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#Fear of a blue planet
musiclandoux · 1 year
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: 🎼💙🎼
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Released 16 years ago today - 17th April 2007
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ao3-anonymous · 1 year
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Fastest Growing Fandoms on AO3 This Week (05/23/2023)
Every week I pull data on how many fics are in each fandom and compare to the previous week, then calculate the percentage increase to determine fastest growing fandoms.  Since this naturally skews towards smaller fandoms, I have included the same data filtered to Over 1k, 5k, & 10k fics.
Overall:
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Over 1,000 Fics:
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Over 5,000 Fics:
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Over 10,000 Fics:
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Source: AO3 Fandom Dashboard
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neonpaperlanterns · 11 months
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Addicted to this Chapter Three
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Chapter Three: Not everything but Something
[Part One] [Part Two]
Felix is not patient, he never has been and after this he never will be again. But he knows that if he goes back to Charlie’s office now she will shut him out completely. So he waited and it fucking sucked. 
Did he linger in the area?
Yes.
Was he tempted to do something that would warrant a visit that she couldn't refuse? 
Yes, very much so.
But he didn’t, he was good and just stuck to some light watching. It was interesting to see how she acted when she didn’t think he was present. Or anyone for that matter. He wouldn’t say she was relaxed then again no one around here was at ease. If she was anyone else he wouldn’t care but he wanted to see her relaxed. Wanted to see her with an actual smile on her face. Wanted to see her smiling at him specifically. 
And only him. 
Felix wanted to be the reason she was happy. He needed her to feel joy when she looked at him. When she thought about him. He should be her happiness. 
Though clearly he was going about it wrong. Not sure how that happened but it did. So he needed to play the game a bit differently. He would do what he did with Kimball. Let Charlie see some of that “soft interior” Vanessa was so sure he had. It was tedious but effective. He would dare to bare his soul and if that for some unholy reason didn’t work he wasn’t sure what he would do.
He wasn’t against hurting Charlie. If all else failed he could always resort to what he knew best. But he didn’t think he would have to go that far. If she was heartless then he wouldn’t be dealing with all of this right now.
No, she cared. It was obvious she cared and he just needed to nudge her in the right direction. She would care about him without any of that annoying professionalism in the way. He would be more than just another patient. 
So Felix gave her three days. 
It was a shitty three days but for once he thought being patient might actually be a bit critical here. 
“What are you doing here?” Her greeting wasn’t much of a greeting. He knew she wouldn't be happy to see him. Still didn’t actually like seeing it though. Why did this have to be so hard? Why couldn’t she have just fallen in line like everyone else? Yet if she did act as he had expected would he be this invested?
Did it matter?
It didn’t.
Felix let out a sigh. It was heavy and he let his hands shake ever so slightly as he took off his helmet. He wouldn’t look at her as he set it down on her desk. His fingers tracing along the grooves. 
“I wanted to say I was sorry.” His voice came out thick and warbled like he was going to cry. Casting a glance at Charlie he noticed her frowning. She looked uncomfortable. Good, he wanted to make her squirm.
“You don’t-” He cut her off with a wave.
“No I do.” He swallowed around the nonexistent lump in his throat. “I was bothering you and I should have taken the hint but…” He trailed off.
“But?” Wonderful she was curious and looking at him oh so very concerned. 
“It’s nothing. I don’t have an excuse for my behavior.” He turned away from her acting as if he was going to leave. But a hand reached out and grabbed his elbow. She was tugging him back. The frown deepened on her face.
“No, if something is wrong you should tell me.” Her voice had changed. It wasn’t clipped and cold, oh she was worried. It was written all over her face. Her expression looked so vulnerable. She wanted to help him. 
He loved it.
Turning he removed her hand from his arm but didn’t let go. She didn’t pull away as he carefully interlocked his fingers with hers. His thumb traced along the faint scar lines running along the side of her hand. She was looking at him like he meant something to her. She wanted to help him, comfort him. Take away the pain she sees etched across his face. 
Felix let out a shaky sigh.
“It’s just…” He turned away again, letting her hand slowly fall from his. The noise she made was cute and it was just adorable how she reached for him. That desire to alleviate his sorrow was simply palpable.
“It’s just what?” Charlie implored, keeping him close as her wide eyes overflowed with concern.
“This war has taken so much from everyone.” He kept his eyes downcast. “And I don’t know, I guess I was lonely.” He dragged his hand down his face. “I just wanted a friend and I thought-” He cut himself off, letting his voice come out choked. 
“Oh.” He heard her sigh as her grip tightened. Sneaking a glance he noticed she wasn’t looking at him. Her mouth was turned down and was that guilt he saw?
Yes, yes it was.
“Felix, I’m sorry.” He was over the moon with how his name sounded falling from her lips. So much better than when she had rudely kicked him out. This is how she should be speaking to him. 
“No, don’t apologize. I overstepped.” It was getting harder to sound remorseful. God he just wanted her to hurry up and say that everything was okay and that she would be his. He needed to hear her say she would do anything to make it up to him.
“I mean, yeah you did.” She was gnawing at her lower lip. He resisted the urge to scoff. ‘Excuse me?’ What did she just say? He admitted that he overstepped, she didn’t need to rub it in. But she was still holding onto him and that look of guilt hadn’t left. So he swallowed down the irritation. He was so close, he just knew he was. 
“But it’s alright or well it’s not but I forgive you.” She was speaking quickly, her fingers tapped against his wrist.
“And if you ever need to stop by for medical or non-medical care, my office is always open.” The faintest hint of a smile spread across her face. He blinked slowly. This is not what he expected. She wasn’t throwing himself at his feet and promising him the world. She wasn’t even telling him anything special. Her office was always open. It already was. 
“Thank you,” He paused, watching her face carefully. He wasn’t getting what he wanted but he should at least get one thing.
“Charlie.” That ghost of a smile turned into a real one. It was bright and it was all for him.
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foreverdolly · 21 days
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 4 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.
there is a mild noncon scene in this chapter. read at your own risk or skip past it.
word count: 5.2k
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In that strange place between waking and sleep- that's where you currently existed. You made a home there, wading through the waters of confusion as the events of last night came flooding back to you. At first none of it felt real. It was all a dream. . . it had to be. 
But there was a foreign warmth beside you and something heavy weighing down on your chest, and while your limbs were numb with sleep you could still register that it wasn’t you. Not your arm. 
Not your warmth. 
So you opened your eyes and joined the land of the living once more. 
The mornings on Caladan were lovely. Light filtered through your curtains regardless of the frequent overcast, the sprawling farmlands vibrant and oh so alive all around you. Your childhood home was all blue-grays and greens. The halls smelled briney- slightly citrus during the spring and summer months. The air was always humid, despite the chill; moisture clinging to your skin and clothes. 
Feyd’s room was slate gray and black, slightly bigger than the one you had been sleeping in since your arrival on Giedi Prime. The air was acrid, the scent of iron so heavy in the air that it almost tasted sweet on your tongue. It was on your palate now, nearly causing you to gag when you took in a deep, steadying breath. 
You had wanted to go home the second you stepped foot on the industrial planet, if only because you despised change. You wanted your family, your horses, your ocean-side view. Now, looking back at how childish your home-sick reasonings were, you couldn’t help but feel naive. 
Not one, but many, had conspired against you. They had hopes that their pale prince would cut his losses and grow bored of you, but took it upon themselves to rid their hallowed halls of your presence. Anger began strumming through your veins, begging for release. 
You did not let the feeling take shape. Acting on hate alone would be your undoing, you knew that. Yes, you were not as strong as some of Geidi Primes weakest warriors, but you made up for it with your. . . inherited gifts. 
Your hand flew to your neck, hissing when your fingertips made contact with the tender skin. You groaned, your larynx screaming at protest. Did this mean. . . 
No. 
No, no, no.
You sat upright in bed, Feyd groaning as his arm was flung off of your chest due to your haste. Unable to process the reality that he had been touching you so casually, you instead focused on the fact that the noise you had just emitted sounded choppy. Garbled. Useless.
“My voice,” You started, eyes widening to the size of saucers as the words reached your ears. It was exactly as you feared. “I can’t use it.” 
You could barely speak normally, let alone be able to manipulate the Voice. How long would it take your throat to heal? A few days? A week? A month? It had only taken two days for a few of the Baron’s men to plan out their attack. Who knew when they would try to strike again? You were a sitting duck and you refused to die like this. 
“You won’t need it.” Feyd’s deep voice sounded beside you, the sheets rustling as his muscled body rolled over on the plush bed. 
You tried in vain not to be distracted by his naked chest- by the planes of perfectly toned abs and the swell of his biceps as he stretched them above his head. It was gross to be attracted to him; disgusting, really. 
Even in the light of day- if you could even call the murky gray that came in through the blinds light- the shadows seemed to pool around the bloodthirsty man. He wore them like a second skin. Had become them and learned to wield them at will. 
His face was once again spotless, no blood to be found on him from last night's activities. He had been utterly soaked just a few hours ago. It had dripped down his sword arm, his nightshirt clinging to his chest and shoulders. . . and he had washed it all away down the drain like the lives he had taken meant nothing. 
And it probably didn’t mean a damn thing to a man like him. Someone so used to reaping souls and shattering lives. 
Your chest swelled as you turned to face him, scooting as far back on the bed as you possibly could. When you had fallen asleep he was lounging on the couch. He must have slipped into bed once you were asleep, outwardly lying about the fact that he would put distance between the two of you. 
“I am not safe here.” You spat out, your broken voice still dripping with venom. 
He seemed bored, as if your worries were unfounded. “I will cleave the heads off of anyone that even looks in your direction.” He said simply. Not a threat but a crimson stained promise.
Gone was the starry eyed girl who saw nothing wrong with the galaxy. Your innocence had been stripped from you the second that the man’s hands had found their way around your throat. Your body finally seemed to register pain now that you were fully awake. Your back felt like hell- a purple bruise no doubt marring your skin where it had connected with the heavy dresser. And your cheek? You brushed your fingers over that spot next. It felt hot under your touch. 
“I can protect myself.” That was a lie. You could taste the horribly constructed fib on the tip of your tongue and it was bitter. Impossible to stomach. 
Feyd sat up on his elbows then, looking over your face. His eyes hardened on your cheek, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth when his eyes started to dip lower. How was it possible that anyone expected you to ever grow used to his presence? His eyes on you felt like a hot brand. You attempted to flinch away from him as his hand reached out for your neck, but he touched you anyway. 
“I should have savored that kill. Taken my time.” His voice was still gravely from sleep, but the anger was clear on his face. 
Seeing you like this, for whatever reason, enraged him. You didn’t want to know why. . . at least you told yourself that. A man like Feyd couldn’t possibly care for anyone and you doubted that he would ever be capable of such an emotion. 
“Do you truly take joy in murdering others?” You couldn’t understand him. There was no common ground between the two of you. He was a complete mystery to you. 
They hadn’t even been your deaths, and yet here you were, feeling torn about all of the blood that had been shed. Feyd had killed seven men last night. Were you really worth all of that? 
“I’m culling the herd,” He sat up then, his eyes sparking with a sick sense of delight that had your stomach roiling. This sounded like the ramblings of a madman.“They were weak, body and mind. Disobedient soldiers should always be purged. They were a disease, and I treated them as such.” The corner of his lip tugged up into a small smirk, as if he was reliving the moment that his blade cleaved through flesh and bone. 
“You went overboard on my behalf.” They would hate you more now. Those guards no doubt had loved ones, all of whom would be gunning for you now. 
“Would you rather I left them all alive? Given them a small slap on the wrist?” He was leaning in now, as if being closer to you would give him a better understanding of where you were coming from. 
The sheets wrapped around your limbs, acting like restraints as you tried to back away from him and his intimidating presence. You couldn’t help but feel as though he was sizing you up, questioning whether he could swallow you up in one bite. His eyes, lidded with sleep and hazy with something you couldn’t quite discern told you that he would eat very, very slowly. Your fingers twitched at your sides, his eyes narrowing as though he could smell your fear in the air that the both of you now shared due to your close proximity.
“No,” You hated that you were agreeing with him. “They would have found another way to kill me. I just hate that you had to make such a show of it all.” I hate that I couldn’t kill them myself. 
Who were you to decide if someone lived or died for their crimes? And yet. . . you were glad that they were dead. You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel sorry for them. They got exactly what they deserve, so why did you feel so awful about it? 
Because the “old” you would have begged for their lives to be spared. That sweet, innocent girl would have abhorred the blood and gore, which begged the question: who did that make you now? Has this place truly changed you so intrinsically in a matter of days? You hated the idea that you were adjusting to the environment. It terrified you.
Feyd could see the anger churning behind your wide eyes, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. You were beautiful like this, so accepting of his nature. . . and yet you still fought him. Still fought this. He adored you for it. Loved you for it. There it was again- that word. He let the phrase sink into his bones, settle inside of his chest. 
‘I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. 
Look at what I can do for you. Let me kill again for you. Let me prove my worth. Let me have you. Let me taste you. Let me devour you until there is nothing left.’ 
He was so close now that the heat and smell of him was clouding your mind. Much like the smog outside, he was poisoning the air around you. The sheets tightened around your legs as you tried to kick them off of you, hellbent on escaping the bed and dressing for the day. You were starving, sore, and in desperate need of another hot bath. You still felt dirty after last night, like the stains hadn’t been completely washed away. 
He was looking at you with those eyes. God, his eyes. . . they were blue, bottomless pits and you were sinking. . . drowning. You found it hard to breathe while he was looking at you like that. He was assessing you with a heated gaze that unwillingly set your insides ablaze. His hands were suddenly on the sides of your upper thighs, the insides of his wrists brushing against them. You could feel skin against skin, your thin nightdress doing nothing to shield you from his touch. 
“You wanted them dead, I can tell.” And he smiled at that, a genuine one full of misplaced mirth. 
“I don’t want anyone to die.” Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, so heavy that you suddenly found it hard to speak. 
“I didn’t take you for a liar, little Atreides.” His head tilted to the side as he licked his lips. He was so close to you that his tongue nearly brushed against your parted lips. 
And then he was pulling away, his warmth being ripped away from you far too quickly. Feyd left you on the bed as he sauntered over to his closet, unabashed of his half naked body- almost as though he was proud to show it off to you. His broad shoulders, toned back- it was well earned. It was the body of a warrior- of a killer. 
You had to remind yourself that he was a murderer, tearing your eyes from him. It was almost as though you couldn’t get enough oxygen. Your lungs ached as you realized that he had practically siphoned it out of the room with his commanding presence. 
He terrified you down to your very core. It was as though he was seeing your soul for what it truly was. . . 
And it was as black as his own.
The Na-Baron’s hand against the small of your back felt more like a collar than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was how you appeared to others now, like nothing more than a pet. It was a silent show of ownership, as were his hardened eyes as he turned his head to glare at each and every guard that passed in the hall. Their familiar uniform had your knees buckling and your hands shaking. He must have felt those tremors, for his fingers tangled themselves into the fabric of your shirt, like he could anchor you to him. ‘You’re safe with me,’ the gesture seemed to say. 
The floor had been wiped clean of last night's massacre and it was almost as if it had never happened at all. You wished that you could delude yourself into believing that it hadn’t, but your aching bones were a constant reminder. An Atreides did not belong here. 
The distance that you craved was not something that Feyd seemed keen on granting. When you had finished bathing earlier, your skin scrubbed raw, you had found him lounging back against the bed, eyes trained on the bathroom door. His presence was stifling, as were the halls of this strange empire. They appeared to be tightening around you, reminding you of your lack of freedom. 
A canary in a gilded cage. 
“I’ve been filled in on the events of last night,” The Baron said as a way of greeting when the two of you found your way into the dining room. “You had your fun it seemed, nephew.” He didn’t sound angry, which was good you supposed. Then again, he didn’t sound very approving either. 
Feyd paused for a split second in the doorway, his lips pursing in confusion. You recalled him saying that the Baron always ate his meals in his own quarters. Your throat bobbed as Feyd’s hands urged you further into the room. Suddenly you were no longer hungry. Like a child, you wished that you could dig your heels in and refuse to make your way any further inside. While his nephew scared and confused you, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was an absolute waking nightmare. From his pale, unattractive face to his plump, gluttonous build- even his eyes seemed completely void of any light. Your quivering worsened because you knew, even if Feyd wanted to keep you alive for whatever reason, that he would not disobey his beloved uncle. You would never expect that of him. If the Harkonnen wanted you dead. . . then so it shall be. 
“It was very enjoyable.” Feyd said simply, sitting down in the chair directly beside you. 
The Baron, at his spot at the head of the table, felt miles away. He was assessing the two of you, his gaze bouncing from your form and then to that of his nephew. It wasn’t until Feyd placed his arm over the back of your chair that he finally smiled. It looked more like a sneer than anything else, and all at once you wished to punch those teeth right out of his skull. His ill treatment of your father would never be forgotten, forced marriage or not. 
“You two look. . . close.” He concluded, folding his hands in his lap as he sat back. His dark robes hugged all of the wrong places- he was greed in the flesh. 
Feyd didn’t say anything, but he did lean in closer. It occurred to you that he was acting almost like a shield between you and his uncle. All at once your shaking stopped, your eyes flickering up to meet his face for the briefest of moments before you finally looked down at your plate. Again, the food did not appeal to your appetite. There were no fresh fruits or vegetables. Everything was brown, beige and white. The meals here were void of any color or variety and you found it fitting. 
“We slept together last night, as it should have been from the very beginning.” Feyd said, no room for arguments. His tone was final- absolute, even in the face of the one person that he answered directly to. 
Your cheeks were suddenly blazing hot as you realized how easily his statement could be misunderstood. Your lips parted, as though you could defend yourself and set the record straight, but the Baron was already nodding. He didn’t care either way. You were sent here to procreate, afterall. What the two of you did or didn’t do meant nothing to him. As the daughter of Duke Atreides you were nothing more than a pawn- a bargaining piece at best. Your blood boiled as you stabbed your fork into whatever meat had been served. It was all you could do not to brandish the small serrated blade that laid beside your plate and shove it through one of Vladimir’s overly assessing eyes. 
“I just thought that she might have wanted her own space before the ceremony,” He started, gesturing towards you. It was as though you weren’t even in the room at all. “But I’ll make sure that her things are brought to your room.” 
You did want your own space. Desperately. This whole situation felt wrong, and yet you were helpless. A few more days in your own room was nothing, really. Not when the two of you would be sharing a room for the remainder of your lives. 
“It’s our room.” Feyd corrected, using his free hand so that he could take a sip of his drink. 
His arm brushed against the back of your neck as he leaned forward ever-so-slightly so that he could place the cup back down on the table. The brush of his skin against yours sent a chill down your spine. 
“Very well. Your shared room.” And the Baron seemed pleased.
The cogs started turning in your head as you stared at that expression on his face. Was that gloating that you sensed?
He looked as though he had won. 
It would make no sense at all for the Baron to be so concerned with the status of your relationship, and yet there he had been, smiling as if he had bested you. Did he know something that you didn’t? It would be dangerous to voice the thoughts that you were having- unwise. Feyd was sure to take his uncle’s side on everything. At the end of the day you were little more than a warm, wet hole to breed. . . right? 
Your skin crawled, your breathing growing more and more shallow as the seconds passed. What would your mother do if she was put in a situation like this? The urge to talk to her was stifling, and yet you were here alone. You had no allies here. You had been left to your own devices. 
“You aren’t going to beg me to train with you today?” Feyd asked from the open door of the bathroom. 
He’d left it wide open while he changed, as if he was daring you to gawk and stare. You were too busy panicking to even care that he could very well be naked mere feet away from where you sat on the bed. The Baron was guilty of something, that you knew with certainty. You bit down onto your lower lip, staring blankly ahead at the wall as you became more and more consumed by your frightening thoughts. 
“What are you thinking about, little one?” His voice was right beside your ear and you jumped back, staring wide eyed at where he was kneeling before you. 
He stared up at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him what currently had you so quiet. His uncle had been unusual at breakfast, more so than Feyd was used to. The Baron was a busy man, and the last thing on his agenda was to eat with his nephew and his bride-to-be. He was cautious, and yet he didn’t want you to know. He would handle your safety from now on, even if that meant going against those that shared the very blood that pumped through his own veins. 
The expression on your face had him leaning closer. You were so meek. . . so fearful. The need to protect you was overwhelming. How could someone ever want to hurt you? His eyes flickered over your bruises for the one hundredth time that afternoon, rage settling like lead in the pit of his stomach. 
“I’m thinking. . .” You started, eyes becoming glassy. “That I was sent here to die.” 
Feyd, for the first time in his life, felt helpless. He did not know how to calm you down. The man didn’t know the first thing about comforting someone, but the thought of leaving you to your own devices and panic had a gasp escaping his throat. 
“Do you not believe me when I say that I will protect you? Have I not proved myself?” Actions spoke louder than words, or at least Feyd had always believed that, and yet you didn’t seem to understand what he was trying to say. His actions weren’t enough. 
“You’re protecting me because you have to. I understand that well enough, but that doesn’t mean that something won’t happen. You are the enemy Feyd. My enemy.” You spoke with so much conviction and looked at him like you hadn’t just gutted him. 
Feyd felt as though you had physically slapped him across the face. The chase was fun, but this. . . this wasn’t you acting hard to get. This was you drawing a very clear line in the sand. You didn’t like him and perhaps never would. And maybe it made Feyd even more despicable than anyone ever thought possible, but part of him did not care. You could fight it all you wanted, it did not negate the fact that you belonged to him. It did not negate the fact that he cared for you. . .
Cared so deeply that it had him questioning whether or not he had ever really known joy or a true sense of belonging before now. 
“I am not them.” He rasped out, knowing that you’d understand exactly who he was implying. 
He was not like the others. He never had been. He had a penchant for cruelty and a talent for killing, but he would never hurt you for sport. He knew of Harkonnen men that battered their women simply because they could, but the mere idea of putting his hands on you made him want to sink his blade into his own chest and twist. How could he ever explain that to you? Put his emotions into words when you knew so little about him? How could he tell you that he’d been dreaming of you since he was a child? Vivid, prophetic dreams that left him lonely and impatient. 
“But you are.” There was a strange glint in his eyes that had your words leaving you in a breathy whisper. You were being vulnerable with him. Showing him your worst fears and letting him know that you currently had no more aces up your sleeves. The Voice was useless to you right now, and no matter how skilled you were in combat, it would mean nothing if you were up against an entire planet of people that wished you dead and silenced. You had kept the fear bottled in for three days now, and you had no one to confide in. 
You would regret this, you knew it with a surety that nearly had you choking on a sob. This information could be used against you. He’d make sure that you met your end the second that you birthed him an heir. . . 
So why did he look offended by your words? 
His plush lips parted, blue eyes widening for a second as he fully comprehended what you had just uttered to him. Having you as his would be sweet, yes, but it paled in comparison to the idea that you would eventually care for him in the same way that he did for you. It lit a fire inside of him, and he didn’t understand how to make you see. 
Feyd needed you to open your eyes and understand that he was not your enemy. He was the only person on all of Giedi Prime that was absolutely, without any question or doubt, on your side. He would burn the entire planet to ash if he had to. He’d serve his uncle’s heart on a silver platter and let you eat your fill if it meant that you would come to understand his level of utter devotion. 
You blinked and suddenly you were on your back, a small grunt escaping you as his calloused palm pushed against your chest, too fast for you to even register. He was on top of you, straddling your hips. The weight of him on top of you had your teeth clenching, your traitorous body reacting in a way that sickened you. Civilizations had worshiped at the feet of long forgotten Gods that weren’t half as beautiful and cruel as Feyd-Rautha. 
“You are my wife-” He started to speak, but you were quick to interrupt him, refusing to back down. 
“Not yet.” You seethed. 
Feyd couldn’t help but want to fight you on that, to challenge the unnecessary bite in your tone. If you were so hellbent on treating him like an enemy then so be it. He’d push you to a breaking point. He’d make you love and trust him. He’d show your true enemies such cruelty that you’d have no reason to doubt his convictions. 
And before he could reign in his emotions, before he could feel any guilt, he was lurching forward. Long fingers tangled themselves into your hair as his lips pressed against yours. Unyielding, he dominated your mouth, teeth sinking into your lower lip. He needed to taste you- your mouth, your blood. 
Sweat, tears, slick. He wanted all of it on his tongue. 
The years spent waiting and biding his time had been worse than he realized, for the second his lips pressed against yours he found it hard to stop himself. The need that coursed through him now was more powerful than anything else he had ever experienced. You yelped against his mouth in pain, trying your hardest to flinch back at the sharp pain in your lip. The mattress and his unyielding grip on you kept you from moving even an inch. He took advantage of that small sound, his tongue lapping at the roof of your mouth lazily, the salty iron of your own blood invading your senses. 
And he was everywhere. His weight was on top of you, his arms on either side of your head, his fingers buried in your hair- and you couldn’t get away. You tried bucking him off, hands grabbing at his training shirt so that you could try and pry him off of you. The muscles in your arms strained as you pulled, thighs quivering as you tried your damndest to flip him over onto the bed. You would not kiss him back. 
No matter how badly your instincts were telling you to give in. That voice in the back of your head was loud, but the sound of your own pounding heart in your ears drowned it out. Your body burned as he slid his hips down slightly, changing his angle so that he could grind himself against you. The friction sent a jolt of what felt like lightning shooting up your spine. It took all of your self restraint not to moan into his mouth, which would no doubt motivate him to push this even further. 
You felt him. All of him, even through all the layers of clothing that separated the two of you. He was hard, to what must have been a point of physical pain, over a mere kiss. His lips were unexpectedly soft on yours, far softer than the very few men that you had kissed in the past. They moved languidly against yours, and you wanted to be disgusted by the fact that he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. 
You hated the part of you that craved this. You could deny it all that you wanted, but the dull ache between your traitorous legs told you what your mind could not: a sick part of you wanted this. Maybe it was the very same part of you that had wanted those guards dead. 
You should hate him. You wanted to hate him. You needed to hate him. 
And then his hands were sliding down the back of your neck, his lips sliding down the base of your throat- 
“Stop! Feyd, stop!” You finally found your voice, sucking in a breath of air. You felt dizzy, and yet your body was more alive than it ever had been. 
Traitor. You were a traitor to your family. 
He sat up then, eyes glazed over, his thick lashes casting shadows on the tops of his cheeks in the dim lighting. 
“Do you hate me?” He panted out, voice thick with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place. It was as if he could read your mind. 
“Yes.” You lied. This lie was even harder to swallow than your last for whatever reason. Maybe it was the heady look in your eyes or your swollen, well kissed lips. . . but Feyd knew you weren’t telling the truth.
“I’ll fuck you until you want me,” And his harsh, horrible words didn’t quite match the tender way he cupped your cheek. “And then you’ll want me so badly that you’ll love me.” 
He got off of you then, forcing himself away from you before he made a mistake. Today was not the day to claim you, not with the previous night so fresh on your mind. He would figure out a way to apologize for his loss of control later. For now he needed a change of scenery, preferably one that didn’t have a bed. . . or a couch. . . or a table. . . or a counter- 
“Pig,” You spat in his direction, quickly fumbling to straighten out your now wrinkled clothing. 
“Your training clothes are in our closet. Put them on.” He was still breathing heavily, pacing around the room with his hands on his hips. His cock was straining against the confines of his pants, begging him to turn around and finish what he started- make good on the promise he just made to you. 
“Are you crazy?” You screamed at him, lurching up from the bed as though you were going to attack him. 
Slowly he turned to face you, his features twisting into something that looked a tad bit like forlorn yearning. 
“Yes,” And he nodded, not denying the fact. “Yes I am.” 
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kasagia · 2 months
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Right hand II
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~
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You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.
You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.
Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.
And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.
A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.
"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.
"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.
"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.
You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…
However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.
You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.
"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.
You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.
"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…
"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."
"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.
For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.
He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.
"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.
"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.
"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.
You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.
"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.
"So what about this? Are you scared?"
"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.
You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.
"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.
It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.
You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.
"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.
Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.
"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.
"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.
He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.
"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.
"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.
He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:
"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.
"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."
"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.
His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.
"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.
"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.
You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.
"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"
"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.
He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.
You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.
You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.
“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."
"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.
"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.
You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.
"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.
"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.
"If I know them, then yes, why?"
"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.
"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.
"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.
"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.
"Don't we?"
"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.
"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.
He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.
You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.
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You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.
The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...
“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.
As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.
“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.
"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."
"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.
"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.
"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.
Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.
It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.
"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.
He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...
"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"
"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.
"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'
He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before? 
He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.
But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.
"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.
Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.
You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.
Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.
And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.
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"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.
"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.
"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.
"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.
"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."
"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.
"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.
You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.
"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."
"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"
"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.
"What?"
"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."
"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.
"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"
"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.
"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.
No. I was supposed to be your pet.
"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.
"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.
"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.
"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.
You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.
"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...
"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."
"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.
You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.
"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.
"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...
"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."
As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.
You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.
You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.
On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.
What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.
You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.
At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.
"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.
"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.
"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."
This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.
"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.
You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.
He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.
At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.
You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.
"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."
You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.
You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...
You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.
"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.
Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...
He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.
"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.
"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.
"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.
You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.
The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.
"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"
"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.
"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.
"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.
"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.
You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.
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You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.
The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.
As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.
"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.
"The little witch is in trouble…"
"Our master will be very angry with her…"
"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"
They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.
"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.
"The little witch's friend is here…"
"Our master is interrogating her…"
"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."
"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."
"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."
And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.
"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.
You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.
You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.
So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.
You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.
You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.
Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.
"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."
"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.
"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."
"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.
His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.
"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.
Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.
You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.
You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.
You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.
You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..
You were the only one left alive.
From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.
You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.
And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.
You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.
For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.
But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.
You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.
Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...
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Part IIITaglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13
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herosparade · 2 years
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tag dump ! 
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lady-phasma · 2 months
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Diplomatic relations
Feyd x gn!reader
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI! NSFW, spit as lube (I guess, kinda), penetration, honestly a little tame compared to my usual stuff.
The poll came in at 57% soft!Feyd so here we go. This is probably as soft as I can make him.
Summary: No physical description of reader. Feyd is on a diplomatic tour of an unnamed planet (not Caladan) under Harkonnen rule. You catch his eye, smuttiness ensues. Plot if you squint. 4k words
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You looked away almost as soon as his eyes met yours. You didn’t want to be caught staring at the na-Baron. Feyd-Rautha’s presence on your planet had cause quite the uproar. Though many of the houses were pawns for the Harkonnen, some still remained who defied the colonizers. Your house couldn’t openly oppose the Harkonnen, but you knew that they were not respected. They were feared. They were fearsome after all. The na-Baron’s delegation had been sent to keep the peace, to quell uprisings, to provide confidence to the planet. You supposed it worked for some.
However, you wondered if the na-Baron was enthusiastic about his diplomatic responsibilities. He looked bored and distracted. You hadn’t thought it would be possible for him to notice one person out of the hundreds who crowded the city streets to show allegiance. But someone had caught his eye. He straightened a bit, turning his head slightly to look at you as the procession moved on. You swallowed hard and looked away again.
Your thoughts whirled and spun the rest of the day. That night, you would be in the same room as the na-Baron, possibly as close as the next table. Your house had the “honor” of hosting him on his first night in the city. You were preoccupied as you went about your errands, looked over the financial ledgers, dressed for the dinner. The hours seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly, dragging on for days.
As you walked into the main hall that evening your eyes searched for the na-Baron. You didn’t even realize you were doing it until a servant spoke to you and you hadn’t heard them. You nodded, unsure to what you were agreeing, and walked through the groups of people mingling and conversing.
You found your seat at the secondary table. The head table was reserved for the Duke and his guests. You continued to scan the room, lost in thought, unable to put your finger on why you were intrigued by the na-Baron. You barely heard the sounds around you, the chattering was a dull noise. You felt a chair pull out next to you but didn’t register who the occupant was until it was too late.
Feyd’s fingers stroked the utensils on the place setting, lightly aligning any that were askew. You looked up from his pale hands to his face. You were startled to see that he was staring at you. The Harkonnen skin and hairlessness were disarming amidst the bright colors of the hall.
“You must be old enough to know that it is rude to stare,” Feyd smirked as he spoke. “Surely you have seen a Harkonnen envoy before?”
“I- I-“ you stumbled over your tongue, then swallowed. “Yes, my Lord na-baron, I have seen such an envoy before.”
“And?” Feyd stretched the word out.
“Yes, I came of age last year and I know my manners,” you replied. You straightened your shoulders, squared them, and turned to face him more fully. “Did you need assistance to find your seat?”
Feyd laughed. His black teeth caught the light and you stopped a gasp before it could leave your mouth. They were almost horrible to look at, but the lips that surrounded them dulled that impression, somewhat.
The laugh was mocking but amused. He understood your tone as well as your impertinence. His blue eyes on you sent a chill down your spine. Almost as quickly as the laugh had appeared, it was gone. The grin that replaced it was somehow worse.
“No,” he spoke so lowly that it sounded as if the words rumbled from his chest. “No, I believe I already found my seat.”
There was no one on the planet who could make him move and the Duke was too subservient to object. Resigned, you turned back to the table and sipped your wine. All of your emotions mixed together: anger at his presumption, mild fear of his capabilities, and, strangest of all, curiosity. This man was intriguing and intensely attractive in a completely mad way.
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Your food was unremarkable and you barely noticed if you had eaten any or not when they carried the plates away. Your dinner companion barely spoke at all. His interactions with the nobility were perfunctory and diplomatic. There was constantly an air of boredom about him. As imperious as he seemed, you didn’t think that this detachment was intentional. He understood his role here, his duty, but his thoughts were constantly elsewhere.
Only once during dinner did you interact with Feyd. Purely by accident, you turned to him to ask a very discourteous question. You caught yourself but he saw your face and wouldn’t let you go. Like an animal in a trap.
“How may I be of service?” His grin was infuriating. Without context, anyone looking on would think he was being as pleasant as was possible for him.
“It was nothing,” you tried not to spit the words at him, irrationally angry at that grin.
“No, please,” he leaned forward onto his elbows, grin falling just a bit as he dropped his voice. “Go ahead. I won’t command you, but I could.”
Your eyes widened at this, this threat. Was it a threat or a jest? You couldn’t read that infernal mouth. You made your face a mask, attempting to conceal any emotion.
“You could…” you began. “However, that shouldn’t be necessary.” Your chest began to tighten as you spoke. The feeling in your stomach wasn’t new but you hadn’t felt this in a long time. You felt like, no, it wasn’t possible… You felt as if you were flirting with him, and he with you.
“I was going to ask, Lord na-Baron, what is it you would rather be doing that sitting here? It’s a rather improper question, so I bit my tongue.” The truth seemed like the only way out of this trap.
You did not expect his smile to fall completely. Only for the briefest of moments he let his surprise show. He recovered and quipped back at you.
“Quite improper, but my answer would be much more so.” He grinned and leaned back in his chair, feeling he had won this round. A blush ran up your face, evidence of his victory.
After the Duke and his retinue offered the required pleasantries and excused themselves, the guests rose and began to leave the main hall. You stood before Feyd and succeeded in not looking at him as you began to walk away.
As you turned down the passageway, headed to your quarters, you heard heavy footfalls behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and the tightness in your stomach redoubled. There were only a few of the household staff remaining in the halls. You were nearly alone with the na-Baron. Your mind offered, unbidden, the word exhilarating.
His strides were long enough that he caught up with you in little time. His height was impressive after having been sitting next to him. Not much taller than yourself but tall enough to command attention.
“Were you tired of my company?” One corner of his lip curled in a smirk. “Or were you nervous I might answer your impertinent question?”
You stopped walking at this. He turned and looked at you, studying you.
“No, my Lord na-Baron,” you replied levelly. “I could not tell which you enjoyed more: my company or mocking me.”
His smile faltered then grew. You assumed no one ever told him the truth. You knew you could become afraid of him, perhaps should be, but you weren’t yet. Two chattering guests walked past and you moved to the edge of the hallway to let them pass.
Feyd stepped past you and leaned against the wall, his long coat belying the muscular figure underneath. Your breathing became shallow. His proximity to you was informal. It was unnerving. You couldn’t know what he was thinking and his smile was always simultaneously pleasant and malicious.
“Your confusion shows on your face,” he whispered. “What are you trying to discern?”
“Well, um, you, Lord na-Baron,” you dropped your gaze from his. “I do not yet know if I can trust you.”
Feyd dipped his head to meet your eyes and force you to look at him. He was barely smiling at all. His brows furrowed earnestly.
“You can trust me. I am only ever what I seem. I am an open book to any who care to read closely,” he whispered, mere inches from your face. He straightened and your eyes followed his. “Those who see that, don’t often call me ‘na-Baron’ every time they speak. Though I understand the risk one takes with using my name. I am quite…. impulsive.” And that smile again. This time with a touch of fondness in his eyes that suggested he was recalling a pleasant memory. Though you couldn’t imagine that murdering someone for using your given name would be pleasant. From what you knew of Feyd, he probably had done just such a thing.
“How might those who ‘read closely’ decipher your enigmatic smile?” Finding your voice, you spoke directly at him. This made him grin even more, showing his black teeth.
“Perhaps that may always be a game of guessing,” he quipped back. He took a step away from you and waited for you to follow. Your heart was almost pounding in your chest. You walked beside him, but allowing yourself to have some distance to think by staying one step behind. You tried not to stare at the slope of his head down to his neck, his hands, the only visible parts of his body. But they seemed to glow against the black cloth of his coat.
Neither of you spoke for a moment. The silence was tense but not uncomfortable. You weren’t sure you could guess anything about him. Your first appraisal of him may have been entirely incorrect, or mostly.
The main house sprawled, much like a palace though more understated. You knew the halls and passages by heart, but you weren’t guiding Feyd. You followed him without thinking. Your instinct told you to gather yourself and head directly to your chambers without a backward glance. Your curiosity was stronger than your instinct. Curious about him, yes, but also curious as to why he was so interested in you.
Feyd didn’t stop as he opened the door and entered his room. You paused, waiting for an invitation. He held the door and looked at you, no expression on his face. Your choice he seemed to suggest. He didn’t hold out his hand in a welcoming gesture either. You took one more breath to make your decision.
His room was probably a drastic change for him from his home on Giedi Prime. He had been given a guest room fitting of his station. The sumptuous fabrics and ornate furniture were more grand than those in your own quarters. You paused near the middle of the room. If he sat you would join him. He didn’t.
He stepped in front of you, looking, not speaking, and you felt that damnable blush rise to your cheeks again.
“If I may,” he began. “I’ll answer your question.”
You tried to nod but couldn’t. Your mouth was as dry as Arrakis.
“No, I did not want to be trapped at that farce, the quiet tension so palpable one could cut it with a knife. I was thinking of all the things I had in mind for you.” He took a small step forward and tilted your face up to his, fingers guiding your chin. His eyes were fierce and you saw no mocking in his slight smile now.
“Then you were correct, your answer would have been quite improper,” you managed to reply, mustering the last of your propriety.
“Yes,” he drawled. “Yes, then it would have been improper, but we’re alone now.” He swept his hand, indicating the empty room but he didn’t look away from you. He didn’t wait for your to respond. “You aren’t deferential to me like the others in your house. You are… intriguing. As I sat next to you, I decided I wanted you and I get what I want. Always.”
Your body tensed as he leaned forward and kissed you. At first you were rigid, unsure of what you truly wanted, but as one of his hands found the back of your neck you realized you had actually wanted this all along. Still wary of him, you kissed him back but did not move to touch him. His other hand slid to your waist and gripped you firmly, fingers digging into your flesh through your clothing. You exhaled and softened in his arms. You felt his smile against your lips. You assumed it was a triumphant grin but set your pride aside and opened your mouth to him.
Feyd’s tongue slipped into your mouth. His hand gripped the back of your neck harder. You placed your hands on his chest, tentatively, testing this new closeness. He slid his hand from your side to your back and pulled you in closer. You didn’t want the kiss to end but he pulled away and looked at you.
“Was that so bad?” he ask, finally without a grin.
You could only shake your head as your heart thumped in your chest. You moved your hands upward, slowly, to his neck. Using both your hands, you pulled him back down to your mouth. A small groan left his mouth and he pressed his body against yours. You licked his black teeth, growing braver. You still felt hesitant, nervous, even a little frightened. You had experience, you weren’t shy, but those were with people from your home planet. He was a Harkonnen. Completely hairless, scarily pale, and notoriously cruel. Something about the combination of those thoughts made you press against him in return.
His lips left your mouth and he drug them along your jaw, down your neck, the graze of teeth making you shiver. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, resisting the need to move your hips against him. Patience, you thought.
Without warning, Feyd let you go. Suddenly, his arms were gone. Then he spun you around so your back pressed into his chest. He wasn’t going to be patient. He clamped one hand on your throat and rested the other on the lowest part of your stomach. His lips grazed your ear and his breath was hot as he spoke.
“Are you going to give me what I want?”
“Yes,” you replied though you weren’t sure the sound was audible.
“Say my name.”
“Yes, Feyd,” you swallowed, feeling his hand move on your throat as you did. “Anything you want.”
He chuckled at this, the sound vibrating into you from his chest. His grip on your throat wasn’t tight but it held you in place as he slid his hand farther down your stomach. You didn’t let yourself moan as his hand grazed your thigh but you involuntarily moved your hips. You didn’t want him to take his time. Your need was getting the better of you. This seemed to be happening so fast, yet it had truly begun at dinner. Your desire had been growing with every step toward this room.
Feyd kissed just behind your ear, down your neck, as his hand dipped between your thighs. You knew he could feel your arousal even through your clothing. You wanted to push against his hand and gain more friction. He continued to tease, up and down, but then his hand slipped under your clothing. His touch on your bare skin elicited a groan from you. He released your throat and used both hands to free you from the garments.
You were momentarily embarrassed at your sudden nakedness but that was pushed out of your thoughts when he put his mouth on your shoulder blades, kissing each in turn. You began to turn to face him but he stilled you with his hands. You looked over your shoulder as he tossed his coat onto a chair and pulled his shirt over his head. He was actually magnificent you realized. He was hailed as a great fighter but you understood now it was more than skill, it was also strength. You watched him take his place behind you again then turned to face front once more.
You realized Feyd wasn’t just clever, he was always a step ahead of everyone. When you had entered the room you had been so anxious that you only took a cursory glance around the space. However, he had maneuvered you to stand in front of the bed. Now that you saw it, your breath caught in your throat. He was kissing your spine, your ribs, letting his hands explore everywhere but where you needed him. You took a deep breath and instead of the exhale you expected you moaned. He kissed his way up your back and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“I take it you are no longer confused by me?”
“Quite the opposite,” you replied. You moved your hands behind you, finding his hips, and pulled him to you, back to chest again. It was infuriating that he still had his pants on. You slipped your fingertips under the waistband. Even half-clothed his erection was obvious against your backside.
Feyd gently pressed your arms to your sides and you felt immediate disappointment. But then he began to unfasten his pants. The heat from your body flooded to your core. The need, the ache, that had been growing there was now fully aflame. You felt one of his hands rest gently on your hip when he came back to you. Seeming to keep a bit of space between, you he guided your forward until you were only inches from the bed. His hand slid up your side, to your chest encircling you. You sighed again. His mouth explored and made its way back to your ear.
“Lick,” he commanded, holding his other hand in front of your face. It took a moment for you to understand and another moment for you to summon the courage to follow the command. He made you feel things you didn’t know existed. In a spilt second he made you feel like you were doing something wonderful yet illicit. It thrilled you and, as soon as your brain sent the signal, you lapped at his palm. He made a sound like a chuckle, but deeper. You pleased him.
You couldn’t see but you heard Feyd stroke his cock with his recently wetted hand. You whined. Not a moan but an actual, involuntary whine. The waiting was excruciating even if you couldn’t predict his actions, whatever was to come would surely feel amazing.
Feyd’s hand moved from your chest around to your back, rested gently between your shoulder blades, and began to press you forward. With your heart racing you leaned forward, placing your hands on the bed.
“Such a good pet,” he growled. You would have blushed if there had been any blood left in your body. It was currently all pooled in your core, throbbing with that need for him. He slid his hand down your back and gripped your hip. After what seemed like an eternity, you felt his cock between your thighs. You couldn’t control yourself and you pushed back a bit, trying to feel more of him. He gently held you in place. He moved so slowly, teasing you with his length. When he had the angle he wanted he put his hand on your other hip and pressed against you.
It was so slow. Every movement was wonderful torture. You tried not to push against him, so you pressed your face against the bed and groaned. He pulled back and began pressing into you again. You realized he hadn’t yet given you his full length and you gasped as he bottomed out. Over your breathing you heard the most delicious sound come from him. It was a groan, perhaps a word, but certainly a sound of extreme pleasure. Now, you did push back into him.
You looked over your shoulder as you ground your hips slightly and his eyes were open, watching your ass. His eyes were heavy-lidded and his mouth was slightly open. You had never seen anything so beautiful, so unique, in your life. Before you could appreciate him any longer he pulled back, started a new stroke, and caught your eye. He winked at you, cocky yet comforting.
You couldn’t take it, you buried your face in the bed clothes, overcome with desire. This man was your undoing. Just as that thought flickered in your mind Feyd increased his pace. With steady movement he brought forth a litany of noises from you. As he sped up you moaned and pushed back onto him. His low, rumbling groans were intoxicating.
Feyd’s hands roamed up from your hips, over your back, around to your stomach, ceaselessly exploring you. When he leaned forward, pressing his stomach along your back you reached behind you and grasped his arm. Pulling him down on you by his forearm, then traveling up to his bicep. Your fingers dug into his muscle His rested his forehead against your shoulder.
You felt the pressure building in your core from the consistent rhythm. You were lightheaded, dizzy with the feeling of Feyd’s weight on top of you, his scent, his sounds. Then a brightness shot through the fog as he reached around you and stroked the center of your heat. You made an undignified sound.
“Please, yes, there,” you groaned, unable to decide if you wanted to press forward into his hand or back to meet his hips. “Please, Feyd, don’t stop.”
“Of course not,” he replied as he kissed your shoulder and stoked the heat in your belly. He growled against you as he sped up. Pounding into you, his hand between your legs, his body pressed against yours, Feyd dominated all of your senses. You had no thoughts. Only the growing pressure inside you.
“Wait for me,” he said quietly but firmly. You could barely nod, much less speak to answer him, as all your concentration was focused on holding back the cresting wave.
Feyd’s strokes were deep but quick. He grazed his teeth over your skin. His unoccupied hand dug into your hip so he could fuck you that much harder. Then you felt it. The stutter of his hips. His hand between your thighs sped up. A flood of heat ran over your entire body. At the same time, your core seemed to explode. His grunting made you cum that much harder.
He let out a final, deep moan, mingled with your name, and spilled his black seed inside you. You inhaled shakily, smiling to yourself. The lightheadedness was back and you felt emptied, completely hollowed out. You stayed still as he caught his breath. You tried to relax as he pulled out, but were unable to stifle a small gasp. You were ruined but never wanted this to end.
Feyd gently stroked your back and then began to guide you up, almost lifting you from the bed. When you were standing in front of him he kissed you on the forehead, then the lips. With his hand on the small of you back he led you to the side of the bed. He didn’t instruct you to lay down, you didn’t have a choice. There was no way you could remain standing on your shaking legs any longer. He covered you with the blanket then stepped away for a moment. Unable to keep your eyes open you listened for him.
He soon walked to the other side of the bed and slipped into it, pulling you against him. He tucked you as close to him as possible. He kissed your neck. Then nuzzled his face against you before resting his head close enough so you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.
“I always get what I want,” he whispered. Your lips curved into a gentle, satisfied smile.
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moonlightsolo · 1 year
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I send so many requests hahahaa
Feel like it would be SO cute if you’re out in the forest and you find a thanator pup lost and abandoned but it clings on to so you adopt it. Then Neteyam is like how wtf??? But he lets you keep it despite his concerned reaction and it becomes your pet :,)
CUUUUUUTE!!! & i love every request you make pls don’t stop sending them (i promise i’ll get to every one even if i’m slow)
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“c’mon ‘teyam!! let’s go!” you cry out to your boyfriend. his large four-fingered hand is clasped in your two tiny ones as you attempt to tug him forward.
he’s staring down at you with a playful annoyed look, not budging from his spot planted in the dirt.
“pleeeeeeaaaaase! i wanna go see them! we don’t have to get close, i just wanna look! they’re so cute!” your voice whines, which makes his ears flick from the sound.
neteyam grimaces from your squeaky voice and plants a large hand on top of your head, “okay, okay fine. just don’t whine like that again.” he laughs with a shake of his head.
he turns his hand in yours to grasp your tiny fist tightly in his palm to lead you farther into the jungle, “come on, ma yawntutsyìp.”
the little nickname makes your heart warm in your chest. his little loved one.
“thank you! thank you! thank you!” you exclaim excitedly with the biggest grin on your face.
your tall blue boyfriend looks down at you in awe from your excitement. he smiles because he is the one that made you feel this way— he loves when you’re happy.
the tall na’vi boy bends down to your height, allowing you to hop on his back so he could climb the trees without you falling behind. he hops from branch to branch, which makes you squeal out in fear and also from the adrenaline. he’s just so quick, and knows exactly where to grab and plant his feet.
neteyam slows down as he nears a sunny clearing below. he sinks down to his stomach to crawl forward to the edge, his wide eyes darting around to examine the area. his new position lets you slide off of his back onto the branch next to him, to crawl forward and lean over the side too.
your eyes instantly spot a homemade nest in the shadows, big enough for a few thanators to rest in. “where are they?” your voice whispers out to him.
“patience…” he breathes out quietly into the warm air, sending a cheeky smirk your way. you roll your eyes at him, which just makes him smirk more.
how must you be patient when you’ve been waiting all season for this? through the mating season, and through the gestation period, and now finally the calfs are born!
you keep your eyes trained on the sunny patch of grass, looking around the perimeter of trees for the mother thanator; or even any sign of the babies.
you looooove babies— and when they come in cute forms, like little alien creatures from pandora, you somehow love them even more.
rustling to the side makes your eyes dart to the shadows as a large black cat-like figure emerges from the brush. it’s the mother, and she’s dragging food back to her babies.
she drops the meat in the center of the field, before calling out to her babies with a rumbling, clicking noise.
sudden chirps grow louder as a dozen of baby thanators emerge from the nest. yipping, and growling as they feast on the meat of the animal their mother hunted.
neteyam watches you as your face brightens from the sight of the babies you’ve been waiting so long for. you could do without the blood, and the guts, but it’s so fascinating to you.
as a human on a foreign planet, surrounded by the most fascinating flora and creatures, you feel in your element; you belong here.
one at a time, the babies retreat back into the safety of their nest to leave their mother with the leftovers. she quickly eats the rest of the carcass, before crawling into the next with her children. her large head sticks out to patrol the area with her eyes, protectively.
“oh my god, neteyam. that’s so amazing.” you breathe out, almost breathless from the experience. he smiles at you from the side, his hand comes up to rub the top of your head.
sometimes he doesn’t understand why you get so excited over the animals on pandora, but he knows it’s because you didn’t grow up here like him.
“the circle of life can be prrrretty fascinating.” he chuckles, and goes to stand up in the tree. he stays slightly crouched from the branches above his head. his attention is undivided now, only staring at you.
“wanna go back now?” he watches how your shoulders drop slightly, “we can come back— don’t worry.” he adds with a chuckle.
“yeah, we can go.” you sigh in defeat, sliding behind his back to climb onto him, “wanna go find some of your favorite fruit?” neteyam offers as his hands wrap around your thighs, once they wrap around his waist.
he wants to get your mind off of the animals for a little bit, and he knows exactly where the tree is planted in the jungle, “ooh yes!” you exclaim happily with a giant grin.
neteyam grins from your response and takes off in a sprint once he’s sure you’re secured on his back. he leaps between the giant trees, before leaping off of a branch to grab ahold of a vine.
you squeal loudly with barking laughter as it feels as if you’re free falling in the air, until his feet hit the ground. he lets you down easily by swinging you off his back with one hand strongly grasping your behind.
a flush settles on your chest, and heat rises in your chest from his hand on your ass. it isn’t uncommon for him to grab your body, but it always makes you flustered every single time.
neteyam can’t help but swoop down to peck your lips, before standing back up to his full height. his hands grasps yours to lead you through the vegetation. he bends underneath fallen logs while you can continue to stand up straight from your height. it humors you how tall your boyfriend is.
your eyes almost sparkle as you spot the brightly colored tree covered in round pink fruits. the colors are almost flourescent from the sunset growing nearer.
before you could even reach the tree, something to your side rustles in the brush. you and neteyam halt in your spot to try and find where the noise came from.
your body jolts when a soft cry echoes from the bush, and neteyam instinctively slides in front of you for protection.
before you could even try to leave, a small body tumbles from the bush and waddles up to neteyam’s feet.
“what is it?!! what is it?!” you hide your face in his back, covering your face with your hands.
neteyam almost laughs at how ironic this is, “a thanator… a baby.” he coos as he bends down to its level, but the baby lets out a menancing hiss.
“woah, woah.” neteyam backs up slightly, pushing you farther behind him. if the baby would charge at you both, he wouldn’t hesitate to drop kick it into the jungle for your own safety.
“a what?!” you shriek, and push him out of the way to look in front of him. you barely push him though, he honestly just moves out of the way for you.
once you see the sleek black skin of the thanator baby, you instantaneously drop to your knees in front of it. “hi! oh my gosh you’re so cute!” you softly squeal at it.
the baby cowers back toward the bush, it’s little legs shake as it hisses weakly at you. “don’t worry, buddy. i promise i’m not mean. are you hurt?” you ask if it would actually answer you.
neteyam really doesn’t understand how you think the babies are cute, he actually finds them quite terrifying and kind of ugly.
the baby whines as it’s eyes worriedly dart between you and the na’vi boy behind you, “‘teyam, back up!” you hush at him through your teeth.
your boyfriend feels overly protective over you right now, but he obliges and takes a step back. you intently watch how the animal takes a hesitant step toward you, it’s body still trembling in fear.
“it’s okay.” your soft tone soothes the child as it draws closer to you.
neteyam’s hand rests on the handle of his blade, ready to step forward at any given moment if the thing attacks you. his brain clouds with confusion as the predator climbs into your lap and curls up into a ball.
his hand drops from his sheathed knife as his eyes take in what just happened. your small hand gently carressss the top of the baby’s head as it lays in the crook of your legs.
“are you serious?” he mumbles out in shock, but still smiles at the scene in front of him.
“i can’t believe this is happening right now.” you breathe out shakily and look up at neteyam towering over you.
“i cannot explain how confused i am.” he replies, his big round eyes are somehow even wider as he gawks.
a crack of thunder in the sky makes the baby shake even harder, and whine quietly under its heavy breathing. “we have to take it back with us.”
“are you crazy? we can’t do that.” neteyam shakes his head in disagreement. there’s no way his parents would allow him to bring such a predator into the village. he would be lectured for who knows how long.
“well, we can’t just leave it out here by itself!” you retaliate with a stern voice. you know, that you would never be able to live with yourself if you left this poor animal to fend for itself.
“it’s almost as big as you, my love. how will you take care of it?” he points out, which is very true.
“i have to. i won’t be able to live with my decision to leave her out here in the storm by herself…” you trail off as you scratch behind her ears. the animal purrs in your lap, making you grin.
“okay, fine. come on. we gotta get back to camp before the storm hits us.” neteyam sighs as he watches you stand up with the heavy creature in your arms. he can tell you’re struggling a bit, but you still have the biggest smile on your face.
“you alright?” he asks with a little chuckle, and eyes you suspiciously, “yes, i’m good! let’s go!” you chirp and start walking past him, but he stays in his spot and keeps an eye on you.
“my ikran is this way.” neteyam points the opposite way you’re walking, and your cheeks burn with embarrassment. you don’t know what would happen to you if you didn’t have him to be your personal GPS.
“let’s go.” you march past him, with a roar coming from the baby thanator.
neteyam watches you confidently walk forward with a little chuckle, shaking his head at you. he watches your tiny body walk farther away from him, letting his eyes wander over your backside.
he can’t understand how or why the baby thanator attached itself to you, a human, instead of a na’vi. he’s not even sure if a thanator would trust one of his people.
you’ve opened his eyes to entire new world, his own world. he doesn’t understand how you work, but all he knows is that you’re his.
this little human is all his, and somehow you seem as if you’re even more connected to his world than him; and he loves you even more for it.
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thekitsunesiren · 8 months
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Dc x Dp #38
Daniel Fenton is an intern at the Daily Planet. And so far, he's been doing a very good job at gaining stories.
He's quiet, so it's easy for him to sneak away or up on a person. Clark didn't hear him the first time they met and he feared that the kid was trained in someway.
He's also very intimidating. While he seems like a regular teen with his relaxed and joking personality, there's something eerie about him. Having those piercing blue eyes on you could make anyone nervous.
He's also really fast with getting information. Clark knew that one of his first stories was on a man who died in the latest rogue attack for having some sort of ties with a new ring arising. The very next day, he had several pages filled with information that not even Clark could find out.
Daniel Fenton was quickly making his way up in the world of reporting. And many shivered at what kind of problem he could become if teamed up with Lois Lane.
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The way you say my name
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Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x female!Reader
Its pure smut and since its about Feyd, there are some warnings: he is not so gentle. There is desire on both sides and it ends up getting in the praise kink/forced orgasm territory.
Summary: Your planet has brought magic into the galaxy - a source of new spice- and upended the political status quo. You are the sole heiress of your house and the emperor decided that the best way to protect your family's survival is to betroth you to the most enigmatic but violent fighter in the known universe: Na Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, dangerously seductive and very intrigued by you …
2.203 words
one shot ( for now)
_________
Your whole body was tense, filled with anticipation and nervousness. You noticed your fingers were unconsciously playing with your belt again, and with effort you made yourself refrain from doing so. It was not your first time in the Emperor's court, nor was it your first state reception. Still, it was the first time you had set foot on Kaitain since the new spice was discovered on your planet. Something that had been considered impossible for millennia and that would shake the existing power structures in the Landsraat and the entire known universe. From an insignificant house on a planet beyond Orion, blessed with centuries of stability because of it, your family has been catapulted into a position of a central political player. Your fate, albeit a small piece of a power play against the backdrop the these developments. "Our task is greater than ourselves. Our fears, smaller." The mantra that helped you hold a steady course. You relax your shoulders and notice how your back straightens. 
At that moment, a festively dressed servant entered the room to announce Baron Vladimir Harkonnen and his nephews arrival. Even though you had been prepared for this encounter, the sight was a shock to her. At the first glance he is less imposing then Rabban, who moved into the room like a mountain of muscle and leather uniform. But there is a slow and steady menace in the way he carries himself. His demeanor, both elegant and commanding, reminded you of a marble statue brought to life; his skin almost seemed to illuminate the room, a contrast stark against the dim flicker of torches.
If he had eyebrows, he would certainly have raised one a little crookedly by now. But as it was, his ice-blue eyes suddenly started at you, and you sensed a hardness in his entire demeanor that you weren't used to at home and whose traces you might have felt in her upbringing with Bene Gesserit, but which had always been wrapped in a velvet glove. But power, violence and strength were clear to see in this man. The reason why the Emperor wants to make him your husband - the only one who can apparently guarantee the safety of your planet. He was not used to having to hide his true character. And that is exactly what you would make his downfall.
The formalities dragged on endlessly, time seems to slow down under his gaze. He cannot comprehend you, the strangeness of your features, the luxuriant curls of your hair falling over your shoulders in an elegant half updo, the waves of burgundy silk of your cloak adorning your shoulders, your dress of the same silk and lace - how can anyone appear so vulnerable and exposed? Especially one who holds the key to the most coveted of secrets - a new spice, as powerful as the one exported from Arrakis, but with fewer dangers, Fremen rebellions and more sustainable methods of harvesting. Only this thin fabric separates you from him, something his knife could shred in seconds. He notices that your eyes have left his and are now focused on his hand, gripping the blade at his waist so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He unclenches his hand and offers it to you, bowing slightly. 
"My lady, would you allow me to escort you?"
You place your hand on his and he almost jerks back, surprised by its warmth.
"A mere twist of nature, I tend to forget how shocking it must be to someone not from my home. Our temperature has evolved to be slightly higher than the average, so that when the temperature drops at night, we never fall below a certain threshold".
He listens to you as you walk down the hall towards the banquet room, taking in your voice, the slight swish of your gown on the floor, the click of the delicate gold chains around your neck disappearing into the modest cut of your dress. 
His thoughts oscillate between genuine intrigue with you and your planet, both of which he will soon call his, and a burning desire to test your seemingly obvious fragility, to see how many times he can take you before you beg for mercy, how many bites into your skin will make you whimper, how many slaps on your ass will bring you to your knees regretting whatever misdeed you may have done. You can see his hunger, thinly veiled by manners, and you are sure that he is not accusing you in front of everyone for being in the Emperor's house and not on Giedi Prime. He seems so lost in thought that you have to repeat your question.
"Are you all right, Na Baron? Is something wrong? My conversational skills must be truly dull to bore you so".
He seems to come back to the present, his eyes resting on yours again, the colour of pure blue, like a deep frozen mountain lake. You look down, and just as he finds his voice, the Emperor rises to end the banquet.
"Then I shall bid you good night. If you wish, join me in the botanical garden tomorrow before noon. Perhaps my conversation skills will have improved by then".
He nods and stands to pull out your chair, taking the opportunity to let his fingers slide down your spine through your dress as he moves the chair to the side. He will join you tomorrow alright.
_____
The sun flickers through the canopy of trees above you, leaving a mosaic of shadows on the small, flat cobblestones of the path. You have your hair in a braid that sits like a halo around your head, your arms bare in the sun, dressed in a light linen top and form-fitting trousers that allow for more movement as you tend to the plants. The small patch in front of you is half empty, with small plants dug up. Their purple roots are gnarled and wobbly, while the vines are the darkest shade of green. A tiny bead of sweat clings to your eyebrow, and you pull off your glove to remove it. 
"Is this how my intended likes to spend her time?" His voice behind you, rough and deep. You are startled and drop the glove. He picks it up and holds it out to you, looking straight into your eyes again.
"Thank you. Sometimes I do," you give him an open smile and take the glove back from him, he holds it for a second longer than necessary, seemingly puzzled by your open expression once again. "These plants are from my home, the Emperor tries his best to cultivate them here, but we cannot figure out why they do not develop as they should," you look up at him, his gaze still unmoved from your face.
"Am I boring you again, Na Baron?"
"Not at all," his tongue moves over his lush lips, brushing his cupid's bow.
"Well then, these tiny plants are one of the main factors in the production of the new spice. Their sap is..." You take a small knife from the box beside you and just as you cut into one of the roots, your hand slips and a red streak of blood appears on your left hand. In an instant, a small trail of red drips down your palm and onto the light stones at your feet.
His eye darkens as he grabs your post, ignoring the plant in the flower bed, and brings the injured hand to his lips. A shower passes through you, his tongue brushing your skin, electrifying.
"You should be more careful, my lady." 
His voice almost a growl, his soft and plush lips sucking lightly at your skin, leaving a red mark around them. 
"Yes, I should, Feyd," you are not sure if calling him by his name was a familiarity you allowed yourself too soon, but his reaction proves you wrong. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his face inches from yours. You feel your breath mix, his scent sweet and musky around you.
"Say my name again" There is no politeness to hide his hunger now.
"Feyd..." An almost unbearable exhalation is all you can manage. And with that, he closes the gap between you and descends on your lips, devouring you. His kiss tastes slightly metallic as you taste your blood on his lips, his tongue touching your teeth, demanding entry. You give in, melting into his ministrations, your hands unable to stay still, reaching for his neck, nails digging into the porcelain skin, he almost Monas into the kiss, his hands clawing at your bottom, gripping the flesh in an iron grip. You make a small sound that seems to be all he has been waiting for. Leaving your swollen lips, his attack continues in your jaw and neck, leaving small marks. You feel his arrousal pressing against you and your right hand lets go of his throat and slides over the leather in a rhythmic motion. Before you can think how you can take so much, his size is obvious even fully clothed, he grabs the knife from before and cuts open your top, not bothering with the buttons, leaving your chest exposed to him. His mouth travels to your nipples, his tongue dancing around them before his mouth closes on them and his other hands pinch the other hard. You moan, the pain delicious and unexpected, making you arch even more towards him. He unties the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare to him. A drop of your wetness makes its way from your core along your inner thigh as you melt in his arms. His hand wanders deeper along your hipbones and thighs and as he catches the drop his predatory smile becomes a grin. 
„My lady seems to be enjoying herself... Kneel down".
You obey, the hard floor hurting your knees almost immediately. He pulls his swollen cock out of his trousers and strokes the head along your lips. You open your mouth and begin to lick his shaft with broad strokes, sucking the tip in and letting it fall from your mouth with a wet plop. He watches your every move and pushes a lock of hair that has come loose from your braid out of your face.
"Yes, that's a good girl, keep going."
Spurred on by the praise, you redouble your efforts, disregarding the discomfort of kneeling on the pavement and look up at him to find him completely mesmerised. He cannot believe how willingly you give yourself to him, without reservation. He feels as if he has found something sacred, something so precious and wild that he cannot imagine ever getting enough of it. He steadies your neck and finds his own rhythm, fucking your throat hard, the gurgling sound coming from you like music to his ears, you are struggling for air but he is relentless, filling you with his cum until you swallow every last drop. Your eyes almost in tears, you try to catch your breath, but Feyd has other plans as he helps you to your feet and lays you down on the patch of fresh earth. He spreads your legs and caresses your core. The pain seems to dissolve into a sea of pleasure, leaving you disoriented and greedy, your hands pressing the back of his head into your cunt. He moans in approval, sending more delicious vibrations through your cleat and as his tongue fins you entrance, you lose yourself in the orgasm, chanting his name with more earnestness than any prayer that was ever to leave your lips. 
He looks up at you and just when you think you are going to get a break from his ministrations, he pauses only to strip, his leather overalls falling to the floor and revealing his muscles. He grasps your hips and you spread your legs even wider, giving him an unobstructed view of you and your pulsating cunt.
"So ready to take me, my lady, so ready for my cock to fill you," he smiles, aligning himself with your entrance and thrusting in at once. His cock, thick and throbbing, disappears inside you as you continue to chant his name. He rams into you with abandon, his head touching your wall as his hands wander from your hips to your breasts, kneading them, whipping you into the frenzy of the second high, spasming even harder around his cock. 
"I think you can come again for me, my Na Baroness," he whispers in your ear as he lowers himself over you, one hand loving your breasts to study himself on the floor, the fingers of the other circling your clit. You moan, overstimulated and hot, writhing under his touch.
"I know you can do it," he continues, not slowing down, and he is right as you cum again, this time sending him over the edge, his movements becoming ragged as his seed fills you. As your both breathing calms, you look into his eyes again and you know he is a goner, lost to the magic of your touch and how your desires dance together.
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nouearth · 9 months
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blue current.
clark kent x male reader headcanons.
warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.
a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!
gif credits to: fukutomichi!
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—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.
—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.
—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.
—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.
—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.
—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.
—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.
—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...
—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.
—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!
—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.
—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.
—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.
—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"
—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.
—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.
—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.
—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.
—unless it was with you.
—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.
—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.
—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.
—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.
—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.
—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.
—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.
—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.
—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.
—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."
—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.
—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.
—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.
—"what's wrong?"
—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.
—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.
—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"
—then another squeeze.
—"there's something..."
—and another.
—"i gotta tell you..."
—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.
—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.
—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.
—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.
—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.
—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.
—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.
—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.
—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.
—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.
—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.
—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.
—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.
—"(m/n)..."
—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.
—"i really like you."
—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.
—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.
—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.
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© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!
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ao3-anonymous · 1 year
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Fastest Growing Fandoms on AO3 This Week (05/29/2023)
Every week I pull data on how many fics are in each fandom and compare to the previous week, then calculate the percentage increase to determine fastest growing fandoms.  Since this naturally skews towards smaller fandoms, I have included the same data filtered to Over 1k, 5k, & 10k fics.
Overall:
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Over 1,000 Fics:
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Over 5,000 Fics:
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Over 10,000 Fics:
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Source: AO3 Fandom Dashboard
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chaosandmarigolds · 1 month
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Festival
based on this AMAZING ask!!
“Oi, Olls,” Simon looks down at the skinned arm and then back to the utterly unaffected five-year-old (who just took a rather nasty tumble off the slide). It was an easy back day at the county fair, which for the record he thought was a horrible idea with a five-month old yet Johnny said it would be fun for Oliver and his niece, Jane. Simon tried to get a good look at the wound, covered in dirt and pebbles, “Lad lemme-”
“Dad-dad, I got go- Janie! Wait up!” Oliver snipped in reply, pulling his arm away and trying to take off after his new friend, and he succeeded, taking off to the next ride wait line- where Jane was already standing among the groups of children and teens with the bright red balloon tied to her wrist. 
Of course, he watched the boy run through the crowds and only stood to direct his gaze to Johnny as he stood up, not saying anything but trying to see past the groups to get a good look at the kids- but he could see the red balloon. 
“Think the girls are havin fun?” Johnny asked, leaning onto the stroller. 
To that Simon shrugged looking down to Tess, who was thankfully very much asleep amidst the loud noises, “‘m sure they are.” 
“Shoppin, wine tasting annnn,” Johnny faltered as he thought, looking to the sky as Simon knelt down to fix the baby blanket. Though it was loud and the crowds were bustling it still had a sense of peace about it, small town, small fair but it was enough to make the two kids feel as if they were teleported to the best place on the planet. “An’- gah, Sarah said somethin else, can’t ‘member what though.” 
“Jus gettin dolled up or somethin,” Simon mumbled under his breath and then placed a chaste kiss against the baby’s forehead before standing up to his full height, looking around for the same bright red balloon. 
Only…the balloon was floating away. 
It took about five strides to get from where he had been to the line where Olly and Jane were supposed to be, yet there was a stunning lack of them both. 
He must have called the kid's names twice before Johnny had caught on to what was going on, yet the only thing Simon could think of doing was telling him to go get security, he asked the people if they had seen them- his voice harsh and causing the looks on the parent's face’s to pale. 
He couldn’t find them. 
No one seemed to even see them. 
“A little boy- he’s missin his front tooth, striped shirt with a dinosaur on it.”
   “I’m sorry man, that sounds like every kid I’ve seen today.” 
… 
“Jane,” Ollie said slowly following his friend reluctantly through the corridors of the ‘haunted house’ which they had snuck in through the back, since there was a thirteen-plus age restriction on the attraction, “Janie I reaaaalllly don’t think this is good idea.” 
To that the four-year-old frowns, her pigtails swinging as she looks at him, the blue light and fog doing nothing to ease his fears, “Uncle Johnny always say we got face fears! An you said you are scared of the scary ghosts.”
“Scary is literally in name, Janie!” Ollie countered crossing his arms, “Uncle Johnny and my dad are gonna be mad.” 
Jane shook her head, clawing up on the ladder to reach the main level, “Uncle Johnny doesn’t get mad at me, mum said it’s cus ‘m cute…Uncle Simon might get mad though.” 
Ollie frowned from his spot, looking up at her as she began to disappear from the view, he couldn’t leave her alone, he was older than her and his dad did ask him to look over her. So, he swallowed down his fear and followed behind her, the steam and fog making it a bit hard to see for a moment before he was able to stand up again- the lights dim and red and the floor underneath them seemed to be uneasy, red liquid smeared along the rotted wood and the low groan of something was enough to make him want to cry. 
However Janie was walking forward, so he quickly followed, moving to walk just a bit in front of her- grabbing her hand and doing his best to act brave when in reality he was not. 
Ollie stopped walking when they heard a voice from behind, and he turned to look around for a split second, only for Jane to let out a shrill scream and he turned his head to look ahead again- to only mimic her scream. Shoving her behind himself as what seemed to be a literal monster jumped from behind a barrel. 
“Oh SHIT! CUT IT!!” 
A voice suddenly yelled, and then the monster ripped off the mask, revealing a normal-looking kid, probably sixteen, “Whoa-hey-hey, you guys- JERRY FUCKIN CUT THE LIGHTS.” The kid screamed at the ceiling for a moment for the overhead lights to flicker back on and the noises stopped. 
“Hey,” The kid knelt down to look at the now sobbing children, “Hey, my name is Kyle. How’d ya-oh cmon…it’s okay, I’m not scary.” 
“You-you ghost!” Ollie screamed. 
“No! No, it’s just a costume, ya know on how on halloween you dress up? I’m jus dressing up, I’m not gonna-oh okay, you’re crying…again, okay…” Kyle tried to explain, then looking to his coworker, Margo who was dressed as a zombie, utterly hopeless about the now two screaming and sobbing toddlers.
“Called security,” Margo huffs out as she sits down to look at the toddlers, who were much more relaxed once they offered slushies, and she looks to Kyle, “They said two creepy guys said they lost their kids but thought they were lyin.” 
Kyle frowns and leans back in his chair after he and Margo had made a lazy attempt at cleaning off their makeup and explained to the kids it seemed to calm them down, plus the slushies of course. “Hey kiddo, can you tell me your name? So the nice people-
“My dad says to not talk to strangers.” 
Margo gives the kid a look and leans forward on the table, “He’s smart, that’s smart- but we need to-” 
“Margo-” 
“OLIVER.” 
It would be an understatement to say Kyle and Margo picked those kids up within a millisecond, because what they saw were two men that could break them both in half within a second and who did not look like father material walking towards them. 
“That’s my kid.” One of them barked out, pointing to the little boy, who was just happily sipping his slushy. 
Kyle scoffs, “And I’m the fucking king of England.”
To that Margo tried to then play damage control, “Listen, I don’t want to have to call sec-” 
“Uncle Johnny we saw scary ghost!!” The little girl exclaimed happily. 
“See? That’s my niece and the boys mine. Give me my kid.”
Margo and Kyle exchanged looks and then looked to the little boy, who only caught on when he saw the man’s look and he nodded eagerly, messy hair falling in front of his face. 
“That’s Ister Riley he and my mom are married. He’s my dad.”
… 
“I jus wanna be brave ‘ike you Uncle Johnny,” Jane said as they drove home, still sipping her oversized slushie. 
Johnny and Simon had agreed to not mention this, to act like it never happened, for their sake. “I know, princess, an’ yer so so brave.” 
“I no longer scared of ghosts.” Ollie said mindlessly, staring out the window. 
That caught Simon’s attention and he looked back through the rearview mirror, checking on Tess with a quick glance and then to Olliver, “Oi? Yeah?”
“Mmmhm, cause ghosts are jus nice people wearin costumes.”
(annnnyway that's it!! feedback and comments are the easiest way to let me know you liked my work!! thanks to everyone for their support!)
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goldengalore · 2 months
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Ready
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An anxious!reader fic.
Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: angst, smut
A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)
***
Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.
As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.
And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.
On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.
Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.
And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.
And then Harry came along.
Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.
That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”
“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”
“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”
She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.
“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.
“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”
“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”
In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.
Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.
While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.
She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.
“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.
Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”
His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”
“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”
He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.
“H, I’m ready to do this.”
“Really?”
She smiles. “Yes.”
“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
“Yes, please.”
Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.
Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.
“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”
She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.
Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.
He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”
Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.
“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.
Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.
Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”
She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.
“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”
“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.
“What are you talking about?”
She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.
“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”
His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”
“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.
“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”
“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”
“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”
She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”
He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”
She turns away from him and gets off the bed.
“Y/N.”
She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.
But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Y/N? Can I come in?”
A few moments later, he knocks again.
“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”
Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.
They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”
She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.
When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.
***
Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊
H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning
Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow
H: Sure, thanks
Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.
After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.
At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.
She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.
“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”
“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.
“How come?”
“I can’t stop thinking.”
“About…?”
She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”
He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”
“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”
His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?
“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”
“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”
He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”
Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.
“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”
He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.
“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”
“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”
She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”
“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.
“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.
She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.
“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”
“It’s okay.”
“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.
She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”
***
Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST
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Note
Could you do one where the reader had been in a relationship with Hunter before being taken with Omega on Tantiss. Now that they're reunited, Hunter realizes that he wants to marry the reader?
With a little bit of Wrecker and Crosshair friendly teasing Hunter.
Marry Me?
Hunter x Reader
Summary- After an insufferable separation from you, Hunter realizes his true feelings. That he never wants to be apart from you- that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.
Part two right here!
A/N- SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 OF THE BAD BATCH!!!! You have been warned! Thank you so much for requesting babes! Hope you like it! <3 <3
Word Count- 1,755
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Beautiful Screen Shot by @isthereanechoinhere96
"Omega... It's- It's been months. We don't even know if they're still aliv-"
You felt shame rise up in your chest when you agreed with Crosshair. He was right, time had gone by slowly and there was no way of knowing if Hunter and Wrecker were alive. Your sweet sweet Hunter. The man who only showed he heart for the people he deeply loved. You were lucky to be one of them.
"They'll be there." Omega stated. She was so sure... but all you could think about were the doubts. Omega was always able to be more trusting and optimistic than you. Constant fear of losing your family limited you severely.
You swallowed deeply and looked down to Omega, pushing your anxieties down. "They will be." Were you trying to convince Crosshair or yourself?
The next few minutes of hyper-space felt like days. You were so eager. Everything was either going to get a million times worse, or a million times better.
Omega guided the ship to a remote planet you had never heard of, a deep blue over taking you.
Picking at your nails nervously, you stood- ready to depart. Crosshair noticed this and eyed you. He was nervous as well, but for different reasons.
You almost sobbed when you saw the Marauder in the distance. Hope bubbled in your chest, all thoughts of doubt escaped you.
The second the door lowered with a steam, Omega ran out of the ship. You followed her quickly behind.
She stopped at the mid-point between the ships. Wrecker slowly exited the Marauder, "Now there's a sight!"
You laughed, the tension dissipated. Omega ran to him and Wrecker picked her up, spinning around. "Wrecker!" She responded.
The sight made tears of joy fall. To see Omega so happy was enough for you.
"And I wasn't even sure your message was real!" Wrecker half-joked, still holding Omega up.
"Wrecker, I knew you'd show up!" Her words made your ears ring, did Hunter show up? Well, of course he did! That would be dumb for him to leave Wrecker... Unless, unless he wasn't alive to leave.
Your brain ran wild, why hadn't Hunter come out yet? It was almost as if Wrecker read your mind, he rested a hand on your shoulder after lowering Omega.
Just then, another set of footsteps came out. Hunter skipped steps to get to you and Omega.
Your hands shot up to cover your gasp, tears falling fast now. Omega got to Hunter first- you knew she needed it more.
He crouched down and hugged Omega deeply, his words drowned out. What you did make out was him saying your name, an arm stretched out for you and an arm holding Omega tightly.
You met him as fast as your feet would let you. "Hunter..." You whispered, face immediately meeting his neck as he pulled you close.
His arm pulled you in, crushing you against him in a pleasant way.
He pulled back to pepper your face with kisses, then a deep one on the lips. A few of your tears dripped onto his face, mixing with his own.
Omega giggled and pulled on your arm, you pulled back to let her back in on the hug. All three of you were lifted when Wreckers arms grasped around the bunch of you.
Wrecker pulled everyone up, making the embrace tighter. It was like your perfect little family was back again.
That night, after abandoning the empire's ship, was filled with more hugs, catching up, tears, and awkward conversations with Crosshair. You couldn't have wished for anything better. Your family, all in one place. Save for Echo, but you learnt he was safe with Rex- that made you smile.
You helped Omega settle into her room. You noticed too many yawns and drifting off, she was worn out emotionally and physically.
You spoke with her softly, reminding her everyone would still be here in the morning. Picking up Lula, her doll, and tucking it under her arm gave out the last yawn.
"Can I talk to Hunter?" She questioned with big eyes.
"Of course, baby. I'll be right back" You pet her hair back and left to go retrieve him.
You stopped when you saw him, Crosshair, and Wrecker whispering in the cock-pit.
"Ahaha! Be a man, just ask!" Wrecker said as he patted Hunters back harshly. Ask who? What would he have to 'be a man' about?
"If you say it any louder he won't have to..." Crosshair remarked.
"Oh! Sooorry." Wrecker dragged out.
"Both of you hush, I'll do it when I feel the time is right." Hunter spoke, his husky voice immediately filling you with warmth.
"You got this!" Wrecker exclaimed again, this time he earned a "Shhh!" from both Hunter and Crosshair.
You slowly entered the cock-pit, this time making your appearance known.
"Oh! Hello!" Wrecker greeted loudly, signalling to Hunter you were in the room. Hunter just sighed and shook his head.
You were curious about the conversation, but thought it might not be any of your business.
Smiling, you started, "Omega wants you to finish putting her to bed, Hunter." The way his face lit up had you star-struck. Almost like he couldn't believe she wanted him. "Thank you."
He nodded and headed her way, a hand cupping and maneuvering around your waist as he passed you. His subtle but frequent small touches warmed your heart.
You took a seat in the co-pilot chair, swiveling to look at Crosshair and Wrecker. Both looked down at you with crossed arms and smug looks.
"What?" You wondered if there was something on your face, or if you just took someones spot.
"Nooothing, we will be heading off to sleep now. RIGHT Crosshair?" Wrecker spoke in a suspicious voice, elbowing him in the side. Crosshiar grunted but agreed, leaving you alone.
Weird.
But then again, nothing was normal on this ship.
You took this time to lean back and take a few minutes of rest alone. It was nice being able to relax by yourself, knowing everyone was safe.
After a handful of minutes, Hunter made his way back from Omega. He took the seat next to yours, turning to face you.
"How are you doing?" You asked, sparking conversation.
"Fine, I'm just happy you guys are here... I keep thinking i'm going to blink and you'll both be gone..." His words shook at the end. You sat up, understanding the seriousness of the conversation.
"Hunter, Omega and I are alive and safe. We are here and we are not going anywhere." You rose and stood between his legs, hands cupping his face.
He looked up at you, tears filling his eyes slowly.
"What if I can't protect you two again?" He brought up a hand to rest at your hip, the other on his leg.
You rested your forehead against his, "That was a freak accident, baby. No one could have stopped that. Now we have Crosshair, Batcher, and we are ready for anything. We will keep Omega from the Empire. I promise."
He took a deep breath in, like he had just decided something.
He started by saying your name, "You always know just what to say. I wish I had that ability..." He closed his eyes and breathed you in for a moment, then he spoke again. "When... When we were apart I was so lost."
"I kno-"
"No, I don't think you understand. I couldn't think of anything but you and Omega. I was so broken without you." He repeated your name.
"I-I never want you to be away from me again." His voice got huskier as he spoke, and your legs felt like jello. You just looked at him deeply, nodding.
He started for a second time with a shaky breath, "No one can take you from me again. I will claw my way back to you every damn time." He nods his head up, brushing his nose to the side of your cheek with closed eyes.
You let him speak, even when your mind was flowing with your own comments, "It- The distance, made me realize. There is no one that can compare to you. No other woman I would ever want to be with."
Ah, so that is what they were talking about. You smiled big, awaiting the special phrase.
Tears filled your eyes with his words, he was speaking as raw as he was capable of.
"I can't promise you money or luxury, but I will spend every waking hour fighting to make you happy. Fighting to keep you safe." He pulls back, steadying you with both hands on your hips.
You take in a teary breath to speak, but he cuts you off. "Don't say anything yet, just- Wait here, just a second." He stands, reaching to Crosshair's old storage compartment.
He rushes back with a small box. You raise your hands to cup your own face, bright red. He lowered onto one knee, right in the middle of the cock-pit
"Please, for my own sanity and happiness, will you marry me?" He asks.
"Yes. Yes Hunter, there are no other words than yes." You fall down onto him, arms grasping around his neck.
He lets out a sigh of relief like you'd ever say 'no.'
"Thank you, oh thank you." He whispers into your neck, holding you tight. He only pulls back slightly to kiss you. A kiss so deep and full of emotions your head spun. You just held him, never wanting to let go.
It felt like time stopped, just for you two. Just for a clone trooper and a small girl...
"I never planned on you..." He broke the silence, head placed on top of yours. "But I- you were so damn perfect. Too perfect." You gave a small laugh, looking up to see his handsome face.
You rested a hand on his tattoo, thumbing it. "Hunter, if anyone is perfect it's you. You have so much love for me and Omega... How do you do it?"
"I manage." He smirked, leaning down to smell your hair. Something he used to do frequently when you snuggled in the past.
"Am I now Mrs. Hunter? Or is it Mrs. Trooper?" You joked, pulling back to sit fully on the ship floor. Your hands still filled with his much larger ones.
He smiled at you, another reminder on why he loved you so much. "We can figure out all the fine details later... Just let me kiss you again..."
So, you did.
A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I loved writing this one, I hope it turned out as good as I thought! Sorry It took me longer to post than usual, I was pretty busy this past week. As always, i'm open to constructive criticism!
Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss
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figonas · 1 year
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I’m sorry but you all aren’t listening, lyctorhood itself is not the “indelible sin” and you can pry this theory from my cold dead hands, honestly, maybe not even then. TazMuir herself could not dissuade me until she explicitly tells me otherwise. My proof for this you ask? Pyrrha’s conversation with Varun in NtN chapter 9.
But let’s backtrack for a second. John has stated that the resurrection beasts are after him and the lyctors for committing the indelible sin of lyctorhood, and as such the lyctors can never return to the Dominican System for fear of drawing the RBs back to the Nine Houses. I’ve never believed this was true given the fact that John is always the greatest common denominator when it comes to the presence of an RB and there’s no mention of an RB going after a lone lyctor. Sure, lyctors have been killed fighting resurrection beasts but there’s a huge difference between being caught in the crossfire and starting a firefight. For me, Nona the Ninth only reinforced that what we’ve been told is the “indelible sin” is either John misunderstanding the RBs (doubtful) or lying for his own purposes (more likely).
In chapter 9 of NtN, Nona recounts the story of her disastrous beach trip and towards the end of this recitation Nona says that Pyrrha;
“…crossed to the taped-up window, bottle and glass in hand. To Nona’s awe, she twitched the blackout curtains aside—stood bathed in the hyper-blue light from the sky as Nona held her breath—and she said to the window, “Here’s to Camilla Hect, yet another of devotion’s casualties,” and knocked back the glass. Then she said to the light, quite gently, “No, I don’t blame you, man … He was always looking for things to throw himself on.”
Pyrrha stands in front of Nona, bathed in the light of Varun the Eater, and proceeds to have a conversation with it. We only get one side but based on the context of the last line, “No, I don’t blame you, man … He was always looking for things to throw himself on.” Varun seemingly apologizes to Pyrrha for killing G1deon. It’s proven later on in the book that Varun can speak to Nona, and while it could be argued that since G1deon is dead and his soul is gone the “indelible sin” has been undone this still begs the question; why would the punisher apologize to the sinner?
If Varun and the other RBs are hunting the lyctors to dole out justice for their sins why would they apologize for doing the very thing they sought to do unless that wasn’t their true intent. The “indelible sin” is not the consumption of another soul, it is the consumption of a specific soul. It is John taking Alecto into himself, not being able to house all of her and instead making an exchange. Housing a piece of her in him, and a piece of him in her. Splintering the soul of a great and terrible force into manageable parts. Which explains Varun’s ominous presence hanging over the planet in the first place.
If RBs are hunting Lyctors there are no lyctors on this planet. Palamedes has not consumed Camilla’s soul, G1deon is gone, Harrow is in the River, Gideon is thumbtacked to her dead body, the only soul of any significance to Varun is Nona. Later on in chapter 13 Varun, by way of Judith, says to Nona;
“…what they did to you and what they wrung from you and what shape they made you fill—we see you still—we seek you still—we murdered—we who murder—you inadvertent tool—you misused green thing—come back to us—take vengeance for us—we saw you—we see you—I see you.”
And in chapter 27,
“….what did he do to you, to make you this way.”
What did HE do to you!!! what did HE do to YOU!! To give John credit he doesn’t deserve he may not realize it himself but the RBs have been looking for Alecto this whole time. They don’t want the lyctors, they want what John stole, they want the piece of Alecto inside of him. Want to make her whole again, their misused green thing. She’s almost there. She has her piece back from harrow’s body, united with the piece of her hidden in the locked tomb. She only has 1 piece left to collect. And god knows what will happen when the green and breathing thing is whole once again.
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