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nouearth · 10 months

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servicing justice: superman [1]

pairing ; kal-el / clark kent / superman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 2144. series ; servicing justice. genre ; smut. rating ; m. warnings ; bigdick!superman. blowjob. gloryhole. handjob. mouth-fucking. oral (reader giving). sexworker!reader. note ; yeah, okay. maybe i've been watching too much of a certain video genre, ahem. but i hope you guys enjoy my first smut! it's been a WHILE since i've written one, so i know it's rusty, HAHA. looks-wise, i mostly had maws's superman in mind (because the art style is so good and so himbo), but feel free to imagine it with any superman!

it isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. you’ve been kneeling on the floor for quite some time now, waiting for your assigned client. your palms begin to sweat to a minimal but uncomfortable degree. did i fuck up already? you ask yourself as your mind clouds with questions, doubts, and even judgement regarding this new job.

“jesus, what did i get myself into…” you recall the long process it took for you to end up here. the intensive (and ridiculously long) process of reading and signing multiple forms and documents almost had you backing out of this opportunity. though looking back at it, it was understandable since it’s quite unheard of to be… a sex worker for superheroes.

for an incredible pay, your privacy will essentially be stripped away starting from today. all phone messages, calls, and social media activities will be monitored during your venture as a sex worker, and that post-graduate life was not going to pay itself. for the most part, so far everything seemed… great? being driven to work by a chauffeur, having your own personal room and health coverage provided, and most importantly… eating free lunch was not bad at all.

or maybe you’re just naïve.

all you had to do was kneel and suck a few superhumans off. as the newbie, you were told that you’ll be starting on gloryhole duty due to privacy reasons; at least until you built enough camaraderie. though, you didn’t even mind since there would certainly be less strain on your body.

you couldn’t help but snicker at the mere thought of an entire league of superheroes holding a meeting regarding this subject matter. especially since almost everyone in the world, including you, holds these superheroes in such high regard.

“meeting is adjourned until 9 am tomorrow! until then, please help yourself to some delicious food trucks from outer spac-“ your humorous imitation of a noble superhero is silenced when you hear the door opening. within your private booth, all that blocks you from meeting your approaching client is another door with a hole cut through.

your curiosity is piqued when you catch a sight of the man’s physique through the hole. plaid shirt and jeans aside, and assuming he had to underdress, he’s huge. maybe because you’re kneeling right now, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been near a superhero before, but you couldn’t help but be in awe at the size of the man. your eyes complete a full body scan by the time he approaches the door and before you could say something, he does.

“sorry i was late-“ a gentle voice echoes behind the door. contrary to his soft voice, the man’s large hands work aggressively at his belt, unlooping the leather with impatience yet eagerness as he anticipates the mouth that’s been waiting for his arrival. “there was this whole thing with this cat in this tree and then this school bus got hijacked- not my best day, unfortunately.”

“i’m sorry to hear that. sounds like a stressful day, yeah?” your voice is compassionate. you felt bad for the unnamed superhero and a part of you wanted to continue the conversation further, but your job isn’t to listen to their feelings. it’s to pleasure.

“yeah…” a huge sigh of relief expels from the man’s dry throat when he pulls his pants down. frustration stains another one of your client’s sigh, clearly troubled by the restrictive fabric guarding his erection. you watch with parted lips as he couldn’t help but give himself a needy stroke through his tight briefs, fondling his balls then beelining his palm to the very plump tip of his cock. your own cock hardens at this scene, and you find yourself doing the very same. mimicking his impatient hand to tend to the sensitive pressure below, you tiptoe the fine line between frustration and pleasure as your tightening pants and briefs define what it means to be an absolute nuisance. “very stressful.”

it doesn’t take much time before you’re faceful of cock and somehow, you manage to salivate more than you did a minute ago. the man’s throbbing erection is brimmed with thick pre-cum, stress practically leaving his body with every drip. it’s a heavenly sight that’s enough to make you stick your tongue out just in time to catch the substance into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. the salty taste always catches you off-guard yet at the same time, it puts you under a spell. a tantalizing spell that commands you to drag your warm tongue over and back the underside of his thick shaft, completely avoiding the plump glans to have his cock leak even more… stress.

the taste of his musk drives your palm further into your erection, palming at whatever you could as you preoccupy yourself with teasing the man. you almost felt bad for him. contrary to his build, his whimpers are… so small, so weak. you notice his hands grip over the top of the barrier, and it turns you on upon realizing how this supposed hero could become so fragile at the simple taunt of your tongue.

“please…” the superhero whimpers out, needlessly fucking the air in hopes of granting his cock some type of friction. you’re amazed, and a little proud, by how much pre-cum he’s been leaking by now, and it all goes right onto your tongue. the wet muscle follows the natural curve of his cock to meet up with the wet and plump head. his hips buckle into the barrier and feeling it shake, you keep him steady by wrapping your hand around his shaft. you’re addicted at this point. addicted to the salty taste of his pre-cum as your tongue licks and explores into the slit of his cock, while at the same time, your hand works at his large cock in slow, but steady strokes.

“oh christ-“ he breathes out, repeating the same two words under his shaky breath as you continue to pleasure him with your tongue and hand. after a few licks, you pull away to give your tongue a break. in doing so, your grip tightens around his shaft to pace your strokes quicker. when you find a moment where your wrist needs a break, you let your client catch his breath. his cock throbbing more and more with every passing second when your tongue and hand aren’t exploring him, and you bask in the sight of it. you believe you deserve a medal at this point. not for doing a great job (though, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched), but for having control. you haven’t even sucked him off yet, but you’re content on remaining just like this for a while longer. though, that wouldn’t be fair for the superhero.

before he could whimper out another plea, your warm mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock and your ears perk at the sound of his low moan almost instantly. your hand returns to its rightful position around the lower base of his penis as you cycle your tongue over the glans, satisfying your need to taste his musk once more. seconds later, your hand lets go when you push your head farther, taking in an inch more of the hero’s cock. your knees dig into the floor as you push your head more and more, stretching your mouth with his cock until you feel yourself gagging.

“fuck.” you sniffle out when you pull back. perhaps you were challenging yourself too hard. you think to yourself as you catch your breath, using the remaining moment to sloppily jerk him off with your saliva. part of you wanted to challenge yourself to deepthroat him, impress your client on the first day. but you already know you wouldn’t be able to take it… at least, for now.

“you could hurt someone with this, y’know?” for some reason, you thought you needed to crack a joke as if there was an awkward silence that needed to be filled. maybe you just wanted to hear him talk again. his voice is warm and inviting, somewhat fitting for a superhero or even a television host as the moment you hear his voice again, you felt safe.

“i have before- oh god.” you lube up his cock with your spit as you continue to jerk him off, refraining yourself from fucking his slit with your tongue again to concentrate on his words. “which is why i don’t do this much- sex and stuff… it’s all troublesome, really.”

“yeah?” and just when you talked yourself out of challenging yourself, you feel the competitive spark ignite inside of you again. “well, i guess you just have to find the right one. could be anyone, even people you just met.” you try to play it nonchalantly, hoping that double-handing his wet cock would distract him.

he was beyond speechless at this point, moans drawn out by means of your sloppy strokes. you swear you can hear his heartbeat behind the barrier when you lean your head closer to suck him off again. you moan along with him, drawing out every breath of yours as you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock every time you come down. your hand twists and strokes the remaining few inches that isn’t violated by your tongue and mouth, following your mouth like a reel as your intent to make him cum is fervent more than ever.

it hurts. your mouth hurts by how large your client is and tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself back from gagging. but you don’t stop yourself because you’ll know it’ll be worth it. your endeavor to please him to the fullest has you drowning out his groans into white noise and you can barely register the fact that you’ve been on paused for a while now. you find yourself in a closer position than before, where your mouth is open, lips fully pressed around the carved hole as the superhero fucks into your mouth, fucks into your gags like you’re his personal flesh light. you didn’t care how dirty you looked, how you had saliva and spittle dripping out from the corners of your mouth and onto the floor. who would see? and you didn’t care that you were too preoccupied to touch your dick right now, because you know you’ll be thinking about this very moment for the rest of your life. and right now, you didn’t know if you wanted to be covered in his cum or to have your mouth be filled with it.

remaining in this position, you glance your teary eyes up at his grip over the barrier again. the strength in his grasp forms small cracks in the material of the barrier and that was the sign you knew you fulfilled your sense of purpose.

“christ, i’m going to come-“ your eyes shut again and you breathe through your noise, bracing for impact. he pushes his cock down your throat and hits that sore spot one last time before unloading his cum into your mouth with a stifled groan. warm, hot seed quickly fills you up and you pull your head back an inch to fully enclose your lips around his cock, ensuring none escape your lips.

in a heartbeat, you swallowed it all. his warm cum coats the back of your throat like medicine and you moan around his cock at the taste, intoxicated. you made sure to lick every inch of his cock clean, calmly slurping any saliva and cum that threatens to leave your mouth as you pull back up with a soft pop, swallowing the remaining remnants of his stress away.

“t-thank you. i needed that…” he pulls his softening cock out, careful in avoiding the hole as he was still sensitive. “did you need a tissue or anything? i think i have one somewhere…” you can hear him rummage through what you can only assume would be his bag and you find it charming, a quiet laugh leaving your swollen lips as you lean back onto your elbows to take a breather and stretch your legs out.

“no, no. i’m okay. i, uh, don’t think i wasted a drop.” you proudly brag, only for him to respond with a shy chuckle. you watch him tidy himself through the hole from a leaned back view, occasionally tilting your head in various angles to see if you could catch a glimpse on who the mysterious superhero is, but the barrier remains an obstruction to your view.

“well then, i… uh… thank you for your service.” he covers up the silence with another laugh and you join in, re-adjusting his pants and belt before turning his back towards you and heading out the booth. “i’ll try not to be late next time.”

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hephaestiions · 11 days

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author reclist: wolfpants

over the last few months, i've been devouring @wolfpants' works. ever since reading pages of you in two days, their rendering of harry, draco and a vast array of incredibly compelling side characters have irrevocably hooked me.

wolf is an author in enthralling motion. their fics often feature places, temporalities and contexts far removed from where canon holds & leaves us, while simultaneously being tenderly familiar, like coming home. wolf's sense of & grasp over setting leaves me breathless and dumbstruck. their different spatialities inform & infuse character in admirable ways, at various levels of craft, enjoyment and inspiration. this fandom knows and loves the draco and harry they give us, but we delight in discovering new dimensions & aspects of these characters. it's always done brilliantly believably, especially in the framework of the worlds they construct— a breath of fresh air in a forest where the trees still know your name.

wolf's works also demonstrate, sometimes explicitly, sometimes implicitly, a really significant political sensibility. most of their fics are set against backdrops tight with political tension bleeding into the characters' circumstances and interpersonal dynamics. whether through a spectrality haunting the narrative or the crucial central diegetic thread, wolf's works are layered, interrogating and collapsing delineations among private, public and political, between history and contemporaneity and between narrative and commentary.

in the interests of length & theme of this list, i've specifically selected some fics that, for me, showcase wolf's mastery & playfulness with setting, understood as deviations in place, time and universe. the broader recommendation is, of course, to check out everything wolf has ever written!

nightcall (E, 1k) ft. a long distance phone call

On a top secret Unspeakable misson, Harry calls Draco from a remote phone booth on the Isle of Skye.

a stunning portrait of desire, longing and familiarity that uses distance as a device to intensify every element. it's unbelievable how much character & context 1k words of (mostly) smut can pack in. the slivers of backstory demand your investment, inform the dynamic in crucial ways and set up some delicious stakes and tension. and some absolutely fantastic dirty talk. see also: @getawayfox's gorgeous art for this fic!

long haul (E, 8.6k) ft. plane rides, mile high club, nyc

The last person Harry expects to run into on a long haul flight to New York City is Draco Malfoy.

the way wolf writes movement— between places, between people— strokes its way up your spine, warms you, walks with you. draco and harry, buoyed in the air, let preconceived notions fall away, to be replaced by startlingly rapid and exquisite intimacy. the liminal settings, specifically, allow mature, open-minded, desirous characterisation & some of the most glorious, soft, tender sex to fall into like a warm bed.

look for me in the sun (M, 8.7k) ft. americana, roadtrip/on-the-run vibes

Harry and Draco are on the run in America after a mysterious string of werewolf-like attacks in the Muggle community causes the Ministry to impose new and harsh anti-werewolf legislation.

atmospheric writing dialled up to eleven, like the smell of ozone in the air before a thunderstorm. the sense of limbo— transience, out of place and time, the complication of home— that afflicts the circumstances of draco & harry here is heart-wrenching. a taut rumination on otherness in a variety of ways, rendered through some of the most tense and subtle writing i've encountered.

under giant mountains (E, 33.7k) ft. norwegian dragon reserves & rampant escapist tendencies

Harry doesn't know where he's going. Everyone else has their life paths figured out; he doesn't even know where his map is. Who'd have thought Draco Malfoy bathing in a Norwegian forest would be the guidepost Harry needed?

opens with harry, stuck in the same place for far too long, and draco, avoiding fixity like the plague. this fic looks at both stagnation and escapism as iterations of each other & treats them with the gentlest empathy. the norwegian dragon reserve setting, whose visuality wolf's writing captures beautifully, becomes the canvas to explore both. desire, here, was simultaneously so evident from the outset and took its time to build— longing tinged every interaction & payoff, in the form of a sequence of some of the most emotionally fraught sex scenes i've ever read, was that much sweeter.

romp and circumstance (E, 35k) ft. a historical au set in the 1800s, regency era england

Since the war, Harry Potter has gone from Saviour to Scoundrel—not that he’s complaining. With a schedule full of gorgeous men, alcohol, and late nights, why would he want to change? Enter Draco Malfoy: beautiful, sharp, and completely untouchable. When Draco comes to Harry with a proposition to help him attract an engagement, Harry’s up for it—after all, how hard can it be not falling for his former nemesis? Very hard, apparently.

the very first wolf fic i read, in a brief little fandom interlude back in 2022. i remember thinking, then, what an author, i'm really missing out these days. one of my favourite post-war harry characterisations— raucous, promiscuous, messy and at heart, a hopeless romantic. also one of my favourite draco characterisations— pristine, a little uptight, cool and distant and untouchable, except what he really wants is to be unbuttoned, messed up. the transforming sentiments of their relationship were so compelling, the build of harry's feelings was perfectly achey and tender and this draco was a complex, nuanced, frightfully sexy version that i just couldn't turn away from.

pages of you (E, 101k) ft. a 1980s non-magical au

Summer, 1980. Harry is floating between university and becoming a Real Certified Adult. He's not ready. He really isn't. In a desperate attempt to have the Best Last Summer ever, he takes a casual job at his godfather's bookshop in London, starts an illicit pen pal affair with a wordy posh boy that he's catching feelings for, all while dealing with the son of Sirius's business rival, one Draco Malfoy, insufferable know-it-all extraordinaire.

gosh, what a fic. sensitive and sprawling, this work brings the spatialities of london, sirius and remus' queer comfort of a bookshop and harry's room at the residence halls to pulsing, colourful, splendid life. i can still close my eyes and imagine the spaces this fic occurs in, how important they are to the push and pull, ups and downs of the dynamic between harry and draco. a coming-of-age/sexual awakening & exploration story, summer romance and queer political fiction rolled into one, this is a fic that's hard to summarise and easy to obsess over. perfect characterisations, writing that burrows into your soul and a plot that unfolds with the slow and steady depth of gentle lake.

and lastly, a fic that's on my tbr:

terrible people (E, 52.7k) ft. cruises, beach holidays and more of @getawayfox's masterpieces

What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right?

in conclusion: vivid, descriptive, immersive storytelling from an author who understands the intricacies of different narrative elements and leverages them masterfully. can't wait to read the works i haven't, and for everything wolf writes in the future!

#wolfpants #drarry rec list #geets recs #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry recs #draco malfoy #harry james potter #hpdm fanfic #hpdm #draco x harry

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vex91 · 6 months

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Kim Taeyeon - We'll meet again

Pairing: Kim Taeyeon x Female Reader

Fandom: Girls' Generation

Requested by: @slowlydifferentbluebird

Request: Hi bestie, I'm here to ask you for a new fic, this time regarding a group you haven't written about yet: SNSD. What about Y/N being a long time SM trainee, but given that SM didn't seem intentioned to debut you, you decide to leave the Company, maybe to join another one, maybe to change completely your road. And Taeyeon is so destroyed by the news that she considers to leave SM too. I'll leave you decide all the rest, including the end. Good luck and don't overwork yourself, bestie ❤

Zazá

Summary: Being a trainee was all you've ever knew since SM never debuted you and seeing that they aren't planning it anytime soon, you decided to leave and move to New York. After finding out about it Taeyeon is devastated.

A/N: Hi bestie, thanks for requesting for mother Taeyeon, we all needed that🤭❤

3rd's POV

SM Entertainment was known for their unbelievable good vocalists and artists. They had good vocalists at every corner and it seemed like they just knew who should and who shouldn't debut but it was so far from the truth for Taeyeon. Everytime she heard news about SM debuting another group and there would be nothing about you, she would just roll her eyes at how stupid the company is for letting you sit around doing nothing but train without acknowledging the fact that you were more than ready to debut.

You started out as a trainee when Girls' Generation debuted and you were the same age as their maknae. You being 16 at the time and half American who left New York to debut in Korea made Taeyeon super protective of you despite her being only 2 years older. She made sure to always check on you during her free time and help you in anything you needed help with. She had a soft spot for you and it was obvious to other trainees and her members since you were the only SM trainee that she took such a good care of.

She was your biggest supporter, one of the people who cheered for you the most and assured you of your talents for years and despite it always motivating you to keep going it unfortunately wasn't enough and you started doubting not only your skills but yourself too and that broke Taeyeon's heart. She hated how SM continued to ignore your talents for years now and she could see that you were about to give up and she was right.

"I can do this anymore unnie"

Taeyeon turned her head to look at you. You and Taeyeon were out in the park, you managed to find an empty spot where chances of someone recognizing Taeyeon were low, letting you both to just sit back and relax together.

Your words didn't sit right with the older girl and the bad feeling formed in her stomach, she knew that what you were about to tell her wouldn't be nice and that scared her. She was scared that she was going to lose you in some way "What do you mean?" Her question was quiet and it was obvious that she was afraid of your answer.

"I want to leave SM"

Oh.

Taeyeon would be lying if she said that she didn't saw that coming but it didn't changed the fact that it hurt. She looked at the ground and silence took over until she heard you add something "And I plan to go back to my family... to New York" Taeyeon head quickly snapped in your direction, eyes wide as her heart hammered against her chest after what you said. You were leaving Korea? Leaving her? She didn't wanted to lose you. She didn't wanted you to leave.

"Huh? But why?" Taeyeon knew that this question was stupid, it was obvious that it was all SM's fault but still she needed to hear it from you to confirm it, even if she hated the idea of that. She just needed to hear it from you to let it sink in "I'm just... tired. Unnie I've been training for years and I've accomplished nothing, I feel like all my efforts and time was wasted and right now I just feel like going back home to my family will be the best option for everyone" Tears formed in your eyes as you tried to desperately wiped them away. Seeing you like this made Taeyeon cry herself.

"What about me then? I need you" Taeyeon whispered as she intertwined your fingers, clasping your hands together. This made your heart beat faster as you remembered all the times she held your hand during moments when you felt like everything was too much to you, it always helped you feel a little better. This time though it didn't helped and you feared that no matter how much you love Taeyeon, she wasn't enough to make you stay this time. You had to leave, that was what was the best for you, even if right now it hurt.

"I'm so sorry Tae... I'm really sorry" And just like that you stood up and left. Leaving Taeyeon behind, both of you crying your hearts out knowing that there was nothing that could fix this situation right now. You both just had to accept that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Few weeks passed. You and Taeyeon didn't talked during it and mostly avoided each other whenever you met at the company. Honestly it was quite surprising for everyone there, especially Taeyeon's members. You and Taeyeon were known to be close, inseparable even so seeing you both so distant confused everyone, no one was used to seeing you without each other.

It continued like this until the paperwork you needed to leave was done and soon you were never seen at the company, not by other trainees or artists and no one knew what happened, no one except a certain leader who's heart longed to be by your side again buy it was impossible right now unfortunately.

A week later news about you leaving got to the company and it's artists, you were quite close with all of them so it shocked them but they understood you and they were more than happy to see you off at the airport. Well all of them except Taeyeon who layed in her bed on that day with no plans on moving. She didn't wanted to move, if she did she would be reminded of you leaving and she hated that. She hated how quick you were to leave since your last conversation with her.

A knocking on her door got her attention as she watched them open revealing Tiffany with a small smile. Taeyeon looked away from it, right now she didn't wanted to see anyone smile at her, not when she was such a trash to not see her best friend off at the airport. Despite her personal feelings about it she should be there no matter what but it was just too hard, she wouldn't be able to bear seeing you walk away for no one knows how long.

Tiffany knew that the older girl was more than a mess and she needed someone beside her depsite her assurances that she needs to be alone. Taeyeon could fool anyone but not Tiffany, she couldn't lie to her and say that she wanted space when all she needed was comfort of another person. That's why Taeyeon didn't pushed Tiffany away when the girl hugged her and instead she clung onto the younger girl, crying into her shoulder and letting out all the feelings she held inside.

"She's probably at the airport right now, you sure you don't wanna see her off?" Taeyeon stared at her lap. Truthfully she wanted to, she wanted to see you, she wanted to hold you and tell you about her feelings but most importantly she wanted to kiss you but she was a coward. She was scared that she was gonna drive you even more away which was pretty stupid since you were already literally flying away. Tiffany continued rubbing her best friend's back while also trying to change her mind.

"I'm sure she would love to see you there" That hit Taeyeon a lot "How would you know that?" The older girl snapped but quickly calm down not wanting to take all of her hurt and anger out on anyone else. Tiffany's words just hit her heart so much, all she wanted was for your heart to seek her and want her around you "She told me, she said that she wished you two could see each other at least once before she moves to New York" That made Taeyeon feel like a selfish jerk. She ignored you to not get hurt but she never imagined that it would hurt you too having to move while not knowing what your best friend even thought of you now. In a second she stood up and ran out of her house. She got into her car and speed off to the airport.

There she noticed some of the SM artists coming back to the entrance, probably being done with saying goodbye to you. This made Taeyeon ran faster in the direction she knew you would be, she just wished it wasn't too late. She ran and ran, sometimes even nearly bumping into other people but she continued running with only one thing in her mind - you. And soon after she noticed you in the distance, walking with your suitcase to the checking off gate "Y/N!" She screamed. Your eyes widened at the voice before you turned around but before you could even get a closer look at her, she embraced you into a tight hug, keeping you closely to herself.

Oh how she missed having you close. She was a fool for thinking she could go another day with you thinking she hated you.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, for distancing myself. I just... I was so afraid that I would lose you if you moved back to New York. I-I love you so much" She mumbled quickly in your hair as she continued hugging you. You listened closely to her whole rant before slowly hugging her back, just as tightly "Tae... you were so stupid for ignoring me but I was stupid too for not even trying to talk with you. I love you too, so so much" You smiled at her and Taeyeon couldn't help but cry a little as she connected your lips in a slow but sweet kiss. Feeling your lips moving in sync with hers was all she ever wanted and she was so happy that she could experience it.

After pulling away from each other you wiped her tears with a smile "Don't cry love, we'll meet again. After I'll figure some things out, I'll come back" Taeyeon nodded at your words as she held you "Yeah, I know. I'll make sure that we'll meet again. If you don't come back then I'll move to you" She kissed you again but this time shorter since you had to go catch your flight.

And so she watched you walk away from her once again but this time with a much lighter heart as she knew that no matter what, you two will be together.

#vex writes #girls' generation x reader #kim taeyeon x reader #kim taeyeon

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short-honey-badger · 4 months

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Peppermint Tea 15

Figured I would go ahead and get this part out since it was already halfway written. Just some super fluffy and domestic stuff since I've been in my feels lately.

Also. JJk fandom. The name is for you. It's pretty obvious.

btw. I'm running out of OPLA Gifs of Mihawk, so you might start seeing some anime gifs.

Warnings! kissing is all.

Song reader is singing! Here!

Masterlist

Time passes as time does. Weeks turn into months since the day Dracule stumbled upon your island. He visits when he can, usually staying three or four days at a time, every couple of weeks. During that time, you and Mihawk have grown closer, to the point that the two of you were in each other's thoughts at every waking moment. There was nothing in this world that would keep Dracule away from his Snow Angel.

Today Dracule had a rather unusual gift, so his ship was packed with the things necessary to take care of it. Dracule dearly hoped that you would like this one. He surely did not. Or maybe it didn't like him.

As the months passed by, Dracule gifted you many things, some for you and some for your home. The three chickens, one rooster, and two hens had arrived not long after Mihawk had figured out your true heritage. Your garden expanded another four plots to accommodate all of the new seeds and saplings the warlord brought you. He had even gone so far as to help you build a pen for the goat Dracule had brought along on one memorable trip. The poor man had not been happy and made you help him clean his ship.

The best gift of all was being able to finally meet Perona after weeks of speaking over the phone. The pink girl had quickly become your closest female friend, and it felt incredible to have someone to speak to about the girlier things in your life. There were some subjects that Mihawk just didn't get.

Thankfully, Mihawk arrives at your island before he decides to toss your gift overboard. He gathers his things and then flashes off the ship, making sure the ocean doesn't touch the wiggling body in his arms. Golden eyes glare up at him and he glares right back down, and the warlord swears this thing is worse than the goat. Dracule can hear music pouring out of the cottage when he gets close enough.

And then there suddenly appears before me

The only one my arms will ever hold

I heard somebody whisper “Please adore me”

And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold

Mihawk huffs at the lyrics. His timing was far too good. The closer he gets, he begins to hear your voice as well, and Dracule would much rather hear you sing to him than some man who is long dead. He would stand and listen if his gift wasn't threatening to claw his eyes out.

The warlord steps through the open door of the cottage, and his shoulder slumps as soon as he enters the humble abode. This place is his home away from home, and it never fails to bring him peace.

Dracule finds you in the back storage room, a crate full of the older and unneeded stuff you had lying around. After not having anything but the couch for Perona to sleep over on, you had decided that it was about time to clean out the back room for her. Or anyone else that didn’t want to kill you first thing when they washed up on your island.

Blue moon

Now I’m no longer alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

He leans in the doorway, watching you finish up dumping a broken oar into the crake. Mhawk knows that you see him when you jump and turn to look at him with narrowed eyes and a cute little sneer.

“Bastard. You scared me,” you grumble and then you cross the floor to carefully slide his hat off, holding it to the side as your free hand slides into his hair and brings him down for a sweet kiss, “Welcome home, dear.”

Mihawk hums into the kiss, gently nipping your bottom lip, and then sliding his tongue inside your mouth when you open up for him. You taste like sweet chamomile, and it leaves a soft smile on his face when he pulls away to gaze down at you, “It is good to be back, Angel.”

The two of you share several more sweet kisses before the wriggling bundle in his arms finally gets your attention. You pull away and look down to see a very angry feline staring up at you. You break immediately at the sight of its pitiful gold gaze and hand Mihawk his hat back so that you can scoop the kitten up.

“Where did you find him?” You ask and have already abandoned Mihawk in favor of giving the orange tabby in your arms all of your attention. The kitten purrs happily when you scratch behind his ears.

Dracule glares at the creature, and the kitten glares right back from where it is happily curled up against your breasts. Mihawk doesn’t know how much he likes this idea anymore.

“I stopped for a resupply before I came here. There was a fishmonger that had chased it off, and I knew that you would give it a good home,” Mihawk explains. He sighs when you baby talk at the kitten, not giving half the attention he deserves for bringing the little demon to you, but your happiness was definitely worth it, “I have what you’ll need to care for it in my ship.”

The grin you grant him is worth it too, and Dracule can’t help himself when he crosses the room to press you against the wall, lips connecting with yours in a kiss a little more fierce than the ones earlier. Mihawk has missed you, far more than usual for some reason. You moan into his mouth, eyes sliding shut when Dracule slides a hand around your jaw, angling you just how he likes.

A loud yowl interrupts the two of you, and Mihawk pulls away to sneer down at the kitten who proceeds to hiss at him. You laugh, seeing his jealousy clear as day, and over a cat of all things!

“I guess we should name him, huh?” You say and it’s your turn to be on the receiving end of that sneer. You scoff at him and lift the kitten, dangling him in front of Dracule, “You found him, so you get to name him.”

Dracule scoffs and turns on his heel, stripping off his coat to hang on the mantlepiece, quickly followed by his hat, “He is your cat, so you are the one naming the demon,” He dismisses and stalks to the kitchen, but you only pout and follow after him.

“Nu-uh. That’s not how this works. You saved him, you name him.” You weren’t about to back down on this. The kitten mewls and you snuggle it back to your front, tucking the fuzz ball under your chin.

Mihawk ignores you in favor of pouring himself a glass of wine and snacking on the green grapes you must have harvested earlier today. He feels you slide up beside him, and chances a glance down to see his darling staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes, “Ugh. Fine. Give me a moment to think.”

You cheer at your victory and patiently wait for Dracule to decide on a name. He does you the courtesy of actually thinking of a name and smirks when he settles on a proper name for the hellspawn.

“Sukuna,” Mihawk decides and you repeat the name, getting a feel for it. You don’t know the story behind the name, but it must be an interesting one with the way Mihawk is smirking at the kitten.

“I think that’s a good name,” You agree and scratch Sukuna’s little ears again, melting when the kitten only purrs louder and snuggles close. You giggle when you catch Mihawk glaring at the kitten again, “Let’s find Hank. I think he’ll like his new friend.”

Hank turned out to not like his new housemate very much. Sukuna had taken one look at the big hound and had puffed up, long fur bristling so much that he resembled nothing but a cotton ball. Hank had run from the tiny ball of anger straight to Mihawk, cowering behind the man, and whining whenever Sukuna got too close.

“Nothing but a coward,” Dracule says, but he is already kneeling to give into Hank’s puppy dog eyes and give him some pets. Sukuna stalks from one end of the room to the other, fluffy tail straight up in the air as he surveys his new home.

Mihawk straightens up when he sees you approaching. You settle in his lap, hands cradling his handsome face as you lean in to press your lips to his brow. Mihawk grasps you by the hips, tugging you flush against his front and holding you close. He noses along your jaw, “Are you happy with your gift, sweet thing?” He rumbles quietly.

You nod, “Very happy, Mihawk,” you assure him and settle more fully in his lap, letting the man under you take your weight. He massages your hips, causing a soft sigh to slip from between your lips, “I missed you.”

“Did you, Darling?” Mihawk breathes and pulls you down to press his lips to yours for half a second, “What all did you do while I was gone? I see that you already started to clean up, even though I told you to wait for me.”

You shrug helplessly, “I couldn’t help it. I was really bored, and we already decided what needed to be thrown out, so,” You trail off and lean forward to snuggle against his chest, “You can help in the garden later?”

Mihawk huffs and presses a kiss to your hair. He watches as Sukuna chases after Hank’s tail, lips twisting in satisfaction to see the two animals getting along better. His arms tighten around you, and you have relaxed completely in his grasp.

“Whatever you wish, dear one.” Dracule agrees and says nothing when he feels you grin against his neck.

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #fluff #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #opla mihawk #mihawk x you #mihawk x y/n #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #opla mihawk x reader #opla #cute #Peppermint tea #cats

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existentialcrisistime · 1 year

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D&D: Honor Among Thieves (Xenk/Edgin) fic rec list:

These are just based on those I've read and loved so far. There are so many incredible works coming out of this new fandom that I'm sure I'll have enough recs for a second post in another month or so.

Because this turned onto a bit of a long post, the recs are below the cut.

I've marked the rating by each fic, but please do mind the tags!

Curse of the Green Hag by @moorishflower (E, 16k)

Xenk contracts a fuck-or-die curse and turns up on Edgin's doorstep for the first time since Neverwinter. Also contains an excellent cameo from Holga, a bit of bondage, Xenk's first time, and A Lot of emotions. And of course the actual smut is top tier. Already wanting to read this one again.

High Praise Indeed by enchantedsleeper (T, 3k)

Xenk stops by Holga and Edgin's cottage to find Edgin in the throes of a breakup. In the process of trying to persuade Edgin of his many worthy qualities, he accidentally reveals a little too much. Short and very sweet, with cameos from Holga and Kira. Would recommend for fans of pining idiots.

in the absence of truth by @floralprintshark (E, 13k)

Five times Ed says that he hates Xenk and one time he doesn't. Yes, a 5+1 things, but oh it's so much more than that! There are heists and hijinks, accidental asshole Edgin, uncertain and inexperienced Xenk, and a hint of polyamory between Simon and Doric, but the whole party are featured and written perfectly here. Also contains Many emotions. I sent this one to the group chat, and we were ALL screaming about it (in the best way)

Universal Glue by Korwwa (E, 10k)

A rescue mission goes wrong, and Xenk and Edgin get caught in, yes, a glue trap. The premise may sound like a crack fic, but it's definitely taken seriously, whilst still being very fun. Plus a wee bit of angst for (delicious) seasoning.

Scraping the Moss Off the Standing Stones by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (E, 4k)

Established relationship, Xenk comes home after a long time away and Edgin takes care of him. Oh boy, this fic sure packs a lot into just 4k words, and I feel like the author just Gets how I imagine Xenk - always seen as holy or evil, but just wanting to be treated like a person. Also very hot - I'm weak for some well-written dirty talk and this is perfect.

When the well runs dry by demon_faith (G, 2k)

Part one of the Time Heals All Wounds series, which can either be read as a series or as stand-alone fics. Established relationship, Edgin is badly injured, and Xenk is unable to heal him. A classic hurt/comfort with a good bit of Edgin whump, and Xenk struggling with the reality of that.

On the edge of a blade by demon_faith (T, 3k)

Part two of the series, again established relationship. This time, Xenk gets badly hurt, and it's up to Edgin to take care of him. Heavy on both the hurt and the comfort.

lay on hands by @hauntedfalcon (E, 2k)

A getting-together/first-time fic, with a healthy dose of body worship. Xenk gets off on Edgin's metaphors. Beautifully written, and also my initial thoughts were - this is an author who sure is clued up on the names of medieval clothing/armor.

half your life (you've been hooked on death) by roundtriptojupiter (T, 2.5k)

Edgin struggles to process the events of the past six months, when Xenk turns up at his doorstep. Or, Edgin and Xenk process grief together, then kiss about it. A great exploration of Edgin's emotions, not only regarding Zia and Holga, but of the other people he may have harmed along the way.

We can burn much brighter (if we don't look back) by enchantedsleeper (T, 6k)

Xenk apprehends Forge and learns of the events that transpired at Neverwinter. Grappling with the fact that his past almost repeated itself while he was too far away to help, he encounters Edgin. Such a lovely post-movie fic, exploring just how Edgin and Xenk are processing their feelings in the wake of it.

Do you know you'll never fly alone? by MayGlenn (T, 1.2k)

Something a bit more light-hearted to end the recs list on: a fix-it of sorts, but for the poor undead guy in the post-credits scene. Xenk takes Edgin on a late night ride, to fix an issue he'd left behind, but maybe for something more also...

And that's that for now! Please do feel free to recommend your favourite D&D: Honor Among Thieves fics in return, or yell about which of these you loved the most. My comments and inbox are always open :))

And to the fic writers (and all fic writers out there), thank you so much for sharing these stories with us! You're all absolutely wonderful, talented people <3

#dnd honor among thieves #dungeons and dragons honor among thieves #xedgin #edgin x xenk #fic recs #nic's recs #dndhat fic #nic watches dndhat #rec list

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captainsophiestark · 1 month

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Flickering Firelight

Luke Castellan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Summary: Three snapshots of a relationship with Luke Castellan, before during and after the things he does for Kronos.

Word Count: 1,258

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, leaning my head against my boyfriend's shoulder, both of us illuminated by the flickering light of the campfire we'd made on the beach. Everything had been so busy over the last week, and it was nice to finally have a moment just for us.

"Lotta new campers this summer," mused Luke, my best-friend-turned-boyfriend as of a few months ago. "We're gonna have a hell of a time with them in the Hermes cabin."

"Yeah. Hopefully it won't take too long for them to get claimed. Some of them have been pretty good about it, lately."

Luke just grunted, not really giving me a full response. I knew exactly how he felt about the Olympians and the things they did, so I let it drop.

"I have to say, it's nice to have everybody back, though," I said, gently changing the subject. I took Luke's hand in mine, gently tracing lines with my thumb. "The whole place just feels more alive with the summer campers here."

"True. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to getting them all back into shape in the sword arena, since I just know almost none of them practiced while they were gone."

"Now that is a show that I'd like to watch."

Luke huffed a laugh, and I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk that I absolutely adored, and which made my heart race.

"I've got a good feeling about this summer," I said, moving a little closer to Luke as I spoke. The smirk faded from his lips, replaced with a more thoughtful expression I couldn't totally read.

"Yeah. So do I."

****************

I hadn't seen the love of my life in a long time, and now we stood on opposite sides of a battlefield. And he wasn't really my Luke.

The flickering firelight of the burning city around me reflected off of gold armor, in the gold eyes I didn't recognize.

"Luke..." My voice broke on his name, turning into a hoarse whisper I hardly recognized. "Please..."

The only indication the man I loved was still in there was the slightest twitch of his eye. Time slowed as the monster that had brought him into this mess smiled at me, nothing like the mischievous grin I knew and loved.

"Nice try, little hero. But he's gone. And so are you."

I tried to raise my sword as Kronos advanced on me, but my arms were like lead. I was among the last defenders of Olympus, further out from the final ring my friends had made. I wanted to make a meaningful stand to try to stop this here and now, but as the seconds inched by, it became more and more clear that wouldn't be possible.

The last thing I saw was Luke's stupid sword Backbiter, with its bronze and steel blade, flashing through the air towards me, held by a monster using someone I loved as a mask.

****************

I sighed as I put my feet up on the stone ring of the firepit before me, leaning back in an extra-comfy lounge chair. The sun shone down on me, warming my skin despite being Olympus knew how far underground. Here, it didn't matter. I'd found paradise.

Based on the fact that Elysium still existed at all, I knew my friends had managed to succeed. It hadn't been too long after I'd first arrived here that someone brought news that confirmed it: Kronos and his Titans had been defeated. Olympus had won the day.

Sadly, I wasn't down here by myself. Too many friends were here with me, all of us dying in the fight and at least making it here together, as a small silver lining. We'd taken over a whole section of the place as our own secondary Camp Half-Blood, enjoying the peace here together while we could.

Some of us had even tried for rebirth, and more were headed that way. But I couldn't bring myself to leave. At least, not yet.

I kept waiting for what I was almost confident wouldn't happen, but I refused to move on all the same. Silena had made it down here, after all, despite being a spy for the Titans. She'd realized her error and made a change, helping our cause and redeeming herself enough for Elysium. Based on other accounts from above, Luke had done something similar. He'd also done much worse than Silena, but I still couldn't make myself give up hope of seeing him here too.

"Hey."

I looked up to find Ethan Nakamura, one of Luke's lieutenants who'd defected at the very, very end, looking at me from a few feet away. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he blew out a breath.

"Somebody's here to see you."

I frowned, then shot up straight in my seat as a familiar face stepped out from behind one of the residences of Elysium. Luke, looking more sheepish and unsure than I'd ever seen him in either of our lives, struggled to meet my eyes. I froze, hardly believing what I was seeing. It was him. Like he'd been before all this shit with the Titans.

He finally looked up, and his eyes were his own, all trace of that horrible gold gone.

Tears flooded down my face as I rushed forward, wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. I sobbed into his chest as I held him, my Luke, somehow here with me after death when I never thought I'd see him again.

He breathed my name like he didn't believe I was real, his arms finally coming around me and holding me tight. We stayed like that for a long time, holding each other, hearts pressed against each other. Finally, it started to sink in that he was really here with me, after everything we'd been through. I pulled back just a bit, so I could look him in the eyes again. Those beautiful eyes that I loved met mine.

"Luke..." I breathed, a smile lighting up my face. Slowly, a beaming smile spread on his own, mirroring mine.

"I- I didn't think you'd be happy to see me."

My heart ached at his words, and I leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek before meeting his eyes again.

"I wasn't happy with the choice you made, Luke, and a lot of bad things came from it. But you came back to me in the end. If what I've been hearing is right, you helped save the world, at the cost of your own life. And even at the worst moments, I never stopped loving you."

"I never stopped loving you, either. If I could go back, if I could do things differently-"

I put one finger to his lips, gently cutting him off before he could get too far down that path.

"I know, Luke. But you can't. None of us can do anything to change the past. So we might as well enjoy where we are now."

He nodded, a soft smile gracing his lips. I leaned up to press mine gently against his own, the kiss soft and sweet and everything I'd been missing since that last summer we'd had together. I let myself enjoy the moment, Luke's hands tightening on my waist, then pulled away.

"Come on," I said, trailing my hand down from his shoulder to take his hand. "Let me show you around, and then we can get some marshmallows and hang out by the fire."

Luke beamed. "I can't think of anything in the world that I'd rather do."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

Percy Jackson Taglist: @valkyriepirate

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sheeple · 11 months

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Miracles don't exist | 9: Something fishy

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): None this chapter A/n: Did I use dialogue of Catching fire. Maybe. But that scene is so damn cute and I love it how Peeta looks at Katniss. Ugh [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The days grow slowly less cold but wetter when the second task approaches in February. It's been weirdly quiet. No letters from your aunt or uncle and no letters from your father. You're very relieved that he hasn't written to you in such a long time. That means he is too weak, he's too occupied with something evil and nefarious, or he's dead. You highly doubt the last option.

You walk with your cousin and his friends to the dock so you can take a boat to one of the three platforms. You see Harry walk not much further from you next to Neville and you speed up, catching up.

"Hey", you say, making both boys turn towards you, "Good luck with your task. Please be safe, yeah?"

Harry nods shakingly, obviously anxious about what's to come. You reach out for his hand and give it a squeeze. "You can do this. I believe in you." You give him a small smile, hoping it gives him some sort of comfort.

"Where are Hermione and Ron, by the way?" You look around but don't spot the redhead and the brunette that's usually not far away.

"I don't know", he mumbles. "They've been gone since yesterday. McGonagall asked to talk to them and since then they haven't returned."

You frown. It's not like them to just disappear. "I'm sure it's nothing. Maybe they are a part of the task?"

Harry looks solemn towards the water. "I rather hope not."

Arriving at the boats, a hand on your waist steadies you as you step into the wooden boat. You look up and see Theodore glaring at Harry, who looks too anxious and concerned with the second task that is minutes away from happening to even bother.

The other Slytherins fill the remaining seats in the boat and you wave goodbye to Harry.

Nobody says anything but you feel the glares from around you. "What?", you snap.

"Seriously, Potter?", sneers Draco, his bottom lip curled up. "You know what I have said about fraternizing with the enemy."

You sigh, massaging your temples. "For Merlin's sake, Draco! The boy is terrified! Who knows what he is going to encounter down there. If it were you, you would already be screaming and crying to your father to put an end to the tournament."

Draco's jaw ticks but it seems to shut him up effectively.

The boats stop at the raised platforms and you immediately get out, not accepting the outstretched hand of Theodore. Seeing your opportunity to get away, you climb the first set of iron steps to get to the top deck. There you have a nice overview of the water and the surrounding landscape.

Your head rests on your hand as you lean against the railing, waiting for the contestants to get ready to dive in the water when Theodore slides into the empty space next to you. "I've been thinking─"

"Congrats on using your brain, Theo. You didn't strain it?"

Theodore stops and looks at you with raised eyebrows. Quite perplexed.

You bite your bottom lip. You've grown too comfortable too quick at the idea of Theodore being your friend and you've overstepped boundaries. "Sorry. I've never been really good at being friends."

He smiles, obviously enjoying your little quip. "For starters, it helps when you know the person. I hardly know anything about you except that you love muggle books and that you have the most amazing smile, even though you rarely show the real thing."

The comment about your smile makes your cheeks heat up but you decided to push it down. "That about sums me up."

"There is more than that, you just don't want to tell me."

"It's like I said─"

At that moment Professor Dumbledore starts his speech to explain what the second task contains and with the sound of a cannon firing, the contestants jump into the water. Harry follows after them a couple of beats later.

Theodore leans close to you and says, "Listen, Black, how the whole friend thing works is that you have to tell each other the deep stuff."

"The deep stuff?", you whisper back, your eyes focused on the murky water.

"Like...", he glances up at the sky, "what is your favourite colour?"

Turning towards him, a smile adorning your face. "Now you've stepped over the line."

The both of you laugh. You slap a hand over your mouth and hit Theodore in an attempt to quiet him down before it attacks the attention of the people around you.

Still smiling, Theodore props his head on his fist and says, "seriously though, what is it?"

You think for a moment. What is your favourite colour? Most of the clothing that you own is black and dark green, but that's more to blend in with the rest of your family and the Slytherin students. Your room back home is also mostly black. The only colour you can think of is-

"Pink", you decide.

It makes Theo's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Pink?" He looks perplexed. He for sure expected you to say some variating of green or something.

"Pink", you confirm. "But not old pink. More like… a tulip pink."

Theodore hums, a large smile forming on his face. "Tulip pink?"

He bursts out laughing and you push his shoulder smiling. "It's a nice colour! What is yours anyways?"

He doesn't hesitate for a moment. "Green."

"And you're critiquing my colour of choice?"

Theodore bumps against you with his shoulder. "Shut up. The Whomping Willow leaves colour nicely in spring."

One corner of your mouth twitches up and you snicker. "Whomping Willow leaves?"

The comment earns you a look from the brown-haired boy.

The first to get up to the surface is Fleur ─ who didn't finish her task ─ next is Krum, followed by Cedic. At the last minute, Harry shoots up out of the lake and lands on the platform. The crowd goes wild and you jump up and down, happy that Harry is safe and well.

The task ends with Victor getting the most points and Fleur the least, but the winners are Harry and Cedic.

There is this restlessness in your body, going down all the way to your core. You've been tossing and turning for hours and flipped your pillow over too many times. With a huff, you sit up and decide that you are not going to do this any longer.

You swing your legs off your bed and scramble ─ as quietly as you can as not to disturb the peace of your sleeping roommates ─ for your sneakers and make your way out of the Slytherin common room.

It's quiet when you roam the halls. Of course, it is, it's after curfew after all.

Something in you tells you that something is coming. It festers deep within your soul, twirling and whizzing around. It makes you anxious.

Hearing steps coming from the hallway adjacent to yours, you swiftly hide in an alcove. You suck in your breath in the hope to appear as a shadow. You release it once you see it's Harry that's passing by.

"Harry!", you whisper, making the boy turn his head. His stance relaxes as soon as he sees it's you, and he slides his wand back into his pocket.

"What are you doing out of bed?", he whispers back in the same tone as you walk next to him.

You shrug. "I couldn't sleep. Again. You?"

Harry looks at the ground, searching for the right words. You grab his wrist as a sign he can tell you.

"Barty Crouch is killed. I found him in the forest while walking with Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione. Turns out, Crouch's son was a Death Eater and responsible for torturing Neville's parents."

You hold a hand over your mouth in shock. "Oh, poor Neville. Does he know?"

"No. At least - I don't think so."

You frown. It was never a question of why you felt remorse for the boy. It was your mother after all that tortured the Longbottoms to the point that they are now. And, in your opinion, it's far crueller to leave a boy behind with parents that don't remember him than to leave behind an orphan.

As the two of you pass a hallway filled with portraits, arguing voices cut through the silence of the night before a door flies open and reveals Professor Snape and Professor Karkaroff ─ who has his sleeve pulled up and revealed his dark mark, which slowly grows more intense.

"It's a sign, Severus. You know what it means as well as I."

Karkaroff snaps his head towards the two of you and angrily storms off, sneering.

Giving each other a wide-eyed look, the both of you decide it's for the best to just continue walking. But Snape has other ideas.

"Potter! Black! What is your hurry?"

You sigh and turn around, not daring to look at Snape's harsh glare.

But the Professor's attention is focused on the boy next to you. "Congratulations. Your performance in the Black Lake was inspiring. Gillyweed, am I correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Ingenious. Run along, Black, you mustn't be caught roaming the halls after curfew."

You nod, giving Harry a sorry look before you get house points deducted for whatever Snape is irritated with.

As you round the corner, you know what you have to do. There is no denying that something is going to happen, with the Dark Mark on Karkaroff's arm and the uneasy feeling in your bones. You have to go to Dumbledore. To at least report to him, as you promised.

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @pietrobae @literallyobessed @vanishingcherry @lestat-whore @harrysnovia

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annwrites · 11 days

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bleeding souls ✧☾.·:·.*

— pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen/twin oc

— type: longfic

— summary: since they were children, feyd has been obsessed with his twin, lea. as they grow older, his possessive behavior only worsens, until he is the only shelter for her that remains.

— tw: dead dove do not eat, incest, non-con, dub-con, mutual mutilation, blood, possessiveness, murder, abusive behavior, sounding, fisting, over-stimulation, orgasm denial, exhibitionism, oral sex, fingering, spanking, obsession, etc. (it's feyd, use your imagination lol)

— word count: 11,670

— author's note: this fic is not complete, this is just what i have so far! this was written after i went to see the 2nd film. i've not read the books (even if i own the deluxe editions of the first 3 novels...), but did do some research on the dune fandom wiki to try & keep things accurate to the lore.

Her earliest memories were of this room. Four walls and a plethora of recreational objects—from books, to puzzles, to sketchbooks—all the company she was permitted, per her twin.

The other half of her bleeding soul.

Feyd's obsession with his twin had taken root within his twisted core at a shockingly early age. They'd been no more than toddlers the first time he'd nearly beaten a boy to death, simply for asking to share one of Lea's toys. It had been the fact he'd deigned to speak to her that had set her twin off like an explosive.

He'd retrieved a rather heavy tome of a book from a nearby shelf and smacked the boy on the back of his head as hard as his growing adolescent muscles would allow.

Lea had balked, then backed away, quiet sobs escaping her trembling lips as she watched in horror while her twin made quick work of turning their playmate into a puddle of blood and tears. It was only when a guard hauled Feyd away that the bloodshed ceased, as did the boy's movements and cries of protest.

When their mother, who'd been visiting Geidi Prime at the time, from Lankiveil, had demanded from Feyd an explanation, he'd simply walked over to his twin, took her trembling hand in his—firmly, territorially—and said lowly 'mine'.

It took him bludgeoning another boy—this time with his bare fists, simply for looking at Lea for a few seconds too long for his personal liking—before other parents refused allowing their children to play with them anymore.

Then it was just the two of them.

And she'd never seen Feyd more content.

He doted on her. Would bring her novels with pretty pictures inside, soft colorful toys, her favorite snacks, and would simply watch—ever observant of her every move, every breath, and blink, and swallow— as she read, played with, or ate the things he alone gifted her. As if she was some creature to be minutely observed and studied.

It made her nervous. On edge. Her stomach queasy and hands shaking at the way his dark, depthless eyes never left her. She would find herself often looking up at him from under her lashes, wishing he would find something to occupy his own self with, but it didn't take long before she understood that she was that very thing.

Not long after the two of them began growing into their bodies did Feyd's obsession take a disturbingly dark and drastic turn.

When he was not training, he was ever-present at Lea's side. They shared their meals together, their lessons together, and eventually a room—more specifically a bed, Feyd's bed—together.

He had not asked anyone's permission, but had simply one day commanded servants to have Lea's things placed in his room, along with a bed more than large enough for two.

Lea had been with her seamstress that day, being fitted for a new dress, and thus completely unaware when she returned to her private quarters, finding them empty of all her personal affects. When she turned to walk out the door, panicking as to why her things had disappeared, Feyd had been leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a quite-pleased look on his face.

'Come' was the only word he offered her as he turned on his heel and headed in the direction of his room next to hers.

Dutiful as always, she'd followed, taken completely by surprise at the site of his newly-arranged room when he'd led her inside.

When she had asked him why, unable to understand, as his room had always seemed such a private place for only him—even when it came to her—his response had been simple: we belong together.

She hadn't replied.

Their parents had both been visiting them again at the time, and had of course told Feyd that this behavior was to stop, and that Lea's things would be moved back immediately.

He had walked over to them, momentarily releasing his twin's hand and spoke lowly, so that only the two of them could hear, leaving Lea ignorant to whatever was transpiring.

When he stepped away, taking her hand in his once more, he didn't look back as he led his twin back to what was now their room. But Lea did. And she, as they turned a corner, was met briefly with the sight of her father's lips pressed into a thin line and her mother walking away from him, head bowed in defeat.

It had only been two weeks later before Lea woke up to Feyd's face between her thighs in the dark one night, his own clothes strewn across the floor as he worked at her with his tongue, the only light coming in from the windows beside the bed, which illuminated half of her twin's face in an ethereal glow.

She'd tried to squeeze her legs shut, filled with horror at whatever it was that her brother was trying to do to her, but he'd gripped her knees in both his hands, firm as steel, and forced them apart as he continued his ministrations.

She'd cried, pleading with him to stop. Begging. But he had paid her no mind until she came on his tongue, sobbing and filled with shame, not understanding what had just transpired.

Feyd had curled his naked body around her, his arms a vicelike grip around her dainty nightgown-clad frame, his erection pressed firmly into her back as he found sleep holding her against him.

Meanwhile, she didn't close her eyes again for the rest of the night, silent tears slipping down her cheeks and a feeling of mortification at the warm sensation and slickness between her legs.

The most significant mistake she ever made was not telling her parents. She had wanted to; had taken the steps to even try. She'd recorded a message—a shameful message, where she choked out her guilty admittance of what was happening to her between sobs. She had begged her parents to send for her, bring her to Lankiveil to be with them, but when Lea handed off the message to a servant to send, it was promptly delivered to her brother.

He destroyed it without a second thought.

He then returned to their room, informed her that he knew what she had done and she had simply sat, staring at him, too terrified to respond.

He'd stalked slowly toward her, his face unreadable.

He'd leaned down, gripping her chin painfully between his fingers. "You will never do that again. Your home is here, with me. Wherever I am is where you belong. Is that understood?"

She nodded, trying so desperately to understand him and his motivations for this new direction their relationship had taken.

"Feyd, you're..." She swallowed, and he never loosened his grip, his eyes boring into hers, willing further words from her lips. "You're na-Baron. The heir to our house. You could have any woman you want-"

He promptly cut her off. "You are all I want."

He stood back up then, straightening his spine, releasing her. "Stay here, I'll return to you this evening."

She obliged, curling into herself on the oversized mattress which smelled of him as hot tears greeted her pale cheeks.

She eventually cried herself to sleep, her mind no longer racing with the various scenarios of not only what she could do to get herself out of this new living situation, but what was going to happen to her if she didn't.

She'd been dreaming of pale hands around her throat, something cold slithering inside of her as a dark laugh filled her ears when she was jolted awake at the sound of a heavy door firmly closing shut.

She slowly rose, rubbing at her tired eyes when she noticed Feyd entering the room, dark eyes on her, a small smirk upon his lips as he traipsed over to the large black wardrobe on the other side of the room.

She glanced out the window and noticed how dark it had become while she slept.

She suddenly realized how hungry she was, that she hadn't eaten all day. But then her mind thought back to the events of the night before and that same appetite quickly vanished, replaced by a feeling of revulsion at the sight of her twin before her.

Her stomach growled anyway, causing Feyd to chuckle. “Are you hungry, sister?”

She gulped, afraid of her own voice now. “Yes,” she'd replied quietly.

Feyd shut the wardrobe, a dark bundle of fabric in his arms as he made his way back to her, bare feet padding against the hardwood beneath.

He held something out to her and she took it gently from him, slipping it off of his outstretched arm. She held it up before her. One of Feyd's more simple shirts. Black in color, the sleeves short, no embroidery or special design of any kind.

She looked back up to him, confused. “Put it on once you've finished bathing. I'll return shortly with dinner.”

He turned from her, exiting their bedroom once more.

She looked back down to the garment in her lap. He was choosing how she dressed now? What about undergarments?

She looked back over to the wardrobe and threw the shirt down onto the bed before going over to it. She'd had enough of this. He was not going to choose how she dressed as well. He was being utterly ridiculous.

She fingered one of her silk nightgowns, but hesitated before pulling it off the hanger. What if it made him angry—her going against his wishes?

She decided she didn't care. Feyd had never hurt her. He wouldn't start now.

She hoped.

She ignored the shirt on the bed as she made her way into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her. She hung her nightgown on a hook, then stripped off her clothes, placing them in the hamper before she adjusted the water of the shower.

Before she could step in, her head quickly turned to the right at the sound of the handle being turned. He'd returned far more quickly than she'd anticipated. She watched with bated breath as the handle turned this way, then that, then stopped. She let out a sigh of relief that he'd given up—thankful she'd used the lock to begin with—before stepping into the hot water.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Feyd was waiting for her at the medium-sized table a few feet from their bed.

“Sit,” he'd commanded her, pulling out the chair next to him.

She didn't argue.

She took the designated seat, scooting herself closer to the table, while Feyd lifted the matte black lid from the dish before her. Grilled chicken breast, cooked with roasted vegetables, was the sight that greeted her.

She turned to her twin. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

He merely hummed in response.

Before she could reach for her cutlery, he had already beat her to it.

She watched as he sliced a piece of the tender chicken and stabbed at some green beans before lifting the fork to her mouth. He was going to feed it to her? She opened her mouth, brows furrowed, before he placed the tip of the fork inside. She closed down on it as he removed it in one swift motion. She chewed, then swallowed, watching as he repeated the motion.

“Feyd, I can—”

He cut her off by placing another forkful inside her mouth.

As he cut the chicken again, he spoke. “You locked the door.”

His tone was unreadable, but she knew he wasn't pleased that she had. So what, had he planned to join her?

She gave a nervous, forced smile. “Habit.”

He, once again, only hummed his response.

Little did she know that the next morning when she awoke, the lock on the bathroom door would be gone.

He fed her another forkful. “You didn't wear what I gave you to.”

That she could come up with no excuse for.

“I-” she started, but he cut her off by placing the fork in her mouth again.

She didn't like this.

“You won't do it again.” It was not a question.

As he lifted another forkful to her lips, she reached up, placing her hand over his wrist, forcing him to lower it. She turned to him then, their knees now touching. “Feyd, why are you acting like this all of a sudden? It's scaring me.”

He frowned. “You don't need to be afraid, Lea. Am I not taking care of you?” He asked, while looking at the room around them, then back down to the plate before her.

“I can take care of myself.”

He snorted, going to lift the fork again, but she kept her hand in-place. “Last night-”

He quickly cut her off. “You enjoyed it from what I remember. And what I remember is every second of it.” He could already feel an erection forming at the very thought of it.

She felt the color drain from her face.

“It's wrong,” she whispered, as if someone might hear.

His expression grew angry. “Says whom?”

He used his other hand to grip her upper thigh firmly and she winced. “We were made together, we are meant to be together. You belong to me.”

His tone had grown icily possessive. Entitled.

“I'm your sister. Feyd, we don't-”

“We-I can do anything I please. I am the heir to our house. No one will tell me otherwise.”

His grip was beginning to hurt her.

“Say it,” he commanded.

Tears stung her eyes. “Say what?”

“That you're mine. We belong to each other. Say it.”

Everything inside her wished to do otherwise. She didn't believe it. Couldn't understand for a moment how he himself could. Something had always been different about Feyd, in the worst way possible, but this side of him was unlike anything she'd ever seen.

She nodded. “I'm yours. We belong together.”

“You will obey only me. You will share my room, my bed, my clothes, my food, and anything else I deem fit. And only I am allowed to touch you.”

It was not something to be replied to. She only nodded, heart pounding so hard she wondered if he could also hear it.

Suddenly, the look on his face, as well as the iron grip he had on her thigh, relaxed.

He lifted the fork to her lips, a playful smirk once again upon his. “Open.”

She did.

Once dinner was through, Feyd walked into the bathroom, never closing the door. She looked away as he began to undress right in front of her. She allowed a small sob to escape her lips once she heard the water start, and the door to the shower, with slick black marble walls, close.

She placed her head in her hands. This day had always been coming. She should've known that. He had ensured it over the years as he made her more and more alienated. He had wanted her all to himself, and he had finally gotten what he'd always wanted—desired—above all else.

Once Feyd emerged, Lea was lost in thought, looking out the large window behind their bed, which ran the width of it, once again. She only noticed him when she felt the mattress beside her dip.

Feyd's large hands found her hips, as he rested his chin upon her right shoulder. “What are you looking at, my love?”

Love. He had no idea what that word meant. She wasn't sure she did either, now.

“Nothing.”

He hummed. “Lie down.”

She wasn't tired. She'd slept all day.

“I'm not tired, Feyd.”

His right hand snaked between her thighs. “Perhaps I can help.”

She jolted, turning away from the window, her back slamming into the small ledge which encased it behind her. Her horror grew when she saw that her twin was completely naked.

“Feyd, w-what-”

“This is how I prefer to sleep. Soon, you will, too.”

So he could predict her future wants and wishes now? She was still her own person. He didn't fucking own her. Didn't know her own mind better than her.

“No, I won't.”

The palm of his hand came to rest over her sex, displeased she was wearing underthings. “Do not be difficult, Lea.”

“This isn't natural-”

He cut her off, as always, preferring to do all the thinking for her. “The only thing that would be unnatural would be trying to reject it. Hide it. You will learn to embrace it. And you will enjoy it.”

She shook her head. She opened her mouth to protest, but he crushed his lips against hers, so hard it made her teeth hurt. He forced her lips open, plunging his tongue so deep inside it made her gag. He gripped her hips again, sliding her down on the mattress. He fought to remove her nightgown, then animalistically tore her underwear from her body.

She could barely breathe or see or think through the tears. “Feyd, please-”

While she was begging him to stop, in his mind, she was begging him to go further, and he was more than willing to comply.

His lips descended upon her neck, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, her sex—which he devoured. His hands stayed locked around her wrists, holding them firmly above her head, then down at her sides as he licked and sucked and kissed at the glistening pink jewel between her legs. His erection pressed into the mattress, pre-cum soaking into the sheets beneath him as she whined and thrashed wildly. He nearly laughed like a madman at how wanton she seemed to be.

This was right. So very, very right, he thought as he fucked her with his tongue, lavishing every last drop of her. He concentrated on the small bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking the tip of his tongue against it. Moaning as her hips lifted as he did.

He bit into one of her thighs, so hard he drew blood and she cried out in shock and pain, while he simply placed his mouth over the wound, licking at the red substance which trickled out. The sight of his bite-mark in an area which only he had access to, blood leaking out, excited him so much he could no longer contain himself. He rose up, plunging his throbbing cock from shaft to hilt deeply inside of her.

Her breathe caught in her throat at the incredible pain. She barely had a chance to catch it as Feyd wildly bucked his hips against her, grunting and moaning, skin slapping against skin as he lost himself in the pleasure of being inside of his twin.

He had waited so long for this moment. Had pleasured himself more times than he could ever count, to the very thought—fantasy—of it. Had stroked his cock so many times until he was so sore he could barely stand to touch it, then did it even more, relishing—enjoying—the pain.

Nothing had ever felt more right than this. Than the two of them being joined together like this—there. He looked down, her small breasts bouncing with every pump of him—his beloved twin who he would always, always take care of and protect—inside of her. Her pale face was streaked with tears, which he then licked and kissed away, enjoying the salty taste of her upon his tongue. Her face was flushed, lips swollen from kissing and crying.

He understood it now.

Crying from happiness.

He didn't cry himself. Never had, but nearly could this night. Everything was so perfect. Every night for the rest of their lives could be like this—nay, would be. Him buried as deep as he could be inside of her. Her lost to the pleasure he was more than willing to provide.

He watched as his cock plunged in and out of her, and noticing it covered in blood, their thighs as well—from him breaking her hymen, to the bite mark he'd left on her thigh—it was all too much and he couldn't contain it any longer. He went thundering over the edge. His hips slamming wildly against her, him loudly moaning out his release as his hot and plentiful seed spilled into and out of her. His twin, his lover, his everything.

He collapsed on top of her, his cock still twitching inside her, and he tried to calm his breathing.

He felt...euphoric. Like a god.

How could something that felt so good, so incredibly right, ever—ever—be considered wrong? Let them try to tear them apart: their parents, their brother, the guards or servants. He would kill them all until they were the only two left. His uncle would be the only one to understand. He had a similar...affliction when it came to finding pleasure with those society deemed unfit for the job.

He was his heir, however. And if his uncle approved, then no one else mattered. And if he didn't, he would kill him, too.

A fight between the two would be little challenge, he mused.

Slowly, Feyd rose, looking down tenderly at Lea, while her eyes seemed to refuse to meet his. His brows furrowed.

“What is wrong?” He placed a gentle kiss to her soft cheek.

Everything, she wanted to say.

She hadn't wanted it...at first. It was wrong. She knew that. Siblings—family—weren't meant to be like this. But, at some point, the pain had turned somewhat...pleasurable. And she liked it...what he did with his mouth between her thighs. She then thought it herself: why, exactly, did it have to be wrong?

Yes, they were twins, shared blood, but if it wasn't hurting anyone, then what reason did they truly have to stop? She felt sick with herself to even consider such things. To consider that maybe he had been right.

What was happening to her?

He sat on his side, looking down at her, while his right hand held his head up, his left rested gently on her stomach.

She looked at him. “I don't think...that it will be an easy adjustment for me.” She paused. “Whatever this is.”

“Did you not enjoy it?” He knew she had. Had heard the sounds she made, had coated his tongue and cock in her wetness. Had felt her clenching tightly around him.

All was silent between them for a long while, until, finally, she replied.

“Yes.”

He filled with satisfaction. He had done it. Had unlocked something inside of her. Something which only he possessed the key to.

He kissed her, long and deep, before rising from the bed. He held out his hand to her. “Come, let's get ourselves cleaned up.”

As Feyd washed the two of them, he silently hoped the bite mark he'd left would scar, a permanent memento of the first night they lied together. His own personal brand of ownership upon her body.

Once they were back in bed, it'd only taken a moment for Lea's naked form to relax against Feyd's, his arms firmly wrapped around her, as she found sleep pressed against his chest.

During the next few weeks, the two of them barely left their room, unless it was for studying, or Feyd's training. During that time, Feyd almost always kept the two of them bare before one another, the door locked.

They were near-always in bed, doing learning of a different kind.

Feyd had spent hours every day using his hands, his fingers, his mouth and tongue and teeth, his cock—everything he had at his disposal, really— to learn every facet of his twin's body. He wanted to have every inch of her memorized. Schooled himself on what things he did that made her tremble and shake, whine and plead, soaking their sheets, and what things made her disinterested or uncomfortable.

He paid acute attention to her breathing, her swallowing, her complexion. Her body language, inside and out. From the way she lifted and lowered her hips, spread her legs for him, what made her wet and dripping quite quickly and what made her seem to dry up, to how she clenched when he stuck parts of himself, or other objects inside of her.

It was pleasurable for him, yes, but he was mostly fascinated by how her body worked in conjunction with his own. As the days went on, his conviction that the two of them were literally made for one another only grew stronger, until nothing could convince him otherwise.

She liked when he was slow and gentle. That much had become apparent very early on. And he took no qualms with dragging out their lovemaking. Eventually, he had managed to perfect the process to taking hours. His cock and fingers and sex toys slipping in and out of her at an excruciatingly slow pace. His erection would throb painfully at the sight of her spread open before him, her cunt red and dripping, she quietly whimpering his name repeatedly, like it was the only word left in all the world.

He would tease her, barely brushing his thumb over her sensitive clit, while her body jerked in response. He'd blow gently against the slickness pooling between her thighs and she would sometimes begin to cry from sexual frustration.

It wasn't just about learning, however. He was also training her. Training her mind to begin working differently when it came to fucking him.

She had resisted from time to time when it all first began, but never had Feyd allowed that to stop or hinder him. He knew best for her. For the both of them. It would just take his being patient for it to settle permanently into place within her like it had him. So when she would fight against it—him—he would hold her down, or sometimes would tie her up, which he noticed quickly made things much easier when he had all his faculties at his disposal, and would get to work on her sensitive body.

There was a toy that was a particular favorite of his. Something which he could clip onto her clit and control with a small remote. It would vibrate at various frequencies, all while he slowly plunged his aching cock in and out of her.

When she would try to make him stop any way she could, he would turn the toy off, making sure to note how she clenched around him—never bothering to remove his cock from inside of her—all the confirmation he needed to know she liked it all as much as he did, whether she wished to admit it audibly or no. She would look up at him pleadingly then, but he wouldn't move an inch until she gave him what he wanted. An apology and 'please'. And then he would start up again.

Sometimes, it took the better part of a day before the two of them would orgasm together. She was the one who made the process take so long, but he didn't mind. He lost himself in it. In her.

He knew she absolutely loved when his face was between her legs. So, he endeavored to give her oral sex quite often. But only when she was good for him. He wasn't just going to give her what she wanted if she wouldn't do the same for him. And all he wanted was for her to behave however he wished at any given moment. And when she did, he rewarded her, quite generously.

He had taught her how to perform oral sex on himself as well, allowing her throat to adjust to the size of him. Sometimes she would gag trying to take him all in. Sometimes she would suck, quite content with him buried deep in her warm wet mouth, his seed spilling down her throat, down her chin when he finally finished as her head continued to bob against him, cleaning him lovingly with her tongue.

He knew the guards outside their doors knew. Sometimes he fucked her up against it, grunting loudly for all to hear him claiming her over and over again as his personal property.

The servants it was most certainly not hidden from. They soiled their sheets daily, sometimes multiple times a day. Their clothes strewn across the floor, her panties often soaked through, needing washed. Sometimes, despite her words of protest, he would fuck her right in front of them.

The day their father came to put a stop to things—having been told by a messenger, which was later found choking to death in a puddle of his own blood on a cold floor—the door had been locked as always, but he'd been given the key. (Feyd later rectified this. A new knob was put into place, which he himself had the only key to.) And when he opened the door, the sight before him stopped him, horrified, in his tracks. And he regretted returning to Geidi Prime, knowing what awaited him when he did.

Feyd had been sat on the bed, naked, his erection settled between his legs, one foot planted on the floor, while Lea was hunched over before him. Her face had been turned toward the same door her father had just walked through, her head resting on a pillow, her expression one of pure pleasure—her cheeks pink, her mouth slightly open as she panted gently, lids hooded—while her ass-end was in the air before her twin.

She had a toy clamped firmly over her clit, which emitted a low vibrating sound, and he watched as Feyd slipped a toy inside her cunt, which already contained one, him trying to stretch her to her limits, while she simply moaned in pleasure. His other hand coming down to smack her already-red behind.

Lea froze, shame filling her, along with a feeling of nausea. But she didn't move, didn't dare anger her brother as he looked at their father, an evil smirk on his face.

“Hello, father.” Was all the greeting he gave him as he removed both the toys from inside his younger sister by five minutes, tossing them onto the bed, before easing himself into her, never looking back to see their father exit without another word as he began fucking her himself.

He and Lea came together only a few moments later before beginning again, never speaking a word of what had just occurred.

The few and far between times when they dined with their parents when they were visiting, the twins always sat next to one another, Feyd's hand gripping her thigh, sometimes his finger's exploring between her legs, sometimes a toy even stuffed inside her as they ate. Not to mention that Feyd had completely altered her wardrobe.

The only gowns she was allowed to wear outside their room now were incredibly sheer, everything practically on display. The guards were intelligent enough to know not to so much as glance in her direction. The gowns served as both a challenge and a statement, she knew.

Feyd hoped desperately just one of them would look at her. He'd cut their eyes from their sockets while she watched. All for her.

So, while they all dined, Lea would hardly touch her food. Meanwhile, Feyd would clean his plate. Their parents never looked at or spoke to either of them. Too disgusted by what they had become. Too ashamed to speak it out loud. Or, perhaps, afraid to, in fear of what their son may do in response.

When they would finish, Feyd would stand, then pull out his sister's chair, before heading back in the direction of their room, her following closely and silently behind, her thighs slick with herself from whatever toy he'd chosen for her to have that night, if not the back of her gown as well.

She didn't know it, but Feyd got off on it: their parents knowing what the two of them were doing together. That it was forbidden, but that they enjoyed one another in so many ways in spite of it.

They needn't worry about a grandchild yet, however. Feyd had had an implantation put into Lea to ensure there was no such risk after their first night together. This way, they could simply enjoy one another.

Eventually, their parent's visits ceased, and finally there was no one left to try and stand in Feyd's way of making her wholly and utterly his own.

Over time, Feyd no longer allowed Lea to leave their room. He'd had the air leading into it purified—a very difficult and expensive process—and he'd also had her diet modified, health supplements were delivered regularly, which she was also directed to take daily. And his hope of what it would all bring finally came to fruition. Long, dark hair began to grow from his twin's head, long enough for him to wrap around his fist after a few months, and it pleased him greatly.

Lea hadn't been sure how to feel about it at first. All her life she had been bald, like every other citizen of Geidi Prime. Hair-care was something she, nor anyone else, ever need concern them self with here. But Feyd had made it clear that this was something he wanted for—from—her. In time, she came to understand why.

Not only did she feel that it made her look more feminine, but she felt as much, too. As the hair grew longer and longer, Feyd had shipments of special soaps and oils, brushes and combs delivered. He tended to her hair himself.

One day, a new resident was delivered to their home. A stylist. She was the only other person allowed anywhere near his twin's hair. Once it reached Feyd's desired length—just above Lea's bottom—he would have her brought into their room to have it cut. He would stand closely by, arms crossed, ever-observant as she would trim the ends; the threat of having her throat cut open always looming if she made one wrong snip.

When she would finish, she would stand to the side as Feyd took the hair in his hands and between his fingertips, ensuring it was perfect. Once he deemed it so, he would give her a small nod, and she would leave without another word.

Inevitably, Lea became stir-crazy being constantly locked up, her only company her twin brother. She had one day begged him to allow her to go outside, just for an hour or two, but he had simply slipped his fingers through her silky hair, before looking into her eyes and giving her a firm 'no'.

She had cried that night as he fucked her.

Over time, Lea began to lose weight, her hair began falling out, both of which caused even Feyd distress. She wasn't eating, was hardly sleeping, and spent all her time with her face pressed up against the window in their room, constantly staring outside, like a prisoner trying to escape through the bars to his cell.

Feyd had had servants come in and do a thorough cleaning of their room, the furniture re-arranged to better suit the space—some of it replaced altogether—and he'd had shipment after shipment of books and puzzles and paints and new nightgowns, and beautiful new brushes and hair accessories brought in. He'd even had, for each of her meal's, Geidi Prime's chef make only her favorite dishes, hoping it would lift Lea's spirits, bring her back to who she'd been a few months prior. But she showed little to no interest in all of it.

Even lovemaking had become a hollow chore. She would simply lie there limp, like a dead fish, as he pumped his cock in and out of her, her cunt barely even wet for him—and she was always wet for him at all times of the day—dripping and ready whenever he needed to take his release. Not even the toy for her clit had gained him a response. He'd put it carefully into place, and put it on the setting she liked the most, while he slipped two fingers inside of her to observe how she reacted. Her tight walls didn't clench even once, causing him to deflate, along with his erection.

Feyd felt at his wit's end. He knew all along what it was that she truly needed: out of their bedroom. Outside, even just for half-an-hour. But he was afraid—actually afraid—of what would happen to her hair if he allowed it. Would it fall out immediately? He seriously doubted it. But how often, then, could he allow her out, before that risk finally occurred. Before all his hard work to get it to grow in the first place became all for naught?

He couldn't understand why it meant so much to him. Something so simple. But he also did: his twin had something no other woman on their entire planet did. His lover, her beautiful head of hair, was something for other men to lust after. But only he was allowed anywhere near her.

Finally, one day, after she had not eaten for three in a row, and had only spoken a handful of words to him—only after he had spoken to her, at that—he relented.

“Let's go outside.”

Her head shot up and in his direction, her eyes wide against her now-gaunt face.

She slid toward the edge of the bed. “Do you really mean it?”

He nodded, while holding out a coat in her direction.

He slipped it on over her now too-slender shoulders and waited patiently as she slipped on a pair of shoes, barely paying enough attention to even make sure they matched, before she looked up to him excitedly.

He gave her a small smile in response, pleased to see the old her returning to him. He took her hand in his, her fingers now cold and bony, before he unlocked their bedroom door from the inside, then locked it behind them once they were in the hall.

They were only a few steps down the hall before Lea stopped in her tracks, Feyd looking to her. “I thought this was what you wanted?”

She didn't hear him as a roaring started in her ears. How long had she been locked in that room? Being outside of it now was overwhelming—no, more than overwhelming—she felt like she was going to be swallowed whole.

When had this hallway gotten to be so large? It engulfed her. It was never-ending; the world was. Too big, too much. Too much space. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe and she dropped to her knees, causing Feyd great alarm at the sight before him.

He kneeled in front of her as she curled into herself. What was happening?

He tried to pry her hands away from her face, but she swiftly put them back over her eyes.

“Lea, stop this.” he hissed.

But she couldn't hear him. She was whispering to herself 'no, no, no, no, no' over and over again. Both of them wondered if she had gone mad.

Finally, he scooped up her fragile frame in his arms and carried her back to their room, her face buried in his neck, terrified to look at the space around them.

Once she heard the door shut firmly behind them and lock, did her vision behind to clear and her breathing return to normal. Her heart rate slowed.

Feyd set her on the edge of the bed, while once again kneeling before her as he brushed her hair behind her ear, out of her face.

She began to silently cry. “I'm sorry. I don't... I don't know what happened.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before standing. “I'll fetch the doctor.”

Before she could tell him that that wasn't necessary, he was out the door and gone.

Lea had nearly started drifting off to sleep before Feyd finally returned, doctor in-tow as promised.

The same doctor who had implanted her birth control device some years prior. He was nearly the same age as their father, a few inches shorter than her brother, and thin, with a very serious disposition.

Feyd hovered over her protectively as the doctor retrieved a chair from the nearby table and sat it in front of her. “Can you tell me what happened today, My Lady?”

Lea glanced up to her twin, who gave her a small nod, his arms crossed, and she looked back to the doctor, then down to her hands.

“Earlier, Feyd and I were going to go for a walk. And when we left our bedroom, I... I felt like I couldn't breathe, couldn't see. I felt...so afraid, simply because we were standing in a hallway. One I've been in thousands of times before. It felt like it would never end. Like the world might swallow me.”

Finally, when she looked up, the doctor's features were overtaken by a sudden sense of understanding.

He stood then, Feyd following him a few feet away from her.

“What's wrong with my sister?” Feyd demanded answers from him in a low, gravely, but threatening voice.

The doctor somehow wasn't intimidated. “She has a condition, psychological, known as agoraphobia. When was the last time she left this room?”

Feyd didn't answer.

“It can manifest due to different things, and in different ways. I would say her particular case can be attributed to her being closed up in this room for months-on-end. She was made to feel comfortable, until there was no reason for her to leave. That is, until her body started urging her to do otherwise.”

“How do I fix her?”

“She needs to gradually work back up to being used to being outside of this room again. It won't be easy, for either of you. She'll battle you every step of the way, terrified of what may lie beyond that door, despite the fact that she already knows the answer.

“Start small, the hallway, then a nearby room, then another and another, until, finally, she's ready to go outside. You need to reassure her that she's safe, and that everything ends: the hallway, that the rooms she's in are just four walls and a door, even our planet is only so large. Everything has an end.”

“And if I allow her to stay in here, where she's most comfortable?”

The doctor glanced back to Lea, then to the young man before him and shook his head. “You already know the answer to that.” He sighed. “I can give her something for anxiety, and something to help her sleep, but the rest is up to her. It may help, for her to have a professional to speak to about how she's feeling, so as to gauge her progress. If so, I'd be happy to help.”

Feyd already knew that much he wouldn't allow. If she wanted—needed—someone to speak to, she had him. She didn't need anyone else. Especially another man. Doctor or not.

“Have the medications delivered once they're ready.”

With that, the doctor knew their conversation was at an end. He nodded, then made his way to the door. He briefly glanced back to the siblings behind him. “Please let me know if either of you need anything further,” and then he was gone.

Feyd walked over to Lea, kneeling before her while tears shone in her eyes. “What's wrong with me?”

He brushed a stray tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “A condition, called agoraphobia. To put it plainly: you've been closed up in here so long, it's messed with your mind. Made you afraid of what's on the other side of the door.”

Her brows furrowed. “Ag-agor...” She trailed off, then shook her head. “How do we fix me?”

Feyd looked over his shoulder to the door behind him, then back to his twin.

Her eyes grew wide, then she began to shake her head. “No, I can't go back out there. Feyd, please. I know what I want now. I want to stay in here, with you. And when you leave, I'll wait for you to come back like I always do. I'll-”

He shook his head. “Being kept in here isn't helping you, either. You'll do as I say. I know what's best for you.”

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door, then, and when Feyd opened it, he was greeted by a slave holding a tray with two bottles, pills inside, meant for Lea. He took them without a word, closing the door in the young boy's face.

That night, Feyd didn't allow his little sister to leave the dinner table until she had eaten every last morsel from her plate. Once finished, he handed her a sleeping pill. Before taking it from his outstretched palm, she looked at him hesitantly.

“To help you sleep.”

She nodded, placed the pill on her tongue, then drank a sip of water. “How long until it takes effect?”

Feyd shrugged while standing. He pulled Lea's chair back and watched as she walked over to their shared wardrobe and slipped off her clothes from the day, dropping them to the floor. She went to put on one of Feyd's plain shirts, before he told her to stop.

She glanced back to him, already in bed. And naked.

She felt heat pool between her legs then, and she padded over to him. She came to stand before him, between both of his legs, and he gripped the backs of each of her thighs, then kissed her stomach. He then took his right hand and placed his palm firmly against her sex and hummed in satisfaction when his hand came away glistening and wet.

He then slipped two fingers between her folds and his cock hardened at the slick sensation. A proper diagnosis, treatment plan, and a decent meal later and already her body was coming back alive and responding to his touch again.

He eased one finger inside her tight cunt, and she gasped, her hand coming up to grip his shoulder. He then eased in another, and grinned as he felt her clench around him. It was when he eased in a third that her knees suddenly felt weak. He curled them upward, massaging the sensitive ledge inside of her and she threw her head back, closing her eyes.

When she began to moan, Feyd's grin grew wider, and he stopped.

Her eyes shot open, but before she could ask him to continue, he nodded toward the bed. “Lie down.”

She did as commanded and spread her legs, allowing her twin brother access to her.

He sat back on his haunches and placed one hand firmly on her stomach, while he slipped four fingers inside of her this time. He began fingering her so quickly she barely had a chance to catch her bearings. He pressed down on her lower stomach and she gasped at the heightened sense of pleasure.

Soon, Feyd's hand was coated in her, and obscene sounds were coming from between her legs.

She looked down, her eyes meeting Feyd's, which had grown impossibly dark, and watched as the muscles in his arm worked at finding her release.

She threw her head back against the mattress beneath her and opened her legs even wider then and could swear she heard her twin groan in approval.

The stimulation of him continually hitting that most pleasurable spot inside her, after a few more minutes, finally sent her over the edge, with her nearly screaming at the release he finally helped her find. Liquid shot out of her cunt, soaking the sheets beneath them. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before at his hands.

He didn't stop until the squirting did, and then he dove in with his mouth.

Lea whined in pain, still too sensitive down there, but Feyd paid her no mind as he began to suck at her wet folds, circling his tongue over and over, lapping at her juices like a man desperate for water in the deserts of Arrakis.

“Feyd, please, no more.”

He responded by gripping her hips, pulling her closer to his open mouth.

She sat up on her elbows and looked down at him. “Please,” she panted, her cunt growing more and more sore as he continued on.

He rolled his eyes and began to fuck her with his tongue.

It'd been weeks since they'd been properly intimate. She wasn't going to deny him this. Something they both desperately needed.

Lea lied back down, bringing her hands over her eyes and trying her hardest to keep herself together as Feyd dined upon her body.

He'd be done soon enough, she was sure.

How deeply wrong she had been.

Once Feyd made her orgasm not once, not twice, but three times—the second orgasm sending her to tears at the pain of it, the third near-excruciating—he had slipped himself inside of her. She had cried quietly beneath him as he took his time easing himself slowly in and out of her.

She wasn't sure which she wanted less... Or perhaps more... For him to be gentle with her, given how sore she now was, or for him to pound away inside of her to get it over with more quickly.

Feyd began to run his thumb over her clit, which was now red and raw, while she pressed the heels of her hands into her wet eyes. “Feyd, I can't again. Please. It's so painful.” she choked out between sobs.

He ignored her pleas as he palmed one of her breasts, continuing to rub her clit.

Two more orgasms later on her part, Feyd finally came inside of her. She was exhausted by then. Her cunt was throbbing painfully, her brother's hot cum leaking out of her, and she was struggling to keep her eyes open, the sleeping meds having kicked in some time ago.

Feyd had crushed his lips to hers, satisfied that he had finally gotten to cum in her after being patient for so long.

When Lea fell asleep, it was with Feyd's arms around her, his naked frame wrapped around her own, and his cock buried inside her.

Lea lounged back in the bathtub large enough to be a pool and ran her fingers over the scars covering one of her thighs, then the bite mark on the other, which Feyd had given her the first night they had sex so long ago.

The scars on her left inner-thigh were her twin's doing. One for each year of their being together. Not as siblings, but together. As one flesh and soul and blood. He told her it was so she would never forget a moment between them.

It was to always mark the anniversary of that first night. And each time he would cut her, he would then drink until the blood stopped flowing.

He had matching scars on his own as well, administered by her. The first one she had done, she had tried it—his blood, per his request—and promptly gagged as the metallic taste filled her mouth. She, thankfully, didn't have to again after that first time. So long as the marks were made by her hand, he was satisfied.

She's removed from her reminiscing at the sight of her brother entering the bathroom. Feyd stands over the tub, looking down at her, her looking up at him in anticipation, when he finally reaches into the depths of the tub, removing the silver stopper.

She stands and her twin grabs a towel to wrap her in, but not before taking a moment to admire her wet, naked body.

Finally, he wraps her up and she follows Feyd out of the bathroom and watches patiently as he chooses a gown for her to wear for the day. He finally settles on a see-through lavender one. He then opens a drawer and retrieves a pair of nipple clamps.

Lea blanches at the sight of them. The gown was bad enough, but the clamps? Completely unnecessary.

Feyd gently tugged the towel away from Lea, and she let it drop to the floor. He took one of her breasts in his hand, and slipped the nipple clamp into place and adjusted the tightness until it stayed in place, then repeated the motion with her opposite breast.

Then, he slipped the gossamer gown over her head and retrieved a brush from a nearby table and ran it through her damp hair.

Once he deemed her appearance appropriate, she wrapped both her arms around his right one, and held on tight as he unlocked their bedroom door. She squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment at the sound of it, her heart already beginning to pound just at a lock coming undone.

Feyd led the two of them into the hall, locking their bedroom door behind them, and Lea’s grip only tightened. She didn’t want to look—to see the never-ending hall before them.

Feyd looked down to his twin, who along the way had become so incredibly fragile, and spoke lowly to her. “Open your eyes, my darling. You have to look.”

Lea slowly opened one eye, the other side of her face still pressed against Feyd’s upper-arm. As she looked around, she couldn’t help but feel like she was trapped in a tunnel with no exit.

They took one step forward, then another and another, Lea’s heart beating wildly the entire time, a feeling of such surety that if they went any further, something terrible was going to happen. Her feet halted where she stood and Feyd gave her a moment to catch her bearings. He planted a soft kiss upon the top of her head.

“A few more steps and then we’ll be in the library, my love.”

The library. With towering bookcase after bookcase. A labyrinth to get lost in.

She shook her head. “I want to go back now.”

Feyd drug her along another few steps. “You’ll do as I tell you.”

She wanted to beg further. How could she have ever wanted out of their room? Their bedroom where it was warm and pleasant. A large glass window to look out of at an unsafe world, in their safe and very comfortable, over-sized bed, piled with pillows and blankets. She had two large bookcases of her own, she didn’t need to peruse the nearby library.

She wanted to go back to bed with her brother and get lost in the feeling of him buried inside of her, his arms wrapped around her, where she was most safe. Or at the very least…felt most safe.

Once Feyd had finally gotten them to the library a few doors down from their room, he promptly shut the large doors behind them. Lea’s heart-rate slowed as she slowly took in their surroundings. She could make out all four sides to the room and the windows against the back helped illuminate the darkness, driving the shadows which threatened to swallow her away.

She let go of Feyd’s arm then and he watched her, studying her reaction to being in a new room for the first time in months. She hadn’t collapsed in on herself yet, but he wondered if it was all her, or if the pill he had given her for her anxiety played some part in it. Perhaps both.

She began to wander and wind through the bookcases, Feyd’s steps following closely behind her own. She pulled this book and that from the shelves, perusing, looking for a few novels to take back with her.

Her sheer skirt clinged to her naked body and her twin’s cock hardened at the sight of her being completely on display for all to see. He’d never caught them, but he was sure more than one guard had taken her in, her pert breasts, her round ass, her perfect cunt—his absolute favorite part of her which he never stopped thinking about. The thoughts that constantly circulated within his mind were all the things he wanted to do to her. The things he wanted to shove inside her cunt, just to see what her reaction might be. Even now.

Feyd pressed his chest against her back, then ran his hands under her gown, squeezing her ass in his grip. She laid her head back against him, closing her eyes. He then slid his hands higher, to her hips, then higher still, until he had both her breasts in his palms. He tugged gently against the clamps he had placed on her nipples and she moaned in the back of her throat. He tugged again and again and again, and she felt herself growing wetter with each tug.

Feyd took her hand, leading her over to an empty table and he gripped both of her hips, lifting her onto it. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, but before she could pull away, he gripped the back of her head and crushed his lips against her own. She opened her mouth, allowing him entry and he flicked his tongue against hers over and over.

Finally, he pulled away and took her in. She had grown so thin. He intended to rectify that as time went on. He wanted her hips and breasts and ass full and healthy like they had been.

“Lie back.”

She did as her twin told her.

Feyd ran his hand from between her breasts, to her stomach, to her sex, then used both his hands to trail down her thighs, all the way down to her ankles, which he gripped, placing both her feet flat upon the top of the table, spread wide.

Lea’s heart pounded with excitement at whatever her older brother was about to do to her.

Feyd reached up to the neckline of her gown and ripped it open in one swift motion.

Lea’s mouth fell open. This one had been one of her favorites...

“What will I wear back to our room?”

Feyd smirked, then shrugged. “I suppose nothing, darling.”

Heat settled between her legs.

Feyd stepped away from her for a moment, disappearing around the edge of one of the shelves and Lea waited patiently. She heard the sound of a drawer opening, then closing and she tugged gently at both of her nipple clamps waiting for him to return to her. Her wetness was slipping down her ass and onto the table by the time he returned.

She lifted her head, looking at him standing at the edge of the table, something glinting in his right hand.

Her brows furrowed as he set it down.

Feyd dropped into the seat behind him, then scooted it forward, making himself comfortable before he got to work. He quickly pulled his cock from his pants, not bothering to pull them down. Just wanting some relief as his erection was now straining painfully against the material.

He reached forward, spreading Lea’s lips between her legs open with two of his fingers and groaned as he watched her clench.

He picked up one of the slim silver pens he had found in a nearby drawer and slipped the bottom-end of it into her.

She jerked at the cold feeling of the metal entering her, then relaxed.

“Stay still,” Feyd said, and she didn’t dare argue.

He slipped in another and watched as the two pens bobbed as her walls clenched once, then twice.

He slipped in yet two more and she whimpered, liking what was being done to her. She always enjoyed when Feyd filled her to her limits, if not sometimes a bit past it.

Lea stretched her arms above her head and arched her back, spreading her legs wider for him and Feyd hummed his approval as she lowered herself back down onto the table. She started gently pulling against her nipple clamps once again as Feyd slipped another pen inside her eager cunt.

That made five, and he knew she was wet enough to take a few more easily.

He slipped in two more at the same time and Lea sighed, wishing he would play with her clit. She knew better than to do so herself. She’d only tried that once while they were being intimate together and he’d told her sternly she was never do so again, that that part of her was for him alone to touch and she had nodded, indicating that she understood.

She’d gotten punished thoroughly, however, the day Feyd had come into their room and saw that she’d been busy playing with herself without his knowledge or permission. Her right hand had been rubbing away between her legs, fingers plunging in and out of herself, a pillow placed under her hips.

She’d been so engrossed in pleasuring herself that she hadn’t even noticed her twin, who was now seething, standing at the side of the bed. She’d been broken from her near-orgasm at the sound of something shattering against the wall. She’d jerked and yelped, now-frightened, and the expression on Feyd’s face had been one of pure rage.

She quickly removed her hand from between her legs, but there was no trying to hide what she’d been doing. Feyd had climbed on the bed and she tried to scoot away from him, now afraid, but he’d gripped her hips, yanking her back down to him. All she could do was stare up at him as he seethed, his anger palpable, rolling off of him in waves.

All was deathly quiet for a few minutes, until, finally, he gripped her cunt painfully in his hand, his eyes boring into her own as she withered underneath his gaze. “This belongs to me. It is my property. Mine to do with as I wish. It is for only me to touch, and me alone. I own it. If you need relief, you come find me. You will never touch yourself like this again without my knowledge. Is that understood?”

She nodded over and over again, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Say it,” he commanded, with acidity.

“I understand, I’ll do whatever you say.”

He nodded, then gripped her hips and threw her onto her stomach while he lowered himself onto her calves, holding her into place as he spanked her ass red and raw until she couldn’t sit down for a solid week afterward. He then flipped her back over and spanked her cunt until she was sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe and it was beyond raw, swollen and blood-red. Feyd had fingered her brutally then until she bled, his fingers covered in it, and came so hard she screamed in agony at the feeling.

Any temptation to touch herself after that day was more than removed. She had learned her lesson.

So, Lea lied there as Feyd shoved pen after pen into her, until the count was up to ten and she was sure she couldn’t take anymore.

Her twin’s own heart pounded, appreciating the view before him of his own doing. Her hole stretched nearly to its limits, full.

He had three pens left and shoved another in and Lea’s head shot up, looking down at Feyd. “Feyd, please, I don’t think anymore will fit. It already hurts.”

He glanced up to her. “There’s only two more left. Can you not handle it?” He asked, twirling one between his fingers.

She considered him for a moment, then concentrated on just how full she currently felt. She brought one of her hands down between her legs and lightly brushed her fingertips over all the pens currently sticking out of her. She then leaned back on that same arm. “I don’t think so.”

Feyd considered her for a moment, then nodded and she let out a sigh of relief, lying back down.

Feyd leaned back in his chair and pulled his pants down, stroking his cock at the beautiful sight before him.

Lea knew what he was doing just from the sound alone and she felt her walls clench, causing Feyd to chuckle at the sight of the pens bobbing half-in half-out of her. She was just grateful she had something to clench around, even if it was something rather unusual. But she liked it; it felt good to her.

Feyd had only tried it himself a handful of times before, but he wished for something to put in himself now as well, feeling it was only fair.

He stood, walking back to the desk from before and removed a thin letter opener. He returned to his seat from before and sat. He used the grip of it and gradually eased it into the slit at the opening of his cock. It was painful, yes, but it only made it all the better for him.

He kept stroking, watching as Lea’s tight walls kept those pens bobbing every few seconds, her hands fondling her breasts. Once he was close, he removed the letter-opener, letting it clatter to the floor and he stood, stroking furiously before he came all over his sister’s stomach.

Lea looked up at him lovingly. “Do you feel better now, brother?”

Feyd’s lips twitched. “Nearly.”

He never stopped stroking, despite his cock protesting against him. But the pain of it, turning him on all the more, his skin hot, made him come quickly yet again, this time on Lea’s naked breasts. Finally, when he came a third time, it was on her outstretched tongue, some of it shooting into the back of her throat.

She had licked her lips, savoring the taste of him and Feyd had gently gripped the back of her head, bringing her closer to his throbbing cock and she swallowed him whole, cleaning him with her tongue, swirling it around him this way and that, the only sounds to fill the silence around them being that of her sucking him off.

Feyd threw his head back, bucking his hips, making her gag, then settling again as she continued her steady rhythm. He thought with a wry smirk that her having two out of three holes filled at once wasn’t too bad.

He had trained her so well.

Finally, his lust got the better of him and he gripped the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair, and began to fuck her mouth. Brutally.

She gagged and choked and struggled to breath—tears stinging her eyes at the inability to—but Feyd kept wildly bucking his hips, shoving his thick cock in and out of her mouth until a few seconds later he came, her throat filling with hot cum.

When he removed himself, she gasped for breath, sputtering and coughing through his seed.

She wasn’t upset, however. Sometimes he liked doing things roughly. Sometimes she did, too.

Feyd removed her gown from under her and used it to wipe the spit and cum from around her mouth, then threw it onto the floor. He walked around to the edge of the table where all eleven pens were still lodged firmly inside of her, and gripped them all in his fist.

She shot up, however, gripping his wrist in her own. “Don’t.”

Feyd looked at her with a raised brow, surprised.

“You want me to leave them?”

She nodded, a blush creeping onto her cheeks and breasts.

Feyd smiled wickedly. “So be it.”

He did, however, shove them a bit further in, then pulled them back toward him, then repeated the motion over and over again, and she moaned his name, tangling her fingers in her hair. Her walls gripped them all so tightly, so firmly in place. He hummed his approval.

He stopped for a moment and watched as they bobbed and bobbed as her walls continued to clench from the stimulation. Feyd wanted to take her back to their room and stay up all night seeing what other sorts of things she’d enjoyed being shoved and fucked inside of her.

He helped her down from the table, her gown ruined and in tatters on the floor, her cunt filled to the brim, and her skin covered in his dried cum.

He took her hand in his and grabbed the books she had chosen, placing them under his opposite arm before he opened the doors to the library and they exited.

The feeling of utter fullness between Lea’s legs was enough to distract Lea on their way back to their bedroom from instead focusing on the space around them.

Once Feyd unlocked the door, he allowed Lea to enter first, and when he glanced over his shoulder, a feeling of being watched suddenly present, he saw their mother halfway down the hall, knew she had seen his twin covered in him, something protruding from her young cunt.

He gave her a satisfied smile before following Lea inside, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

Lea sat back on the bed, her legs spread apart, hoping Feyd would come give her some form of relief, her clit now swollen. Instead, he went into the bathroom and drew a bath for her. As the water ran, he returned to her, kneeling before their bed where she sat and slowly remove the pens one by one, dropping them onto the floor, until her cunt was just a gaping hole needing desperately to be filled.

Slowly, he eased his fist inside of her and she groaned in satisfaction. He used two fingers to massage her vaginal walls and her toes curled at the sensation. He kissed her clit and she whimpered. “Please, Feyd.”

“Not right now.”

She threw her head back in frustration.

After a few more strokes of his fingers inside of her, he removed his fist and she pouted at the sudden feeling of being empty.

Her twin simply offered her his hand and guided her into the bathroom.

#fic: dune (feyd‚oc)#dune fanfic #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic #dune fanfiction #fey rautha fanfiction #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfiction #t: longfic

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basicallyjaywalker · 4 months

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Wanna ramble about a moment/character in ninjago you think people need to talk about more?

I don't know who you are anon, but I'm glad you asked!

I am desperate for people to character-analyze Wu. I'm desperate for a lot of character analysis including Nya but since I got a lot of my Nya feelings out with some lovely folks the other night (edit: the other night was a month ago dw about it. this took a minute) I'm going with Wu this time

Master Wu to me is such an interesting case of a character who it is so easy to ignore the bits of the show that hint at his wider issues and traumas. He is a man defined heavily by his family and by his past. A lot of criticism he gets, I think, is due in part to that.

I've mentioned before that I've been rewatching S1 with a friend of mine and intermittently pausing to infodump on them about interesting character things I notice from that season. A lot of that has been Wu-focused because despite having seen RotS dozens of times throughout my life (watching it on CN, watching it on Netflix when only it and Legacy were around, rewatching it with friends) I have only just started noticing the seeds of character written in.

I might also just be reading too much into things, but hear me out

In S1 (and by extension, the pilots), Wu is characterized as your typical old wise teacher. In the first few minutes of EP1: Rise of the Snakes, he is chewing out the Ninja for playing video games instead of training. The line he uses? "Never put off until tomorrow what can be done today."

It's a line that gets repeated throughout the series. In fact, it gets repeated that very episode when the ninja go (pun not intended) to fight the Hypnobrai and a literal pre-teen. At first, it seems to just be a piece of wisdom. Some old proverb Wu's picked up over the years, possibly one he even coined himself. However, in EP7: Tick Tock, Wu tells the story of who, possibly, first told him this.

(Source: Tick Tock/Transcript | Ninjago Wiki | Fandom, highlight added.)

It was Garmadon. Now, I'm not gonna dwell too long on Garmadon, if you spend five minutes talking to me you'll learn he was the first character whose story I obsessed over and I want this essay to be about Wu, but I think he plays a role in Wu's overall story, as does Wu's family as a whole.

Prior to this, Wu and Garmadon's relationship has been more of a sibling rivalry taken to a good vs. evil extreme. We didn't know why Garmadon was evil and we didn't know about Wu and his relationship as kids. However, this scene establishes the backstory. They were, as Wu puts it, "the best of friends." That is, until Garmadon gets bit by the Devourer going to get the katana Wu lost.

Now, I know the Devourer bite was destined to happen because of the Overlord or some shit, but Wu doesn't. As far as he's concerned, Garmadon getting bit was a direct consequence of both his mistake and his cowardice. He lost the katana. He was too scared to get it. Garmadon went over instead. Garmadon got bit.

The scene goes on to show the FSM tending to Garmadon in the aftermath. Wu is watching from behind the door, likely told to stay back, but concerned. And in his POV, we get this intense moment, where Garmadon turns, looks directly at him (his eyes turning bright red for the first time), and says "It's all Wu's fault!"

(This clip should begin at the start of Wu eavesdropping. If it doesn't, skip to 0:58. I highly recommend also paying attention to Wu's body language during this scene.)

The camerawork does a great job of showing how this probably felt for Wu. It zooms in, Garmadon's voice echoes, and the background blurs. We see in the flashback that this is a moment Wu has etched into his memory. Not to mention, he was likely a very young child when this happened. LEGO characters' ages are weird, but Wu in this scene has the Big Eyes, which always seem to be used for characters under 12. We don't know exactly how much older Garmadon is to my knowledge, but he doesn't have the Big Eyes, so he's probably closer to 12 and a few years older than Wu for sure.

Imagine that. Being in elementary school and your older siblings gets hurt. They're acting strange. They're lashing out at your father. Then, they blame it all on you. They're hurt because of you. Wouldn't you internalize that?

I could go on about Wu's relationship with Garmadon, but again, I think I've spent enough time on it and I don't want to only focus on that. It's an important part, but there are others.

Let's talk about Wu's relationship with his dad.

Now, I have not yet read the Spinjitzu Brothers series. I cannot speak to any development of Wu and the FSM's relationship in there. I have, however, read The Book of Spinjitzu and blogged some of my thoughts on it here, including some of what it says about Wu.

For those who haven't read it, first, there is a Google Drive folder floating around with all of the canon spinoff books/graphic novels in it. Here's the link if you wanna read them!

The FSM is an... intriguing figure. I mean, in the series he's basically god? He made the entire world. That's already a very high bar to live up to. Then, in Book of Spinjitzu, there's a few specific parts that, when I read them, signaled that Wu internalized a specific message when he was young.

(Source: The Book of Spinjitzu, Page 3).

Wu does not want to disappoint his father. It is up to him (and Garmadon until he turns evil) to "uphold the legacy of Spinjitzu" and, by extension, his family. He says he was "very young" when this was explained to him. Considering he seems to already be training at an elementary age, "very young" means VERY young.

(Source: The Book of Spinjitzu, Page 16).

Here, we again see Wu being very aware that he has some large burden to carry. Something else interesting here is that the thought of the Green Ninja Prophecy is already weighing on him too. His considering if he might be the Green Ninja is of extra interest because of how the Green Ninja Prophecy and the--I wouldn't call it obsession, possibly fixation?--with who it is factors into his later actions, but we'll get to that later.

(Source: The Book of Spinjitzu, Page 19).

This one in particular gets me because it comes after Wu mentions Garmadon becoming more evil. It is a statement of power. Wu knows that the legacy of Spinjitzu now rests in his hands alone. He cannot let himself fall the way Garmadon did. He cannot disappoint his father. Whether or not the FSM intended it, Wu always knew the fate of the world rested, at least in part, upon his shoulder. He knew this from the time he was a young boy and it remains in his mind to this day.

Now, these quotes are indirect, but they all point to one clear idea: As a child, Wu internalized the idea that he alone is responsible for keeping Ninjago safe. He will play a pivotal role in its history.

There's not evidence in this book that the FSM's was a bad father, per se. However, just because one doesn't set out to harm their children, doesn't mean they won't. I often say Wu has an "Atlas complex," which I have no idea if it is an actual concept but use it to refer to this idea. Wu feels as though he is responsible for holding up the world, much like Atlas. He must keep the balance, he must solve the Green Ninja prophecy, he must make his father proud.

(Source: The Book of Spinjitzu, page 61).

I'm going to get further into what this means for Wu as a teacher to the current Ninja Team, but for now let's look at Wu's first foray into teaching.

Morro. Wu's Biggest Mistake.

That might seem like an overstatement, but it's not.

(Source: Ghost Story/Transcript | Ninjago Wiki | Fandom)

Okay he says regret, not mistake, but I was paraphrasing.

Let's turn back to his quote about his destiny. Wu writes, "Is my life's mission to be the Green Ninja? Or maybe it will be to find the Green Ninja and protect him (or her)??"

From a very young age, Wu was not only aware of the Green Ninja but prophecy but also thinking about his place in it. We see this again when he takes Morro in and trains him.

(Source: Ghost Story/Transcript | Ninjago Wiki | Fandom, highlight added)

A big thing Wu is criticized for here is making Morro believe he is meant to be more. That he is the Chosen One. And Morro, being a young homeless orphan just now given some semblance of power and protection, latches onto that. And I can see it, but when you take into account the above that he was trained from (likely) a younger age than Morro and given a similar level of responsibility, it becomes more understandable. Wu is just doing what he was taught. He doesn't believe that he is harming Morro until it is too late.

youtube

This is the entire story, but I'm specifically going to be discussing 1:36 onwards here. I also wanted to add that rewatching this scene made me lay down on the floor! What the fuck! But I digress.

There's a lot going on in this scene. For one, Wu washing his hands of Morro in some ways, but not others. He turns his back on Morro when he tells him that destiny has decided, but looks at him again when Morro storms out. He goes to save Morro from the Grundal, but decides that he cannot "teach those who would not listen." Most importantly, when Morro leaves to go find the Tomb of the FSM, Wu leaves the door open. He waits for Morro to return, but never goes after him. And Morro never comes back.

Wu gives Morro's fate a dismissive response at the end of his ghost story ("I am saddened he was banished to the Cursed Realm") but it's clear he still cares deeply about him in the finale of the season.

youtube

Wu's VA in this is phenomenal btw. That "Please Morro!" and "MORRO!" make my heart ache.

Morro believed Wu stopped caring, but he didn't. Even after all he's done, even after trying to destroy all of Ninjago--destroying what Wu had spent his life trying to protect--Wu tries to save him. He begs for Morro to come with him. Morro refuses, Wu watches him perish.

Someone else Wu is close to is gone. Wu again considers himself responsible. Everything is his fault.

And finally, we reach Wu today. A cautious, secretive man. He loves his students, this much is clear. Even as early as the pilots, he drops his wise teacher persona to joke around with them.

youtube

As with Morro, he trains them like his father did him. He even uses the same methods his father used when he trains them.

(Source: The Book of Spinjitzu, page 32)

youtube

While he is hard on the Ninja, wanting them to succeed and training them to help defend the Realm, he lets his guard down more than it seems he did with Morro. He also learned a valuable message from his experience with Morro when he hides the Green Ninja Prophecy from the Ninja, getting angry when they start to push themselves in the same way Morro did upon learning about it. It's clear he doesn't want a repeat.

Now, I can't speak for later seasons (I will eventually) but this fear of repeats, his students going down a dark path because they're tempted by power or greatness, losing someone else, likely drives Wu not telling them other important information. That is just a passing thought though.

Final notes:

I'm currently in the process of rewatching S7: Hands of Time. I actually got this ask right after finishing EP68: Scavengers, which opens with Wu having a nightmare. In it, he and Misako are walking outside of Yang's temple. While walking, Misako delivers this line in response to Wu reminiscing about the time they've spent together:

(Source: Scavengers/Transcript | Ninjago Wiki | Fandom)

This line, to me, is Wu's subconscious trying to tell him something he needs to hear. It's hinting at what might be his greatest flaw. Wu is haunted by his past, by his mistakes. He finds it difficult to tell others because of both his guilt and his desire to not put that worry upon them. In this very season, he makes the mistake of trying to face his past on his own, and he nearly dies for it.

In the same episode, you see Wu trying to make sure Lloyd doesn't make the same mistakes.

(Source: Prev)

Wu stresses the important of the team. It's as if he sees Lloyd blaming himself for what happened to Wu, sees him doing the same thing Wu has, and is trying to prevent him from doing the same thing. This is further emphasized when, after Wu falls asleep (well, fakes falling asleep), Lloyd says "Wu's mistake was going in alone. So was mine."

Master Wu is, like many characters in this show, someone who is more complex than meets the eye. He is not just a wise, old teacher. He is a man who, throughout his life, has made mistakes and carries the weight of each of them on his shoulders. He is a man who tasks himself with making up for those every day. He is a man who wants better for his students, his family.

Until the day he dies, he will guide and protect his students. And possibly? Even after death too.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #master wu #long post #anon tag #this made my day i looooooooooooooove character analysis #i know a lot of what i post about it may not encompass the full series but i just think that makes it more fun tbh #i'm working with what i have and later i may come back to this and add even more things #i'm also very passionate about wu analysis as a former wu hater because i think the fact that his character stuff is so buried #leads to a lot of the hate #Why didn't he tell the ninja things? well he told morro things and look how that turned out #he grew up believing the weight of the world was on his shoulders #in one way or another #i won't lie and say the man does not make mistakes #but like i mention in s7 when he does he is fucking haunted by them #he is not breaking the generational trauma but he is damn well making an attempt for someone who probably doesn't realize he has it #p.s i tried to add image desc to each ss to make it more accessible but if i messed it up please let me know!#i spent way too much time on this #somebody do a word count i'm curious but too tired to copy this all into docs #falls over #part 2 of this is just the dark island trilogy but i think i'm gonna wait to do that #this took so long and the words are now refusing to words #thank you for reading #i need to take a nap after writing this I feel physically spent #please enjoy another rook branded ramble disguised as a comprehensive essay #other essayists bring you professionalism and academic vibes #i scream into the void and put way too many links o7 #happy birthday ninjago!!!! i finished this in honor of you hopefully it is worthy

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jessaerys · 1 month

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your fav mello/near fics??? thank yeww (also love your drawings!)

oohh this reminds me i should pick up my ff.net archival reclist project up again...

it is of note that it's been a looooong while since i've combed the archives and there's a couple of common tropes i don't usually read due to personal taste, so i'm sure there's a lot of good fic i'm unaware of and/or forgetting about! this has totally renewed my interest in making a comprehensive personal reclist >:) perhaps i'll come back and edit this post every now and then.

i owe comments to nearly everyone mentioned here i am SO sorry. it's a lost skill that i am working on developing again. at the very least i've got everyone in one place so i can go down the list this year. i encourage everyone reading from this reclist to leave a comment too!

i wrote "off the top of my head" but this got VERY long so under the readmore it goes

obligatory classics

• the famous @tierfal 's sidetracked (2010) and full of surprises (2009). rated e and m respectively. these are like the allegorical little black dress in the wardrobe of the platonic ideal of the mellonear oneshot. seem to be pretty well known across the ship fandom • stripped (2009) by blueberryash/@tka-trashfire on tumblr. explicit. i haven't read this in a while but i remember it capturing the delicate gossamer tension of the ship in a way that was sooo bittersweet and nostalgic. • to speak of rules and privilege (2008) also by blueberryash/@tka-trashfire, gen, a manifesto on tenderness, soooooooooo soft, changed the game, near being afraid of thunderstorms was immediately adopted into personal canon. big time influence for the way i write near and mello's pre-canon relationship re: big brother, little brother. • an understanding (2008) by blueberryash/@tka-trashfire, rated T, short and sweet, razor sharp prose, the aesthetics of the little piece live rent free in my head. • dual(2011) by ramasi, @ramasi here i believe. rated m. historians say this might be one of the first examples of mellonear choking kink ever recorded,

•scarification (2012) by gacrux11 on fanfiction.net, rated m, big time dead dove do not eat. sorry this one leans early 2010s era grimdark melodrama but i love it sjkdfkjfd. not enough dead dove fics about the boys if u ask me. • salt in the wound (2007) •tempus fugit (2007), and • white out (2006) by vaudevillain king on fanfiction. net. a beloved rare find. all of them are rather grimdark edgy products of their era, but some of the best the era had to offer. they make me so nostalgic for my teenagehood on fanfiction.net. i get the impression these might've been written even before death note was finished? • birthday smut (2009) by kleine_aster on livejournal. explicit. this one is SO funny to me because it is both really, really good, very in character, but unfortunately it suffers from almost satirical misogyny that afflicted fujoshis back in the day. near literally is like oh that bitch... like. he would not fucking think that but i can edit quickly in my brain as i read. bisexual mello rights! otherwise really sexy imo. i might be writing something that's kind of in conversation with this fic.

RARE finds

(please tell me if you enjoy any of these, i want to feel like an explorer that's brought back treasures from far away lands)

contemporary favorites:

• you've heard about it before and you will hear about it again: the archer ensnared (2023) by jabbernatty, rated e. a jessaerys obligatory syllabus read, the fic that made me go fulltime yaoi disease. i owe so much to jabbernatty they are my white whale my friend my enemy the writer i've psychically imprinted on from the beginning. honestly too scared to even leave a comment given the jessarys archer ensnared lore. may one day may contact and pray i don't come across as insane • postmortem (2023) by the_hemlock true gen, a favorite of ALL time. it's only tangentially mn really, it is 99% about near trying to piece together the mystery of lawlight post-canon, but the characterization and prose are some of if not the best i've ever come across. reads like it could be a piece of canon material. if you only read one fic on this list i'd pick postmortem. • it's friday i'm in love by neallo/@neallo rated m. possibly my all time fave in the neallo cinematic universe. something about the after-hours longing and the standing in the kitchen by the refrigerator lights, as the poets say. i love when stories feel like you're cutting out a window to peer into a larger universe that is just out of reach. perfectly captures what it is like to have a maddening crush • i want to hold you (hostage)(2023) by neallo/@neallo rated e. thee defining fic of this current modern mellonear era. manages to walk the line of kinky/sexy/sweet/fluffy all at once. plot twist of the century in the last chapter. near is properly as bananas insane as mello is in this fic, which is the marker of a good mellonear dynamic. really everything by morgan neallo is a safe bet for a great read • there's nothing i want but you (2023) by neallo/@neallo rated t. wammy's era mellonear obsessiveness that is soooo teenagery and yet a portent of just how codependent they might one day get. cute and ominous. • armageddon/kill game (2024) by bolide/@bolide-archive came out of nowhere a couple of months ago and ascended to the top of the game like a dark horse. rated m, chess au. one of my favorite interior mello narrations and one of the most similar to my own interpretation. such naturally talented prose. i rotate lines from this in my head all the time. still in progress but i have faith that it will be completed :') • how to burn down the sacred loom (2023) by dornishviper/@vriskarlmarx a contemporary CLASSIC. the less you know going in the better. beautiful prose, beautiful structure. they don't make fic like this anymore • the house always wins (2023) by mer_curia/@vivi-scera. screaming with my mouth closed. holds a special place in my heart given that it is my posting that convinced vi to give the ship a try, and i was rewarded with a fic that is so catered to my tastes i honestly had to read it through my fingers. SO good, the manifesto on wammyscest, so rather controversial. heed the warnings. • moonlight (2023) by tsukinousagi/@quicktimeeventfull rated t. an austere, cold little glimpse into a vampire au. it's giving let the right one in. so melancholic. one of the saddest near examinations out there. •proximity tells (2018) by abysmallypresent, rated m. truly lives up to death note's second-by-second minutia while managing to keep up the tension the entire time. great characterization. •silhouettes (2015) by bad blood/eroticcodependence, @wxmmyshouse on tumblr. unrated, post-canon compliant. made me CRY! elegantly short and simple, bittersweet and so so wistful. •arsonist's lullabye (2023) by tzviaariella/@tzviaariella. rated t. this one has a heart-wrenching air of realism to it that exists outside the chaotic universe of death note, one of those examinations of picking up the pieces after the titans have all gone away. very bittersweet.

honorary mentions

• let's die somewhere prettier (2020) by firesafinething also one of my absolute favorites, unfortunately it is discontinued and it is likely it will never be completed. sad! the premise seemed SO promising. in my mind i file it right next to postmortem mentioned above. the exploration of the tragedy of 27 year old near we could have had in a better timeline. one day i will leave a comment so good maybe it will bring back the fic from the land of the dead • august underground by me & @firebuggg rated e, in progress. >:) (shamless self promo)

#death note #meronia #mello dn #near dn #mihael keehl #nate river #mello #near #fic recs #this took so long to compile dfkgjfdjkgfdjk

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just-your-average-tangerine · 1 year

Text

This is reviews and ratings for the narrative/ fiction podcasts I have/ am listening to. This is mostly for me but if you want to use this as a recommendation go for it but be warned I'm not talking about plot or giving a description, there's no mentions of potentially triggering material so do your own research first if that's something your concerned about.

Welcome to Night Vale

-Night Vale owns my entire ass, no one does it better. I've been listening since the beginning and while I do think the quality has dipped a bit in the last few years its still really good. 9/10

The Magnus Archives

-Nearly perfect. Holds up and even improves with subsequent listens. The final season drags a bit imo but worth it in the end. 9/10

Old Gods of Appalachia

-really good story, gives you a lot to keep track of character wise but is written well enough that its not too hard and you can still follow the story if you forget some. 8/10

Moonbase Theta Out

-I can't wait for this to be over. Unfortunately, the storyline has a chokehold on me, and i need to know how it ends. Otherwise, i wouldn't be listening anymore. While there are several pretty good voice actors, there's enough bad ones that it's hard to listen to. Took the idea that characters should be flawed a little too far and made nearly every character completely insufferable. Nearly everytime a character is being given critical and emotional information it cuts away, in what I assume is an attempt to save the audience from listening to the same information over and over again, but instead it deprives the audience that look at how the character reacts to the information, which could go a long way in making them seem more fleshed out, instead you only see them emote in angry outbursts or melodramatic soliloquies (which is not helped by the subpar acting). 2/10

Death By Dying

-pretty funny but I don't think there's been enough episodes to make a educated review or rating

Hello from the Hallowoods

- very good overall. Good story, heartfelt and well written. Percy's story hits close to home for me, which sometimes makes me mad because he comes across as very weak and insecure and it gets on my nerves. But honestly that's less of a problem with the Percy or the writing and more of a problem of him being one of the very very few trans masc characters in existence so its extra disappointing when i find him irritating. Polly owns my ass, I would die for him. 8/10

Where the Stars Fell

-I binge listened up to the current season which I feel wasn't the way to go but it's still pretty enjoyable. 6/10

Midnight Burger

-Very funny. I love the characters and their dynamic and just the idea of a time a space traveling diner, it's beautiful. The beginning of this new arc confused me a bit but it's starting to come together. 7/10

We Fix Space Junk

- Very funny but with the underlying terror of what's going on with automnicon. Looking forward to new episodes. 6/10

The Sheridan Tapes

-started really strong but has been spending too much time on the characters agnst and not enough time actually progressing the story. At this point I'm just looking forward to a conclusion. 4/10

Camp Here and There

- it was pretty good, nothing exceptional but not bad but then I took a single glance at what was going on in the fandom and it was so obnoxious that it immediately ruined it for me. I feel bad lowering the rating due to the fandom but like, yikes. 2/10

SCP Readings

-very entertaining, easy to follow even if you don't have any prior knowledge about scp, which I do not. 7/10

The Amelia Project

-I think I'm to early in this one to make a solid judgement but I enjoy it so far. Venerio haunts me.

#fiction podcast #welcome to night vale #wtnv #the magnus archives #tma #old gods of appalachia #moonbase theta out #death by dying #hello from the hallowoods #hfth #where the stars fell #wtsf #midnight burger #we fix space junk #the sheridan tapes #camp here and there #scp readings #the amelia project #op

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kanmom51 · 1 year

Text

Letter - the lyrics that didn't make it

The draft lyrics that didn't make the final cut.

Who hugged me tightly

Only you who Protected me

Who only protected me

Who held my hand

Who held my hand tightly

You who reached out me

who held out your hand to me

Who held out his hand

To you who looked at me greatly

Funny thing.

I had this one open on my laptop, I was sure I posted this, but hadn't (?), and good thing I hadn't yet.

Because since I put this together I came by @minggukieology 's post. I think that she explains just how important the wording here is and just how intimate JM's words in this draft were.

This part especially hits hard:

As we've all seen today once more (with the Face playlist) JM is very very calculated in the sense that he puts thought into everything he expresses artistically. Like Philip Johnson's piece was not there by mistake or randomly placed, so was his use of that word in that context.

The one and only...

Kind of hard for me to get that one out of my head.

But he didn't use those words in the final lyrics because of just how obvious it would be.

K-JKKs are not conflicted here. They don't see this as a letter to army at all.

Knowing language and cultural context is super important. It's also important to understand said context and not utilize it half way to suit a certain theory or narrative you want to put in place.

The name of the song is Letter, not Letters.

Addressed to either Army or JK, can't have it both ways. Either or.

And if we are listening to Karmy, why listen half way? Listen to them all the way.

They know who this letter is addressed to.

They said it perfectly:

It's a letter for JK (a hidden song for a hidden couple), hence JK joining JM in the song too, but it's disguised as a song for Army.

Plausible deniability.

Or has it been such a long time since we've had JM and JK in one frame that we forgot about that one. You know, even when stretching the boundaries doing it in a way that can always allow falling back on a more or less plausible explanation or excuse.

JM is the mastermind in knowing just how far to stretch the boundaries. And with Face and Letter he's stretched them real real far, like rubber band can snap in a second far. Funny how still such a big part of the fandom are unwilling to see his message, his queer coding. At this point I think that even if that rubber band tears/breaks I-army will be standing there holding on to both ends to make sure it doesn't fall apart.

JM and JK are lovers.

JM and JK are intimate.

JM and JK are and have been in a long term love/romantic relationship for years now. In my books, for over 7 years now.

I kind of don't understand those that are unwilling to accept that. Take that extra step from "great friends" to life partners, at this stage.

"Great friends", as close as they may be, don't suck on each other's ears, don't give each other hickey's, don't tattoo the other's name on their hand (if a friend does that, well they need to look real deep inside themselves and understand that it's way more than friendship they are feeling). There are so many other behaviours we see with these two, towards each other and towards others that are clear proof they are not just "great friends". Why is it so hard for some to take that leap? Is it the fear of labeling? These two can't say it out loud. They just can't. Closeted queer couple in SK. Two mega stars months away from enlisting into military service. But with that they have sent us every single possible clue telling us they are queer and a couple. They want those that will accept and support them to see THEM.

Guys, what was TTU Seoul 2019 all about if not their defiance and telling us they are together and want us to love them, accept them?

I digress, I know.

Point being, they are together, a couple, for years, and Letter, it's JM's song for JK, you know, the one he told us in 2016 that he would write to the person he loved. His forever person.

#Jimin #JM #PJM1 #JM Face #JM Letter #JM Letter draft lyrics

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yaderyngoch · 8 months

Text

I made a comment a while ago about a JayTim Tailor AU, and then the brainworms wouldn't stop so now I've actually written it.

Disclaimer that I'm super new to the fandom so this is my first time writing for it, and I also written one little fanfic in the past 3 years for a different fandom so I am Rusty and they're probably very OOC lol.

Tailor’s shops, Tim had found, were rather soothing places. Quiet and smelling faintly of amber and cedar. His chosen shop was an octagonal room lined with built-in shelves and racks of suits and armoires of darkly stained mahogany. A table in the centre of the room housed a swatch book of different types of wool and lining silks that Tim liked to flip through just to feel the delicately woven fabrics.

On one side of the shop window, there was a mannequin dressed in a half-finished suit, one side left without the facing so onlookers could see the canvas and careful stitching that gave the suit its structure. On the other there was an old treadle sewing machine, though Tim doubted it was still functional. Nevertheless it helped add to the timeless sort of atmosphere of the shop, something that felt so far removed from all the computers and cold artificial displays Tim usually worked with.

He’d been coming to this tailor for a few years now. Bruce had recommended him, and Tim had been coming ever since. There was something calming about the familiarity. Coming in and greeting the salesman who recommended a few suits for him to try on, settling on one that he thought looked best before the salesperson called the tailor out to him. It was always the same tailor, an elderly man with small, quick hands and soft eyes by the name of Lucius Fox.

Tim waited for him now, dressed in a neat blue suit the salesperson had chosen off the rack for Tim. The shop did offer entirely bespoke suits, but Tim had always found that to be much more elaborate than he felt he needed. As long as he looked neat and presentable, it worked for him.

He flipped through that fabric swatch book, tracing fingertips along the pinked edges of soft blue wool and reading the sticker on the back of the previous swatch as though he had any idea what any of it meant. Camel hair, it said. Tim didn’t think the fur of a camel would be particularly soft or good for suitmaking but evidently he was wrong.

“Mr. Drake?” Called a voice from the door to the tailor’s workshop itself, a voice lower and smoother than Tim had been expecting.

Tim looked up to see a man walking towards him, tall and broad with a streak of white through dark hair, a ruler and chalk in one hand and a pincushion secured to the other wrist with a band of black elastic. He’d forgone the jacket of his three-piece suit, the sleeves of his dress shirt neatly rolled up to his elbows, a tape measure draped around his neck. The suit was fitted just enough to display a figure far sturdier than Tim would’ve expected for a tailor, just hints of a broad chest and arms that filled out the sleeves far better than most.

His face was just as chiselled, with sharp green eyes that seemed to shimmer with amusement, the corner of his mouth turning up just slightly.

It took Tim far too long to realise he’d been staring, and he quite quickly flicked his eyes back down to the book before him, feeling warmth rise on his cheeks. “Yes, that’s- uhm.” He cleared his throat. “That’s me.” He looked back up at the Tailor. “Sorry, I just was expecting someone… else.”

The Tailor smiled in something between understanding and amusement. “Yes, Mr. Fox is out for the week so he’s left me to handle the shop. I’ll be taking care of you today.” The blush rose higher on Tim’s cheeks, and if he didn’t know better he’d assume the Tailor was doing that on purpose, with that honeyed voice of his and those smoothly spoken words. “My name is Jason.”

“Tim,” he answered, picking at the band of his watch.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tim,” answered Jason, and Tim was almost irritated at how well such a simple and common name rolled off Jason’s tongue. Jason gestured towards the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror, a platform just a little bit above the ground that made fittings easier, evidently. “Stand up there and face the mirror,” said Jason, tone polite and professional despite the command.

Tim nodded, trying not to follow Jason’s order too quickly and trying even harder not to fidget. He’d gotten better at it over the years. At his first fitting, Mr. Fox had smacked him upside the head with a ruler and told him to sit still. Now though, he had a feeling he’d find it just as difficult to behave as he had back then.

Jason came to stand close behind Tim, and it was with another small amount of irritation that Tim noticed even atop the pedestal, Jason was still slightly taller than him. “Tell me a little more about how you like your suits to fit.” His voice was softer now that they stood closer together, a gentle sound rather close to Tim’s ear. Tim couldn’t tell if he could feel the body heat radiating off of Jason, or if it was his own body that was warming up.

“Well… I’m not really sure I have much of a preference. Mr. Fox just fixed whatever he thought looked bad.” Tim wasn’t particularly meticulous when it came to fashion.

Jason hummed in understanding, stepping back just slightly to sweep his eyes over Tim, analysing the way the suit fit him with a careful, sharp stare. “Well, Mr. Fox is very good at what he does, but between you and I? He's also ancient and tends to prefer older, boxier styles, which I don’t think particularly suit you.” Tim felt rather like a blank canvas, where Jason could see the vision of the finished piece and Tim couldn’t. “You have a much narrower waist than most of the men I see. I think you’d look far better in something that showed that off a little more.”

Tim tugged at the hem of the jacket, trying to see what it was that Jason saw, but as far as he was concerned a suit was a suit and as long as it fit he wasn’t sure the cut of it made much of a difference. It was something to wear to a formal event and want to take off as soon as he got home. As far as he knew, the one he had on already fit fairly well for the most part.

“Here, I’ll show you what I mean and you can see what you think,” Jason continued, stepping closer to Tim again, standing right behind him so that in the mirror he could see his own silhouette overshadowed by Jason’s. Jason stroked gentle fingers up Tim’s spine, a featherlight touch to smooth out the wrinkle at the base of his neck. Tim suppressed a shiver as Jason leaned in close to place a pin to mark where the extra fabric near the collar needed to be taken in.

“Generally, off the rack suits were designed to fit men with far worse posture than you,” Jason explained, moving on to pin the sides of the suit. He sounded… appreciative, nearly praising despite the aforementioned posture making more work for him.

Tim could definitely feel his body heat now, attention narrowed down to where he could feel the delicate brush of skilled fingers along his waist, sliding a pin through the fabric with ease and precision Tim wouldn’t have associated with larger, stronger hands, far less wrinkled than Mr. Fox.

Tim could feel the warmth of Jason’s breath, could see him leaning in close in the reflection of the mirror. Now that Jason wasn’t looking at Tim’s face, Tim couldn’t help but stare at Jason’s, at the piercing, intense gaze, careful and precise in his work. He was much younger than Tim assumed most tailors were, likely only a few years older than Tim himself.

Jason moved to the other side, momentarily placing a hand on Tim’s waist to pull away the fabric needed. Tim wondered what he was thinking, so focused and diligent, fingers so much more skilled than Tim would’ve expected. It was an art, really, and there was beauty in simply watching the way Jason worked, in feeling each gentle brush of fingertips along the fabric, light and delicate and telling of so much skill in those hands. Some part within Tim desperately wanted to ask for more, for a taste of what those feathery sweeping touches promised.

“How does that feel?” Tim snapped his eyes away from Jason’s face and back to his own reflection, reminded quite quickly that Jason was a professional only doing his job and Tim desperately needed to get it together. Jason was reminding Tim that he desperately needed a few things.

“Uh… what?” Tim asked, feeling suddenly rather silly and realising he hadn’t been paying any attention at all to any of the things he was supposed to be paying attention to.

Fortunately, instead of the irritation Tim had been expecting, Jason simply laughed, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “The suit. Does it feel too tight? Too loose?” Oh- right. That was why Tim was here.

He looked at his silhouette in the mirror again, this time actually looking at himself instead of at Jason, and found he quite immediately knew what Jason had been talking about before. More than just fitting him better, Tim felt like he looked more… like himself. Not someone putting on a costume to go play the character of some high-society heir. He looked… really good, and good in a way he hadn’t expected to see in himself.

“Well?” Jason asked, smirk tugging at his lips again. “You seem quite easy to leave speechless, but I would appreciate at least some feedback.”

“Oh- sorry. It feels good. Thank you,” Tim answered, looking back at Jason in time to see his satisfied smile.

“Good,” said Jason, stepping closer again. “Now for the sleeves, I think they’re a little long for you, hmm?”

Tim nodded, knowing at least that much needed to be fixed. The hem of the sleeve was barely above his knuckles. Jason leaned in, left shoulder brushing Tim’s right as he slid one hand past Tim’s hip, one hand on either side of Tim’s.

Tim’s breath hitched, trying to calm the way his heart raced at their proximity. He knew this was part of the fitting, that this was the easiest way for a tailor to roll up his sleeve. Mr. Fox had done it too, but when Jason touched him, it was… different. No- Jason was just doing his job. He was a professional, Tim shouldn’t be thinking these things.

Jason’s index finger brushed Tim’s palm as he started to roll the sleeve up, tucking the excess fabric inward so it looked more like what the finished product might be. He slid two fingers beneath the sleeve to help smooth out the folded edge, the backs of them brushing along the sensitive skin of Tim’s wrist. Tim would be surprised if Jason couldn’t feel his racing heartbeat like this, but if he did, he didn’t say anything of it, simply curling his fingers and bringing them down slightly to bring the sleeve down just a little.

“How’s that?” Jason asked, voice hardly above a whisper now that he was practically speaking in Tim’s ear, their faces only a few inches apart. He slid his fingers out of the sleeve, pulling away again so Tim could examine the length for himself.

“Yeah,” Tim answered breathlessly. “Yeah, I like that.” He realised now that Jason had pulled away, he very nearly felt cold. But at least the distance gave Tim room to catch his breath and chase away those creeping thoughts.

Then, Jason stepped in front of Tim, between him and the mirror, and Tim’s heart stuttered in his chest. Tim had nearly forgotten about how Tailors marked the second sleeve, and he was swiftly reminded when Jason dropped to his knees in front of him.

Tim immediately held his breath, staring directly forward and absolutely refusing to look down.

“You know, I can’t do this if you don’t relax,” Jason teased. It was then that Tim realised he’d balled his hands into fists, and then that he knew that Jason definitely knew what he was doing. He released the breath he’d been holding, unclenching his fists and relaxing his arms at his sides.

Jason hummed in satisfaction, and Tim felt that gentle brush of warm fingers against his own as Jason held the ruler up to measure the new length of the sleeve from the tip of his thumb, sliding a pin into place before repeating the process with the other sleeve. Tim was trying not to tremble, trying to ignore what he could see of Jason in his peripheral vision, trying not to wonder what it might be like if he used that tape measure for something other than its intended purpose.

Finally, Jason stood again, face so close to Tim’s that Tim could make out the different shades of green and blue in his eyes.

“Wonderful,” he said. “Now, if you’d please remove the jacket, it’s time to mark the pants.”

Tim was going to die in this tailor’s shop.

#jaytim #jaytim fic #my fic #my writing #*wordvomits 2k of technical sewing jargon* lick it up baby #I highly doubt there is actual interest in this but that's Okay because I am my own target audience

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