imutrt - Tumblr blog

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Petition to start a " Art doesnt need to have meaning" Club

Like what the fuck do you mean you want me to write a paragraph on what went through the artists' head when they created their piece im not a telepath.

Stop asking me what's the meaning behind my photography too I WANNA TAKE PICTURES BECAUSE THEY'LL BE PRETTY NOT BECAUSE THEY'LL EXPRESS SOME DEEP THOUGHTFUL SHIT.

Why can't art exist just because they're pleasing to the eyes?

At this point, trying to come up with a meaning for photos are killing more braincells than math and English😭

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how cringy or bad is it if i give my character a translated name like lisan al-gaib?

Is that an offensive thing to do 😭

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

i will probably write more parts !!!

Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.

Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.

However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.

“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.

“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”

“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”

“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”

“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.

“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.

The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”

He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.

Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.

You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.

Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.

“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.

And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.

Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.

Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 

You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”

Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.

He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.

“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.

He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.

“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.

Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.

“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”

You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.

Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.

You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.

“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”

You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.

“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.

“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”

Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.

It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.

“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”

When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.

“You fear me?”

He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.

He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.

“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”

“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”

“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”

After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”

He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.

Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.

Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”

From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.

But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.

He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”

You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.

“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.

He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.

You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.

“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”

Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.

“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.

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WHY IS EVERYTHING SMUT.

I mean I’m also a horny teen but DAMN PEOPLE.

I’m just trying to read literally anything under timothee chalamet stuff and it’s ALL SMUT. I DONT WANT TO READ THEY 24/7.

All I ask is for angst. 😭😭

It’s also not just timothee stuff like it’s in almost every fandom.

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It's late March everybody!

Happiness Will Come To You.

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John-117|Master Chief relationship thoughts

As y'all know, I think about John alot. And since I'm having writing block, here are my John-117 thoughts of the week.

Our Chief is a man of few words, so it's safe to say this man's love language is Acts of Service. He does things for his partner to make them happy or make their life just alittle easier. I've mentioned this before, don't say you're hungry near him because he will bring his partner food, but it's too much, it's two or three Spartan servings. Doesn't matter if you're a Spartan-IV, he knows your meal requirements down to a science and still manages to bring his partner more than they can manage to eat.

It's okay though because between the both of you, the plates get cleaned because John can eat. Sometimes you wonder if he brings so much so he could eat double and hide behind the excuse that you're hungry.

He'll send a Spartan smile to his partner every time he sees them between missions, often times than not, he’s already being sent onto another mission and only have minutes with his partner. It’s the quickest way for him to express that he’s missed them and is glad they’re okay before boarding the next Pelican.

Going further with this thought for an ODST or Spartan-IV S/o, if he sees you on the field or it’s been awhile since he’s seen them, he’ll swipe his fingers across your faceplate. His partner might or might not understand the significance of it but the Spartans-lls that see it understand that you mean dearly to him.

John is not always the most vocal about his emotions, but his partner has learned to understand his silences. You know when he needs space and when he needs comfort, sometimes he will go find his partner and just sit with them.

He is the type of man who cherishes the small moments you have together. Spartans rarely get downtime, and if you’re also an ODST or Spartan, the time off hardly line up. So every moment with his partner is precious to him.

There is a point in the relationship where you’re able to communicate with John by just a single glance or a small touch and visa verse.

Anyways, those are my top thoughts ladies and gents. Share yours if you’d like, I would love to hear ‘em.

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Muad'Dib and Namasa

" You are not me and I am not you, but you and I are the same thing."

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Also also feel free to share your thoughts!

Vision | Atreides

Summary: Paul asked her " When you look at me, who do you see?"

Pairing: Paul Atreides x fem!oc ( x reader tagged too, scroll if you don't like it)

Warning: hes a sad boi and i dont know anything about the dune universe. ooc. Spoilers! Kind of nsfw ( no details) A sucky ending bc i went off track.

Note: I just saw dune pt 2 yesterday and I already forgot what it's about😅 Lady Jessica will ALWAYS be in my mind tho. She's so beautiful.

In the night, he was growling.

Aethal shifted in the little space she has. They're close together, the heat of Paul's body brushed against her face. Too hot?

She shrugged out of the sleeping pod and placed a hand closer to his neck. Too hot.

" Paul." Aethal let out a low call as he twitch. " Hey."

He does not stop speaking.

The lady held her breath then, gazing at the angry frown on Paul's face, attempting to hear his voice over her own growing heartbeat.

" Kwisatz Haderach." She heard him mumble. " Muad'dib, Atreides.."

" Paul." Aethal was louder, shaking his shoulder. " Wake up."

The silence of the desert returned to the tent in an instant. She heard no breath, no gasp, only the sound of drum inside her chest. His eyes were open, she saw, but he does not blink.

Aethal searched for her water tube in the stillsuit, staring at him still. The liquid didn't reach her mouth yet when Paul lunged for her like the dogs she owned.

They landed in her sleeping pod, his face deep in her neck. In the moment of shock, Aethal felt a trickle of coolness run down the side of her jaw. Water, she realized, and scrambled to close her tube. Something hot licked away the droplets and she froze.

" Don't waste water." Paul whispered, pressing his feverish face against hers. " I want more."

" So you do." She touched his forehead, then kissed him. " You're burning up."

" It's alright. " He panted as they broke apart, " Happens sometimes."

" You can't just have a fever and call it normal, Paul."

" It will go away." He huffed, " It will go away and I'll be fine. Don't worry." He raised his head from her neck and pecked her face. " Aethal, I want water."

" You've got it on you." The lady held his jaw in one hand, and fished out his stillsuit's tube with the other. " Drink it yourself, Paul Atreides. What is it that you're trying to do?"

The boy caught the tube after a long, wordless stare at Aethal, then dropped his head limply onto her chest. " I had a nightmare, Lady Hughoc. In it, my body was split into an equal amount to the names I have." He looked up, eyes heavy and red, shining like sapphire in the glitters of moonlight that the tent allowed through.

" Paul Atreides." He grabbed her hand and guided it to the center of his brows, " Lisan al Gaib." his lips," Kwisatz Haderach." his chest, " Duke of Arrakis." his abdomen, then lower. " Muad'Dib."

" Which part would you claim, Aethal?" Paul whispered, " When you look at me, who do you see?"

Aethal's eyes, just as blue, grew dark as she retracted her hand. Paul's breath quickened when she shrugged him off to her side and kissed him again.

" Why not all of you?" She asked against his lips, " Every part."

" But I'd loose you."

" So you will, then."

" No." He perked, " no."

" Paul." Aethal slid a hand into his hair and pulled him closer. " Who are you today?"

He thought of the celebration today. The large stilltent, all the Fremen inside. Them patting him on his shoulder, congratulating him and others in their shared win against the Harkonnens. Stilgard, preaching the prophecy of Lisan al Gaib, then giving him his name.

" Muad'Dib."

" Muad'Dib, then." her hand touched where he had left her. " I didn't know you in the past, and I won't know you tomorrow until tomorrow comes. If you truly become their Lisan al Gaib tomorrow, I'll still love you. But, if you turn into a sandworm? I'll reconsider."

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Vision | Atreides

Summary: Paul asked her " When you look at me, who do you see?"

Pairing: Paul Atreides x fem!oc ( x reader tagged too, scroll if you don't like it)

Warning: hes a sad boi and i dont know anything about the dune universe. ooc. Spoilers! Kind of nsfw ( no details) A sucky ending bc i went off track.

Note: I just saw dune pt 2 yesterday and I already forgot what it's about😅 Lady Jessica will ALWAYS be in my mind tho. She's so beautiful.

In the night, he was growling.

Aethal shifted in the little space she has. They're close together, the heat of Paul's body brushed against her face. Too hot?

She shrugged out of the sleeping pod and placed a hand closer to his neck. Too hot.

" Paul." Aethal let out a low call as he twitch. " Hey."

He does not stop speaking.

The lady held her breath then, gazing at the angry frown on Paul's face, attempting to hear his voice over her own growing heartbeat.

" Kwisatz Haderach." She heard him mumble. " Muad'dib, Atreides.."

" Paul." Aethal was louder, shaking his shoulder. " Wake up."

The silence of the desert returned to the tent in an instant. She heard no breath, no gasp, only the sound of drum inside her chest. His eyes were open, she saw, but he does not blink.

Aethal searched for her water tube in the stillsuit, staring at him still. The liquid didn't reach her mouth yet when Paul lunged for her like the dogs she owned.

They landed in her sleeping pod, his face deep in her neck. In the moment of shock, Aethal felt a trickle of coolness run down the side of her jaw. Water, she realized, and scrambled to close her tube. Something hot licked away the droplets and she froze.

" Don't waste water." Paul whispered, pressing his feverish face against hers. " I want more."

" So you do." She touched his forehead, then kissed him. " You're burning up."

" It's alright. " He panted as they broke apart, " Happens sometimes."

" You can't just have a fever and call it normal, Paul."

" It will go away." He huffed, " It will go away and I'll be fine. Don't worry." He raised his head from her neck and pecked her face. " Aethal, I want water."

" You've got it on you." The lady held his jaw in one hand, and fished out his stillsuit's tube with the other. " Drink it yourself, Paul Atreides. What is it that you're trying to do?"

The boy caught the tube after a long, wordless stare at Aethal, then dropped his head limply onto her chest. " I had a nightmare, Lady Hughoc. In it, my body was split into an equal amount to the names I have." He looked up, eyes heavy and red, shining like sapphire in the glitters of moonlight that the tent allowed through.

" Paul Atreides." He grabbed her hand and guided it to the center of his brows, " Lisan al Gaib." his lips," Kwisatz Haderach." his chest, " Duke of Arrakis." his abdomen, then lower. " Muad'Dib."

" Which part would you claim, Aethal?" Paul whispered, " When you look at me, who do you see?"

Aethal's eyes, just as blue, grew dark as she retracted her hand. Paul's breath quickened when she shrugged him off to her side and kissed him again.

" Why not all of you?" She asked against his lips, " Every part."

" But I'd loose you."

" So you will, then."

" No." He perked, " no."

" Paul." Aethal slid a hand into his hair and pulled him closer. " Who are you today?"

He thought of the celebration today. The large stilltent, all the Fremen inside. Them patting him on his shoulder, congratulating him and others in their shared win against the Harkonnens. Stilgard, preaching the prophecy of Lisan al Gaib, then giving him his name.

" Muad'Dib."

" Muad'Dib, then." her hand touched where he had left her. " I didn't know you in the past, and I won't know you tomorrow until tomorrow comes. If you truly become their Lisan al Gaib tomorrow, I'll still love you. But, if you turn into a sandworm? I'll reconsider."

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PLEASE

somehow I got 95/20 on an assignment

I hope they never fix it and leave it this way forever

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Tips on improving essay writing skills?

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STOP TWO CHARACTERS IN ONE EPISODE???!??!??!? PARAMOUNT WTF ARE YOU DOING WHY YOU GOTTA RUIN MY FRIDAY LIKE THIS (ಥ _ʖಥ)(ಥ _ʖಥ)(ಥ _ʖಥ)

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Dogday scenario(?)

Mostly edited, I’m probably going to change/fix the end tomorrow when I’m not tired 💀

Word count: 1,325 Notes: Semi canon compliant, fluff to angst to angsty-fluff and then back to angst, ambiguous ending, reader is not the Player, small description of Dogday's torture (nothing too graphic or gorey), not written with a romantic relationship in mind but can probably be seen as such, written with an adult reader in mind but you can probably read this with a child/teen reader insert as well.

header by @/yizaicons

Dogday who is buzzing with excitement when the you’re introduced as their new caretaker.

Dogday who is the first one to introduce himself to you.

Dogday who loves the way you treat him and his friends like equals.

Dogday who will purposefully get dirty just so he has an excuse to visit you.

Dogday who loves how careful you are with him and his friends.

Dogday who always leaves you soaking from splashing you with the bath water.

Dogday who will immediately fall over when you scratch behind his ears.

Dogday who sees you passing by and immediately drags you into the games he plays with the kids.

Dogday who likes that you entertain him and his behavior, even if you probably have work to do.

Dogday who is surprised that CatNap lets you touch him.

Dogday who is happy that his two best friends get along.

Dogday who will randomly scruff you (despite his lack of teeth) when he really wants to show you something.

Dogday who gets in trouble a lot for leaving his designated area to see you.

Dogday who swears up and down he doesn’t have favorites even though it’s painfully obvious he does.

Dogday who appreciates that you don’t push for answers when he comes to you after a particularly rough day with the Doc.

Dogday who will drag you all the way back to Playcare when you’re working overtime, late into the night, refusing to sleep until you finish your work.

Dogday who asks CatNap to help you sleep as you insist you’re fine but don’t make any sort of attempt to get him to drop you.

Dogday who sleeps with you on his chest that night, CatNap curled up nearby and watching for any of the higher ups.

Dogday who has a bad feeling in his gut on August 8th.

Dogday who tells the rest of the Smiling Critters to gather up the kids before running out in search of you when all hell breaks loose.

Dogday who doesn’t have the time to care about the employees that he knocks over in search of you.

Dogday who scruffs you and doesn’t stop running when he finds you.

Dogday who is way too quiet when you try to ask what is going on.

Dogday who tries to get back to the other Smiling Critters while protecting you.

Dogday who can’t fend off all the toys jumping to get a piece of you.

Dogday who has no choice but to run and hide with you.

Dogday who knows how to find all the best hiding spots thanks to Catnap.

Dogday who curls up around you in a high, dark corner.

Dogday who hugs you close, your ear against his chest and a paw against your other ear, trying to spare you of the screams and gore happening below.

Dogday who is as cautious as ever as he climbs down first, catching you after telling you to drop down when he deems the coast is clear.

Dogday who is being the most serious you’ve ever seen him, begging you to stay quiet as he navigates the blood soaked halls of the factory.

Dogday who keeps your vision obscured as he carefully tries to make his way to an exit.

Dogday who fails to get you out of the factory at every turn.

Dogday who has no choice but to try and locate the others.

Dogday who doesn’t really know where he’s going. Dogday who can't just use old trails of your scent to find his way back due to the smell of iron suffocating his nose.

Dogday whose heart sinks when he finally gets to the Playcare, empty.

Dogday who finally puts you down after you start squirming and demand answers.

Dogday who hesitates, eyes darting around for any sign of life other than the two of you, but finding none.

Dogday who tells you that all of the toys in the building were once people, mostly the very kids you would spend time with.

Dogday who wants to just hug you as you get paler and paler with every word that leaves his voicebox.

Dogday who sighs in relief when you let him pick you up again after he tells you what he knows.

Dogday whose heart sinks the longer you both go without finding any friendly, familiar faces.

Dogday who tries to get you out of the factory one more time.

Dogday who knows he can’t fight the toys that are guarding the exits without you ending up dead.

Dogday who feels guilty for being slightly happy that you get to stay together.

Dogday who helps you rummage through the kitchens the next day, his sharp nose finding canned goods and some seeds from an old activity done with the kids.

Dogday who, a few months of you two wandering and hiding, somehow finds an area higher up that has sunlight coming through.

Dogday who helps you make a little garden in what will soon become your safe haven.

Dogday who becomes your personal guard dog over the years.

Dogday who never leaves you by yourself for too long.

Dogday who does his best to keep you happy despite the dreary circumstances.

Dogday who wishes he could get you both out of the factory.

Dogday who reserves what he has left of his vanilla scent for days that are particularly hard on you.

Dogday who always takes you with him when he goes out to look for anything useful. Dogday who hopes his friends are still alive.

Dogday who has found a slice of heaven with you in this hellhole.

Dogday who is pleasantly surprised but worried when he wakes up to you presenting him with his favorite snack from the Playcare. Dogday who always curls up around you when the sun sets, an ear always listening if he accidentally falls asleep.

Dogday who still tries to look on the brightside of things even after almost a decade of the same survival routine.

Dogday who feels as if he should do something special for your birthday this time around.

Dogday who for the first time in a long time leaves your safe haven without you before the sun is up.

Dogday who ventures to the lower levels of the decrepit factory to look for your old office.

Dogday who found your old scrapbook, filled with memories of a better time.

Dogday who was so proud of himself, he didn't notice the red gas filling the room, spewing from the mouth of the lanky purple figure behind him.

Dogday who is initially overjoyed to see CatNap when he wakes up, still believing him to be the same as before.

Catnap who is very skeptical and won't let Dogday leave.

Dogday who slowly realizes that they've both changed severely in the past (almost) decade.

Dogday who tries to play along for now, but gets more skittish and antsy the longer he stays.

Catnap who notices, an almost knowing expression on his forever smiling face, asking his old friend if something is wrong.

Dogday who was never good at lying.

Dogday who refuses to give you up, even as his legs are ripped off by the one he used to call a friend. Dogday who screams until his throat is raw, but refuses to speak a word of you.

Dogday whose mind is only filled with you as he hangs in a cell, labeled a traitor for all to see.

Dogday who had accepted a long time ago that his friends were most likely no more, and yet the flicker of hope he felt when he first saw CatNap was crushed, stomped and spat on as the feline proudly flashed their rusted tags, making him want to retch all over again, twisting the figurative knife of guilt and failure deeper.

Dogday who loses track of how long he's been hanging in the Playhouse, the tiny critters slowly eating away at him.

Dogday who feels terrible that he didn't even leave you a note of some sort. Left you to wake up alone and confused, scared.

Dogday who beats himself up for letting his guard down and leaving you defenseless.

Dogday who feels an odd sense of relief when Poppy's angel finds him.

Dogday who tries to tell Poppy's angel to find you, to protect you, but is interrupted by the tiny critters.

Dogday who wants to sob and scream and cry as he is chewed on from the inside out and piloted around.

Dogday who can only mumble apologies to you once he's left to rot, a husk of the dog he used to be.

Dogday who, despite his final moments, is happy that he got to spend the last decade keeping you safe and content.

Dogday who is certain that even his mind is trying to torture him, certain he's hallucinating your blurry figure running up to him, the sound of his name falling on dead ears as he shuts his eyes.

[imutrt]

Princess Min'Jing of Yiti

[imutrt]

The visuals are beautiful, but the characters are so boring lol.

Wished the robot had more scene it seemed interesting.

[imutrt]

Something that always boggles my non english speaking part of brain are the weird naming in fics 😭 especially when theres a foreign name involved like where did half of the character's name go WHY IS THE FIRE BATMAN CALLED LUC INSTEAD OF DILUC IS THAT HOW ENGLISH WORKS

[imutrt]

achilles heel ii.

summary. love is a sin. the regrator is a sinner.

trigger & content warnings. threats of physical violence, nightmares.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. found family (moreso than the first post), fluff, slight angst. pantalone & young teen!reader, slight arlecchino & young teen!reader. 2.6k words. they/them pronouns used for [name]. this fic is divided into six drabble-like sections. this fic is the second part of achilles heel; please read the first post before reading this one.

author's thoughts. teehee pantalone....... he is never dad-ified enough i swear. he has so much dad potential. look at him. silly rich guy (<- he is a criminal and is NOT silly).

i. a slip of the tongue ♡

       Their enrollment into the House of Hearth came with two specific conditions:

       One, Arlecchino would not have ultimate authority over them. They didn't disrespect her regardless, but Pantalone was insistent that her authority should not exceed his over them. He was their caretaker, after all. They were a special case in the Knave's orphanage—an orphan but not quite an orphan.

       Two, that they returned to his residence on weekends, which wasn't something they or Arlecchino has any qualms with. She didn't exactly get along with the Ninth, but oddly, she didn't argue either of his conditions.

       (They felt immeasurably guilty, however, that they had a home to return to. That was a privilege unique to them. The orphans of the House of Hearth did not have such a luxury; hell, those children could not even dream of a home outside of the orphanage.)

       This was one such weekend. Upon returning home, they let themselves into Pantalone's office—of course, not before ensuring he was not occupied with another Harbinger or other business partners of his. Had he been, they would have only entered once he was done.

       "I'm back, Father."

       ...

       Immediate terror stuck their chest. Admittedly, their reaction once they processed what had just come out of their mouth was a bit dramatic, but still! Had Arlecchino's children somehow rubbed off on them? All of her children tended to call her 'Father', but they only ever called her by her name...

       The Regrator paused what he was doing, wordlessly setting his pen down.

       "...Sorry, dear, could you repeat that? I didn't quite hear you."

       "Um. I said I'm back."

       "After that."

       "..."

       "[Name]."

       "I didn't say anything after, I swear." They were completely flustered now, hand shyly fidgeting with the strands of hair securely held back by what had once been Arlecchino's hair clip while their gaze settled anywhere that wasn't on the Harbinger. "I didn't..."

       "You are a terrible liar."

       "I'm— I'm not."

       He smiled at that, gingerly shedding his gloves and rings.

       He thought it was a bit cruel of him to create any kind of distance between himself and the little thief he brought into his home, especially in what was such an important and vulnerable moment.

       It was then that he beckoned them closer. They obliged, albeit hesitantly. His hands gently smoothed down some wild strands of their hair—presumably caused by whatever the Knave had put them through that day. His tenderness seemed to calm them down a little bit.

       "Do you see me as a father figure, [Name]?"

       They pouted. "I don't know. Maybe. It just came out. I didn't think about it. Sorry."

       If Pantalone was any more morally correct, he might worry about who they were looking up to, but...

       Their immorality was inevitable, really, so he tried not to concern himself with it too much. It was the one consequence associated with taking them in. It was one that simply couldn't be avoided.

       Pantalone had come to terms with that fact some time ago.

       "Don't apologize. I don't mind if that is the case."

       "...Okay."

       He held himself together with skillful grace that was only to be expected of someone like him, but the second they left his office, he slammed his head on his desk, resisting the compelling urge to just sob.

       (...He was probably the reason they had become a tad dramatic.)

       Oh.

       That day, the Ninth learned two things:

       One, [Name] had adopted a more formal method of speech, which was good. It would be useful in the future. His lower priority business partners, the general nobility of Snezhnaya and other nations... those people would all expect his child to take on a more refined demeanor. It was good that they already were.

       Two, which was objectively more important in his mind (because really, he did not care for the opinions of people who had never struggled a single day in their lives), he had unexpectedly become an actual father. Not just a caretaker, but a father.

       Oh, fuck.

ii. third time's a charm ♡

       "Can I keep him?"

       "Absolutely not."

       "Please? Come on. He won't cause any trouble!"

       Pantalone pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing deeply. How could he have possibly gotten himself into this situation a second time? Perhaps he really was spoiling them just a bit too much. "[Name]. You cannot continue bringing wild animals into our home."

       They pouted, holding up the little feline in their arms. It may have been small and harmless at the moment, but a snow leopard such as the one they snatched up from the streets would surely grow impossibly bigger, provided enough time and proper nutrition. "Father..."

       He shot them an annoyed look. They could only smile innocently.

       "Don't 'Father' me, [Name]."

       "I've taken good care of Winter thus far!" Said fox chirped upon hearing her name. "Look, see—she's perfectly healthy. I can handle another pet!"

       "You named her Winter?"

       They shrugged. "It's always winter in Snezhnaya, so..."

       He couldn't help but chuckle fondly, teasing, "Clever."

       "I doubt you would have came up with a better name, Father," they huffed playfully. "Anyways, come on! Look, how can you say no to a little face like this?"

       Neither of the two said anything for a moment. [Name] held up the little squirming cat with one hand, supporting its hind legs with the other.

       It was clear to Pantalone that they would not budge.

       A deep sigh left his lips.

       They knew they had won.

       Once again, Pantalone welcomed another unexpected guest into his household.

       He could unflinchingly deny Il Dottore further funding for his experiments. He could ruthlessly send out the agents employed under his command to collect the debts of those foolish enough to leave them unpaid without so much as a second thought.

       Somehow, he could not deny his child another exotic animal.

       Oh well. At least the feline would eventually grow into a suitable bodyguard for [Name], he supposed.

iii. ultimatum ♡

       Whenever Pantalone had free time during the work week—which... wasn't very often—he had grown into a habit of visiting the House of Hearth.

       His darling child was there. How could he be expected to stay away?

       (The Knave grit her teeth, clenched her jaw, and ultimately bit her tongue when he kept showing his face in her territory again and again. As much as she didn't like the Ninth... she would have to tolerate it, she supposed. He was too preoccupied with [Name] to bother her the majority of the time, anyway.)

       The children were all polite and respectful with him whenever he came around, often pointing him in the direction of their sibling-in-arms. They were typically lingering around the younger children, engaging with them and entertaining them in a way that a doting older sibling might, but for some reason...

       They weren't there that day.

       "One of the matrons wanted to talk to [Name], sir. I don't know why," one of the younger children his child typically surrounded themselves with had told him.

       He was surprised to find that, rather than wanting to speak to [Name], one of Arlecchino's employees seemed to have forgotten just whose child it was she was speaking to.

       "We are raising soldiers," a woman harshly spat, "not regular children. It would be in your best interests, Mx. [Name], to quit teaching them to be soft."

       They blinked.

       "...Um. They're five."

       "Are you even listening?!"

       "Listen," they began, shifting their weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "They're barely five, okay? They'll learn. They can't even wield a sword properly yet. Half of them can't read mid-level literature yet. For now, I think they deserve attention from someone they can trust who won't hurt them. I mean... if I were really doing something wrong, Arle surely would have told me—"

       "You rich little brat."

       That stung, admittedly. With nervous fingers, they plucked at the threads of their sleeve.

       "By the Tsaritsa, if the Ninth himself weren't so enamored with you, I would have your head mounted on the wall for the disrespect you have shown not only us but our Lord."

       She raised a hand, and they flinched back, and then—

       Nothing came.

       "Fa— Father... hi."

       The Regrator's grip on her wrist was crushing, rage barely concealed behind a tight-lipped smile.

       "Hello, dear." Pantalone's eyes were kind when they were on his child, but glazed over with an unsettling iciness upon facing the woman. He leaned down, head tilting slightly as he observed the tense matron who so boldly dared to raise a hand to his child. "Now, I'm certain this was a one-time incident, unless of course you would be interested in taking a... leave of absence to see the Doctor, hm?" His grip tightened slightly in a wordless threat, a promise of a fate more vile than death itself. "A permanent leave of absence, that is."

       Tension weighed heavily in the air.

       Of course, the matron relented. She would have been foolish to not when the fate promised to her would be undoubtedly worse than death.

       "...No, of course not, sir. It won't happen again."

       He released her trembling wrist, adjusting his rings nonchalantly.

       "Good. Go on, then. Leave us."

       "Yes, Lord Ninth."

       She turned on her heel, bowing her head respectfully to both the Regrator and his child before rounding the corner of the hall. Just like that, she was gone.

       Instantly, all his attention shifted to [Name].

       "Are you alright?" he murmured softly, only for their ears to hear. He kneeled down to their level and gingerly tilted their chin upwards to check if Arlecchino's matron left any wounds behind.

       "Yeah, I'm— I'm fine..."

       He was quiet for a moment, thumb gently rubbing along their cheekbone and wiping away the beginnings of tears. The Knave would not like to see them in such a state. The Ninth didn't particularly care for her opinion, but he knew very well that his child did, to a certain degree.

       "...Don't cry, dear. Do not allow yourself to be pushed around. You are worth infinitely more than any agent among our ranks. Do you understand?"

       "Mm-hm. I'm just..." They gnawed on the corner of their lip. "I guess I'm used to it."

       He was quiet for a moment.

       "That will change," he concluded. "You will never be treated so poorly ever again."

iv. bonding ♡

       "Were you never given the opportunity to bake?"

       They hummed thoughtfully, lips pulled into a calm and content smile as they observed their father knead the bread dough they took part in making.

       Indeed, a man as prestigious as him could just have one of his employees do this... but what kind of parent would he be if he refused to bond with his child alone? No genuine bonding would take place if he was not the one engaging with them.

       ...

       Baking also happened to a special place in his heart as a child of poverty, so he didn't mind doing it.

       "Not really. I couldn't afford to. It was too expensive," they mused, trailing off briefly. Pantalone was quiet—patient. He didn't interrupt them or urge them to speak. He simply waited for them to go on. "I didn't get paid well when I was taking thievery commissions. I was small and weak, so it was easy for those older people who commissioned my work to scam me out of what I was owed."

       The Regrator made a mental note to investigate those people further.

       For now, though, his focus was on them.

       "I understand," he reassured. "Baking is indeed an expensive hobby. There was a time where even I could not afford it."

       "I really wouldn't have believed you if you hadn't told me," they said, stealing and snacking on some of the fruits spread across the counter. The Harbinger chuckled fondly, pinching their cheek.

       "Stop that. If you keep that up, we won't have anything to put in the bread. Now, for the next step..."

v. nightmare ♡

       It was the middle of the night when they jolted awake, skin dampened with a cold sweat and fingers relentlessly shaking.

       The House of Hearth's hardwood floor was cold against their bare feet, but it really didn't bother them. It wasn't anything they weren't used to, anything` they hadn't experienced in their past. It was with quiet and purposeful steps that they snuck out of the room they shared with a handful of the younger kids that bonded closely with them.

       Their years of thievery still benefitted them, it seemed, as they effortlessly snuck out without awakening anyone else.

       "What are you doing up at such an awful hour?"

       They practically leapt out of their skin, heart hammering in their chest at Arlecchino's sudden appearance.

       "I, uh—" they began, taking deep breaths in the hopes of calming themselves down. "Um, sorry. You frightened me."

       "Oh? My apologies, then, [Name]."

       Whether or not her apology was sincere was debatable. She seemed to derive very slight amusement from their fright, but gave them a firm pat on the head. It was comforting in its own way.

       "...I had a nightmare," they reluctantly admitted, "so I can't really sleep. Sorry."

       "It isn't uncommon for these things to happen," she replied. "Your apology is unwarranted. You aren't the first and I doubt you will be the last to be unable to sleep."

       "Arle, um... I know I'm not supposed to leave again until tomorrow, but..."

       Arlecchino's eyes were trained precisely on them, and perhaps she might have looked irritated, but in reality, she could not find it within her to be frustrated. They were strong and smart and excelled in the things that they needed to excel in. There was no reason for her to be frustrated with them for something so simple. It was normal for children to seek out their parent following a distressing experience.

       "I will take you back to the Regrator's residence, then. Consider it a reward for your high performance this week."

       "Ah, really? Thank you, Arle."

       "Go get your things. Meet me outside."

vi. found family ♡

       "You're home early, [Name]."

       When they entered Pantalone's office (he lamented the fact that he was still working at such a late hour, but such was unfortunately his obligation as a Harbinger), he was pleasantly surprised, quietly setting down his pen and offering them his full attention.

       "I know." They nodded. "Arle said I performed well this week, so she brought me home a day early. I guess she probably had something to do elsewhere anyway, since she offered."

       "I see."

       A silence settled for a moment.

       The Ninth instantly knew something was wrong when their fingers reached up to their sleeve, absently picking and pulling at the threads. He'd noticed that habit of theirs back when he first put them in the public eye.

       "If there is something troubling you, dear, you are more than welcome to tell me."

       "It's stupid," they murmured, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Maybe they should have just stayed back at the House of Hearth.

       "If it's bothering you, it is most definitely not."

       "I had a nightmare."

       "Ah, I see. Is that why you've come home so late?"

       "...Yes."

       "Do you want to stay with me for the time being, then?" When they nodded, he smiled kindly, opening one arm for them so that the other could be free to finish what remained of his paperwork.

       They were secured in his arms the second he made his wordless offer.

       His fingers tenderly carded through their hair, mindful to avoid his rings catching uncomfortably on their locks.

       Love is a sin.

       In Snezhnaya, love is a sin.

       For his child, Pantalone was a sinner.

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