance party. Sure that would make little Isha so happy. She often got bored sitting around the hideout with nothing to do other than tinker with unfinished bombs and draw on any surface she could find. But dancing and parties are really not your thing, you’re more a moping around in the dark kind of person which makes you realise you might be a little too depressed actually.

So you start brainstorming places to raid where you know there's a good stash of food and drinks and you immediately think of your mother's warehouse. But that was definitely a bad idea, since there would be a small probability you could get caught by the Vyx or be seen around, although you're pretty sure you could get in and out without any effort, since you know the place like the back of your hand. Plus thinking about the kind of food your mother had laying around made you salivate, not to mention the booze, that could definitely cheer you up.

Jinx suddenly plops down on the couch next to you interrupting your thought process by man spreading in those distracting tiny shorts and thigh high socks. You avert your gaze quickly and try to ignore her presence altogether but your hormones get the best of you. Did she have to walk around in so little clothing? Doesn’t she get cold or something? Although the shimmer probably altered a lot of sensations for her but this was just maddening. She nudges your leg with her boot lightly, refusing to be ignored.

“You know opting out of the party is not an option for you, right Trinket?” She says in a surprisingly calm voice and smirks when you glance at her sideways.

“Whatever.” You scoff, continuing to look anywhere but at her stupidly attractive grin.

“So where are you planning to snatch the goods?” she ignores your dismissive tone while playing with the ends of one of her braids. 

“Maybe… my mother's warehouse. But that's a dumb idea.” You reply pointedly. Jinx suddenly gasps and gets closer to you.

“That's a perfect idea, Trinket! Margot has stuff the Pilts eat, dude. You have to get it for us, it's gonna be epic!” She grabs at the traps of your harness that hugs your collarbones and shakes you slightly. 

“Get off!” You push her hands away with an aggravated look on your face but she just laughs at your reaction. “I'm not putting myself in that kind of danger for your stupid party.” You tell her sternly, but it lacks any real bite.

Jinx feigns a surprised look of insult and reclines back on the couch spreading her slender legs even further. “Don't be selfish, Trinket! This party is for that kid over there, who by the way, has never tasted anything like what people on the other side of the bridge have. So stop being an insufferable brat and get going!” she moves to shove you off the couch but you manage to dodge her swiftly. 

In a second you're standing in front of her, arms firmly crossed against your chest. “Fine. But just so you know I'm only doing this for her, not for you.” You let out with more anger than you intended to. There's a flash of hurt on her features before she manages to mask it so you hold her gaze a second longer before turning around and vanishing from sight.

If you were being honest with yourself you had to admit that this little rendezvous Jinx sent you on made you feel alive. Sure, the safety of the hideout brought you immense emotional comfort, even though the blue haired girl could get under your skin most of the time. But this, the adrenaline of the mission, the possibility of getting caught or even running into your mother, is simply thrilling. And you love the simple things in life.

So you are selfish after all. The motivation behind your actions, completely forgotten by you. You learn the patterns of the guards, patiently designing your path through isles of containers then you proceed to move swiftly and blend in with the shadows. You lockpick your way into a large container in seconds and your double bladed dagger cuts through the mesh nets that are covering large crates filled with aliments. 

You stash as much as you can on a makeshift bag you brought with you and when you start to tie it across your chest and back, you sense movement behind you. You move so fast your own brain can’t recognise who you suddenly have caught by putting your dagger under their throat and tightly securing one of their arms on their back. The person is wearing a hooded cloak but you get a whiff of a familiar scent coming off of them and immediately recognise the intruder.

“Gee, didn't know you were this kinky.” Jinx says putting her free arm up in redemption. You release her from your grip and push her away. She turns around with a big grin on her face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You whisper harshly but she gives you a look of feigned innocence.

“I came to help you carry stuff.” She says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Her hands lower to rest on her hips and she winks at you. Damn her.

“Shh, you're going to alert the Vyx.” You reprimand her. She just rolls her eyes and turns around to steal more food from the open crates. 

You stare at her back in complete disbelief as she collects honey, chocolate, sugar, candy, meat and all the soda cans she could fit in her backpack. How in the hell did she manage to get over here without you noticing? She must've followed you, or more likely stalked you all the way over here. It is understandable that she wouldn't trust you and wanted to keep an eye on you to make sure you wouldn't run from her, but this was just a whole nother level of mania.

“I wasn't gonna run, y’know.” You say quietly. She stops what she's doing but doesn't look at you.

“I know.” She replies in the same quiet manner. “But you're so much fun to follow around, I can't help it.” She turns sideways to look at you with her signature wicked grin that you love to hate. God, sometimes you wish you could kiss it off her face.

You scoff, but look away. “More like stalking.” You mumble under your breath. “Let's go, there's a round of guards coming this way.” You warn her.

“Fineee.” She drags her response. “But I'm leaving your mother a gift, ya know, in exchange for her generosity and letting us take all this stuff.” She giggles mischievously at the confused look on your face. “15 seconds, let's go!” She warns, then runs past you.

You hear the familiar ticking of one of her monkey bombs and your eyes widen. Shit, why does she always have to make an event out of everything? Your body moves faster than your brain yet again, and you manage to see a pink colored flash of light moving alongside you, bolting to the exit. A few seconds later you hear as well as feel the blast in the not so far distance. And chaos ensues.

Back at Jinx’s hideout, the only sound that can be heard is of the girls laughing while Jinx reenacts in the most flamboyant way possible what happened an hour ago. You lay lazily on the couch, your head propped on one of the armrests, trying really hard not to stress over the consequences today's recklessness will bring. You should've known better. Of course Jinx would follow you and try to explode something just for the fun of it. Also she never did get back at your mother for sending you on a mission to try and capture her so you kind of have to admit she had the right to do so. You cover your face with one arm and try your best not to let anxiety take over. After a brief while, you hear someone approaching and by the heavy sounds of boots on the metal ground, you know Jinx is coming to bother you, again.

“Not right now Jinx.” You warn her, but the last thing you could expect is her climbing on top of you and casually straddling your legs. You look at her incredulously, your gaze jumping all over her body and her face. “What the hell-” You start to say, but she cuts you off.

“Cheer up Trinket! We're about to have the time of our lives!” She lets out one of her outrageous laughs and starts tickling your sides with her slim fingers. “Isha help me out here!” She shouts for the child to come join in on torturing you.

“Stop! You're insane!” You try to hold her hands on a tight grip but Isha is already climbing on top of you too. “Traitor! I thought you were on my side!” You try to shout with bravado but the tickling gets to you making you giggle uncontrollably.

“Raise hell!” Jinx commands and manages to free her hands from your grip. You all end up falling to the floor when in an attempt to escape you throw yourself off the couch.

Everyone is laughing now at your utter defeat, tears coming down your face, all worries and anxiety forgotten momentarily. The girls stop attacking you and you try to steady your breathing, giggles dying down slowly. Isha throws her little arms around you and lays on your torso with a big smile on her face. Following the small girl’s action, Jinx also places her body on top of both of you, though her face is close next to yours. You can smell the intoxicating scent of her hair and you can feel her breathing tickling your ear.

“Guess you're not so tough after all.” She whispers into your ear and you have to suppress a shiver that threatens to course through your body. 

“Alright, alright you got me. Now let me breathe please.” You admit defeat and the girls start pulling off of you. Isha gestures for the party to start so Jinx gets up and offers you a hand. You hesitate before taking it and she puts more force than needed to pull you up so you end up flushed against her, faces inches from each other, her hand swiftly finding the small of your back to steady you.

“Time to shake those ol’ bones of yours.” She whispers. You can't help but stare at her plum colored lips as they move. She smirks and you sigh, pulling away from her. You let out a shaky “right” and walk past her to join Isha by the work station. 

The lights are turned off and Isha's doodles glow in the dark of the hideout, making everything fluorescent. Jinx turns on colorful strobe lights, and music starts to blast through a gramophone speaker, giving life to an improvised dance floor. Before everyone starts dancing though, Jinx covers Isha's eyes as you walk over a makeshift table covered with a cloth. Jinx counts to three and you lift off the cloth to reveal a banquet to a very excited Isha, who wastes no time and dives right in.

You pour yourself a cup of a lightweight liquor, not intending to get wildly drunk tonight, or any night for that matter when you're around Jinx. You fear you won't be able to hold back your annoying crush on her if you don't stay sober. Surprisingly (or not really), Jinx doesn't drink alcohol, preferring a sugary soda instead. She is the first to start dancing, followed by Isha who has her mouth full of chocolate. You don't remember ever seeing her this happy ever since you met her, even though that wasn't that long ago.

You start bopping your head nonchalantly, lingering by the table, just watching the girls having fun with a dopey grin on your face. You decide all of that ordeal earlier was worth it because of this moment. Jinx twirls Isha around once and they giggle happily jumping up and down to the rhythm of a rock song. Your eyes catch Jinx’s gaze for a second and she starts strutting over to you.

“This is a dance party, Trinket! You need to dance!” She leans close to your face. Your stupid heart skips a beat but you manage to steady it. “C’mon! Just pretend like it's a club!” She shouts through the music. 

“I'm not a good dancer!” You retort. She gives you an unimpressed look and then you feel tiny hands pull on your own. Isha is guiding you to the middle of the dance floor so you can dance together.

Is there anything you wouldn't do for this little girl? You can't think of anything as you start moving a little unsure of how you're supposed to do this. Isha's energy is contagious so you can't help but let yourself be free as well. Jinx appears next to you after a moment and hands you a chocolate covered strawberry, munching on another one herself. You take it and savour the sweet contrast of flavours in your mouth, Gods it's been a while since you had food like this. 

You catch Jinx licking chocolate off the tip of her thumb and you're suddenly hypnotised. You wish it was you licking the sweet off of her, or the other way around would be great too. Her lips curl into that god awful smirk so you look away, thinking the liquor is already getting to your head. Isha grabs your hand and makes you twirl her around just like Jinx did so you concentrate on the small child again, happy to oblige.

After a while of just the three of you jumping around, mimicking an assortment of animals and you and Jinx singing loudly to popular songs together, you decide to take a break, sitting down by the floor with a chicken thigh on one hand and half of your cup of happy juice on the other. The girls join shortly after, eating like they haven't seen food for months. And to be quite honest, food was really scarce in the hideout since you couldn't be going out often to steal meals, so yeah, they probably haven't eaten this well in a while.

You don't let yourself dwell on the hardships of everyday life for long though, the girls are already finding a way to entertain you. This time they play with the remains of their food, making funny faces. Jinx pretends to be a vampire by sticking chicken bones under her upper lip as if they were her fangs. Isha uses the bones as horns on top of her head. You just laugh wholeheartedly at their creativity but don’t join in on the food play. After eating as much as you could though, it was time to get back to the dance floor.

A more sultry song starts playing and Jinx really gets into it. Swaying her hips effortlessly to the beat like she knew the exact moves to it. You were yet again mesmerised by her, slowing down your movements almost to a halt, just moving your body side to side. Jinx locks eyes with you, pupils completely blown by the lack of light, probably. She starts moving closer but this time for some reason you couldn't look away.

“If you think I'm pretty, lay your hands on me.” She mouths the lyrics once she is standing in front of you. Your hand lifts magnetically towards her hip, but you hesitate pulling it away slightly. “I know you can’t stop thinking ‘bout it.” She sings again, taunting you. Your head feels hazy in the best way possible when she moves even closer to you, but your body knows exactly what to do.

You rest your hand on the hip she has covered with powder blue clouds, and her skin feels electric. She wastes no time laying her hands on you though, running her fingers almost reverently through the tender skin of one of your arms. Jinx checks you out shamelessly, pink spinel eyes coursing through your body with hunger. You feel a shiver course through your spine when her hand travels from your shoulder to the back of your neck, holding you there steadily so you find yourself frozen under her spell, unable to think any coherent thoughts when she has her hands on you like this.

Jinx takes your free hand and guides it to lay on her waist, making you feel the sensual sway of her body. You swallow hard and her eyes follow the motion, making her carom her skinny fingers through your choker necklace and towards your shoulder, before brushing a strand of your hair behind it. This time you can’t help but shiver when the tips of her fingers graze the skin of your neck in the process. She puts her hand on your waist right after, guiding you to sway like her, but it's hard to do anything when your body feels like it's on fire. She giggles at your apparent lack of coordination, seemingly oblivious to the real effect she has on you.

You snap out of it when fireworks suddenly burst out of nowhere illuminating the space pink and blue. The song changes and you both hesitantly remove your hands from each other. You try to hide the scorching heat creeping up your face by grabbing your cup and downing the last remains of your drink. Jinx moves away from you to start spinning aimlessly around with Isha, who seems hell bent on making herself dizzy just for fun.

“Careful, you’re gonna get sic-” You don’t get to finish your sentence because Isha throws up all over the floor, making a mess. Jinx lets out a surprised laugh and the kid hugs herself for a moment, looking embarrassed, before her mouth turns into a frown and tears start pooling around her eyes.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay kid, don’t worry about it, let’s get you cleaned up.” You’re immediately by her side, cradling her head and wiping at the tears falling down her face. You take her hand and start guiding her to the “bathroom” right outside the hideout.  

“Ugh fine, I’ll clean up the mess!” Jinx shouts from a distance. You glance back at her and give your best apologetical smile before disappearing out of sight.

Later that night, you’re at the top of a nextdoor building trying to get some fresh air, or as fresh of an air as Zaun can provide. Your legs dangle on the edge of the long forgotten structure as you watch the distant glow of the progress city. Jinx was putting Isha to bed as she always does every night, and you didn’t want to intrude on their little ritual, besides your head was still swirling a bit with the effects of the alcohol you had earlier, making your mind keep going back to the dance you shared with the wild girl.

This was getting out of your control, which scared you shitless. You knew for certain Jinx wasn’t the kind of girl who falls in love, or she doesn’t seem to be, so she would never reciprocate your little infatuation with her, which in your opinion is childish at best. You sigh heavily, thinking back on how her skin felt under your touch, and about her damn barely there clothes, and about how her tattoos adorn her body perfectly.

“Slow down or your head is gonna explode.” You hear Jinx’s playful voice behind you. “Y’know, from all the thinking you’re doing.” She continues. You turn sideways to glance at her, and unfortunately she still looks wildly tempting. You scoff, turning away.

“Get yourself a mirror, will you?” You banter back. She giggles and plops herself down next to you so close your thighs are touching, making you tense up.

“Aw Trinket, you’re no fun! Just when I thought you were starting to loosen up a little.” She purrs her last words, propping her forearm on your shoulder, face close to yours.

“My name is Shiv, y’know.” Your voice trembles, nerves betraying you. She lifts her eyebrows and smirks at you.

“Is that so Y/N?” She whispers, her warm breath brushing the side of your face. Your eyes widen slightly, how the hell does she know that? But you quickly recover.

“Been digging up my dirt, huh?” You say casually. She smiles sweetly and moves so her head is resting on your shoulder.

“Heh yeaah, I might have…” She chuckles, watching the city ahead. You stay silent, because of course she has. You think it’s only fair since you know everything about her past too, about Powder. You take a deep breath catching a whiff of her scent, rusty with hints of something sweet you can't quite identify. It nearly drives you insane.

“Sooo… you think I’m pretty, huh?” She interrupts your internal turmoil only to cause a full blown panic in you. You tense up when she lifts her head to look at you.

“Stop fucking around, Jinx.” You warn her but it comes out more like a plea. You chance a furtive look at her and regret it immediately since she has that damn knowing smirk on her face.

“I’m not. I um… liked the way you touched me.” She says almost shily, slowly placing her hand on top of yours and squeezing it lightly. You honest to god do not know what to do with that information. You glance at your hands together and back at her face, trying to figure out what is going on here.

She’s just trying to rile you up as usual, right? There’s nothing more to this than her trying to toy with you, right? That’s what you are to her, a trinket, right? She probably just wants to use you to satisfy her needs and then throw you away, right? You can admit she is hitting on you but it’s not like she has other options, right? She just needs a quick fuck to make her forget all her problems momentarily and let off some steam, right?

Maybe then she would stop randomly blowing shit up and stop talking to herself like there are invisible people around. Maybe you should give in, perhaps this would do you good as well. But what about afterwards? How could you move on knowing how it feels when your bodies are tangled together? Or the taste of her on your tongue? Or the sounds she makes when she reaches her peak? You don’t think you could ever get over that, it would definitely break you.

“Y’know for someone who’s so quick and swift, you’re surprisingly slow witted.” She brings your attention back to her making you frown before biting your lower lip, a decision forming within you.

“What do you want from me Jinx?” You ask her seriously. The look on your face letting her know you are definitely not messing around.

“I want… you, silly.” She says tentatively, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. The tenderness of the gesture almost made you flinch, fuck you can’t deal with softness.

You lunge forward, grabbing the back of her head as you slam your lips together in a desperate kiss. She lets out a surprised 'umph' sound but kisses you back, throwing her arms around your neck. You brush your tongue on her lower lip before deepening the kiss, and Gods she tastes so sweet somehow, you can’t help but let out a low moan against her mouth. That seems to spur her on because she sinks her fingers on the back of your head, massaging your scalp making your eyes flutter.

One of your hands paws at her chest while the other grabs her waist roughly, pulling her towards you. The salacious nature of your kiss makes you both let out breathy moans, increasing the heat that threatens to burn your insides. You two part momentarily so you can push at her shoulder making her lay down on the rough concrete floor. You move so you’re hovering above her and you can’t help but admire the mess you’ve made of her. Kiss swollen lips, chest heaving trying to catch her breath, her pretty lipstick all smeared around her mouth.

Jinx rests her arms on the floor beside her head, and swallows harshly waiting for your next move. You straddle her hips before lowering down your upper body to kiss her again, hands raking through her sides, appreciating the feeling of her firm waist. Then they travel up her stomach right around the time your tongues swirl together, making her squirm underneath you.

You let go of her mouth to lavish her neck with kisses and bruises, biting down at her pulse point hungrily. She lets out small whimpers and quiet moans at what you’re doing to her neck, and when you move your hands to pull up her bralette above her chest, she gasps and arches her back towards you. You start kissing a path down her collarbone, towards her chest, tasting the salt on her skin. One of your hands pinches her left nipple making her moan loudly.

You take the opportunity to soothe the pink areola with your tongue but bite lightly at it soon after. Jinx is a squirming mess underneath you, hands balled into fists beside her head. You take her wrists and guide them to wrap around your shoulders, making her suddenly remember how to use her hands. You huff a chuckle and kiss her hard again, her fingers tangling on your hair.

You paw at her right breast only to be surprised by a feeling of metal lodged in her nipple. You break the kiss to get a better look at it and you spot a silver piercing on her boob, Gods as if she couldn’t get any hotter. You raise an eyebrow at her but she only guides your head towards it, so you waste no time on lavishing her nipple with attention. The sounds coming out of her, a delicious tune to your ears.

You rake your free hand down her side until you reach the hem of her shorts and she bucks her hips upwards. Her thighs are tightly clasped together which is unacceptable, so you snake your hand on the back of her thigh to pull it around your hip. She lifts her other leg and snakes it around you without coercion and you finally let go of her breast with a pop. You lower your hips on her crotch, giving it a tentative grind to watch her reaction, and she rewards you with an obscene moan. Jinx holds your back tightly and claws at it every time you roll your hips into hers.

“Should I stop?” You realise she hasn't said anything ever since you pounced on her like a feral cat. And even though this was supposed to be strictly physical, you couldn't help but check-in on her.

She frantically shakes her head no, desperation crossing her face. “Please don't.” She down right begs and cradles your face, beckoning you towards her lips. You chuckle but kiss her lewdly anyway.

You rest your weight on an elbow and maneuver your free hand to skillfully unclasp the buckle of her tiny shorts, snaking your hand inside to find no other barriers to her saturated heat. You both moan at the sensation of your lithe digits caressing her folds. She was so wet and soft under your touch but you wasted no time on this heavenly feeling before teasing her swollen bud and sinking a finger inside of her. She cries out with a hiss so you freeze your movements studying her face for any signs of pain. This confuses you a bit, since you assumed she was quite experienced at this. But she is so tight, which doesn't add up.

“Does it hurt?” You ask quietly. Her eyes are clasped shut and there's a frown between her eyebrows. Her mouth agape panting slightly. She lays a hand on your wrist and guides you to start moving again.

“S-slow…” She manages to say between whimpers. You acquiesce and start rubbing her engorged clit with your thumb as you slowly start pumping inside of her.

“You feel so fucking good, Jinx.” You whisper against her cheek, peppering kisses all over her face, before reaching her lips, kissing her sweetly.

You can feel her relax a bit, the distraction seemingly working to ease her into pleasure. You start moving a little faster, burying your finger deeper and try to find the spot that will make her eyes roll. She cradles the nape of your neck, and scratches her nails there making you shiver. You try to maneuver your fingers inside her shorts to add another one but the piece of cloth made it hard to pull that off. You ask her to hold on before giving her a quick peck on the lips, then you carefully pull your hand from inside her. She whines and pouts but you reassure her you'll be quick.

You sit on your knees to the side of her and start pulling off her shorts down her legs so she lifts up her hips to help you get rid of it. You also take off her boots in the process leaving her only in her thigh high socks. A breeze swifts by making her shiver, or was it the weight of your gaze admiring her comely body? You graze your fingers reverently through the cloud tattoo adorning her waist before laying down next to her and pulling her close towards you. One arm snaking around her shoulders and the other lifting her leg to rest over your hip.

Jinx cradles your face with her hands again, ghosting her lips on yours before kissing you softly. You caress her thigh before sneaking your hand up to grab her ass, making her gasp into your mouth. You finally move your hand to her throbbing core, massaging her salient clit, which you noticed was a lot larger than the average you have seen in your lifetime. The way it responds to your ministrations, like it has a mind of its own, pulls wetness from your own body. You feel her bury her face on the crook of her neck trying desperately to muffle her loud moans.

“Don't try to hold back, I wanna hear you princess.” You whisper in her ear, the pet name escaping you before you could stop yourself. She lifts up her head and looks at you through half lidded eyes, hazy with pleasure.

You’re cradling her on one arm when you tease two fingers on her entrance, giving her the time to stop you if she wants to. But she just grinds on your fingers making them slip in a bit, her legs already starting to tremble. You carefully push your lithe digits inside of her again, waiting for a brief moment so she can adjust to the stretch before picking up the pace. The combination of your fingers inside of her and the palm of your hand brushing her clit is enough to make her reach her climax, dripping fluid all over your hand. You slow down your movements, helping her ride her high until she gently pushes your hand away.

You wipe it off on your own clothes before you embrace her, making soft patterns on her bare back. She takes a moment to steady her breathing then pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. You smile at her eagerness but her hands start to roam your body so you have to stop her. This has gone far enough and you don't want anyone touching you like this, especially because of what happened 5 months ago with the rich Piltover dude. Even if the person who's touching you is Jinx, you can't do this, not right now. She looks at you with a confused frown on her face.

“But it's your turn toots.” She tries to explain but you're already untangling yourself from her.

“You should head back inside, Jinx. It's getting cold.” You say sitting up, not looking at her. You gather her clothes and hand it back to her. “Don't worry about me.” You say ending the conversation.

You're a coward, you don't dare to look at her because you know the look of hurt on her face will break you. Damn your self control, you don't know why you thought this was a good idea. You think you deserve to suffer for treating her like this. But this is what she wanted, right? Just a quick fuck to forget her problems. So you gave it to her, you tell yourself it doesn't have to be more than that even though your heart is beating so fast inside your rib cage it hurts. You hear her putting her clothes back on quickly as she sniffles, wiping away under her nose with her forearm. You just sit on the ground with your head low.

“Did I… do something wrong?” She asks with a shaky voice. You swallow hard.

“No, you were perfect.” You say honestly. And that was part of the problem wasn't it?

“Then why won't y-” She starts to protest but you cut her off.

“You got what you wanted didn't you? Now leave me alone.” The harshness of your words cut through the night like one of your sharp blades.

She just stands beside you, stunned probably or pissed off, you didn't dare to look her way to find out. You just wanted her gone or for her to force you to look at her and tell the truth, you didn't know which option was worse really. She finally turns away and storms off the roof but not before kicking an innocent piece of scrap metal that was on her way. You wince and bury your face in your hands, putting pressure on your eyes as if that could prevent the tears from coming. What a mess you’ve made, it's all your fault.

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws and @cafekitsune.

[kasagia]

Right Hand - Epilogue

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: Your future with your baron. Your dream future. Your long-won future. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; It's very hard for me to end this one… Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~

"Count Rabban." You nod when you pass Feyd's brother on your way to the throne room. To your surprise, the man stops and bows to you, which makes you frown at his extraordinary and strange behaviour.

"Lady Y/N. My congratulations." The man says, stunning you for a while. Your heartbeat accelerates when you wonder how the hell he could tell that you are pregnant.

"Um... thank you." You answer uncertainly and look at Feyd. He tightens up at his brother's words; you can see that he is clearly furious at his brother's comment. What the fuck was going on here?

"You should go, brother. We still have a lot of rats to hunt down." Fed says this and puts his hand at the bottom of your back, pushing you towards the throne room, as if he wanted to walk away from Rabban as soon as possible.

"Of course. I'm surprised you won't join me, but if I were you, I'd keep an eye on my woman too. After all, pregnancy is a real blessing for us.” You froze at his words. You look stunned at Feyd, who seems to be getting more and more… nervous. You frown, confused by everything that is happening around you. Since when in hell have these two been civil towards each other?

"Obviously. Just go." Feyd hastens him and practically pushes you into the throne room. He shuts the door behind you with a loud bang, not allowing any servants or guards to follow you.

He doesn't give you a second glance. He goes straight to the Arrakis projection and starts explaining to you the recent actions he took while you were... unconscious. However, you can't focus on what he's saying; your thoughts are still revolving around what Rabban said, so at some point during his long speech, you simply interrupt him and blurt out:

"Pregnancy? Who the hell is pregnant?"

There is a long silence in the room after your question. You think this is the first time you've seen Feyd-Rautha… embarrassed. And as much as it's a new and strange sight, you want to know what the hell is going on. So you walk up to him and grab his chin tightly, forcing him to look you in the eyes.

"I could have mentioned that you were with my heir to mobilise our troops to march to the desert and stop the great families from... complaining about me searching for you instead of focusing on killing Muad'Dib." You blink a few times, staring at him in shock when you hear this.

Your hand falls between you, letting go of his chin, which you can tell he's mildly happy about. You frown, trying to imagine him telling all the great houses that you were pregnant with his child.

Which actually isn't far from the truth now…

"I… Why the fuck am I not even surprised? Anything else besides this fake pregnancy?" You ask, shifting your gaze from him to the map of the desert, where the points of stationing units, the movement of soldiers, observed points, and recently conquered objects were marked.

"I couldn't say that you were just my concubine. They wouldn't take me seriously..." He starts, eyeing you carefully, having no idea what you were going to do. Just in case, he puts his hand on his belt, ready to activate his shield at any moment. Although he doubted anything could actually protect him from your anger.

"What the hell did you tell them?" You ask, annoyed, turning to face him. He takes a step back, pretending to move something on the map, but really wanting to be as far away from you as possible when he gives you this message.

"That you are my fiancée." He repeats calmly, taking your exasperated sigh and rubbing of your temple as a good sign. At least you're not attacking him with a blade. Wouldn't the idea of marrying him be as... repulsive to you as it used to be?

"You announced to the great families that I am your fiancée AND that we are going to have a child? And they believed you?"

"Yes, why not?" He asks, furrowing his hairless eyebrows at your surprise, slightly offended that you thought it was such impossible thing to happen.

"Because the very idea of you proposing to me is ridiculous and unrealistic." Your eyes widen as you see him move to kneel in front of you. You grab his elbow tightly, not letting him move even an inch, as you shut down his attempt to propose to you. "Do NOT do this now. How could you? And behind my back..."

"I can ask you the same question. Why did you literally stab me with a blade and leave me bleeding on the ship so you could play 'How to Destroy the Atreides House', risking your life, and worse, without me? I should punish you for that, little witch."

You stare at each other defiantly, each insisting that the other is wrong and carries more fault. However, the more you think about it, the more you come to the conclusion that maybe he was right. You both did shitty things. And it is possible that you will make even more of them in the future.

"Call it even?" You finally ask, deciding to let it go this time. After all, you had smaller things to worry about. Arrakis. Emperor. Irulan. Maybe he will finally tell you what happened during your... not necessarily voluntary absence.

"Only this time." He nods, cupping your cheek in his hand. He seals your deal with a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and joining yours in a mad dance as Feyd steals the air from your lungs.

You moan into his mouth, cradling his cheeks in your hands and bringing his face closer to yours as his hands rest on your hips. He manoeuvres you across the room, making you both approach the large throne. You break your kiss as he pushes you onto the stone seat.

"So... what's now?" You ask, placing your hands on his shoulders as he leans on the armrests of the throne, leaning over you.

"Now... I'm going to lock you here, and I am not going to let you go out until we create this heir of ours." He mumbles against your neck, placing feathery kisses there. You sigh softly, running your nails over his bald head.

"Of all the possible excuses, you had to come up with this one?" You ask, trying to maintain what little control you have as the pads of his cold fingers lazily stroke your collarbones. He squeezes your breast, earning a small gasp from you, and he chuckles contentedly, biting into your neck. He reluctantly pulls away from your neck and rests his forehead against yours, taking a moment to look into your eyes.

"I wish you could have seen their faces." He whispers hoarsely, making you shiver, and kisses you again. His plump lips take their time caressing yours as he enjoys the kiss, finally having all the time in the world to bask in your warmth, scent, and taste.

You smile into the kiss, distracted by his proximity. It seems unreal that the two of you can just enjoy each other without worrying about other things, without any urgent matters to attend to, enemies to kill, or evil plans to carry out. It was weird. Pleasantly weird. But you had been under the pressure of something for too long to just enjoy this peaceful, blissful moment without trying to find an excuse to stop him.

So when his hand goes under your skirt and lazily caresses your thigh, you place your hands on his chest and gently push him away from you. You look at him for a moment as he furrows his hairless eyebrows, trying to understand why you're doing this.

"Me too. But as much as I want to fool around with you, I think that we should focus on diplomacy and policy for a while. It wouldn't be in Giedi Prime's interest to create heirs before we establish government, and... can you stop undressing me?" You ask as his fingers begin to untie the bodice of your dress, realising that you were only pushing him away for the sake of politics and to solve Giedi Prime's issue first, which he obviously didn't want to do now.

"I have been covering the policy for the past few weeks. Now, I have more important things to worry about. Like how to untie those damn strings with one hand."

"But... the council..." You try, sighing as his mouth attacks your neck again as he loosens the ties of your dress, exposing your breasts to him.

"They will wait." He mumbles as he moves from your neck to your collarbones, his fingers teasing your nipples. You sigh, biting your bottom lip as he explores every little bit of your skin. "I have a little fantasy that I want to fulfill with you, little witch…" He purrs against your breasts. You hold your breath as he suddenly grips your hips tightly and lifts you up. He sits down on the throne and settles you on his lap, completely removing your dress and throwing it behind him. He licks his lips, staring at your naked form, and you blush under his watchful gaze. Bastard…

"But… oh, Feyd…" You moan as he leans towards you and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Sitting astride him and stabilising herself on his lap. His other hand slides from your chest down your stomach to your core as he teases your overstimulated pussy. He chuckles against your breast, only intensifying your sensations as he discovers how wet you already are for him.

"Yes… that's right, my right hand. Allow me to repay you for your faithful service to your new Baron." You kiss him hard, passionately, tugging at his clothes and stripping him off of them roughly, wanting to feel his abalaster, muscled chest as quickly as possible.

He doesn't do anything to help you. He just teases you, getting you so aroused and excited that you can't even dream of interrupting him again. Instead, you take and take everything it has to offer you. And it's a pleasantly blissful change.

"Marry me." He whispers in your ear when you lie wrapped in sheets in his bedroom after a fairly intense session.

You sigh and roll your eyes at him. He had been trying to convince you to marry him for a week, and as pleasant as the idea seemed, you were well aware that it wasn't that easy. He couldn't just choose a wife, and moreover, a woman without a family name or fortune.

"You know it's not that easy. I have neither titles nor a significant family name. I am only your right hand. The Council will never support this idea." You sigh, snuggling into him. He huffs, offended by your response, but wraps his arms around you anyway and holds you tightly to his chest. As if to at least make sure that you wouldn't be able to leave him even though you didn't agree to marry him.

"Have I ever asked anyone for their opinion? Have I ever cared about the opinion of these old people?"

"No. But you should. You are a baron now. Marrying me would make you weaker in their eyes. Besides, being your concubine absolutely suits me." You speak even though you don't know who you're trying to fool. Yourself, him, or both of you.

However, you don't take into account that he knows you perfectly. He grabs your chin with two fingers and forces you to look into his icy blue eyes. You shiver as his piercing gaze reaches almost to your soul.

"It is not. I know it well. You never wanted to be just a concubine. That's why you didn't want to accept my courtship for a long time. I don't want you as my concubine; I want you as my wife. I need a strong baroness by my side—one that will be just as terrifying as me. You can't refuse me now. Not after what we went through to be here. I know you don't care about the opinions of anyone in our council, so tell me why you don't want to become my wife, little witch?"

You look at him for a long moment, wondering how much you can tell him from what you saw in your visions. He senses your hesitation and gently pushes you off of him and moves to get out of bed, but you stop him by wrapping your arms around him. You rest your chin on his shoulder and whisper into his ear.

"I … I had visions … visions in which our marriage ended terribly … and I don't want it to happen. Not after how long we fought for each other." You say that and press a kiss on his earlobe. You hug his back, ready for him to walk away from you in anger, but instead, he places his hand on yours and squeezes it tightly.

"Haven't you been the one who did not believe in the prophecies and fate? Who believed that we create our destiny ourselves?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then marry me." He interrupts you and turns to look at you. He cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. "I promise, I won't hurt you. Never. Not me. I promise to protect you against everything that will come and to be by your side for good and bad. I promise you all of myself and everything I am. I promise to go back to our bed and keep you in it even after the worst quarrel in the world, because I am nothing without you by my side, and I prefer to argue and fight you forever than not to have you with me. I... I just want you."

His words tug at your heart. You know he's not effusive, that he doesn't like talking about his feelings, and this is a very rare moment when he shows you his weaknesses. And you really appreciate it, but you can't help but have doubts.

"But what if..." He doesn't let you finish your sentence. He cuts you off with a kiss, caressing your lips with his, preventing you from making any protest.

He places his hands on your waist and holds you tightly close to him, ignoring your attempts to speak. He pushes you onto the bed and looms over you, still kissing you. Not until he's sure he's taken any air from your lungs.

You inhale quickly, flushed as he strokes the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, drinking in the appearance of you beneath him: flushed, dishevelled with beautifully swollen lips.

"Marry me." He whispers, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "Marry me." He repeats against your cheek. "Marry me." Another feathery kiss, this time on your earlobe. You shiver as his hot whisper reaches your ear. "Marry me." A kiss on your neck. "Marry me." A kiss on your collarbone. "Marry me." A kiss in the valley of your breasts. "Marry me." A kiss on your stomach. "Marry me." A kiss on your pussy crying with need.

You sigh, scratching your nails against his scalp as he keeps whispering the words against your clit, working towards your orgasm as if you're going to say yes and accept his proposal the moment he takes you over the edge. At first, you find his attempts absurd, but with every second, every kiss, and every whispered request, you realise how much you want to just say yes and let him do whatever he wants with you.

You wrap your legs around him, digging your heels into his back and pulling him closer to you. His hand wraps around yours in a tight grip as his tongue works tirelessly to please you. You don't know how he keeps whispering his request, but you know when your eyes meet for a moment that you can't respond with anything other than...

"Yes."

You growl as he stops all his movements and lifts his head to look at you. You tighten your legs around him, willing him to move back into place, but he stays firmly above you.

"Feyd..." You complain, but he silences you with a quick kiss, so quick that you don't even get a good taste of yourself on his tongue.

"Later, impatient needy witch." He scolds you. In retaliation, you reach for his nipple and pinch it, making him growl. He squeezes your hips and leans in to leave a hickey on your neck.

"You made me this way." You complain, propping yourself up on your elbows and pressing your lips to his, stealing a kiss from him with a giggle. He pushes you back onto the bed, your head bobbing, and he smiles, showing you his black teeth.

"And I plan to do much more to you when you're my wife. So, will you marry me, little witch?"

"Why doesn't this sound like a question but a threat?" You ask, smirking, not yet giving him the answer he wants to hear. You can barely contain your chuckle, watching as he furrows his hairless eyebrows at you in irritation.

"I've been asking you for a week, it's your fault my tone changes from day to day when you keep me waiting."

"Don't you know that the best things are worth waiting for?"

"They are. And I've been waiting for you for years. So maybe you can finally end tihis? Can you do this for me, my right hand? Will you be my baroness?" He asks you, stroking your cheek, giving you his full attention as he waits for your response. But you just can't help yourself from teasing him a little bit more.

"Such a high promotion… people will think I slept with you to get it." You joke stupidly, enjoying your small victory, when he rolls his eyes at you in annoyance. You're lucky his daggers were abandoned halfway from the door to the bed... otherwise you would have ended up with a dagger at your throat long ago. Not that he would ever hurt you. Just to scare you a little.

"Y/N..." He growls at you and nuzzles your temple. You place your hand on his neck and pull him into a gentle kiss, lazily brushing your lips against his. A low murmur escapes his throat as he pulls you closer to him.

He's practically lying on top of you, keeping his body weight on his arms but letting you feel every inch of him against yours. You enjoy this newfound intimacy with him. This closeness, sense of security, love, deep adoration, and peace. So how can you say no to him when he prolongs every second of your kiss, tries to maintain contact with your body as long as possible, and treats you with a tenderness he has never shown to anyone before?

"Yes... yes, I will marry you." You whisper, smiling as you watch his reaction. He doesn't believe you at first, trying to make sure you're not joking with him again, and when he makes sure that you have no intention to take back your words, he leans in, crushing his lips against yours.

You smile throughout the kiss, even as he pinches your sides, his form of punishment for teasing him for so long. He bites your lip, just enough for him to taste your metallic blood on his tongue, sealing the deal between the two of you. You take his hint and bite his lip yourself, drawing blood from him.

"About damn time." He murmurs against your lips, letting you take a few breaths before trapping your lips in a needy kiss again.

Such a moment of bliss and tenderness between you is very much needed. Especially after recent events. However, you know that you won't be able to enjoy peace with him for long. But as long as you both had each other's backs, you could face the world. And soon you will have one more little human to protect.

You stand in your blood-red wedding dress, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Baroness of Giedi Prime. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would come this far, especially not when you boarded a Harkonnen ship in fear to escape the Bene Gesserit and your destiny. The destinies you were meant to fulfil... just a little differently than the Reverend Mothers would have wanted.

"The essence of the bride hunt is that she runs away from her groom. She is not supposed to be waiting in their chamber for him. I didn't expect you to make it so easy for me to catch you. This isn't like you." Feyd grumbles, suddenly finding himself behind you. You sigh as he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. You take his hand in yours and squeeze, resting your head on his shoulder. You can't help but smile as your black and gold wedding rings reflect in the mirror. "You've ruined my fun, wife. And I should consider leaving the veil outside our bedroom door as an insult and your lack of faith in my abilities to find you."

"I didn't feel like running away from you today. You could say you've had your fair share of bride hunting over the years I've been here." He chuckles against your neck, placing a few small kisses there.

"So clever. My baroness. My wife." He purrs, marking your neck, releasing one of his hands from your grip, and removing the ruby necklace from around your neck.

"I have a gift for you." You tell him before he starts stripping you out of your wedding dress. Black diamonds woven into your dress create beautiful, embroidered red flowers, and the sleeves and neckline of the dress are decorated with lace, of course, also in the colour of blood. You think Feyd sacrificed a few slaves on purpose to show the seamstresses... the perfect colour for your wedding dress.

As beautiful as the dress was, you'd also rather have it lying on the floor. However, you need to tell him something important before he starts your wedding night.

"You have? I did not expect it. I have nothing in return for you. I can always…"

"You will not bring me the heads of your concubines on a gold platter. We agreed that they would become my servants and that would remain so." You interrupt him before he can propose it to you again. You watch him take a breath before he speaks again. You place your finger on his lips, silencing him, knowing full well what he wanted to say. "I don't want anyone's head. It's enough for me that you hung Atreides' head like some kind of decorative horn in the throne room. By the way, we'll have to take it off when the Emperor's delegation arrives."

"Again, you're spoiling my fun, wife." He grumbles, offended, but doesn't let go of you from his embrace. He rests his chin on your shoulder and looks at the two of you in the mirror. He plays with the bandage on your hand and smiles, remembering how he pierced your joined hands with a dagger a few hours ago. You were his. His baroness. His woman. "What do you have for me?" He asks, nuzzling your temple before pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

Your eyes meet in the mirror as you take his hands in yours. You gently slide them down from your collarbones, over your chest, and into your belly. You press his hands so he can feel the tiny pregnancy bump through the fabric of your dress.

You watch his reaction carefully, biting your lip as you try not to smile at his shocked look. His fingers press further against your stomach, as if to make sure what he feels is real. He tenses when he realises it's true.

"You are… how long?"

"A few weeks."

"A few weeks?" He asks, both surprised and offended that you kept him in the dark for so long. You frown at him and turn to look at him properly and not through the mirror.

"I wanted to make sure she is okay and grows properly."

"She?" You frown when you hear the disappointed tone with which he receives this information. You feel the anger boiling inside you, all the joy and excitement leaving you as you realise this isn't what he expected. That he expected you to give him the Kwisatz Haderach first.

"Yes... is that a problem?" You ask him, furious. He realises what it might have sounded like to you. He sighs, looking away from you and focusing on the wall behind you. He clenches his fists and takes a few breaths, trying to calm down and not think about how you could ever accuse him of discriminating against your unborn child based on gender.

"NO. Not at all. I don't care about the sex, as long as it's healthy. I just... thought we were going to have a boy first." You shudder slightly, remembering what Atreides had shown you on Arrakis—the future that would await you at the hands of your own son. But it was different then.

You did everything to prevent your future from being like this: you confessed your love to Feyd first, you made sure that you showed him the same devotion as he showed to you, and you made sure that your firstborn would be a daughter. However, there was still a small seed of fear in you. After all, Feyd killed his mother, so how could you be sure that, ironically, your potential son wouldn't do the same?

"What's wrong?" Feyd asks, cupping your chin between his two fingers. You flinch, but you don't move away from him.

You place your hand on his, holding it in a tight grip as you steady your breathing, not even noticing that you had found yourself in such a state of panic. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, the beating of your heart, and the feeling of Feyd's hand in yours as you try to calm down.

"I… had… visions."

"Of course. Visions." He replies mockingly and removes his hand from your grip. He takes a few steps back, looking at you with reproach and bitterness in his blue eyes, which now resemble the ocean in a dangerous storm. "I thought that by defeating Atreides, we were done with visions, fate, destiny and especially with hiding important information from each other. But I guess I was wrong after all. Well, so do you. You can take the Bene Gesserit out of the order, but you can't take the order out of the Bene Gesserit."

"Feyd… it's not like that." You say this as you reach for him, but he pulls away from you before your fingertip can touch his skin. It hurts you that he thinks you have any connection to these witches, but you can't say you're surprised by his behaviour or that it's unreasonable. You just couldn't tell him what you saw without worrying about him getting paranoid.

"So what's it like?! You're not hiding anything from me? You don't make decisions completely by yourself? I understand that you want to be your own boss and make your own decisions, but you're my wife! What would you do if the roles were reversed? What if I hid from you what you hid from me?!"

"Feyd..." You try again, but this time he pulls away from you as if your touch would burn him. Before you can say anything, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him with such force that you're sure everyone in Giedi Prime heard it.

You sigh in defeat and lean your head against the wall. You hiss as the crown on your head prevents you from leaning back comfortably. You yank it out of your elaborately styled hairstyle and throw it across the room, not even flinching when the jewels shatter on the floor.

"Don't worry my sweethearts, everything will be fine. Dad's a little mad at me, but he's right. Even if he acts like an overgrown, spoiled little baby. I promise you that I will do everything to make us happy. All four of us." You whisper, wondering how the hell you're supposed to deal with your angry husband. This is not what your wedding night should be like. But was anything in the two of you's lives as it should have been?

"I'm having a little déjà vu, aren't you?" You ask, leaning on the doorframe of his private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow he received from the furious man which now is your husband.

You're reminded of how you found him here in a similar condition a few months ago. Only then were you just his right-hand man, and he showed no... visible signs of interest in you. And now you were his wife and pregnant. And thousands of other things happened along the way.

"Leave." He growls at you and plunges his blade into the dead man several times. You sigh, throwing the towel you brought for him to the nearest chair and pulling out your own dagger.

"Fight with me." You request, looking at him carefully. He stops in his process of punching holes in the dead man's body, changing it into a sieve, and he looks at you in shock.

"You are with child." He responds emotionlessly, going back to abusing the prisoner's body.

"And? I haven't been pregnant that long that I can't kick your ass." You can see that this comment irritates him by the way he plunges the dagger deeper into the man's flesh. He clenches his jaw tightly, trying his hardest not to snap at you. After all, you were pregnant. He had to be gentle with you.

"Get out of here, woman. I won't fight you in this condition." He replies firmly, turning his back to you and walking to the table to pour himself some water.

You take a closer look at the muscles in his back; his body is painted red with the blood of the people he killed in his rampage. You purse your lips, shaking your head.

You sneak up on him and press the blade to his throat as he drinks. His Adam's apple bobs at the feeling of your cold steel against his neck. He turns his head to give you an annoyed look, as if you were a cat that had scratched him with its claws.

"Y/N..." He mutters menacingly, clenching his hands into fists. You lean in, lips brushing his earlobe and biting it after you whisper back:

"Feyd."

The low growl is all the warning you get. He pushes you away from him and reaches for his blade. You block his attack, your steels colliding with each other in a distinctive clanging sound. He doesn't move to attack first, watching you carefully and blocking your every attack as you try to leave a small scratch on his skin. You're furious that he's holding himself back and that he's making sure his blade doesn't even touch your skin, which is exposed by your regular combat gear.

You growl as you manage to break through his defences and stab him in the shoulder. He screams in anger and finally starts attacking you. You gasp, blocking his blows every now and then, and for obvious reasons, he doesn't hit you from the waist down. You're starting to get tired, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins and your own pride won't let you stop your fight. Feyd notices it, though. And he decides to end it.

He drops his blade and grabs your arms tightly. He pushes you against the wall, pinning you against it with his body. You both breathe quickly, staring wordlessly into each other's eyes as you press the dagger to his neck. His black blood drips from his shoulder onto the floor, the only sound in the empty room apart from your ragged breaths.

"I love you. Don't ever doubt that." You whisper and lean forward, capturing his lips in a furious kiss. His fingers dig into your arms even more, surely leaving small bruises in the shape of his fingertips as he uses his body to block you from making any movement.

You moan, pressing the dagger harder against his throat as he bites your lower lip. Feyd growls, and with a quick, confident movement, he grabs the gun from your hand and throws it across the room, unknowingly hitting the dead man's body.

You moan as his hands land on your hips. He lifts you up, rubbing his length against your pussy and biting your chin. You growl, digging your nail into his neck and wrapping your legs around his hips, gasping as you become wetter with each of his light thrusts into your clothed core.

"If I knew that all I had to do to get you like this was to argue with you, I would have done it the moment you chose that disgusting cake for our wedding."

"The cake was delicious, it's not my fault you're such a picky pain in the ass." You mumble back and bite into his neck. He moans softly, grabbing your hair in a tight grip.

"I quite like being a pain in your ass." He says this and grabs your hips. You wrap your arms around him and hold on to him as he carries you through the halls of the Harkonnen stronghold. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, trying to ignore the curious glances from the servants and passersby who look away as soon as they meet Feyd's hostile gaze. "I wish I had the opportunity to get you out of that dress. You looked beautiful at our wedding."

"I won't wear that dress again just because you decided to do your monthly sulk today. It took the maids an hour to put me in it." You grumble as he opens the door to your chambers.

"Do not worry honey. I'll undress you. And I will dress you up. And I'll undress you again. I have all the time in the world, my wife."

"And here I thought you'd rather spend your time differently than dressing me like a doll. More… active and enjoyable." You giggle as he places you on the bed at your remark. His fingers wander under your black linen shirt as he unhurriedly undresses you.

"Do you doubt that I have the time, skill, and stamina for both?" He proves his point by leaving a few hickeys on your neck. You smirk, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer to you. You wonder since when he has so much power over you (and you over him) that it only takes a few hours for you to reconcile.

Either you've come a long and successful way in developing your relationship, or you're simply getting too old for constant drama and want to finally have a moment of peace. But you weren't complaining if every little fight you had would end with you acting like idiots in love with each other again at the end of the day.

You sigh, drawing patterns on your husband's head. His arms tighten around you as you move, as if he's afraid you'll try to get away from him.

"As much as I like this, I must remind you that you have other responsibilities as a baron besides holding me."

"Possible. But holding my pregnant wife is my most important duty, to which I choose to devote myself completely today. Especially since you are getting closer to giving birth. The birth of twins, I would like to point out." He mumbles, pressing a kiss and rubbing his nose against your bump, and nuzzling into you.

"It's just childbirth, not a fight on Arrakis against the Fremen." You joke, rubbing his back. He purrs, snuggling even closer into you, making sure his arm wraps protectively around your belly.

"I'd be a lot more confident about your safety if you went to fight those rats instead."

"Said the man cuddled up to his pregnant wife." You try to ease his concern just a little. But you know your husband very well. Enough to know that he's stubborn as hell to give in so easily and forget about his fears.

"Does it bother you that I'm forming a bond with my unborn heirs?"

"No. Not at all."

"So let me continue, little witch, or I will silence you." You laugh, fully aware of his ways of shutting you up. He rolls his eyes at you, stands up, and kisses you, making you giggle even more. He breaks the kiss and presses his lips against your forehead before returning to his position as your protector.

"I'll be alright. We're okay. All three of us." You assure him and place your hand on his cheek, caressing it tenderly.

"I should punish you for hiding something so important from me again." He brings up the fact that… I missed telling him that yes, you are pregnant, but with twins. A girl, as you said, and a boy.

"That was months ago. Besides, there are many things I told you. Like my visions and everything. And I didn't get an award for it, so you can say we're even."

You defend yourself, and he just chuckles. A rare thing. But it seemed that with you and in the solitude of your shared quarters, (yes, he refused to have separate bedrooms. Something about how he had waited too long for you to spend even a night without you in his bed now anyway.) he did it a lot more often.

"You're way too smart, little witch. If you didn't love me, you would dethrone me in a week."

"Maybe even less." You banter with him with a smirk. You squeal as he tickles you, feigning outrage at your insult. You grab his hand in a tight grip and stop him.

You both freeze when your stomach suddenly bulges in one place. Feyd looks worriedly from you to your belly and hesitantly reaches up with one finger to stroke the small bulge. It disappears as quickly as he touches it. You giggle, realising that one of the kids must have stuck out its leg.

"I will teach them to fight. Both of them. They will be great leaders. One will get Arrakis and Lankiveil and the other will get Giedi Prime. They will support each other and fight for each other. They will get everything."

"Everything we didn't have."

"Yes." Feyd says thoughtfully, examining your belly. He presses his mouth there and cups your belly with his hands. You giggle when you suddenly get kicked by one of the twins, and you pull him towards you to hug you again.

"To be honest, I expected the first thing you would do was make them fight the snakes to prove their strength."

"I'm not my uncle."

"I know." You say and press a kiss to the top of his head. "You're… so much more. Someone much better than anyone ever wanted or thought you were. Never doubt it."

He nods and hugs you tighter. You sigh, happy with how close he is to you and the way he holds you. You could assure him that everything was fine, but the truth was that you were afraid of what the future would bring. If you were wrong... no. You couldn't think like that. You had Feyd by your side. And that was all that really mattered.

"We should name the girl Katerina."

"Katerina? Why?" You ask, turning your gaze towards him and frowning. The last thing you would expect him to do was to think about names for your children.

"I have a good feeling." He replies with a shrug and pulls you closer to him. You know him too well not to know he's up to something. However, you decide not to ask him about it. After all, each of you deserves to have your little secrets. Something you both learned to respect.

"Well, since you've already named the girl, I want to name the boy." He smiles and kisses the corner of your mouth at your request.

"And what do you want to name our son?"

"Feydor."

"Feydor? Why?"

"I have a good feeling." You answer him the same way. He rolls his eyes, but he doesn't ask you anything either. He hugs you tighter and presses his lips against your forehead. It's nice to have him so close to me and feel almost... normal.

Even if your normal was completely different from what was generally perceived as one.

"Your son got lost in the halls of Giedi Prime, the guards and harpies barely found him." Feyd grumbles as he enters the war room. You look up from the papers and watch as your husband slumps onto the sofa with a glass in his hand.

"My son?"

"Our son." He corrects himself, knowing full well better than to raise your ire with such a simple mistake.

"Are you blaming me? Need I remind you because of who Katerina almost killed the heir of Caladan last week because she was bragging about her fighting skills by actually fighting that boy in the arena?" You reproach him. He rolls his eyes and puts his half-full glass on the table next to him, not protesting or arguing with you. "I thought so. So don't blame me for teaching our son my tricks when you teach yours to our daughter."

"I can't believe how easily you turned me into an obedient husband." He complains, standing up and walking over to you. He rests his chin on your head and looks over the conquest plans you've made, glancing at the reports from the front that Rabban sent you.

"It wasn't that difficult at all." You banter with him and cup his chin. You kiss him, enjoying the softness of his lips. He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens it, moaning into your mouth.

You stop when you hear giggling coming from the secret corridor leading to the room. You raise an eyebrow and listen, realising that it's your twins trying to sneak up on you two.

"These kids are going to kill us both."

"We won't give up without a fight, my Baron." You whisper, standing up silently, making no sound as you two establish a 'plan of attack' on your children.

"Oh we certainly won't, my Baroness." He agrees with you with a smile. You answer him with your own, your teeth as black as his.

A moment later, the laughter of your two children echoes throughout the Harkonnen stronghold as you go on a little chase through the secret corridors.

The dagger that Feyd gave you hangs as a decoration in the war room. The steel is old but in good condition, although it is chipped in several places. Or rather, melted under the influence of the blood and wounds you inflicted. You never decided to repair it. It was a reminder of what you went through. All the way from being Feyd's right hand to the Baroness. His wife. The mothers of your two children.

Any visions of the future you had were good. Maybe not perfect, but what would your life be without a little bit of struggle? You and Feyd have proven that you can overcome any obstacle, enemy, or anything that could tear you apart. You were above fate and destiny.

And you will fight for your family with everything you have. Against every Bene Gesserit and everyone who wanted to hurt you or separate you. Being Feyd's right hand has prepared you perfectly for this.

So, this is the end. It feels strange to part with this story (it's the first time I feel this way). At first it was supposed to be just a oneshot, but thanks to your comments and involvement in the story, this miniseries was created. Thank you all for every comment, heart and all the love for this story. Thank you!!!!! (And I hope you will stay longer, for another mini-series with Feyd. ;D) Thank you so much again!! 😊🥰🩵🩵🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🩵🩵 ~ Kasagia

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