#ive been having so many anxiety attacks because of this

[1ovestay]

i think its kind of comedic how bad my mental health is atm cuz theres literally no reason for it like girl can u grow up

[sansaorgana]

— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (X)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX PART SEVEN || PART EIGHT || PART NINE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC

SUMMARY — Muad'Dib's forces attack the palace during the imperial visit on Arrakis. The new Baroness Harkonnen must face her past and choose her future.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. A month ago (March 6th) I went to the cinema to watch Dune: Part Two and I stayed up until 3am to write the very first chapter of this fic despite having morning classes on the next day. 🙈 I couldn't have known back then what a journey this would be and how many lovely and amazing readers would be so engaged in this story! 💕 This is the final part – but I am willing to write additional one-shots with these characters in the future. Thank you everyone who suggested me the baby names. I went with the idea commented by @alexandrainlove since it made sense to me due to the fact I have already used the name before in this fic. I loved all your recommendations, though! 🥰 Also, I want to credit @houserautha for pointing out that the thick Harkonnen blood (as I have described it in this fic) would actually be an advantage in combat because it would make bleeding out to death more difficult. I know some of you might be disappointed or sad about some events in the last chapter – I decided to go with my original plan for it because, at the end of the day, I can't possibly please everyone anyway. I loved all your ideas and assumptions, though, they made me rethink my plans many times. Love you! 💗

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, violent behaviour, death, murder, childbirth

WORD COUNT — 12,780 (😳)

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THROWN TO THE WOLVES (X)

You watched the imperial ships land through the window with anticipation and anxiety. They were huge and covered in imperial sigils, now covered with the sand and spice. The symbols of power and influence – a reminder of your whole existence being reduced to the subject and a servant. 

Escorted by the guards, you walked down the corridors to greet the guests. Your husband stayed inside to call upon other leaders of the galaxy. Feyd feared that the Emperor had arrived on Arrakis to once again take it from the Harkonnens because of some whim. He wouldn’t let that happen, especially now when it was the first day of his rule as The Baron. Losing such an important planet on the beginning of his reign was a political suicide. But The Harkonnens were in possession of an imperial secret that the Emperor wouldn’t want anyone else to know – his troops had been used to kill the members of the House Atreides… your family. Having other galactic leaders knowing that would mean the end of the Emperor and Feyd-Rautha would not hesitate to threaten him if he was about to take Arrakis from you.

You had just found out that secret and pretended it had not bothered you at all when you walked down the corridor to go outside, accompanied by the guards, with your hand clasped on your abdomen and chin held up high. However, realising the Emperor’s true nature had given you some sort of fighting spirit.

You stood and awaited to face him – The Emperor. The man who was responsible for the death of your family. The next goal of your ambitious game…?

You watched the first men walk out of the imperial ship. The Sardaukar fanatic soldiers caused a shiver to go down your spine. Your few Harkonnen guards suddenly started to feel like little mice locked in a cage with a bunch of fat cats. You almost overlooked The Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV. He was older and weaker than you had expected and remembered from his visits on Caladan. At the sight of him, your mind filled with intrusive thoughts of how easy it would be to  simply… get rid of him.

The Sardaukar soldier’s loud and powerful salute at their Emperor made you shake those thoughts off. Then you spotted two women leaving the ship as well and you started to feel sick when you noticed Bene Gesserit’s Reverend Mother dressed all in black with a veil covering her face.

But you’d recognise her everywhere. You remembered when Lady Jessica had walked you out of your birthday party after turning sixteen. She had taken you to a dark room where this very Reverend Mother had been waiting. Your humanity had been tested in the Gom Jabbar and never before nor after you had experienced such pain in your life. The Reverend Mother had looked at Lady Jessica and uttered out only three words to describe you.

Human… but weak.

You hadn’t gone back to the party. Instead, you had spent the rest of the night by your mother’s grave where your father had eventually found you.

You had been hoping to never see that woman ever again in your life. But here she was now, once again testing you on such a special day as the beginning of your reign.

The other woman was much younger. It was Princess Irulan, daughter of the Emperor. You looked deep into her eyes and she stared back, widening hers. Her dress looked like armour, too.

You had met her only once where you two were children. You had been playing together but she had been very upset at the fact that you had been holding the same title.

“I am not as important as you are, Irulan,” you had been trying to explain to her. “Duke’s daughter is called a Princess but our ranks are not equal. You are an Imperial Princess.”

“I should be the only Princess in the galaxy,” Irulan had pouted at you.

You approached the delegation and bowed down. Technically, you should be kneeling but the late Baron Harkonnen had taught you a few things before his pathetic end. One of them was to always remind the Emperor of the power the Harkonnens were holding. To treat him more as if he was an equal than a superior. You commanded an army bigger than him and your wealth was much more impressive.

“Your Imperial Highness,” you looked up at him and straightened your back. He was staring at you and furrowing his brows, most likely surprised that you were greeting him alone with only a few guards. “Your visit is an honour to us,” you added. “Sadly, we experienced a great loss last night as Muad’Dib’s forces assassinated our beloved late Baron Vladimir Harkonnen,” you faked a shiver of your voice. “Forgive the new Baron,my husband, for not coming out with me to greet you, Your Imperial Highness. He is very busy with his new duties and obligations,” you explained.

The Reverend Mother leaned into the Emperor's ear and whispered something to him. You didn’t like that at all. But he only nodded and raised a hand at his guards to keep following him as he approached you slowly.

“I am very sorry to hear about your loss, Baroness Harkonnen, Duchess Atreides,” he addressed you elegantly and you bowed down again. Once he joined you, you began to walk side by side. His daughter and the Bene Gesserit followed very closely.

“Thank you, Your Imperial Highness,” you faked the sadness of your smile.

“The reason for my visit is the man you have mentioned… Muad’Dib,” he added and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, I am aware that we have not caught him yet but now, after last night’s events… I am sure my husband will do everything in his power to avenge his uncle’s death. Muad’Dib’s days are numbered, Your Imperial Highness,” you tried to assure him. “He is nothing but a terrorist. Not only he slayed our late Baron but also some of the servants and most of the guards.”

“What a miracle that is that you and your husband were spared,” The Emperor pointed out and you could swear that there was a shadow of a smirk on his face.

“Prepare the throne room for The Emperor,” you looked at the servants approaching you and they nodded before running away as fast as possible with their heads held low. Then you turned around to look at The Emperor again. “Not lucky, no. We just weren’t the main target. But I am sure he will be back for us.”

“Forgive me, Baroness, I need to rest after the long journey,” The Emperor nodded at you and you bowed down.

“My servants will show you to your rooms as the throne room is being prepared for you to use it when you are rested, Your Imperial Highness,” you told him and nodded at another pair of servants who had just approached you. “Please, do forgive us for our lack of preparations and today’s chaos.”

“It is quite understandable after such a tragedy,” he assured you and walked away with his daughter and some of the soldiers. The rest of The Sardaukar stayed inside to monitor the corridors.

You turned around, ready to go back to your husband when you almost bumped into The Reverend Mother who had stayed behind you.

“Excuse me,” you faked a smile and tried to walk past her but she stood in your way once again. “What seems to be the problem?” You asked.

“The child inside you was not a part of our breeding program,” she stated casually. You felt your son moving as if he knew she was talking about him. You put your hand on your swollen womb protectively.

“I do not care about your breeding program, with all respect. I just want to give House Harkonnen a male heir,” you explained.

“The child is too powerful,” she told you but her words did not make you proud. They sounded too sinister to take it as a compliment.

“In what way?” You raised an eyebrow. “Am I not weak, Reverend Mother?”

“The Harkonnen medics have overdone themselves, Baroness. Your child does not only have all the best genetic material of your flesh and mind… but of all the Atreides and the Harkonnen families. He will be an unstoppable force if trained properly,” the woman whispered.

“I have already promised you a daughter… under certain conditions. I am not giving you a son,” you hissed.

“That is the point, Baroness. It is a shame your child is a son. But do keep going… If the Harkonnen medics are so advanced already, I cannot wait for the daughter you will give us,” you could spot a smile under the veil as your jaw clenched.

“If I were you, I would fear the day she is born,” you nodded at her and walked away. This time she allowed you to, but she kept staring at you until you disappeared behind the corner to go back to Feyd and tell him about the reason for The Emperor’s sudden visit.

“I have brought back the spice production to full efficiency, Your Imperial Highness,” Feyd explained himself as he was looking up at The Emperor sitting on the Arrakis’ throne with his daughter and The Reverend Mother standing beside him. He had been questioning your husband for the last fifteen minutes, as if it was really an interrogation which would decide whether he should keep governing Arrakis or not.

“Have you, Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen? Or has your late uncle done that?” The Emperor asked.

You were standing a step behind your husband, with your head kept low and your hands clasped on your abdomen, playing a dutiful wife. You knew that showing off your power and influence in front of The Emperor would only make Feyd look even weaker in his eyes.

“He was a great help but I was The Governor of Arrakis, with all respect,” Feyd answered, trying to hide his anger and frustration.

“And what about that idiot brother of yours?”

“Count Rabban has been dismissed. He’s on his way to Giedi Prime now, Your Imperial Highness,” Feyd nodded.

“His problems with the spice production were a result of the activity of the mysterious Muad’Dib… You still haven’t caught him either, have you, Baron Harkonnen?” The Emperor hummed to himself. “And last night he slaughtered your uncle, so I’ve been told… Tell me, what do you know about him?”

“He’s one of the Fremen, I assume. A leader of a terrorist group with great influence,” Feyd explained.

“And you, Baroness?” The Emperor addressed you and you looked up, too, surprised to be included. “I have been told of your influence in the House Harkonnen. Do not play a shy mouse with me.”

You smiled nervously at his words and bowed down slightly.

“I did not mean to play anything, Your Imperial Highness. Please, do forgive me for my sombre mood today after last night’s tragic events…” You batted your eyelashes at him and took a step forward. Now you were arm to arm with your husband. “I do not know more than The Baron about Muad’Dib,” you added as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Liar!” The Reverend Mother exclaimed suddenly and the whole room went silent. Feyd turned his head around to squint his eyes at you and with the corner of your own you spotted a hint of sense of betrayal upon his face.

“I am not a liar, Your Imperial Highness,” you shook your head. “I can not know for certain.”

“But you do have your assumptions,” The Reverend Mother pointed out and you swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of this secret on your shoulders.

“I am suspecting that Muad’Dib might be my brother… Prince Paul Atreides,” you whispered.

“The Atreides are all dead,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth. “That is impossible.”

“So I thought,” you nodded. “But Paul has been haunting my dreams since the first night I came here. After some time I started to realise that they might not be dreams at all… More like visions. He has been communicating with me and it appears to me now that he might have survived in the desert after The Harkonnen invasion,” you avoided looking into anyone’s eyes.

“Why haven’t you told me about those visions?” Your husband’s voice was full of anger and betrayal and it surprised you how much you hated to make him feel this way. After all, you two were supposed to always play on the same team.

“Because I thought they hold no significance,” you finally dared to look into his eyes again. “What does it change who he truly is? And I could not be sure anyway.”

“Why would Paul Atreides communicate with Baroness Harkonnen?” Princess Irulan asked and you looked at her. “Do not misunderstand me, my Lady, but you are no Bene Gesserit. You hold no telepathic power like that.”

“He is not communicating with her,” The Reverend Mother pointed out. “He is communicating with her son. Because if Muad’Dib is as powerful as they say that he is now, then Baroness’ unborn child is the only person who can stop him.”

“Stop him how?” You asked with furrowed brows.

“Your child’s powers are not yet fully known but his presence might be interrupting Muad’Dib’s foreseeing abilities,” she explained.

“Foreseeing abilities?” The Emperor moved uncomfortably on the throne. “What exactly are we dealing with?!”

The timing of those words was not of the best kind as a loud booming sound from the outside reached your ears. Startled by it, you grabbed Feyd’s arm to squeeze it.

“My Lord! My Lady!” One of the engineers from the conference room ran inside, breathing heavily with his eyes widened, not even caring about The Emperor’s presence. “The Fremen… They are using The Atreides’ nuclear weapons to attack us and they are coming at us… Hundreds of them… Thousands… All united as they’re waving The Atreides flags.”

“Duchess Atreides, care to explain?” The Emperor asked you and you looked at him as if he was crazy.

“I’ve had nothing to do with that!” You denied. “I haven’t even been told where my father had hidden the Atreides nuclear weapons. If I had known, they’d be used against the Fremen long time ago, Your Imperial Highness,” you stated.

“It’s Muad’Dib,” The Reverend Mother said. “As he promised to come.”

“Wait, you had an agreement with him?” You asked her but she remained silent. “I thought you wanted him dead.”

“We were curious about him, Baroness,” The Emperor informed you. “We were supposed to have negotiations.”

Another booming sound made you shiver as the walls around you trembled.

“Negotiations, you say,” you drawled. “There you have them,” you pointed at the door. “We don’t have enough guards to protect us from this sort of attack, even with your Sardaukar soldiers, Your Imperial Highness! Most of them were slain last night.”

“And whose was the hand that slayed them?!” The Emperor yelled and you tried to keep your poker face on but you hated the feeling of fear creeping up on you. You thought you would never be afraid again in your life.

But now you were afraid. You were afraid of the Muad’Dib forces outside the palace and you were afraid of The Emperor sitting on a throne above you. He was an old and weak man but his power was still strong enough to cause you harm, especially with his fanatic soldiers surrounding you in the room.

“Fear not,” an odd, unfamiliar voice filled your brain. You furrowed your brow and looked around, trying to reach for the person trying to communicate with you. However, the voice was deep and raspy in a Harkonnen way. It reminded you of Feyd’s but his face looked pretty oblivious. “Fear not, mother,” the voice spoke again and you gasped.

The Emperor thought that you gasped because of his accusation, though.

“I do not care about The Harkonnen’s inside affairs,” he informed you angrily. “However, now we’re all paying the price of your last night’s selfish act!”

You didn’t know what to feel or do. You were overwhelmed with anxiety and the new discovery of your son’s voice being able to communicate with you. The booming sounds were becoming more and more frequent and the Harkonnen guards formed a circle around you and The Emperor alongside the Sardaukar soldiers.

You hid behind Feyd and dug your fingernails into his shoulder. Some part of you wished Muad’Dib was indeed Paul Atreides. Well, he had to be since they were using the Atreides nuclear weapons and flags. Your own brother would not kill you, would he? 

He would understand that everything you had done, you had done to survive. If he had survived in that desert, he would understand everything.

The Emperor, Princess Irulan and The Reverend Mother walked down to stand beside you so the soldier’s circle around you could tighten.

“Can you hear me?” You thought.

“All the time,” your son answered and you smiled slightly to yourself.

It was a comforting thought to know that. 

“Is that true that you’re able to stop Paul?” You asked inside your mind.

“I can try,” he answered. 

“Your voice reminds me so much of your father’s,” you kept talking to him and distracting yourself from the sight of the doors being stormed as a horde of Fremen was trying to get inside the room with the sound of explosions in the distance.

“I am his son,” he answered very seriously and you almost chuckled at the fact he was clearly as rigid as Feyd – so logical and stiff even as an unborn baby.

“Yes, you are, my darling,” your hand, placed protectively on your swollen womb, squeezed the flesh through the dress’ fabric and that was when the doors opened with a loud bang sound and for a short while you thought you would die on Arrakis indeed, where your father’s bones already remained somewhere in the desert. Perhaps it was The Atreides’ fate to die on Arrakis.

But, after all, you were a Harkonnen.

You had not been attacked, though. Once your guards had been defeated, you were all taken to one of the rooms and locked there with the Fremen guards outside ensuring you would not escape. You were waiting for Muad’Dib’s forces to take over the whole palace as you were basically his captives.

Sitting on a chair with Feyd crouching down by your side, you were worried sick about Astra and Cara. You hoped that the Fremen wouldn’t hurt the servants but seeing their brutality and barbaric ways, you weren’t so sure about it. The Emperor was sitting, too, and staring at you with his eyes squinted.

“If that really is your brother, Duchess Atreides…” he started.

“Then what, Your Imperial Highness?” You snapped at him. When his dangerous guards were defeated, he was just an old, weak man and no threat to you. Feyd would slit his throat in half a second.

If he had a knife. But it had been taken away from him and surprisingly, he had been pretty obedient about it. You were grateful because you did not want to watch him getting slaughtered by a whole bunch of Fremen. He was a great warrior but every person had their limits of how many opponents they could take at the same time.

Your knife had not been taken, though. As a woman – especially pregnant – you hadn’t been searched properly and you hadn’t brought up the fact that you had a knife strapped to your hip under all the folds of your dress. Even Feyd didn’t know about it and you wanted it to remain this way. You hoped that you wouldn’t have to use it but you couldn’t be sure and it was better to keep it a secret.

“I can’t be responsible for his behaviour just because I am Duchess Atreides,” you reminded The Emperor.

“If Muad’Dib is really Paul Atreides then you are no Duchess Atreides, Baroness Harkonnen,” The Emperor reminded you. “His actions speak for your House then, not yours.”

“My House is Harkonnen,” you only barked at him and turned your face around to Feyd. You held his hand and he leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead, sensing your nervousness.

“What kind of fighter is your brother?” He asked you in a whisper but everyone could hear him.

“He was bad last time I saw him. Weak and pathetic in combat,” you answered. “But now he is different. He’s been training a lot.”

“How can you know that?” Princess Irulan looked at you, intrigued.

“If we believe my visions, I know he’s been training. If he is Muad’Dib, we don’t even have to believe my visions. Muad’Dib is the only name my brother-in-law fears and he’s the one called Beast Rabban,” you told her.

“He is an abomination,” The Reverend Mother spoke up, “in a different, worse way than the spawn inside you, Baroness Harkonnen.”

“What did you call my son?” Feyd’s muscles tensed.

“Calm down, Baron, she knows what I’m talking about,” the old woman was not bothered by making him angry. “Your son might be the only hope for us. He is interfering Muad’Dib’s foreseeing abilities.”

“I do not like the way you speak of it as if it’s all certain,” The Emperor joined. “If that is true, then I wish I had known about it sooner.”

“Father, there are some secrets that shall be kept even from you,” his daughter tried to calm him down.

“I disagree.”

“We shouldn’t fight now,” you interrupted them. “If we want to survive, we have to work together.”

“And what do you propose, Baroness?” The Emperor asked you with a contemptuous smirk. “He’s a madman, your brother.”

“So is my husband,” you raised your chin proudly. “And do not underestimate me, Your Imperial Highness, as I am the madman’s sister.”

The doors opened loudly and the Fremen warriors looked at all of you with visible contempt that made a shiver go down your body.

“Muad’Dib wishes to see you,” one of them barked at you.

Feyd helped you to stand up and you were taken to one of the rooms upstairs with a balcony and a beautiful view. The sun was setting slowly and giving the whole chamber an orange hue.

Gurney Halleck was the first man you recognised. He was standing in the middle of the room and waiting for you. You honestly hadn’t expected him to survive The Harkonnen invasion.

Seeing your father’s Warmaster broke something in you. It was as if the young Princess Atreides bloomed once again inside your rotten heart. After all, he had known you ever since you were a little girl.

“Gurney!” You smiled and ran up to him, not caring much about Feyd’s hands trying to stop you. The Fremen soldiers reached for their knives but Halleck stopped them with a small gesture of his hand.

“Princess!” He smiled at the sight of you as well and opened his arms. You had never been close – not as close as he had been with your brother at least – but seeing him brought back all the memories and for a short while you thought that finally, after all those months surrounded by the Harkonnens… you were saved.

You hugged Gurney with a wide smile and he fixed a loose hair strand falling rebelliously on your forehead.

“Look at you, Princess… So mature now, aren’t you?” He asked in a whisper. There was pain in his eyes and it brought tears to your own.

He was sorry for you. But he was sorry in a different way than all those late Baron’s guests who had been looking at you as if you were a little, innocent, naive prey. He was Gurney, your Gurney and he had known you. You were his Princess. He was sorry for you because he knew who you had been and who you were supposed to be under different circumstances. He had known your heart. Your whims, your moods, your smiles, your laughter, your dreams, your kindness and your humour. He had known all of you.

And perhaps all this time you had been wanting for someone to be sorry for you. You didn’t want to be admired for your strength and ability to survive, for your cunning mind and your schemes. You just wanted someone to admit that a great pain had been inflicted upon you and it was unfair to happen to you and brought you nothing but suffering.

Before you could open your mouth and answer him, the doors opened and you gasped at the sight of Muad’Dib followed by the Bene Gesserit sisters.

You would recognise his silhouette and his walk everywhere. Your brother, Paul Atreides – it was really him.

Perhaps the shock was not as big as it would be because of the dreams you two had been sharing for the past few weeks.

But was it really your brother…? His hair was longer and curly now, no longer neatly combed, his eyes were blue from the spice and the way he wore his stillsuit felt nearly as if it was his second skin. You had never seen him so angry and confident, so ready to fight and so bloodthirsty.

The Bene Gesserit surrounded their most important one – sitting on a chair with her face covered in tattoos and sheer veils. She looked familiar to you, you thought, and then she laid her own eyes on you – blue from the spice – and you realised it was Lady Jessica.

Throughout the past few months, both of you seemed to significantly rise in power.

“Brother…!” You ran up to him, instinctively, despite everything that was telling you not to trust the man in front of you – he was not your brother, he was a shell of Paul Atreides; filled with hate and anger and a newly discovered hunger for power.

Perhaps you two had more in common now.

“Sister,” he greeted you with a nod of his head and you froze in your place as you were about to give him a hug but he visibly did not want it.

A long, awkward silence occurred between everyone gathered in the room. You tried to keep your chin held up but your head felt heavy at that moment as you realised that there was no home and no family to go back to.

You were not about to be saved by a long lost family. There was nothing to save you from. Giedi Prime was your home and Feyd-Rautha was your family.

Paul looked down with contempt as his eyes fixed on your abdomen. He was visibly uncomfortable with the presence of your son. He had to sense his abilities interfering with his own.

“I’ve been informed that apparently, last night, I have slain my grandfather,” he smirked.

“Your grandfather?” You asked, surprised, and then you laid your eyes on Lady Jessica.

Perhaps that was why you fitted so well with The Harkonnens. You had been apparently raised by one of them.

There were actually many things you wanted to ask her. Why had she taught you how to be able to fight The Voice? Why had she been preparing you for things you were clearly not destined to become? And – most importantly – had she ever had any love for you in her heart?

“I do not mind such accusations,” Paul told you and reached out his hand to caress your cheek. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Feyd’s muscles tensing. Your brother’s touch was surprisingly gentle but it did not feel like Paul at all. And your son was kicking your ribs in a painful way for as long as his uncle’s touch lingered upon your skin. “I have missed you, sister. You never replied to any of my letters.”

“I was not given any letters,” you told him.

“I see,” Paul looked down again, this time he focused on The Atreides signet ring on your pinky finger. “Kneel down,” he ordered and you furrowed your brows.

“Excuse me?”

“Kneel down, Baroness Harkonnen and I shall spare your life,” he expanded his thought. “I feel sentimental today,” he added. “You can live, however your husband and the spawn inside you cannot.”

You felt as if he had just spit in your face. That was more offensive than hurtful and more angering than saddening.

“You’re insane,” you took a step back. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner, Paul Atreides? You’re a Fremen savage terrorist now. I am The Duchess of The House Atreides, The Baroness of The House Harkonnen and I will not kneel down in front of you,” you stated proudly.

“I am The Duke Atreides!” He yelled as you took a few more steps back. “I am the son of Duke Leto Atreides and you are nothing but a spoiled Princess that was thrown out and disposed of to die amongst The Harkonnens!” He reminded you harshly.

“There are ships appearing above the planet,” one of the Fremen interrupted you as he informed your brother. He was staring at a tracking device in his hand. “They are leaders of the Great Houses. Someone had to call upon them earlier.”

“That person has done me a great favour,” Paul smirked mischievously. “I am going to inform them about what you have done to my father, Your Imperial Highness,” he addressed The Emperor with contempt. “And by defeating you, I will take your daughter as my wife and reign as The new Emperor of The House Atreides.”

“Please, don’t! My father is old and weak! You can’t fight him!” Princess Irulan stood in front of her father to cover him with her own body.

“Such a fight will take no place,” you clenched your jaw. “He has no right to speak in the name of The House Atreides. I am The Duchess of it and he’s just a Fremen terrorist!”

“Perhaps you haven’t heard me right, dear sister…” Paul started.

“I have heard you perfectly well, brother,” you turned around to face him with raised eyebrows.

“Then you know that I am The Duke,” he squinted his eyes at you.

“I will not give up such a title easily,” you raised your head even higher as you straightened yourself. “I shall challenge you to a duel, brother.”

“Challenge to a duel? Me?” Paul snorted at you. “You cannot wield a blade sister.”

“I am the blade of my Baroness,” Feyd’s raspy voice interrupted you as everyone looked at him.

He nodded at you and you nodded back, approaching him to put a hand on his chest.

“Do not disappoint me, Feyd,” you whispered. “Make me proud like you always do.”

You hoped he was aware of the weight of the responsibility placed upon his shoulders right now. It was not a simple duel with Paul Atreides caused by his wife’s whim to keep some title. It was a duel about the future of his House, a duel about his child’s life… Perhaps a duel about the future of the whole galaxy.

And you hated that on that day you’d either lose a husband or a brother. Losing your husband would be much worse – you couldn’t imagine your life without Feyd now and what you’d end up like without his protection. On the other hand, seeing Paul die – even changed like that – would bring you no pleasure.

“Give my husband his blade back,” you barked at the Fremen guards as you stood next to Princess Irulan and watched the guard hesitantly handing Feyd his knife.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Baroness,” Princess Irulan hissed at you.

“Would you rather get on your knees and beg him, Princess?” You asked her.

“For my father’s life, I would.”

“Well, that is not a tradition of The House Harkonnen to beg on our knees,” you explained.

No one had to know how pathetic the late Baron had been in his last moments. Or how easy it was to humiliate Count Glossu Rabban.

“Have faith, mother,” your son’s voice brought you great comfort as Feyd and Paul stood facing each other. Hot Arrakis' sun was setting slowly behind them; its light was making them both look more like nothing but dark silhouettes.

“It’s nice to meet you, cousin,” Paul greeted your husband.

“Cousin? Is that so?” Feyd looked amused.

“Please, save your father. Do not let your uncle have any advantage. Let your father have a fair fight,” you pleaded to the baby inside you.

You had to be very desperate to count on the unborn child to save you, you realised.

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Paul raised his blade to perform the traditional Harkonnen gesture.

It annoyed you how he displayed his Harkonnen heritage as if he was more of it than you were. He might have had their blood but he was no Harkonnen. Perhaps that was what you had always felt towards your brother above anything else – annoyance. 

He was simply annoying in a way he was nothing special and yet your father favoured him because he was a boy and a son of a woman your father loved. It was annoying that he had a mother and you did not. That he would inherit the title you could only dream of. That he was following you around like a lost puppy, pretending that you two were normal, loving siblings. You loved him but the annoyance was often stronger. And now the love was barely there.

Your brother had died in that desert. Muad’Dib was not your brother.

Just like Baroness Harkonnen was not his sister.

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Feyd smirked at Paul as he repeated the Harkonnen gesture and the duel began.

The whole room went completely silent. The only sounds were the ones of the fight – the music of the crossing knives and occasional grunts. Amongst the Fremen women, two watched the most curiously. One of them was naturally Lady Jessica, meanwhile the other one was a young woman whose blue eyes were following Paul’s every move.

Feyd noticed her, too, as he pointed at her with a smirk.

“Your pet?” He asked Paul.

Your brother did not answer and attacked but you had your eyes glued on the Fremen woman. She would possibly cause trouble in case of Paul’s death, so you wanted to remember her face.

You did not like the way Paul seemed to fight as good as your husband. You were aware his skills had improved but nothing could prepare you for the sight of him blocking nearly every blow and successfully performing his own. The way these two skillful warriors fought reminded you more of some sort of sophisticated dance than a common fight. And if this duel was not about your future and your life, you’d love to watch it and admire it.

Princess Irulan was as scared as you were. She held your hand and you squeezed it to give her comfort.

As women you could only watch and hope for the men to spare you. In times like that, you hated to be a woman. No matter how much power and influence you were holding, in critical moments like this, you were only an observer of the grand spectacle of life.

A soft gasp left your mouth at the sight of your brother attacking Feyd with so much ferocity that your husband stumbled for a moment and when he raised his head again, you spotted fresh blood dripping from his nose all over his chin. He smirked, of course, since pain was bringing him pleasure. However, his pain was bringing no pleasure to you.

The duel progressed in a more aggressive manner. The foreplay was long gone now as two opponents were growing more and more frustrated with each other. It was getting less sophisticated and more messy. You tried to follow the movements closely but sometimes you missed half of them because of their speed.

Princess Irulan’s loud wheeze made you realise that Paul’s blade found a thin gap in Feyd’s stillsuit as his blade cut deep into your husband’s flesh right below his rib. Your eyes widened at the sight and your heart sank so deep in your chest that you forgot to breathe to the point of dizziness.

Paul had a smirk on his face when he turned around to face you as Feyd dropped his blade and stumbled behind him. You stood there, petrified as the reality around you seemed to slow down.

You felt more like an animal than a human being at that moment – your head was empty, you were driven by nothing but instincts.

Feyd fell down to his knees as Paul began walking towards you, limping slightly. Your free hand covered your womb as your other hand squeezed Irulan’s hand so tight you nearly crashed it. You tried to keep your eyes on Paul, you wanted to observe his moves to make sure you’d be able to somehow defend yourself. But you couldn’t. You kept staring at your husband and you noticed his struggle to get the blade out of his body. You couldn’t understand why he was trying to do that since a skilled and experienced fighter like him had known perfectly well it was never a good idea.

On shaky legs but with all the force, bleeding from his fresh wound, Feyd rose up and attacked Paul yet again, accompanied by Lady Jessica’s scream that made you shiver.

Your brother turned around, surprised to see Feyd back on his feet again – desperate act of a wounded, dying animal, ready to sacrifice everything to win the final battle. Feyd pushed the blade in between the gaps of Paul’s stillsuit and twisted the knife with a psychotic smile before they both fell to the ground.

After a short while of silence with the waves of shock going through your body, you screamed and ran up to Feyd. Lady Jessica stood up and ran up to her son. Everyone watched with widened eyes the two feral women kneeling down arm to arm, holding the wounded men in their arms.

Feyd chuckled at the sight of you and coughed up as you put your hands on his wound. The Harkonnen blood was thicker, which was making bleeding out to death a more difficult process but you could see his eyes getting hazy anyway.

You felt the tears streaming down your face as you caressed his cheek and he raised his hand weakly to put it on your womb.

“No!” Lady Jessica’s scream was animalistic. You turned your head around and saw her face winced in so much pain and anger that she no longer seemed human. You took a short glance down and noticed that life had completely left your brother’s body by now. It stinged your heart, too, but you knew that it meant only one thing – Feyd had won. You were The Duchess Atreides now. “He’s dead!” Lady Jessica yelled at you.

You were a mother now, too. You couldn’t imagine the depth of her pain and loss. Her only son – dead in her arms. Your brother.

Her hand reached out for the blade stuck in Paul’s guts. The same blade that had wounded your husband before. Now she wanted to slay Feyd with it to make sure he would die, too.

“Mother,” your son warned you and driven by a pure instinct you swiftly grabbed the short knife attached to the armour piece on your hip beneath all the folds of your dress. Without thinking you stabbed her before she was able to take the blade out of her son’s dead body.

Lady Jessica’s blue eyes widened as she looked deep into yours and you sobbed.

“Forgive me,” you whispered, your hand shaking as you had just committed your very first direct murder.

You would never find out all the things you wanted to ask her. Sometimes even the biggest questions remained unanswered. Perhaps it was for the best.

And Lady Jessica had to understand that what you had done was caused by your need to protect your family. She had been one of those people sending you to the Harkonnens. She couldn’t be surprised now to see you had become one of them. You had to protect them.

Her body fell down on top of Paul’s and all the Fremen started to look around uncomfortably. You did not care, you focused on your husband again. His eyelids were getting heavy but he was still smiling.

“Can somebody help?!” You asked, looking around. “Please,” you begged Gurney.

“Stilgar,” he looked at one of the Fremen who looked like he was important and most likely the new leader after Muad’Dib’s death. “Bring here those servants we are holding captive,” he told him.

The man called Stilgar nodded unsurely and two Fremen guards left the room in a hurry.

“Please, don’t die,” you whispered to Feyd, cradling his head and putting it on your lap delicately. “Please, don’t leave me now.”

“I’ve made you proud, my Lady?” He asked in a weak whisper.

“Oh, you’ve made me the proudest,” you smiled through the tears. “But you can’t leave us now… None of this matters without you, my darling,” you wiped the blood off of his chin with your sleeve but it only smeared some more. “I love you, please…”

You expected to give up completely one day and finally confess your feelings but you had never expected it would be on the day of his death.

Feyd chuckled as his hand weakly slid down your womb as he no longer had any strength to keep it there. 

“I love you, too, pet,” his whisper was inaudible but you heard him right and sobbed some more, watching his eyes close.

“No! No, no, no…” You lowered yourself down and pressed your forehead to his, covering his face with your tears.

The doors opened and the Harkonnen medic entered the room in a hurry, accompanied by a few spared servants with Astra and Cara among them. Your poor girls were terrified and trembling. It was a great relief to see them but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care much about anything but your husband.

What was the point of defeating Paul? What was the point of anything without Feyd by your side?

The medic hurried to your side and knelt down next to Feyd’s body. He examined it quickly and furrowed his brows.

“My Lady, he’s still alive,” he informed you and you looked up at him.

“Wh-what?”

“The body functions are still there, Baroness. He lost consciousness due to the blood loss but maybe… Maybe I can still save The Baron’s life,” he swallowed thickly.

“What are you waiting for then?!” You yelled at him and he nodded, beckoning over a few male servants to help him carry Feyd’s body to the medical wing of the palace.

You stood up clumsily and watched them walk out. You wanted to follow them and forget about anything else but you were aware that at a moment like this you could not leave any case unfinished.

You faced The Emperor. He looked as if he was about to have a heart attack, his face paler than usual and his eyes widened. His shaking hand was holding Irulan’s one.

“I, Duchess (Y/N) of The House Atreides, Baroness of The House Harkonnen, pledge my allegiance to The Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV,” you kneeled down and bowed your head.

His time would come, too, of that you were sure. But not now. Not yet.

“May your service be accepted, Duchess Atreides, Baroness Harkonnen,” he nodded at you and stood up once again.

You turned around at the Fremen, looking at the man named Stilgar who had been watching you very closely ever since Paul’s death.

“You may attack us but all the ships above us with the galactic leaders will destroy your homeworld in revenge,” you informed him. “Or you might cooperate with me. I will give you what my father has never given you and what he would never give you,” you added. “I shall join my husband now but I want you to stay here and negotiate with you.”

Stilgar looked around to see the faces of his fellow Fremen brothers and sisters. You knew that the reason they had not yet attacked you despite all your guards being slain was respect. You were the one to win the duel and it was your husband who slain their Muad’Dib. You were the one to slay their Reverend Mother.

Some of the fellow Fremen were shaking their heads hesitantly, not trusting you. But some of them were nodding.

“We can divide the planet for spice production and for Fremen to live in. We do not harvest spice in the south of Arrakis because it is inhabitable to us,” you explained. “So if we give the south to you, we will not lose any production. And you will have your own territory to live in. I am going to help you to turn the south of Arrakis into a more friendly place as much as possible. The Harkonnen science is well developed, I am sure they will find a way to make trees grow again there. And I offer you to have a representative during the most important councils about Arrakis’ fate in the future. That would be you, I assume?” You tried to explain calmly. “I do not want you as enemies. Arrakis is big and spacious enough for all of us.”

The long silence occurred.

“What if I was wrong? What if she is Lisan Al Gaib?” Stilgar asked and some of the Fremen rolled their eyes angrily.

“I am no Lisan Al Gaib,” you told him, “I am Duchess Atreides, Baroness Harkonnen. That is how you shall address me.”

“The leaders of The Great Houses are getting impatient,” one of the Fremen said as he was monitoring the tracking device in his hand.

“Tell them to come down,” you looked at him. “They shall witness our new deal.”

Hesitantly, Stilgar nodded at the man.

“Now, do excuse me, I should go to my husband,” you nodded your head at him and then at The Emperor.

You were about to walk out, when Gurney spoke up.

“What about Paul’s body? Lady Jessica’s?”

“Do you know where my father’s remains are?” You asked him.

“I have my assumptions,” he answered. There was no kindness nor love in his eyes anymore when he was looking at you. There was hurt, betrayal and anger. None of it mattered to you anymore.

“Find it then and send all of them back to Caladan. Lay them down next to my mother,” you told him. “I do not want Arrakis to be known for being a place where the Atreides rot.”

“My Lady,” he nodded.

With your eyes you found the Fremen woman who most likely had been Paul’s lover. She was now kneeling to his body and stroking his cheeks.

“You,” you addressed her as she looked up angrily. She could kill you with her eyes only if she could. “What is your name?”

“Chani,” she answered proudly.

“Was Muad’Dib your lover?”

She hesitated before answering.

“Yes.”

“Change of plans, then,” you looked at Gurney. “Lady Jessica and my father shall go back to Caladan. Let this woman bury Muad’Dib as she wishes.”

“My Lady,” he bowed.

“Let it be known that Baroness Harkonnen can get a little sentimental,” you smirked at Chani before walking out of the room.

Your body was so full of adrenaline that you felt as if you were in a dream.

Feyd was unconscious for three days now and most of them you were spending in the medical wing, holding his hand. In the meantime you were working on a deal with Stilgar. The Emperor had left Arrakis as soon as possible but not without thanking you for your loyalty and support that he had promised not to forget.

With fake kindness you assured him of your sincerity as if you hadn’t been already planning how to get rid of him next. Seeing his weakness and how easily your brother would take his title, if not stopped by your husband, made your own hunger for power even greater.

The leaders of The Great Houses hadn’t stayed for long but they borrowed you servants and guards for until your own would come from Giedi Prime, sent by Count Glossu Rabban.

So much was happening and so many things there were to process but your mind was in a haze. All you could truly focus on was Feyd. At first you wanted to give up completely but it was your son who decided to motivate you.

“You have to be strong now, mother. Do it for me,” he had pleaded.

And he had been right. You had to make all the arrangements to ensure the position of the House Harkonnen for your heir. 

Holding Feyd’s cold hand and caressing his fingers, you watched his body functions on the monitor. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. Some part of you was glad he was getting all this rest. You just hoped he would eventually be alright.

Suddenly, you felt his cold slim fingers move slightly. You looked at his face and watched his eyelids flutter before opening slowly. He looked around, confused.

“Pet?” He only asked at the sight of you, confused, as you smiled widely and sobbed a few happy tears.

“Oh, Feyd!” You leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his lips. “Oh, my darling…”

“Shouldn’t I be dead now?”

“Not on my watch,” you caressed his cheeks. “You’ve been knocked out for three days, my Baron,” you told him. “Let me call a medic to examine you.”

You stood up and informed the guard behind the doors that Baron Harkonnen was awake and he nodded before walking away to call for the medic.

While you waited for him, you told Feyd about everything that had been happening for the past three days. He was only watching you closely and nodding his head.

“My uncle was right. You’re better suited to be The Baroness than I am to be The Baron,” he told you eventually.

“Don’t say that! You’d do the same,” you assured him, squeezing his hand.

“No, I would not. I would slay all the Fremen once I’d have an army here.”

“You would not because I would advise you otherwise,” you chuckled and then you took a deep breath in. “I can’t wait to go back home.”

“Home?” He furrowed his brows.

“Giedi Prime,” you answered like it was obvious. “I want our son to be born there.”

“We need to find someone worthy of being the Governor of Arrakis first. Someone loyal and not a complete idiot like my brother,” Feyd reminded you.

“I’ve already found one and sent him a letter,” you admitted, a little anxious about his reaction.

“Who?”

“Lord Kirill, the one who married one of my former maids. She bore him a son not so long ago. He will be loyal and I’ve read about his successful military campaigns in one of the books,” you answered.

“Lord Kirill is not a bad choice,” Feyd nodded. “We can allow him to try.”

“I’ve told that man, Stilgar, that he can write to me any time if anything happens. For some reason he seems to respect me greatly. Probably because I have slain their Reverend Mother,” you laughed nervously.

“And how do you feel about it?” Feyd asked, squinting his eyes at you as he slowly sat up on the bed.

You didn’t answer at first. Your smile dropped and you stared in the distance.

“I remember how your uncle told me that you had killed your mother. I could not understand it back then. It seemed to be the worst thing a person can do,” you admitted. “But I’ve realised that I have killed my mother twice. I killed my biological mother by being born and I killed Lady Jessica who has raised me. And guess what… The sun still rises in the morning. My blood still flows. As if nothing terrible happened at all. Strange,” you looked at him again.

“With time you just don’t feel anything anymore,” he assured you.

“She was with a child, the medic told me. Lady Jessica was as pregnant as I am. With a daughter. My sister,” you whispered.

“So, you slaughtered them both,” Feyd smirked. Of course it brought him some sadistic satisfaction.

“I have slaughtered the last member of The Atreides family except for me,” you told him. “This House dies with me so the House Harkonnen can thrive. This is the greatest sacrifice and I only hope it is going to pay off.”

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head.

“You shall give my son The Harkonnen Empire,” you stated but before he could answer, the medic entered the room with a smile.

“I’m so glad to see you awake, my Baron,” he approached your husband. “You must be starving, I’ve told the cooks to prepare your favourite steak.”

Feyd nodded at him.

“My Lady, your servant girls would like to see you,” the medic told you and you stood up.

“From now on, you shall address Astra and Cara as my maids,” you told him.

The title would not change much about their position but at least it was giving them some dignity. The medic’s eyes widened a little but he nodded.

“I will see you soon,” you leaned in to place a kiss upon Feyd’s forehead before walking out and going to your bedroom.

Astra and Cara were standing by the window, waiting for your arrival. When you entered the chamber, they both approached you excitedly.

“Is that true that the Baron is awake now, my Lady?” Astra asked.

“Yes, my darling, it is,” you nodded.

“Oh, what a relief!” Cara sighed.

They were terrified of Feyd but they knew that if he died, no one would allow you to be Baroness Harkonnen on your own. The Harkonnen lords would most likely start an uprising. No one would accept a woman in charge – especially an off-world woman. They would rather crown Count Glossu Rabban their next Baron and you’d be an outcast alongside your son. Without any family to go to. Meanwhile, your servants – now maids – would either be killed or enslaved again.

But that would not happen – not at all. And it was hard to believe that you really had survived and found a new home, new family, new purpose. Perhaps you fitted even better with them than you had ever had with The Atreides on Caladan. Perhaps it was making it easier to cope when you believed that.

Bittersweet was the taste of your victory. You still remembered your brother’s dead body laying on the floor. You remembered Lady Jessica’s widened eyes right after you stabbed her. They would haunt you forever but you knew they were inevitable to happen if you wanted your happy ending and your survival.

And you wanted them more than anything.

Coming back to Giedi Prime was making you a bit anxious. You weren’t sure what people’s reactions would be to Feyd and you being the new Baron and Baroness Harkonnen. Rabban was assuring you that the citizens were rather excited but you were mostly worried about the noble lords. Only the most stupid ones believed in the late Baron’s death being caused by Muad’Dib. But the stupid ones didn’t matter.

The official ceremony of you and your husband becoming the Baron and Baroness was planned for the day after your arrival. Surprisingly, Rabban who had been responsible for making arrangements, had done a splendid job. The whole Giedi Prime was decorated already when you looked at the city from the windows of your ship. He was doing his best to stay in Feyd’s favour.

“Do you wish to keep your old bedrooms, my Lord, my Lady?” One of the servants asked once you entered the Giedi Prime’s fortress. “We can prepare the late Baron’s chambers for you.”

“Is that the room with the bathtub?” You asked and Feyd nodded at you with a hint of disgust in his eyes. “We wish to keep our old ones, thank you,” you informed the servant. “But I do want to change some decor,” you added. “Some other time, though, now I’m exhausted,” you dismissed the bowing man.

“You still say thank you to the servants, even now when you’re The Baroness,” Feyd smirked at you as you two began walking down the corridor to reach the staircase.

It was a surprising feeling but you sighed out of relief as you passed all the huge black doors on your way. It truly felt like home.

“That is how I was raised. It’s not easy to change what we were taught as children,” you reminded him and he nodded.

Feyd walked you to your shared bedrooms since you could barely walk in your current state. You were about to give birth any day now and you noticed he didn’t like leaving you alone for long when you were in that state. He waited for Astra and Cara to join you before he eventually left to deal with some official duties as The Baron.

Your maids brought a celebration dress with them to show you and make the final fittings. It was so huge that it filled half of the bedroom space. Black and feathered with enough volume to hide your pregnancy.

“How do you feel, Baroness?” Astra asked as she fixed one of the feathers on the dress’ fabric and you were looking at yourself in the mirror.

“Like an Empress already,” you smirked to yourself.

Cara and Astra looked at each other significantly but they chose not to comment.

“Like an Empress of death,” you added. “I imagine The Harkonnen Empire to be a dark, cold and scary place. I can see snakes slithering down the black marble floors, following me wherever I go, willing to attack any enemy of mine,” you dreamt out loud.

In one of the Harkonnen books you had read about such creatures – genetically modified to be loyal pets to their owners and deadly attacking their enemies. You had been waiting to become The Baroness to ask the engineers for pets like these, too.

The celebration was supposed to start in the late afternoon but you were on your feet since early morning, dealing with official papers to sign and to get familiar with. There were off-world guests to greet – Princess Irulan amongst them, representing House Corrino and her father. He was still grateful for what you had done on Arrakis in a nearly exaggerated way. Perhaps he knew about your bloodthirsty ambitions blooming within you and he hoped to become your friend.

The Emperor himself being desperate for you to like him because of the power you were holding now. That was delicious in a way, you had to admit.

He was not the only one. The word had spread about what had happened on Arrakis. Feyd was known now as one of the greatest warriors in the galaxy who would sacrifice everything for The House Harkonnen. And you were known for being cunning, dignified and unhinged in a way you were able to murder a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother who had been your family member. The new Baron and Baroness Harkonnen were quickly becoming characters of scary stories people would tell their misbehaving children. Cold and bloodthirsty; unstoppable and inseparable force.

You couldn’t tell what moment of the ceremony was your favourite – when everyone was looking at you walking slowly and gasping at your dress or when the Harkonnen army saluted you and swore to shed blood for you, making you realise what kind of massive army you were truly commanding now. Perhaps it was the moment of making vows or putting on the Harkonnen insignia. Or maybe an unscripted, passionate and hungry kiss that Feyd gave you in front of everybody once you were announced officially The Baron and Baroness of The House Harkonnen. That kiss was a promise of more. He would give you so much more than this. And you would be by his side every step of the way.

You were his anchor and he was your blade. The whole galaxy knew that now.

The Giedi Prime was celebrating but you chose to go back to your chambers quite early. You were not pleased with missing the party but you were exhausted after a whole day of walking and standing. Astra and Cara helped you to change into your nightgown and they were in the process of brushing your hair softly when you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen.

“My Lady?” Cara asked, worryingly.

“It’s fine, just a contraction,” you smiled at her. They had been occasionally happening for a few days now.

“Are you sure, Baroness?” Astra looked at your face in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are we sure?” You asked your son in your head.

“It’s time, mother,” the familiar voice answered.

Your eyes widened as another contraction came and you grabbed the edge of your vanity table. The girls looked at each other, scared.

“Call for the medic and inform The Baron,” you told them and they nodded their heads.

Astra stayed with you while Cara recruited one of the guards in front of your doors to go with her and find Feyd and the medic. With Astra’s help you sat on the edge of your bed and squeezed her hand.

“I might die, Astra,” you told her and she shook her head, terrified. “Listen to me, my mother died giving birth and I am aware this might happen to me as well.”

“My Lady, no… I refuse to…” She started with a trembling voice.

“Astra, listen to me, it’s important,” you drawled through your teeth gritted out of pain. She closed her lips and looked at you with her big Harkonnen eyes. “If I die tonight, I want you and Cara to take care of my son, do you hear me?”

She nodded as tears started to form in the corner of her eyes.

“The medic has been informed. He knows about my wish and he told me you and Cara have been studying infant care intensely. Feyd knows he cannot hurt you nor Cara. You will be safe, do not worry about that. I ensured that,” you assured her.

“Th-thank you, my Lady…” Astra stuttered out.

“In return, I ask you to take care of my son. And to keep him away from the Bene Gesserit scheming. Please,” you pleaded.

“I promise. In Cara’s name, too,” Astra put her free hand on her heart and you broke a smile at her.

She was barely sixteen and you were placing such great responsibility upon her shoulders. You couldn’t deal with it differently, though. It was a cruel world you lived in and much worse things were being forced upon sixteen years old girls anyway.

You feared death. Especially now when you were about to give birth to your son and begin your reign. You had things to look for and your child might had not been conceived out of love but it was still wanted by you. You did not feel trapped in a loveless marriage like your mother had been. You actually wanted to give Feyd-Rautha a son. Many sons and many daughters; you wanted to be known for giving House Harkonnen many successful heirs. You wanted to be an important figure in their history books one day.

But as much as you feared death, you also knew that it was also a place where your mother was waiting for you, your father, your brother, Lady Jessica and your unborn sister. You liked to think that even now they’d still greet you with open arms. And if not, you’d just wait for Feyd patiently.

Your depressing stream of thought was interrupted by the black doors opening rapidly without knocking. It was the medic accompanied by Cara and Feyd. You had never seen your husband stressed before. Usually so stoic, he was on the verge of a breakdown.

“Prepare the bed for The Baroness,” the medic ordered Astra and Cara helped her with the duvets and towels.

Feyd helped you to stand up and he cupped your face in his cold and shivering hands.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“How do you think I feel?” You rolled your eyes and hissed out of pain as another contraction hit you. “Like shit.”

“You can do it, my pet. You’re the strongest woman I know,” he assured you and helped you to get in bed. The medic was preparing some injections already that were supposed to make the process go smoother and easier.

“Our technology allows the whole childbirth to be nearly painless,” he told you with a smile. “Of course only the richest can afford such shots.”

“Remember what I’ve told you before,” Feyd barked at him. He was standing beside your bed and squeezing your hand in his. Astra and Cara were standing on the other side with a bowl full of cold water and a towel to wipe your forehead when needed.

The medic nodded and you furrowed your brow. He injected the first shot and you winced, squeezing Feyd’s hand tighter.

“What is that arrangement between you two?” You asked but they did not answer. “I have a right to know if it is about me or my child!” You demanded.

The medic looked at your husband and after a short moment of hesitation, Feyd nodded at him.

“The Baron has made me promise to… To ensure you live, my Lady. Even if it means your son will not,” he explained.

“You’d sacrifice your heir?” Your eyes widened when you looked up at your husband. He crouched down and leaned in to kiss your temple and to whisper in your ear so the rest would not hear him properly.

“We can produce more heirs. And if we can’t, any whore can give me a son. But no one would ever replace you, my Baroness,” he told you.

“You can’t let our son die… No…” You nearly cried. “You don’t understand, Feyd. These past few weeks I have been talking to him every day. I already have a bond with him. And he saved your life on Arrakis… If someone has to die tonight, it’s going to be me,” you tried to convince him to change his mind but he only clenched his jaw and gave you an angry look before standing up again.

“So far, the baby is placed properly,” the medic assured you. “I do not think anyone is going to die tonight.”

The sunlight was already creeping in through the narrow windows of your bedroom. Exhausted, squeezing your husband’s hand, you finally made the final push. If the medic claimed that thanks to his injections the process had been nearly painless, you did not want to know what it would be like without the said injections.

But it was finally over and the loud cry of a newborn baby filled the whole room as you sighed with relief.

“Oh, he’s a big boy, my Lord, my Lady,” the medic smiled at you as he cradled the baby in his arms. “Strong and healthy,” he assured you and handed your son to Cara. Astra wiped your face with a towel and brushed the hair out of your face gently and you reached out weakly to hold your child. You were too exhausted to process the thought of having a son but when he was finally placed in your arms and stopped crying at the sight of you, you burst out in happy tears.

The boy had your eyes and soft, fluffy, thin baby hairs on his head. His skin colour was much paler than yours but not as white as his fathers.

“He looks more like me,” you thought out loud as Feyd chuckled, staring at the boy in your arms with his chin resting on your shoulder.

“His hair might start falling out once he’s getting older,” the medic informed you.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” you chuckled through your tears. “I’m still going to love him even when he’s bald.”

“My Lord, shall we inform the people of the birth of the na-baron?” The medic asked your husband.

“Immediately,” Feyd answered. You spotted pride and excitement in his voice even though he was trying to hide it.

“Do you have a name, my Lady?” The medic laid his eyes on you.

“I want to bring back the old Harkonnen tradition,” you stated. “The one about giving your first born son the name of the Wedding Games winner from his parents’ wedding,” you brought up the fun fact you had read in one of the books from the Harkonnen library. “But I would also like him to be named after his father just like my husband bears his grandfather’s name,” you added. “What about Maxim-Feyd Harkonnen?” You looked up at your husband, trying to read the reaction from his face.

“You can name him whatever you wish as long as it is not Vladimir,” he only said.

“Na-Baron Maxim-Feyd Harkonnen that is,” you nodded at the medic and he left your bedroom to announce the birth of the new heir.

“Girls, can you leave us alone for a moment?” You asked your maids and they bowed down before walking out quietly as well.

Once you were left alone in the room with your husband and your son, you moved slightly to the side, wincing out of pain.

“Come, join us?” You looked at Feyd and he nodded, hesitantly, before sitting up on the bed next to you. He put his arm around you and his eyes were not leaving your son even for a moment. “What do you think? Now, without anyone to witness?” You teased, knowing perfectly well there were things Feyd would never say or do with any kind of audience.

“I think he’s… beautiful,” he admitted and raised his finger to caress the boy’s cheek. “And I’m glad he was born in a world without my uncle in it.”

“And that’s because of you, my darling. You protected him,” you reminded. “Like you always will, yes?”

“He is my heir. Everything I do, I do for him. My legacy is for him to inherit,” Feyd answered and placed a kiss on your cheek.

You stayed like that for a while, in complete silence, looking at Maxim who was staring back at you with his wide eyes.

“Do you hear me?” You tried but there was no answer. However, the baby kicked his feet slightly when you spoke to him with your mind.

“You’re going to be a strong warrior, my darling. The most fearsome in the galaxy,” you promised him in a whisper. “The greatest pride of the House Harkonnen. Mummy will make sure of that.”

You heard the sound of fireworks going off in the distance, black splashes of ink-like gas scattered all over the morning sky. Giedi Prime had already found out about the birth of your son.

“They will want to see him,” you turned your head around to look at Feyd.

“They can wait,” he told you. “You rest.”

“No, I can do it. I want to show them,” you assured him and pecked his lips gently. “Tell Astra and Cara to come here and prepare me.”

He nodded and leaned in to place a kiss upon his son’s forehead before leaving the bedroom to find your maids. You thought you’d feed Maxim first but he was already falling asleep in your arms, so when your girls entered the chambers, you handed Astra your child delicately and she took him to the bathroom to bathe him. You needed a bath as well and Cara helped you with it, holding your hand as you were moving slowly on shaky legs.

Your dress was black and very simple – humble even. After all, you were not supposed to be the main attraction on that day. Your hair was done up and the only jewellery you were wearing was the rings of your houses. Maxim was put in traditional black clothes for the newborn Harkonnen babies and you waited for the noon, half asleep on your armchair, feeding your baby with the help of Astra and Cara. Your dress was pulled down but ready to zip back up any given moment.

Feyd entered the room but he unusually announced his arrival with a soft knock upon your doors. He was wearing his black leather uniform and froze at the sight of you feeding his son.

“Since when do you knock?” You looked up at him with a soft smile.

“I didn’t want to startle the baby,” he told you. “You’re feeding the child yourself?” He was visibly surprised.

“I will not let any Harkonnen woman feed my child. There is enough poison in him already,” you answered. “And it is good for creating a bond between the mother and her child anyway.”

“How long does he need? The people have already gathered and they want to see him,” Feyd approached you.

“It’s not noon yet.”

“They’re impatient, my Baroness,” he smirked and looked down at his child sucking on your breast. Maxim looked up at him and reached his tiny hand up.

You sighed at the sight of Feyd looking completely paralyzed. You moved one of your hands gently to grab your husband’s pointing finger and put it in your son’s hand. Maxim squeezed it tightly and you chuckled.

“He’s strong already,” Feyd noticed.

“Of course he is, he’s your son,” you nodded. “But it’s enough now, my boy, you’ll get more later, I promise,” you nodded at Cara. She took the child from you delicately as Astra wiped your breast and helped you to put the upper part of the dress back on. Maxim whined for a while but Cara successfully shushed him by carrying him in her arms.

Feyd helped you to stand up and he led you out of the bedroom with Astra and Cara following you closely. You approached the big glass doors leading to the balcony of the fortress. You could already hear the cheers of the gathered masses waiting to see the heir.

You took a deep breath in as Cara handed you Maxim and Feyd nodded at the guards to open the doors. Slowly and carefully you walked out into the black-and-white world. Thousands of nearly identical pale faces were waiting impatiently to see you and when you finally graced them with your smile and a wave of your hand, they cheered loudly, causing Maxim to startle and cry. The sound of his crying caused the crowd to go even wilder, though.

You handed your son to Feyd and he raised his arms to show off the crying boy to the cheering and saluting population of Giedi Prime. He held him up in the air for a while and then he carefully gave him back to you and joined your lips together in a hungry, passionate kiss. He cupped your face to hold it in place as he devoured you. All the cheers and your baby’s crying were suddenly nothing but a muffled sound. All that mattered was you and Feyd-Rautha, showing his loyalty and gratitude to his Baroness.

Scared and naive Princess Atreides who had come to Giedi Prime a year earlier, she hadn’t known how much she could endure and survive. How much she had been capable of. She couldn’t have known that this scary place was indeed her home and that terrifying man was the love of her life.

Perhaps for the first time in your life you felt sincerely and thoroughly respected and appreciated. You had a purpose and you had a hunger for more.

And although no one else could hear him in that noise, it still surprised you what your husband dared to say to you in public.

“I love you,” he breathed out after breaking the kiss, still holding your face steadily in his hands and staring deep into your eyes. “I will give you the world.”

You nodded at him with a soft smile.

“I love you, too, my Baron.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE 2.0 — Hi, it's me again! 👋🏻 I want to explain a few choices that I didn't want to mention about before the chapter because it would spoil the events. At first, Reader's baby was supposed to be just a regular baby – strong warrior of course etc., but nothing extremely special. Some of you were calling him jokingly an antichrist, though and it gave me an idea. I decided that giving him special abilities would actually make it possible for Feyd-Rautha to win the duel with Paul. Otherwise, Paul would be able to kill him because he'd be able to foresee Feyd's moves like it happened in the movie. So, the whole theory that the baby is an antichrist was actually very helpful and made the plot of Feyd killing Paul more possible. 😈 Also, I decided to rewrite the scenes from the movie because whenever I am writing fics that happen in the movie scenes, the worst part is to actually describe the events on the screen and writing down everything actors are saying etc. I've always hated doing that so I decided to just be inspired by the events of the movie but go with my own version, especially that the presence of Paul's sister would obviously change the dynamic anyway. I know that some of you hoped Paul would live and have some sort of a deal with Feyd and his wife. I also liked the idea of arranging the marriage between Alia and their son. But as I said before – I decided to go with my original plan for this story. I hope I am forgiven. 😅

MASTERLIST

[straawberries]

gonna make another post since that usually helps with reach

teehee poll for reach. please read the rest of this if you can

HI IM DELILAH AND IVE GOT LESS THAN 4 MONTHS BEFORE IM HOMELESS WITH NO OPTIONS FOR PLACES TO LIVE

heeyyy its me delilah. im an autistic plural trans girl with ptsd, and im living in an abusive household with my adoptive "father" that absolutely hates me. in less than 4 months, i am going to be kicked out, and i am trying to raise the money i need to survive this event.

ive been trying, pretty much every chance i get, to get a job, but i think because of this shitty small town in texas, everyone already knows who i am and nobody wants to hire me. this means i have to rely on stuff like this.

by JUNE 1ST 2024, i need to make enough money to move out, or else... well, i dont really know what will happen to me (other than vague "homelessness"), but im really scared that it wont end well.

on top of that im rarely being fed enough which is seriously fucking with my mood and making me feel like shit, so im having to balance saving and eating which.. with the money im currently getting, is not very sustainable. other than a few people giving a lot (who i am eternally thankful for and if youre able to do this i would basically do anything for you) im basically getting zero donations.

i get that this kind of stuff is annoying and maybe a bit slow, but just taking a few seconds, maybe a minute or two at most, to give me a small amount of money, would be a hell of a lot more helpful than doing nothing.

C*SH*PP - @delilahswagga

P*YP*L - @delilahkill

plenty of people use stuff like this to scam, so heres some info about me if you doubt that this is true. (copy pasted from previous post)

i have a really big love for performing, i fell in love with theatre years ago and performed the addams family musical as fester about a month ago as my biggest role on stage yet, and right now im in the process of getting ready for antigone as teiresius. i love music, and its one of my life goals to learn as many instruments as possible, and currently i own quite a few, though my favorites are my two ukuleles and my super cool electric guitar. i have 8 partners at the moment, and i have a very big desire to one day live with as many of them as i can. i pride myself on being the best partner i can be, and its been my goal to make all my partner's lives better (and i think ive been doing a good job at it :3)

i love cats an extreme amount, ive never had a cat myself (because my dad is insane and hates cats and tries to hit cats with his truck) but being around cats makes me super happy and always makes my anxieties go away, even when im having an anxiety attack or a panic attack. i really hope i can get a few cats one day, and i want to give them all silly food names :) my fursona is kind of a reflection of that, her name is bagel. some cat names ive thought of are mochi, chili, Supreme Pizza, or maybe french fry :)

im not sure if ill be able to achieve any of my goals if i dont get the financial support i need. ive been.. really close to giving up recently, but i dont want to have to do that, so im going to fight like this for as long as i can.

[princeandreis]

okay i just had the weirdest thing just happen to me and im extremely confused (discussions of anxiety, body dysmorphia, and bodily sensations under the cut if you don't want to read that)

setting: end of abnormal psychology class; we'd just finished watching an upsetting scene from csi about a girl with body dysmorphic disorder who literally gouged holes into her face

i'm sitting there feeling a little upset, partially because of the video and partially because the day's lecture material hit a little too close to home (anxiety disorders and whatnot)

and then out of the blue, my ears "zone out" and a high-pitched buzzing starts, i feel unrooted and dizzy like the world just spun 180 degrees, my vision briefly goes dark and fuzzy on the edges, and i get this heavy but floating feeling in my chest -- like it's hard to breathe but my chest is barely there.

then i start to feel nauseous -- seriously nauseous, like i might have to leave the room to vomit, which genuinely never ever happens to me -- and my stomach feels like it does when my lactose intolerance is out to get me. meanwhile, my body gets so hot that my face physically starts sweating and i have to take off my jacket.

i was so freaked out by all of this and my hearing was so fuzzy i had to concentrate to understand what the professor was saying, and it felt like i was barely in the room because i was so inside my own head and body trying to figure out what was wrong. i was so scared i'd throw up or do something weird that i just sat motionless and stared straight ahead, wide-eyed, hoping it would all pass. all of this happened within a minute or two and then it was over.

girl wadda hell just happened to my body

[manicpixiefelix]

and other things that happened by the red staircase

{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }

Summary: Like with all events at Saltburn, you take great care to learn all you can about the guests for the upcoming Catton Family Reunion, to make sure you can make a good impression. You and Venetia, however, discover that Felix may be making too good of an impression on his recently un-estranged cousin.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: felix fingering(/possibly going down on) his cousin but its not super explicit, reader having a social anxiety regarding the social event, venetia being kind of a nasty little perv i love her

A/N: 3841 words. this was meant to just be a little something about venetia and reader teasing felix after finding out he accidentally fingered his cousin, something i could write on my phone before bed. which i did but i didn't stop writing for 4 hours and it became too long for just an answer. also because there's a bunch of catton family lore ive invented and put it all in here.

also before any discourse arises, there's a character briefly mentioned here, Marv, who is an old butch lesbian who uses he/him pronouns. he is not trans, but chooses to use he/him, look into queer history if this bugs you, or go outside and off of my blog. you're reading the writing of an agender it/its lesbian, my blog is not a place for queer discourse, it's a place for being freaks about Jacob Elordi and Barry Keoghan.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

It's been a particularly stressful event for you; so much of Felix's family is in attendance and you're desperate to impress them. It had been called a reunion, but nothing at Saltburn was ever so simple, nor so informal. As always you've prepared ahead of time; Duncan and Elspeth, as they always did, walked you briefly through the guest list, however unlike usual, instead of leaving you alone with the detailed dossier of guests, Elspeth herself had sat with you in one of the numerous studies - the lilac one - and gone through in meticulous detail. The family friends they refer to as cousins, the family they refuse to acknowledge beyond a handshake - and why. All the Catton branches and the gossip that haunts each. Things like how it's the first event in ten years that Sir James' estranged, illegitimate half-sister and her family were invited to. She's laughing, and you act like your nerves aren't on fire, like there isn't bile rising in your throat out of fear of the faux pars you could see on the horizon.

"Oh they're going to love you, darling," she assures. The minute she leaves you start nervous crying over the dossier, which quickly becomes an anxiety attack. It's been a very long time, especially since they'd kindly set up this system to alleviate your known anxieties, that you'd been this afraid of a dinner.

None of them can know.

You're almost eighteen, you're meant to be well past this, meant to have learned to cope with it by now.

On the night of the event, Farleigh's the only one looking as queasy as you feel - the family's pitying looks and grating questions have him going for a smoke break almost every five minutes. Still, Venetia's never without a drink in hand despite her mother's disapproving looks, and Felix is nowhere to be seen. At least at this family affair there's a number of people your own age. Many related, but many not - more friends of the family, or illegitimate offspring. Still, you don't want to put your preparations to waste, want to make a good impression.

There's mean laughter from by the fireplace as you find yourself in conversation with Sir James and his second cousin Barty, praising the man for his recent and lucrative foray into financially supporting broadcast television. James gives you and incredibly surprised and approving look, while Barty lights up with delight, claiming that there was hope for the young after all it seemed. Casting a glance to the fireplace, you see a few mean looking teens all watching you with sneers.

Barty asks how you found yourself here, and James pats you on the back before you can answer, claiming you as one of the wards of Saltburn; a good influence on his dear son, Felix. Pride flares in your chest. But you can still hear the teens call you a freak.

Its taking everything in you to not try and find sanctuary in the company of Felix, Venetia, or Farleigh. Its incredibly tempting, considering the abundance of desperate eye contact you and Farleigh especially are sharing, but you worry that if you don't keep face, don't put your information to use, don't remain visible to everyone in the room who you've convinced yourself are even tangibly related to Felix and his immediate family, every single one of them will hate you.

One day you will reckon with how profoundly your upbringing effected the expectations you place on yourself. Today is not that day. So you smile at Mildred Catton - by marriage, second cousin, young widow and now spinster. Well, she has a girlfriend, judging by the way Elspeth had spoken about her roommate of twenty-five years, and she has a kind and knowing smile as she compliments you - so beautiful, what a handsome young thing you are, oh you do remind me of Marv like this, back when we first met, of that's cute, you'd love him. Marv is short for Marvel Elizabeth, the butch woman who lives with Mildred and runs a bike shop and who you'd spent probably too much time looking at in the dossier, his arm around Mildred in her photo, both of them smiling so wide.

You kind of wish he was here. When you share the sentiment, Mildred looks a little crestfallen; you get the impression that not a lot of the Cattons share your feeling.

Still, talking to Mildred helps ease your nerves considerably. At least until you realise that it's been quite some time since you'd seen Felix.

You don't need him at all times... Don't need to know his whereabouts at every second of every day... But you've found yourself trapped in a conversation with a gaggle of the newer, younger, shinier wives of Felix's various uncles-something-times-removed, and one hadn't been updated in the dossier and you greeted her as the wife she'd replaced. So now you're mortified, like a deer in the headlights as they're all judging you, and you know you're on the verge of panicking or throwing up -

"Need to steal our lovely Y/N for a moment," Venetia, your saviour. She slips an arm in yours and doesn't wait for an answer.

"Venetia, dear -" Christie, owner of a failing fragrance business that she desperately doesn't want people to know is failing, but that her husband had drunkenly, forlornly confessed about to Sir James, barely get two truly disdainful words in before Venetia brightly throws over her shoulder -

"Love your dress, matches your roots, talk later Auntie Chris," and you can only imagine the flustered fury on Christie's face as the other women try not to compare the dark dress to the woman's dark roots peeking through her blonde hair. You, however, are gone speechless in your nauseous panic, and press yourself to Venetia's side as she pulls you through the crowd, "you looked about ready to kill yourself like one of those dishonoured samurai," she says quietly but casually.

"Yeah, that was the rough plan," you managed to joke weakly. Your heart was racing; you hated being like this. It takes you a moment to properly focus back in on the moment, and realise Venetia was dragging you along with considerable purpose, "are you okay?"

"I need your robot brain to help me decide if something's funny or just gross."

"My robot brain?"

"You know everyone here because - and I say this with love - you're a freak about these things-"

"Didn't know Iona," you muttered, once again horrified, gaze going glassy as all you can think about is how you called her Misha. Her husband had a type; models from northern countries and very little sense of humour, it seemed. Venetia snapped her fingers in your face, frowning, keeping your mind from wandering too far.

"They got married a month ago, you probably won't even see her again," she rolled her eyes, taking you by the shoulders, leading you from the main entertaining area towards the main parlous, "but the point is, I know we refer to everyone as Aunt or Uncle or Cousin or whatever, but I'm not even actually at all related to like half of them," Venetia pauses, looking at you very seriously, "but you know the difference, right? Like if I pointed to someone, you'd know how exactly they're here?"

"Uh, yeah, of course," it's who you were, it's what you did, "don't you?"

"Not," she visibly hesitates, gaze shifting to look around the room, "not really," she admits, they're all just, you know, family. There's always been too many to bother with the how or why of any of them, unless mum or dad felt it was important for me and Felix to keep in mind specifically," but after a beat she met your gaze with a wolfish grin, "or if it was particularly scandalous." Okay, you think you're starting to get her intentions.

"So who are you wondering about and why?"

The way Venetia was smiling could not possibly mean anything good.

"So," Venetia took you by the shoulders and steered you through the grand foyer towards the stairs, as if on her way to yours or Felix's room. Her voice had gotten quieter, conspiratorial, "I've been watching this unfold all night," she explains gleefully, "and I did think it was rather bold to be looking to get someone in bed at a family reunion, though I supposed that there is a good chance that they're not even related; as we've discussed, family is a rather loose, fond title for many of them here tonight," she's choosing her words incredibly carefully, skirting around her point for dramatic effect, "and," she stops in the doorway by the red staircase; you think you can hear faint moaning not too far away. Venetia's voice is a whisper, "I wanted to give the benefit of the doubt, considering I'm pretty sure I've actually never seen this girl in my life, so I can't say who she belongs to here."

Around the corner there's an attempt at a shushing that sounds more masculine, judging by the whisper of laughter that accompanies it, and a young woman's giggled apology, followed by a breathy gasp, and the faint sound of wood scraping against the marble floor. You and Venetia peer around the corner like the Hardy boys, you ducking down and her leaning over you.

The girl in question is leaning back against the antique, wooden end table at the end of the short hall, head throw back, chest heaving with wanton breathes. Wearing a flowing, green dress that looked almost like silk, but was clearly rayon when you had seen her up close earlier, you knew immediately who she was. More importantly, you were surprised to see someone in a suit on their knees in front of her, beneath her dress.

Alyssa Morelli has seemed absolutely out of her mind with boredom and disdain for this entire affair in the brief few moments you'd spent with her. Like you she was seventeen, and was the eldest daughter of Sir James' estranged half sister. Having barely any information about her, and also trying to focus on not losing your cool regarding that fact, it had made conversation, at least for you, incredibly difficult.

She hated the wine, hated her mother for dragging her along, hated the way rich people talked about nothing, and thought everything about Saltburn, the Cattons, and the entire night was a frivolous display of meaningless excess and wealth. Rich people are such freaks, she'd told you, with a look that clearly said that includes you, and she's finished another glass of champagne with one large gulp and a shudder. For a long moment you'd looked at her - perhaps you could have been a little less unnerving about it, but she'd caught you off guard - as you tried to think of something to say.

"I think you'd thrive at university," you blurt out. She gives you a look like you were some kind of unpleasant bug, having the audacity to continue speaking to her. One of the staff passes with a tray of more champagne, and you pluck two glasses off, handing one to her as you continued, "however I would be fascinated to hear your thoughts on the way our classicist society prioritises and celebrates formal tertiary education" you let your gaze roam, holding your glass in both hands with the tips of your fingers, a dead giveaway of your nerves without you even realising, but for some reason she's still letting you talk, "and the idea of the pursuit of knowledge without that being a financially sustainable life choice anymore if you do it the wrong way. Why celebrate scientists when we just disregard modern philosophers?" You take a sip of your champagne and try and tell yourself to shut up, "I know the answer's 'because you can't profit off of philosophers as easily as you can scientists', but it just kind of sucks, don't you think?"

A long, uncomfortable silence follows.

"I swear at least Felix, Farleigh, and Venetia aren't freaks," you blurted out. Alyssa's shoulders relaxed just a little. At least you were self aware.

"Who?" Its... less hostile. You point out Felix and Farleigh headed out for a cigarette with a few others around your age, and Alyssa sighs, rolling her eyes. She's still clearly got Catton blood in her, her eyes and nose even remind you of Venetia. Still, she headed towards the side door; even her walk seemed to ooze contempt for the night.

Now, watching her, moonlight peaking down the stairs to catch the way she's beginning to glow with sweat, white-knuckled grip on the dark wood and her once perfectly straight, dark hair turning curly with moisture around her face and by her shoulders, you're actually a little glad to see it. At least she seemed to have found one person not entirely unbearable.

You knew all too well how overwhelming and isolating these events could be. As much as you felt you could relate, you couldn't really understand what she'd be going through, her first time at an event like this, feeling that there's people in the room who truly think you and your family outright don't belong. She should take her fun where she can get it, you think.

Shoving Venetia back to give the couple their privacy, you push her back into the parlour.

"Who is that?" Venetia demanded in a whisper, eyes bright. You sigh, shaking your head.

"Alyssa, she hasn't been to something like this before, just let her have her fun," after a beat, you step in a little closer, hands finding Venetia's hips as you attempted to distract her, "you know we could -"

"Alyssa who?" It hasn't worked. Venetia takes your hands, "this is important." There's something that goes beyond mischief in her eyes.

"Morelli," but she makes a face like that's not enough, "Aunt June's daughter." Venetia frowned.

"Aunt June's daughter married one of those Dubai millionaires five years ago and hasn't sent her a single pound or even a message since."

"That's your Great Aunt June- Juniper," you clarified without missing a beat, "she's not even related to any of you; your mum doesn't know who she was initially tied to in the family." Venetia takes a few moments to give you a look of faint, disbelieving awe. Clearing your throat, you looked back over your shoulder as the suggestive noises around the corner were growing louder, "Estranged Aunt June."

Venetia's eyes lit up with what could only be described as malevolent glee.

"So she's my cousin."

"Yes."

"Actually? Blood and all? Not just one of my uncles' weird friends who's been hanging around for decades so now we have to call them family?"

"I'm beginning to get afraid of your intentions, Ven," despite your wary smile, you weren't really joking. Venetia completely disregards this, however, holding your shoulders so tightly it begins to hurt.

"That girl," she points sharply, the kind of intensity in her eyes that absolutely means trouble, "just around the corner, moaning like a whore, getting fingered, tongued, whatever -" she wets her lips in some kind of anticipation, "is my actual, blood related cousin? And you're entirely sure of that?"

Taking a deep breath, unsure of what the repercussions of this all will be, you slowly nod.

"Yes..."

Venetia steps back, has to clap her hands over her mouth to muffle her positively gleeful laughter. For some unexpected reason, this piece of information seems to be some of the best news she's ever received in her life. It almost brings her to tears. After she calms down, you think you hear her mutter something along the lines of I'm never letting him live this down as she fans herself, attempting to calm herself.

"Ven, are you okay?" Still utterly confused about what any of this means, you can't help the concern you feel. Venetia's nodding, fighting back aftershocks of giggles, gazing often at the doorway.

"Yes, I- you're wonderful, thank you for helping me with that-" overcome by another, brief fit of giggles, it takes her a moment to compose herself, "I love you and your robot brain so very dearly -"

"Oh my god~" from around the corner, and another, louder shush. Venetia buries her face in her hands, echoing oh my god as she chokes on laughter once more. When she resurfaces, face bright red with amusement, you take her hand and try to insist that you should give them privacy.

"Yes, of course," Venetia agrees, suddenly trying to appear as serious as she's able, "I just have one other favour to ask you."

"What?" You ask flatly, unsurprisingly wary, watching her struggle not to grin.

"Could you tell my brother?"

The question hangs in the air for a long, confusing moment.

"Tell him what?"

"That Alyssa's our cousin."

"Sure...?" you frowned a little, peering over her shoulders, "I don't know where he is though, I haven't seen him in a while." Venetia smiles like the Cheshire Cat.

Oh... no... she isn't implying -? But Alyssa's timing is unfortunately perfect.

"Oh my god, Felix~"

Your mouth drops open in shock upon hearing that.

"Oh my God," you groaned, pained by the realisation as your face scrunched up with sudden understanding and disappointment, "Felix."

Venetia is absolutely right, he's never living this down.

"You had me prattling on for fucking ages about nothing, just letting them go at it all the while? You could have just asked!" You hissed, already mortified on his behalf.

"You're letting them go at it now!" She crowed quietly, and ah, fuck. Yeah, she had a point there.

Rounding the corner briskly, you cross your arms but at the very least keep your gaze to the floor.

"Felix -" you clear your throat.

"Oh, fuck off," Alyssa, seeing it's you, groans with frustration. There's movement beneath her dress when you glance up; there's something almost comical about knowing what you're seeing is Felix sitting up straighter under there.

"I know that's you, Y/N," Felix had enough dignity to not sound ashamed or caught out. But he should, "just, yeah mate, could you fuck off a bit?" Its not a particularly sharp request, and if this were any other situation, of course you'd obligingly fuck off. However...

"Well don't fucking stop," Alyssa hisses to him, sounding almost embarrassed by the fact that he was giving you the time of day right now, "seriously, fuck off!" She tries to whisper-shout, but halfway through her voice turns to an unsteady moan and her head falls back against the wall again, "OhmygodFelix~" she whines, bringing one of her legs up over his shoulder.

"So should I wait until after you get her off to tell you?"

"Tell him what you little pervert?" Alyssa, furious at your refusal to leave, demands.

"Hey, be nice to them," you hear, vaguely muffled from under her skirt. You have to snort a laugh.

"Thanks Fi, I'll just tell you now, uh," you can't look at them in this moment, fighting off your embarrassed smile at you look to the ceiling, "I don't think this is what your dad meant when he suggested you get to know Aunt June's kids; this might be too welcoming for your recently un-estranged cousin."

Around the corner you hear Venetia cackling like a banshee, clearly having been eavesdropping.

Felix scrambles back from under Alyssa's dress, looking an absolute mess.

"You what?"

"Oh my god." There's nothing lewd about it this time, Alyssa herself sounds absolutely fucking mortified.

----

The next morning, over breakfast, the mood is... strained. Its Sir James who breaks the ice, brightly - though it's clearly forced - commenting on how the night took such an unexpected and unfortunate turn. Felix, who likely doesn't even remember the end of the night considering how thoroughly plastered he got after his unfortunate affair with his cousin, looks to his father very suddenly, the sudden fear in his eyes about what his parents may know hidden by his large, dark glasses. He'd threatened to drown himself in the lake if you or Venetia told anyone, but his memory got fuzzy from there. The hangover that he's half worried might actually kill him doesn't help.

"Such a shame," Elspeth sighed, "I would have thought June would raise them better than that."

"Estranged Aunt June's daughter, Alyssa," you leaned over to Felix to stage whisper the context to him, half worried the paranoia might kill him there at the table. Venetia does however feel the need to smugly butt in and remind him -

"Our biological cousin."

"Apparently convinced her younger brothers to riot and start breaking all the crockery," you finished. Felix frowned in vague confusion, a feeling which Farleigh seemed to share.

"And it was so unnecessary, like she knew it was the first family thing her mom had been invited to in a decade -"

"She hates rich people and thinks we're freaks," you sat back, shrugging, "she told me so herself."

"Who, June?" Sir James sounded downright heartbroken at the idea, so you quickly shook your head.

"Alyssa." It seems to alleviate some of his concerns, but not a lot, and Sir James goes back to his breakfast still looking rather put out.

"Well maybe," Venetia leans her elbows on the table, bread knife in hand that she was using to flippantly gesture with, "there's some rich people that she should hate," her gaze and smug smile lands on you, as does the nonchalant way she's pointing with her knife, right before she flicks her wrist as if pointing at her brother by pure chance, "and some of us who are freaks."

Felix glared down at his breakfast.

"I don't know why we un-estranged Aunt June in the first place," he grumbled mostly to himself, though not quiet enough that the rest of the table didn't hear. Sir James sighed with disappointment.

"I think in future we may have to limit June's invitations to only her and her husband," he says, shaking his head. Elspeth kindly tells him that it's probably for the best.

Venetia, still apparently feeling petty, threw a bread roll at her brother, who hadn't looked up from where he seemed to be trying to divine life's secrets from his plate of sausages. It glances off his forehead, but knocks his glasses loose and into his breakfast. A second later Felix officially gives up and follows suit, faceplanting into his food.

"Oh my god, Felix!" His mother gasps with concern.

Despite Elspeth sounding nothing like Alyssa had the night before, the familiar phrase sets Venetia off, cackling with laughter at the top of her lungs. While the rest of the table is utterly confused by the series of events that have just occurred, you scoot your chair over close to Felix, patting him sympathetically on the back. Beneath the table, he rests his hand on your knee to give a grateful squeeze. When he talks, only you can hear it, resigned and half muffled by scrambled eggs.

"Hate this family."

[talkethtothehandeth]

As much as I agree that people who have EDS shouldn’t talk over people who have worse disabilities than us, and as firmly as I believe that disabled people should let other disabled people speak about their struggles without comparing it to EDS, I need you to know that having EDS, especially my type— the one you find more often than other types, is not just “being bendy”.

I was diagnosed with EDS when I was a baby. I was very lucky, and was able to receive treatment (whether good or bad) quicker than others. However, EDS caused my hip dysplasia, it caused the condition that affected my mobility to the point where I needed three corrective hip surgeries; it was the cause of my bone not forming, I needed a bone donor to aid in correction. I have three long scars on my bikini line where Dr Caroll (from Shriner’s in Utah) cut into me in order to give me a better chance of having less limited mobility.

EDS isn’t just me being able to play bendy straw with my hands, it isn’t just me having to deal with “fake dislocations, it’s subluxations so it’s not that bad”. It caused my scoliosis, it caused my arthritis from my joints going out of place so often. I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis as a child, but as I got older, my arthritis spread to more places. I have burning nerve pain that makes me want to die, I have partial paralysis whenever my body decides to attack me spontaneously, I have dystonia, I have hearing loss, allergic reactions, and pain in every joint in my entire body. From head to toe, all of my joints, all of my muscles.

EDS is something that has severely impacted and negatively effected my entire body. It took everything from me, it took my already limited mobility, it took my peace, it took my mental health, it took my most beloved hobby ever— riding horses. I cannot sit to play piano, use my hands for my guitar, sit in a chair for more than 30 minutes without my back muscles screaming.

I took 14 pills every single day with multiple prescriptions because of what EDS has caused. I am undiagnosed with something that nearly killed me last year, everyone was preparing for me to die, and it has been dismissed by anxiety or an eating disorder, it is caused by my disease. EDS will affect me for the rest of my life.

EDS isn’t “just” being hyper mobile. This isn’t just a small disease that people go through, it is life altering and life compromising and life threatening from all of the comorbidities that come along with it; it is debilitating, it is isolating, it is pain that cannot be treated with even IV morphine, it is a constant, unrelenting acid rain condition just as many other physical disabilities.

People who have EDS shouldn’t try to play the Sick Olympics, we shouldn’t go to someone’s page and say “I’M JUST AS SICK AND DISABLED AS YOU ARE”. We should take the time to listen to people who have it worse, because so often they get ignored by abled people, they don’t need other disabled people to say that their conditions aren’t worse just because we have it bad. So many people are definitely more disabled than I am, and that absolutely does not erase my struggles.

Every physical disability affects the body in different ways, and every physical disability isn’t necessarily comparable to others. My degenerative arthritis isn’t the same as someone’s ankylosing spondylitis. My joints are fucked and my mobility has been significantly decreased as my disease has progressed. I am not going to compare my knees that will need to be replaced to someone whose spine is literally fusing together. Even though it’s a form of arthritis, it isn’t the same as mine and it isn’t my place to pretend it is.

But someone saying “it’s just hyper mobility” is perpetuating a harmful narrative, because people already don’t believe us, our stuff doesn’t show in labs and it only shows during further and extensive testing that many doctors don’t want to pursue because we’re “faking” or “being over dramatic”, because it isn’t “that bad”, it’s just bendy joints, it’s not debilitating./s It isn’t just being bendy, it is so much more and doesn’t need to be dismissed solely because it isn’t the same or as severe as someone else’s condition. Even if someone does have it worse, it doesn’t mean that EDS isn’t bad, and just because someone has EDS, it doesn’t mean it’s always comparable and needs to be shouted to the world on people’s posts about a completely different situation.

[olderthannetfic]

I hope you dont mins me asking

But how would you suggest the best way to not be so anxious in fandoms these days.

It just seems like im going to be bullied out of fandom for even wanting to be in fandom. Regardless of the kind of content i like or how i like it. Its just seems like people who are in fandom dont want to themselves and not really about older or newer fans not wanting more new fans... Just.. They dont want fandom to exist at all anymore. If thta makes sense

Ive been in fandom for years but only recently bacame an adukt and now i really wanna start getting more involved.. I recently started a series oneshot fic thats gonna take alot of time.. But i havent even posted an actual chaoter yet and i am so afraid of gettijg a bunch of shit for it.

Its not meant to be anything explicit infact i made it very sfw bexause thats what i wanted.

But what of someone decides hey fuck you this sucks and now im going to make up reasons that your fic is (ableist, racist, homophobic stuff like that). And i just... I want to write.

Years ago i was in a much older fandom(transformers g1 if you can believe it) and it was so nice there. Maybe its because i was young but theres wasnt nearly so much anti bullshit that there is now especially in newer fandoms.

I know theres like block and ignore and delete comments but... I dont want to deal with it. And i probably know there isnt realky anytjing i can actually do about it

Its just so bad. I want to participate in fandom, but fandom is so terrible these days. Ive seen so many of my favorite artists fucking dissapear over being bullied for something they said years ago thats now considered "worthy of being tortured alive" for saying.

I just want it all to stop. I thought fandom would get better as it became more popular. Artists would have more freedom and stuff.

Instead im afraid im going to get bullied for a fucking teen rated gen fic with zero shipping, zero dark theme, and zero sex on the off chance someone thinks its not good enough. Suddenly its not appropriate for teenagers for some dumb reason

When i fucking was one two years ago. (like mate i was reading robot porn at ELEVEN)

Im so tired. I think the only good thing about the fandom im in is the fact the creators of the media are actually super chill and even supportive about fans selling fanworks and comms of characters and stuff

This was supoosed to be a simple question but ig im just so sick of how fandom is that i ended up ranting about it.

--

Getting more popular makes things much worse, not better.

But overall, anxiety is about you and your internal emotional state.

There was always danger of being attacked. It looks different now, but fear isn't more or less justified in the present day. The actual level of danger isn't the issue here.

[eddie-van-munson]

Lightning Bolts (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: (Hurt/Comfort) You haven't touched Eddie since he came home from the hospital. He assumes it's because you're disgusted by the way he looks, covered in scars from the Upside Down, but that couldn't be further from the truth. In reality, you're just afraid of losing him again.

Warnings: Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Triggers, Eddie has Scars from the Demobat Attack and Dislikes Them, Anxiety/PTSD, Talk of Death, Series Typical Violence, Spoilers, Cursing.

Requested by: @mazzeeeliz (a fic inspired by the song "A Love Like Ours" by Aron Wright). I found most of my inspiration from the line, "This isn't the end, It's only a season. A love like ours will never die." This fic is kind of all over the place though jdbfnd I'm so sorry.

(Medical Triggers: Eddie is in the Hospital after the Demobat attack. Non-Descript Mentions of Wounds, Injections, Blood etc.)

***********

"Why's it-? Hurts... hurts. It's...Fuck..."

Eddie's head wasn't there yet when his eyes finally opened. He couldn't get many words out, just a mumbled assortment of curses, whimpers, and slurred questions. His dark brows were furrowed with confusion as he weakly tried to pull the IV from his arm and tug his bandages off. He struggled against Steve pitifully when he reached out to stop him, his mind still disoriented and half asleep, but he was too frail to fight it. Your throat tightened at the sight of fear clouding in his eyes. You didn't like it. Not at all.

You'd been so desperate to see those pretty brown eyes open again. You'd wanted to hear his voice.

But now they were open, and when you searched for any sort of coherence or recognition in them, there was nothing.

He was speaking, but no words were there. Only croaked sobs and hoarse indications of pain.

Eddie wasn't awake yet. Not really. You almost wished he was asleep again, if only so he wouldn't hurt. He wouldn't be afraid.

You took his hand in yours as you stood beside him, Steve holding his other one to keep him from hurting himself. You hushed him softly as tears filled his big dark eyes, reaching up to feel his head. He was still warm from infection, but he was better. "It's ok, baby. You're safe. Just relax." You hummed as his breathing slowed. "There we go...that's it."

You dragged your fingertip over his face soothingly, tracing around his forehead and down across his nose. He calmed, staring up at you as you traced his cupid's bow and around his jaw.

"I know you're afraid, sweetheart. You don't know where you are, do you? Or why you're hurting..." You cooed to him gently. "You probably don't even know who we are, yet. But we're going to make it feel better, ok? Just gotta relax, for me."

He eased as you stroked his hair, running your fingers through his tangled curls. Some of the fear faded from his expression, leaving fogginess in his drug blown pupils. You brushed a tear from his cheek.

"Are you hurting bad?" You kept your voice steady and calm, holding his gaze. He gave a  dizzy nod. "Ok, angel. We'll find you some more medicine."

You hadn't been able to take him to the hospital. There'd been a hundred reasons why, the least of which being that he immediately would have been arrested for three counts of murder. He'd be sent to prison as soon as he healed. That is, if he healed. Small town doctors and nurses weren't exactly trained on procedures related to inter-dimensional bat maulings.

Instead, you took him to the lab, praying the whole way that there was something they could do. That you'd make it in time.

He'd been unconscious for days, his torn body pumped with drugs to keep him asleep and stable. They'd given him an emergency blood transfusion, and it was the longest 12 hours of your life. You paced the hallway, waiting. Waiting to see if his body would accept the transfusion. Waiting to see if they could knit him back together. Waiting to see if he'd live through the night.

You sobbed in relief when they said he was stable enough for you to see him. They'd decided put him under, which was dangerous in the state he was in, but it had to be done. It would have been cruel to risk him waking up like this, and he needed to be kept still and at rest to aid him in healing.

It'd been a few days, now, and Owens was starting to transition him off of the general anesthetic. He'd warned you it would take him a while to get his head back, if it came back at all. There was a possibility it wouldn't after that kind of physical trauma. You didn't let yourself even consider that possibility.

He was under sedation still, but it was more to keep his muscles relaxed and ease him awake. Even though he was conscious, he wouldn't remember. He was stuck in between sleep and awake. Owens called it "twilight".

You could see him thinking, his tired eyes searching your face and the room as if it were a puzzle to solve. He stared at you, brow furrowed like it was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't quite make the connection. You held his hand for a long time, soothing him as tears rolled down his flushed cheeks.

"Y/N." It was practically a whisper. His voice was hoarse, but it was there.

The relief that spread over you was like a warm, sweet tidal wave. "That's right, baby. You starting to come back to us?"

Steve stood when he heard him speak, only to return a moment later with a glass of water. Eddie stared up at him as you gave a soft 'thanks', studying his friend in quiet confusion. Steve smiled, giving him a little wave. "Hey, man."

Eddie's paused, his expression relaxing, and swallowed thickly. You could have cried when he spoke, again. His voice was so small and pitiful, "Hey."

He sounded like a scared little boy.

His sweet, sleepy brown eyes found yours again, and you frowned, grazing your thumb along his chapped lips protectively. "You want some water, baby?"

He took a moment to process, but gave a slow nod, his hand coming up to reach for the glass.  You held it for him, helping him take slow sips.

"Y/N..." He murmured, squirming weakly in his sheets. "Hurts."

"I know, sweet boy. It'll feel better soon, I promise." You glanced to Steve and he nodded, leaving to get the nurses. Eddie whined softly and glanced around, as if he was trying to find what was causing the pain.

For the first time, he saw himself. Really saw himself. He was covered in bandages, countless lines of stitches scattering over the few parts of him he could see. The bites. You watched his eyes as he realized the state he was in, a few pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. Immediately his breathing started to quicken with panic. A sob escaped his throat, his hand trembling where you held it, and he gave you a panicked look.

"I've got you, Eds. It's ok..."

His lower lip quivered when he exhaled, tears welling over and rolling down his cheeks. He scrunched his face uncomfortably, voice cracking. "Hurts...it hurts."

 "Hey..." You fought your own tears as you cradled his chin, making him look up at you. His pulse sped as you guided him in slow breaths. "They're coming to fix it, baby. I've got you."

"Make me go to sleep. Please. Please make me sleep." His voice was rough. He squeezed your hand, giving another little sob. "I don't want to look at it."

Your lip quivered as you held his face in your hands, trying to keep him from upsetting himself further. His beautiful brown eyes were so full of pain it made you feel ill. You choked pitifully, "I love you so much, Eds. I'm sorry. I'm...I'm so sorry." 

The door opened. Steve and the nurse.

"What's wrong?" Steve took one of Eddie's hands, trying to relax him. You couldn't answer. Vaguely, you could hear the nurse talking to Steve. He's panicking. You brushed the tears from his cheeks as you watched the nurse prepare a sedative from the corner of your eye. It's better to put him back to sleep. His heart rate is getting too high. Steve flashed you a concerned look as he reached out to take hold of Eddie's bicep. Can you keep him still for me? Eddie clung to Steve's forearm where he held him, inhaling sharply at the injection. He tensed in your arms, and you hushed him sweetly as he went still.

"We've got you, Eds." Steve's brow furrowed as he watched his body sink slowly. "That's it."

You cradled him against you as you watched his eyes finally go empty, his head lulling back. Slowly, you let him go, allowing his body to fully relax into the mattress before immediately breaking into sobs. Steve rushed to you, pulling you into a tight hug, but the words still echoed in your head.

It hurts. Make me go to sleep. I don't want to look at it.

***********

Months Later

Eddie was desperate to be touched. He ached for it.

He'd healed. His stitches had come out, leaving hundreds of scars. The bites were hardly visible to anyone but himself now, but the larger wounds on his ribs and chest were dark and un-ignorable. And they always would be.

Eddie hated them. He hated every last one of them. He hated the memories they gave him of blinding pain and the feeling of blood soaking his clothes. But more than that, he hated how they looked.

He knew it sounded stupid. Vain, even. But he'd never been very happy with his appearance in the first place. He'd learned to live with his looks Sophomore year, when he'd grown his hair out, but he'd never liked his face or his body. He was always too lanky. Too pasty. Too thin in some places and too soft in others. Too many acne scars and stretch marks.

But now? He'd kill to look the way he used to. It made him sick to think he'd ever complained about it in the first place, because you hadn't touched him since he left that lab.

The government had pulled some strings, airing news stories all over Hawkins.

Man Found with Murder Weapon: A Breakthrough for The Cunningham Case

Finally Behind Bars! Hawkins Breathes a Sigh of Relief!

Justice is Served in Local Murder Cases

They gave a name and a picture, some guy no one had ever seen before, and that was that. The town was appeased and no one really went to jail. No more Munson Murders.

Still, Eddie stayed inside with you at the apartment you shared, too sickened by the idea of stares. It was a new feeling for him. He'd always welcomed the stares. He couldn't, anymore.

He'd been out once. He went to the grocery store down the street for cigarettes and milk. A little girl stared at him in the grocery isle, and he didn't think much of it at first. Kids stared at him a lot. They thought his clothes were funny. He smiled at her, giving her a little wave. Without warning, her eyes went wide, terror filling them when she realized he was looking at her. Tears welled in her big baby blues as she broke into cries at the sight of him, hiding her face in her mother's leg. Her mother looked over, picking her daughter up and soothing her as she mouthed an apology.

He hadn't left the house since. Every time he thought he could, he imagined those big blue eyes filling with tears.

You took care of him, though. You were patient. You listened. You let him cry. A lot. But you didn't touch him.

You'd only hold him in your sleep, rolling over and wrapping your arms around him tightly as you murmured nonsense. It was heaven, every time. He waited so patiently for you to fall asleep each night so he could pull you into his arms and feel your skin, warm against his.

The only time you still wanted him was when your eyes were closed. He tried not to let that hurt his feelings. He didn't blame you.

Today marked another month. Eddie didn't want the alarm to go off. He wanted you to stay in his arms, snuggled in against the crook of his neck where you still loved him. Where you still wanted him.

He kissed your forehead, traveling down to your nose, and you curled in closer. He smiled, gathering your locks up off your nape as he laid you down against the mattress. You barely stirred. Slowly, as not to scare you, he nuzzled his face in your neck, letting his hand lace through your hair and cradle your head. His lips were warm and soft as he peppered them over the sensitive skin of your throat. You moaned softly, head tilting back. A hot breath fanned your skin as he breathed a relieved sob, letting his kisses deepen. You hummed his name breathlessly, your fingers lacing in his curls.

He gave a gorgeous sound as you searched for friction against him, needily. He groaned, pushing your baby hairs back off of your forehead as your sleepy eyes fluttered open. Lazily, you slid your palm up his chest and over his throat, gazing your thumb over his cheek as you pulled him down into a kiss. He felt like he was going to pass out, he was in such bliss. You were warm and gentle with him, and you'd just found his soft spot right below his ear when your kisses slowed to a stop. A scar. It was tiny, just two faint spots from the fangs of a bat, but it was there. Your stomach went cold.

 It hurts. Make me go to sleep. I don't want to look at it.

Suddenly, your skin felt icy. You were looking into his pained eyes, watching him beg you to be put under. You were putting pressure against his shoulder, praying and sobbing as he choked on his own blood. You were outside the trailer, watching him be shredded by a million bats. Hearing him scream.

You tensed, and Eddie immediately stopped, pulling back. He looked you over, concern furrowing his brow, "What's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No...no I'm..." You pulled your shirt on, and the mattress dipped as you stood, headed towards the closet. "I'm late for work."

He frowned, glancing towards the alarm clock. It hadn't even gone off yet. "Babe, you've still got an hour before you've got to leave."

You blanched, fumbling for an answer as you hit a button the alarm clock, cancelling it. "I know I just...um...I wanted to get there early. There's some stuff that needs done.

He wanted to cry. "Y/N..."

You turned to him, your heart aching when you saw the look on his face.

"I need you talk to me." His shoulders were slumped, his arms wrapped around himself where he sat in bed. "I feel like you've got a million things going on in your head lately and I don't have any idea what a single one of them is."

He looked so small. So insecure and hurt. You sat in front of him, taking his hand in your own as you tucked one of his curls behind his ear.

"I just..." You took a shaky breath. "I don't think we should do anything too physical yet, Eds. You're still healing."

"I need you to touch me." He croaked, tears stinging his nose. "I need it. And if you don't want to touch me, I understand that. I know you didn't sign up to be with Freddie Kruger, but I need you to tell me that if that's the case. I can't keep holding out hope that you'll want me again."

You shook your head, your stomach knotting sickly as your jaw dropped, "Eddie no...God no, Eddie. That's not it. That's not it at all. I-...I don't want to hurt you, baby."

"I'm healed. I've...I've been stitched up. Everything is closed and strong, again. Owens said." He sniffled, rubbing at his tear stained cheeks. "I...I need you. If you still want me, then I need you. I need you to hug me after work again. I need you to kiss me goodnight and make love to me. I need you to hold me on the couch when we watch movies. I need things to be normal because I don't...I don't feel human anymore."

"Eddie..." Your eyes finally brimmed over as Eddie gave a sob. Trembling, you crawled into his lap. His arms wrapped around you so tight it nearly hurt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You bury your head in his shoulder. "I'm afraid. 'm just afraid. I can't bear to see you in anymore pain, Eds."

You'd been distant. You knew you had been. For months you'd longed to touch him, but the fears in your head deterred you from even trying. Every time you found yourself wanting to let your hands wander, your head clouded with thoughts.

What if he reopens a wound? What if his heart can't handle that yet? What if he's in pain but he's too embarrassed to tell me?

You'd been so terrified to hurt him that you hadn't realized you were doing exactly that. Hurting him. You'd been neglecting him for months, all in the name of keeping him safe.  You'd left him thinking you didn't want him. That his body was too marred to be desirable to you.

"Look at me...Look at me." You held his jaw firmly in your hands as his breathing steadied, his warm, glossy brown eyes watching you.  Your thumb grazed over his cheek, "There's not been a moment where I haven't wanted you."

You said it sternly, leaving no room for negotiation. Eddie shook his head, his forehead creasing with confusion. "I don't understand."

You sighed, guiding him to lay his head against your chest. He gave a shakey breath, taking in your body warmth and the feel of your hands in his hair as he listened to your heartbeat.

"They had to restart your heart." You struggled to say it, an ache churning inside you at the memory of his body jolting under the charged paddles. "They had to pump you full of drugs and keep you asleep...You were so fragile, baby. Never knew if you'd make it through the night..." You held him tighter, comforting yourself. "You could've left me at any moment."

Eddie rubbed your back, sweetly. He clung to you, as if he were trying to protect you from your own memories.

"And when you came to you..." You choked a little, trying to take a deep breath. "Your eyes were so empty at first...and then you were in so much pain. You begged me to make you go to sleep."

Eddie's chest lurched. You'd never told him that, before. He imagined, momentarily, how he'd have felt if it had been you laying in that bed instead of him. He immediately went nauseous.

"I felt like I was torturing you. Keeping you alive with tubes and machines and drugs just because I wanted you to stay. Owens told me the moment he saw you that it might be more humane to let you go...but I couldn't do it, Eddie."

Eddie pulled back to look at you with big sweet eyes.

 "And then you were better and you were home. I didn't want to let myself get used to having you. I felt like the universe was going to play some cruel joke and take you away again. It'd been touch and go for so long. You were so fragile. If something happened...I wouldn't be able to keep going if I lost you again, sweetheart."

You gave a quiet sob as he reached up to brush away your tears.

"I've wanted you so bad for so long, but I'm so scared. I don't want to risk hurting you." You kissed the top of his hair, "I thought if I didn't touch you I couldn't hurt you, but I did. I hurt you so bad, Eddie. Made you feel unwanted. Made you feel like you aren't the most beautiful boy I've ever seen."

"You don't have to say that."

"I'm not saying it because I have to, baby." You rubbed your eyes. "I mean it. I mean it so fucking much."

You were in awe of him as you sat in his lap, his cheeks still pink and his eyelashes stuck together with tears. He pressed a kiss to the pad of your finger as you traced his lips.

Your voice was barely whisper when you spoke again, "Sometimes I wake up before you do, and the sun is just starting to rise...the heat from it turns your nose pink."

He smiled softly, and you can't help but smile too.

"Most of the time you're still dreaming. You talk in your sleep, Eds. Did you know that? You make the sweetest little sounds. The funniest faces."

He watched you as you replayed a memory in your head.

"I could watch you forever like that. Warm and sleepy and happy...God, you're so pretty, angel. You're so pretty. You're perfect. I'll say it a million times a day now, huh? I'm not gonna let you forget it ever again. I've wanted you so bad, sweetheart. You have no idea."

Eddie was breathless, his throat tight. "I'm sorry."

Your brow furrowed, "For what?"

"I should've realized something else was going on." His voice was rocky with emotion. "I love you. I know you. You'd never stop loving me over something like this. I wasn't fair to you. I just..." He bit his lip. "Everything changed between us and when I look in the mirror, I don't like what I see. I just assumed you didn't like it either."

You pulled him close, kissing his forehead and his nose, "Eddie Munson, you could have horns and green skin and I'd still want you. I mean it. You've got me whipped. You could have feathers sprouting out your ass."

His eyes welled as you gave him a sweet kiss. He murmured against your lips, his tightening throat making his words hoarse, "What if it's worse than that?"

You pulled back, crooking your brow, "Worse than feathers sprouting out your ass?"

He laughed softly, wiping tears on the back of his hand as he sniffled. "You haven't had a look at me in a while. I didn't exactly...heal well."

You stroked his hair, looking concerned. "What do you mean by that? Do you still hurt?"

"No. The marks are-"

"The marks? Your scars? Is that what this is about?"

He nodded, swallowing, and gave a humorless laugh. "Like I said. Freddie Kruger."

Your heart sank as he poked fun at himself, trying to cover up his own insecurity. You shook your head, resting against his chest as you toyed with the collar of his shirt. He used to sleep without one, but he'd grown to favor throwing on a Megadeath shirt he'd accidentally gotten a few sizes too big.

"They're such a comfort to me, Eds."

A comfort. What? Eddie's forehead creased as he looked down at you. They usually did the opposite for him.

"How?" His voice was shy, as if he still halfway expected rejection.

"I saw you torn up, Eds. You bled out in my arms. I can't tell you how good it is to see where your body has healed from that."

Oh. Oh. He'd never thought of it like that.

"I have nightmares a lot." You hummed, quietly. "When I wake up scared I can just trace your arms. Look over you." You hold his hand to you, admiring the swirling dips that'd been forever carved into his skin. "I thought some of these would kill you. But you're still here, and all that's left of the hurt is just..." You trailed off, smiling softly as you admired him. "Lightning bolts."

He exhaled, amazed. "Lightning bolts."

"Silver and pink..."  You drew the jagged line  across his forearm, looking up at him. "Can I see the one on your heart?"

You hadn't seen it up close since it had healed. Maybe you'd caught a glimpse or two of it while he changed, but you wanted to touch him. Fear still bubbled in your chest at the idea of your hands on him, but the want in his expression eased it.

He laid back against the pillows, curls mussing as he tugged the large shirt up over his head. Your insides fluttered. You were straddling his hips now, your hands tentatively creeping up over his belly as a warmth settled low in your tummy. "Oh, sweetheart..." 

He was gorgeous. The deep, rosy tear ran right right up to his collarbone, tapering at the ends. The tattoo on his chest had been nearly split in half by it. He stared up at you as you touched him. Admired him. He could see that you liked what you saw. That you wanted it. He could feel it, too.

Heat was starting to pool between your legs where he was pressed against you. It'd been so long. This sweet boy wanted you so bad, and it'd been so long.

"Eddie..." His palms slid up your thighs, giving you a squeeze as they rested there. "Can I tell you something?" You planted your hands on his abdomen.

He nodded, unable to find words. The sensation of your body warmth against his middle was making him feel dizzy and drunk.

"I've missed having you inside me, Eddie." He groaned at your whisper, and your cheeks heated as you sat pressed against his bulge. Your panties were getting damp against his boxers. "Sometimes, I'd lock myself in the bathroom and-"

He bucked weakly against you and you gasped, searching for friction with a few rocks of your hips. His throat went dry. "What did you do, Y/N?"

"Touched myself."

"Jesus baby..."

He thrusted up against you, bouncing you in his lap a little. You gasped at the feeling, biting your lip.

"I did it too." He choked out, trying to catch his breath. "I touched myself, too. Got off when you went to work...Y/N, please. Please touch me. Please."

Your eyes went wide as he begged you.

"We can take it slow, have a safe word just in case, I don't care, but I'm so hard. It hurts..."

It hurts. Make me go to sleep. I don't want to look at it.

You tensed, looking down at your love below you. There he was, beautiful and breathing. And there were his scars. You could feel the roughness of them as you traced your fingertips over his skin. Touching all of the places he'd healed. His pretty brown doe eyes looked up at you pleadingly. You took a deep breath, reeling your mind back in, and sat up on all fours.

Eddie's breath quivered as you nuzzled your face against his cock in his boxers, your hot breath making your name fall from his lips like a prayer. You slipped your fingers into his waistband and pulled them down off of his hips, revealing is painfully red cock. He was visibly throbbing, leaking pre-cum onto his sweet soft tummy with every pulse.

"Fuck Eds. Is this all for me?" Tears rolled down his cheeks as he nodded, whimpering as you kissed up his shaft chastely. "I've been neglecting you, haven't I? Made you hurt so bad. I'm so sorry, angel." 

He reached down for your hand.  You thought he was going to wrap it around his length, but instead he laced your fingers with his, needily. Your heart melted.

"Sweet boy...I'm gonna take such good care of you all day. I'll make you feel so good you forget your own name. Do you think that'll make up for it? Is that a good start?" You sucked one of his swollen balls into your mouth, releasing it with a pop.

His stomach tensed with pleasure, "But-"

"I'll call out of work, Eds. Don't worry about that. I've let my angel forget how pretty he is. I need to remind him. That's all I'm worried about, right now."

He gave a little sob, words breaking, "I love you."

"I love you most, pretty. I love you so much." He squeezed your hand, eyes fluttering shut as his body relaxed. "That's it, sweetheart. Just lay back and let your head go dumb for me. I've got you."

You dipped your free hand between your legs, gathering your slick on your fingers and bringing it back up to his cock. You pumped him a few times, smearing yourself over him before dragging your tongue from his base to his head. Eddie's pretty back arched as his brow furrowed with pleasure. He watched you as you sank your throat down onto him, stroking his base as you bobbed on his length messily.

"Whoa, no no no stop. Holy shit, you've gotta stop."

You froze, pulling off of him so fast as panic settled in your belly. You crawled up him to cradle his face, thumbs stroking his flushed cheeks. "Hey, what's wrong baby? What hurts? Is it too much?"

"No, no 'm ok." He rasped. "I was just..." He trailed off, ears going red.

You smiled softly, "What is it, gorgeous?"

He preened under your praise, his eyes squeezing shut, "I just...I was about to..."

"About to cum?" You brushed his baby hairs back out of his face, fondly.

"Yeah", He gave a pitiful laugh, rubbing his eyes. "Nearly creamed myself. I'm surprised I've made it this long. I feel like a blushing virgin."

You grinned, kissing him as you draped your body over his carefully. "Why'd you stop me? You should've taken what you needed."

"I want to be inside you."

You wiggled your eyebrows at him, "I can wait fifteen minutes, angel."

"I can't." He whined pitifully. "Miss you too bad. I'll let you suck my cock later. I promise."

"Oh you will, huh?" He grinned at that. A real, chesire, Eddie-grin. You giggled in spite of yourself.

"Don't be a brat." He groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry." You coo, "I forgot that's your job."

He laughed brightly, reaching down to tickle your sides in retaliation. You squirmed, pulling him into a distracting kiss. He hummed against you, pouting. "I'm a brat now? I thought I was your pretty boy?"

You trailed your lips down his throat, his breath growing ragged as you dragged your tongue over the little bat bite. You nipped at his earlobe, sucking it. "Oh sweetheart, of course you are." You punctuated your words with kisses as you worked your way down to suck his collarbone. "My pretty, sweet, perfect little brat."

Sitting up, you straddled his hips again, rocking back and forth for a moment to push your soaked panties down off of your legs. He groaned deep in his chest at the sight of you, and you smiled, taking his hand in yours.

"Close your eyes, for me." He smiled softly, obeying. You inched up his chest, opening his hand and bringing it between your legs.

"Holy shit..." The moan he gave as his fingers slid through you was so pretty you could have cried, "You're so fucking wet." He let himself explore for a moment before you felt the heel of his palm graze your clit, his index and pinkie fingers pressing into the creases of your thighs . His hand pressed flush against your pelvic bone as he slid up into you, his middle finger hooking inwards against a soft spot below your belly.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie." You squeaked, holding his wrist in place as he fucked you with his thick fingers. "Shit, sweetheart. Those bats could've eaten half your fucking brain and you'd still know how to make me cum on these pretty fingers, wouldn't you?"

He laughed, smiling lazily at the praise. Your eyes scrunched, and he could see your stomach starting to tense as he rubbed small, tight circles directly over your g-spot. Your hips bucked into his hand and he bit the tip of his tongue, brows furrowing with focus as you started to clench around him. You pushed down on his wrist, pulling his fingers from inside you.

He whined, frowning as if you'd deprived him of something, "Why'd you do that for?"

You smirked as you caught your breath, watching him bring his fingers into his mouth to suck them clean. "Because..."

You spread your thighs where you straddled him, lowering your cunt enough to slowly glide your heat over the length of his shaft.

His head pulled back with a moan, and you leaned in, kissing his sweet lips. "...I want to cum on this perfect cock."

He pulled you back down into another kiss, a longer one. "I still feel like I'm dreaming." He whispered, his nose burning. "Feel like I'm gonna wake up and you'll be gone, again."

Pain bled through your chest, your eyes going glossy. "That's how I've felt ever since you came to, Eds."

"Well, if this is a dream..." He cradled your face, his nose nuzzled against yours, lovingly. He offered you his pinkie. "Let's just promise each other we won't ever wake up."

A tear brimmed over, and you brushed it away quickly and hooked your little finger with his. "I love you, so much Eddie Munson." He smiled sweetly, his dimples showing. "If you ever die on me again I'm gonna kill you."

The corner of your mouth tugged, "Not if you behave."

He laughed loudly, his head lulling back. He groaned with a smile, squeezing your thighs. "You're half way there, hovering that pretty cunt over my cock like that. So cruel...You gonna make me beg again?"

He exhaled sharply, bucking his hips, desperately as you reached a hand down to stroke him, lining him up at your entrance.

"Y/N L/N..." He murmured gently, his head lulling back.

"What is it, gorgeous?"

"I love you too."

Your stomach fluttered as you sank onto him, and you were unsure if it was because of the words or from the feeling of him splitting you open. Curses fell from his lips as your brow furrowed, a dull ache forming in your tummy. It'd been too long. Much too long.

"Fuck, sweetheart. I'm not gonna last long." He croaked, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"M-Me neither." You whimpered softly, "This is a lot better than your fingers."

He laughed, and you gasped a little, feeling him move inside you. You chased the sensation, rolling your hips on him. He nudged the same tender spot as before with every movement.

"That's it. Ride me, angel...Feels so fucking good." He babbled weakly as you grinded on him, your slick heat smearing over his lower tummy.

You whimpered softly, a tear rolling down your cheek, "Eddie..."

His hands found your hips, knowing you needed more, and lifted you off of him just enough to drop you back down. He thrusted upwards, bouncing you down onto his cock. Your head fell back, your whimpers going choppy with every thrust of his hips.

"That's it, baby. Let me know how good it feels."

You cried out, the lewd sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin filling the room. His hips against your ass. Deep. Deep. Deep. You felt an ache inside you. An itch that needed scratching.

He pulled you down to lay against his chest, and you could feel him throbbing, his hips still thrusting up into you. Your walls tightened around him.

"Ed-d-d-d-ie" Your voice was small and hoarse, your face buried in the crook of his neck. "I'm..."

"That's it, honey. Cum around my cock. Soak me, sweetheart. I've got you."

"I love you, Eds. I love you so much. I'm close I'm cu-- Oh, Oh, Oh..."

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you went limp, every nerve ending in your body frying into warm TV static as you stomach spammed and pulsed around him. You could distantly hear him moaning as he thrusted into you one, two, three more times. He gasped your name hoarsely, clinging to you as you felt his heat fill your belly.

For a long time you laid there, your bodies smeared with a million different kinds of sin. Neither of you would let go of one another. Eddie whimpered softly as occasional aftershocks made your muscles twitch around him.

He could feel a sticky mixture of cum and wetness starting to drip down onto his hip from your cunt. You locked eyes as he pulled out, reaching down between you to dip two of his fingers inside you. You squirmed a little, but went still as you watched him bring his fingers back up to show you. He hummed softly as he spread them, sticky, glistening strings forming between his coated didgets. He made eye contact as he brought them into his mouth, sucking his fingers clean.

You scrunched your nose, "You're nasty."

Eddie burst into loud laughter grinning, as he rubbed your thighs. He gave a fond hum,  "Nah, baby. We taste good together."

You stared up at him. He could tell he'd made you curious. He crooked his finger and you moved closer, letting him pull you into a dirty, messy kiss. You moaned as your tongue grazed his, and you tasted yourself on him. A thin string of saliva and cum stuck between you when you parted, breaking when you licked your lips. He giggled, gathering some from your chin onto his thumb and letting you kiss it from the pad of his finger.

He gave an wicked grin, "Now you're nasty too."

You rolled your eyes, pressing little kisses to a few of the scars on his chest. Eddie's heart melted as you nuzzled against the marks on his chest, resting your head there. You were quiet for a long time, just enjoying touch again.

"I love you so much." You cooed so softly. He could tell just from your voice that you were falling asleep. "I think you're so beautiful." 

He smiled, cradling your face. "I know you do, baby." He tapped his fingertip on your nose. "I'm sorry I forgot."

"I'm sorry I let you forget."

Your forehead creased with guilt but he tutted, rubbing the furrow from your brow with his thumb. "No no no...that's enough of that. I simply cannot allow you to look so sad after I've just fucked your brains out. It would ruin my reputation."

You fought a laugh, but lost out. "You're such an asshole. I was trying to be sweet."

He grinned, humming. "You're always sweet."

"Is that a problem?" You played with his curls, passively.

 "A huge problem, actually. Wish you'd knock me around a little. Put me in my place, you know? Call me your little slut?"

You smirked, "You'd cry like a baby."

He laughed, sighing. "Definitely." He rolled you over, tucking his head into the crook of your shoulder to press kisses along your jaw. "Can't help it though. I like being your pretty boy."

"Aw..." You teased, "Sweet little thing. You like being my pillow princess don't you?"

He hums a yes without processing the words, but quickly pulls back to look at you, frowning, "Hey!"

You broke into laughter as he pinched at your sides again, making you giggle and squirm.

You stayed in bed with him all day, only getting up to throw on some clothes frantically and open the door for the pizza delivery guy. You watched scary movies and laughed until you snorted and ate way too much.

And just like that, something in you started to heal. Something that had been painful and jagged.

It would take time to fix it completely. There would still be tears and nightmares, but you knew that soon enough it'd knit itself back together, leaving you with those same pink and silver lightning bolts over your heart that Eddie had.

Proof that both of you had lived through that terrible night. And you'd both healed.

***********

@eddielives1986

[tangledinink]

heyy!! srry to bother u again but ive started my drabble (which is actually gonna probably end up being like 3-4k augh) and i just have a question

ik mikey has ADHD and is medicated for it, but are any of the others? i would love to project my adderall woes onto as many of the turtles as possible LMAO

this particular oneshot is leo-centric insomnia stuff he learns how to play chess and it's a whole Thing

anyway thanks!! and i LOVED that comic abt them at the fancy restaurant ohmygof it made me wail

Eeee yay!!!! I’m so excited to read it when you’re done!!! :D I do think Leo probably has ADHD, but it’s not as ‘severe’ (or at least doesn’t present as classically) as with Mikey. He and Raph are currently not diagnosed with anything, but lowkey Leo probably has ADHD (at least lol) but has kind of “gotten away with it” so to speak, at least this far. Raph most definitely has an undiagnosed anxiety disorder, and their Dad (and brothers…) have been side-eyeing them both for a while now.

Yoshi has been trying to get Leo and Raph into therapy for a while now but they’ve both always been kind of resistant to it. For Leo it’s mostly because he associates the concept of therapy with Mikey and Donnie and their struggles, so he looks at them and looks at himself and is like “??? What no. I’m not the same as them so why would I need therapy or anything???” and also plays the comparison game (“yeah sure I have a hard time with X but it’s not as bad as Mikey’s time blindness or Donnie’s sensory issues so this is fine and normal, actually.”) Raph, similarly, tends to use Donnie as a “benchmark” so to speak and thus is like “well my panic attacks aren’t anywhere near as bad as his, so I’m fine,” bless his heart.

Mikey doesn’t have anything going on besides ADHD (though he does also struggle with eating a little at times coz,,, adderall), but he’s just SO ADHD. Level 100 ADHD. Donnie, my sweet baby boy, kind of has a gaggle of neurotypes and issues (autistic, anxiety, disordered eating, some OCD traits, handful of other uncategorized things…) and his family has always been very supportive of him, but the downside is that Raph and Leo are now internally kind of like. What? No. I don’t have issues. [gestures to Donnie] HE has issues!

For some reason I like the idea that Leo occasionally bums adderall off of Mikey when he’s having a particularly hard time with schoolwork or a project and is always like “lol it’s a study drug makes brain go brrrrr” and Mikey is like :||||| mmmhmmmm… yah…. that’s what this is…..

But!!! This is all very up to interpretation? I think? If you wanna diagnose Leo with ADHD and put him on Addy, then please, by all means, go right ahead! Also!!! THANK YOU!!! :3c

[amethystdreamer114]

Spoiler Alert 🚨

If you’re on OUAT season 5 you’re safe. If not, I mean I’d still read it but you’re gonna get spoilers🤣 (it’s worth it though 🤫) Also please forgive me if the storyline isn’t exactly how it was in the show… this is sorta just off the top of my head so there could be some things I’ve forgotten🤣

Okay so I just have this thing- you know that scene in OUAT where Gold has a heart attack and then ends up in the hospital with (spoiler alert ‼️) Zelena? And you know how she sent him into a second heart attack and he ended up intubated?

Alright well here’s my thing.

The series went through that WAYYYYY too fast for my taste so let’s engage in a little “Rumple-Whumple” shall we?

First let’s think about the parts we *didn’t* see during that episode (Heart of Gold 4/17).

Rumple is in New York after being forced out of Storybrooke by Belle. When we catch up with him, he’s opening the door to his son’s old apartment and he happens to find Robin and his “family” there. With how quickly he has the heart attack and how little it takes to push him to it, we can only assume that he’s been having “build up” symptoms all day.

So what would that look like?

My idea is that he might’ve been up at 3 a.m. the night before with what he deemed “heartburn,” not recognizing the whole bit about his dark deeds poisoning his heart (or in this world, heart attack symptoms.)

Maybe because of that chest tightness and pressure, he didn’t get much sleep and that took away the time he desperately needed to rest.

So by the time the morning comes, he’s still having pains on and off and he feels exhausted. Perhaps he skips out on breakfast because he just doesn’t feel up to even making something simple.

He goes on about his day, walking the streets of New York… loud traffic, too many people, and of course his leg hurting from being without magic to stop it.

Of course he’s got Belle’s voice in his mind- he replays the moment she sent him away over and over and over until he realizes his chest is really starting to hurt.

He makes his way to Bae’s apartment, hoping he can just rest there for a bit before getting back to finding his way back to Storybrooke.

That’s when he finds Robin and the others.

The longer he stands there arguing with Robin, the more he feels lightheaded, the more the room spins, the more his anxiety spikes and the pain in his chest runs rampant…

Then, he blacks out.

Moving on to the hospital…

When Rumple wakes up, his head hurts from the fall, and his body is sore all over from the heart attack.

Now, he feels even more exhausted and pained, but *vulnerable.*

No one who he can trust is here. He’s lying in a cold hospital room in an uncomfortable bed with stiff blankets and an IV in his arm. He misses Belle now more than ever because he knows if she were there, she’d be by his side, tending to him and making sure he felt cared for and loved.

Alas, he’s here with the Honorable Thief himself, and so he acts big and bad when asking for the magic he needs to get back home.

While he waits for Robin to get back, he’s alone with his thoughts. He imagines being back home with Belle. He can practically smell her homemade bread he loves so much. He can feel the soft, slightly worn blankets around him. He hears her sweet voice saying she’ll be there in just a minute.

When Robin finally returns, he drinks the potion, thinking he’ll be healed immediately. This is where it gets interesting….

He realizes nothings changed. He’s still in pain, he’s still tired, he still feels like he’s made of lead and moving is impossible.

Soon enough he’s discovered that Zelena is right in front of him.

He knows she wants to kill him, or worse, use him for something. The more she talks, the more pressure he feels settling in his chest. His heart rate skyrockets and he feels like he can’t breathe… then, those words…

“You failed…oops.”

He can’t take it. The pain, the anxiety, the everything… his heart gives in a second time, leaving the monitor going wild as his vision fades.

He wakes up stiff, cold and pained once again. He feels the softness of a cool towel on his head and leans into it slightly before realizing it’s not Belle who is tending to him.

Despite how sore he is, he does everything in his power to scoot away from Zelena, but being intubated and weak makes it much harder.

He doesn’t like the feeling of being intubated at all, but there’s nothing he can do. He’s at the mercy of the medical staff and Zelena.

His throat feels sore and scratchy, and he wants nothing more than to be curled up in Belle’s arms, drinking a warm cup of tea.

Sadly, that doesn’t happen. He gets another threat from Zelena- putting him in the position of choosing good or choosing to live without constant pain…

He couldn’t help it. He blinked.

[faiiryteethh]

ive been living with sensory issues my whole life, i freak out when someone makes small changes to my routine, like i hate doing spontaneous things, most of the time i hate physical affection, & i have such a hard time socializing & making friends. i have bipolar disorder and other disorders like anxiety, etc. but my treatment for those things doesn't help with these other issues i have. i hate being like this and i want to work toward change but i don't know what to do to work toward it. 😞

like i said i have trouble making friends and i always have since i was a kid. i've always felt like an alien compared to other ppl. and that's fine because i prefer being alone. but i hate that i can't act normal in social situations and ppl always think im rude or weird when im not trying to be 😢 and it sucks because i kinda have to be in social settings sometimes because i have children. and i dread it for these reasons every time. nobody is interested in the same things as me. and when i talk about my interests ppl tell me im too obsessed with something or tell me its weird altogether. which hurts. and when i am able to make "friends" i always get taken advantage of because i can never tell when someone is taking advantage of me and my kindness or if they have malicious intentions with me. and i feel stupid every time because my bf will tell me they are "obviously playing you" or my mom will say stuff like "can't you tell that they aren't interested?" or the one i always get is "why can't you see that this guy is flirting with you/trying to sleep with you."

idk if im just having a panic attack or a mental breakdown or what. but this has been building up inside of me for years. i feel so stupid and weird. i have to carry lotion around with me because if my hands don't have moisture on them at all times i literally sit there with chills going up my spine and i can't touch anything. certain clothes make me want to rip my skin off. and my family gets annoyed every time i have to run back in the house because i forgot to grab it. which just adds to the guilt i feel for being this way and i can't control these issues no matter how hard i try.

i've literally made so many lists and "rules" for myself on how to act around ppl and i try so hard to follow them just to get through whatever event is going on.

i think thats why i throw myself into my interests and use them to escape reality so much. once i find something i like i become obsessed with it forever and i talk about it so much to the point where my bf tells me its too much. certain characters and shows are the only thing that brings me comfort sometimes. i have so many unnecessary lists and categories for my interests. i know its very time consuming and pointless but just having them makes me feel better. like pinterest for example is my best friend lol. making these lists and stuff just soothes me in a way. as stupid as that sounds. but even tho it comforts me it still makes me feel stupid because ive never met anyone else who does that.

i've never ever spoken about this stuff online/publicly before. mainly because of embarrassment and fear of being bullied for it since ive already been relentlessly harassed for a million other things. i just have so much anxiety all the time. and doing pointless things helps with it but i want to stop feeling this way. or at least have answers as to why i am this way so maybe i can fix it. im tired of feeling awkward or different from other ppl. i want to be normal and pleasant to be around. i want to get along with the other parents at school functions instead of being scared to talk to ppl. i can't even make eye contact with anyone i talk to. ive tried since i was LITERALLY a child and no matter what i always get scared or nervous and look away. and its really noticeable to other ppl because they've mentioned it to me.

i'm posting this to vent but also maybe someone reading this has gone through the same thing or can help me. because i feel so hopeless and im scared im going to be this way forever. ive only been able to find info on the sensory thing and ive found that there is no way to get rid of it. ive tried everything and ive given up on that. but i know i can change my actions and how i interact with ppl if i can just figure out WHY i am like this.

pls don't laugh at me or say anything mean if you choose to comment on this post. i already have so much anxiety and fear about posting it. i don't want sympathy or anything like that. i just need help 😞🥺😢

i have an appointment booked for seeing a psychiatrist but that isn't until november i haven't seen one since i was a little kid. so i'm hoping to maybe get some answers in the meantime.

i already can't work and im getting disability soon because my bipolar is so crippling. it affects my ability to function so much. and i have these other problems on top of it. the fact that i can't even make a living like "normal" ppl makes me feel bad about myself already. and since i can't get a job or a career i want i just want to feel normal in my everyday life and around ppl AT THE VERY LEAST.

[straawberries]

I AM GOING TO BE KICKED OUT IN 6 MONTHS AND I AM NOT MAKING MONEY FAST ENOUGH TO BE ABLE TO AVOID HOMELESSNESS

hey girls its me again. ill.. try to keep this brief? as brief as i can atleast.

if you havent seen my previous posts, hi, my name is delilah, im an autistic transgirl system with ptsd thats living in an abusive household where im barely fed and am constantly miserable, and to top it all off, the second my birthday hits on JUNE 1 2024, i am going to be kicked out. i want to make around $2000 dollars before then, but i only have about $350 right now. at my current rate, i wont be able to reach my goal, and i dont know how im going to get housing if i dont. to repeat in big text so people pay attention:

if i do not get about $1700 more in donations before june 1 2024, i am going to be homeless.

im trying.. really hard to not give up but its looking bleak. because i live in a small town in texas where everyone knows that im an autistic trans loser, ive been unable to get a job, and ive been forced to do this. i dont enjoy being forced to rely on other people's kindness, but its the best and atp really the only option i have.

C*SH*PP - @delilahswagga

P*YP*L - @delilahkill

i make pixel art too! dm me if youre interested, i do most things including furries/anthros, humans, chibi/dolls, backgrounds and scenes, and small animations

a lot of scams claiming things like this have been going around, so ill talk about myself some. click the readmore if you want to read that.

i have a really big love for performing, i fell in love with theatre years ago and performed the addams family musical as fester about a month ago as my biggest role on stage yet, and right now im in the process of getting ready for antigone as teiresius. i love music, and its one of my life goals to learn as many instruments as possible, and currently i own quite a few, though my favorites are my two ukuleles and my super cool electric guitar. i have 8 partners at the moment, and i have a very big desire to one day live with as many of them as i can. i pride myself on being the best partner i can be, and its been my goal to make all my partner's lives better (and i think ive been doing a good job at it :3)

i love cats an extreme amount, ive never had a cat myself (because my dad is insane and hates cats and tries to hit cats with his truck) but being around cats makes me super happy and always makes my anxieties go away, even when im having an anxiety attack or a panic attack. i really hope i can get a few cats one day, and i want to give them all silly food names :) my fursona is kind of a reflection of that, her name is bagel. some cat names ive thought of are mochi, chili, Supreme Pizza, or maybe french fry :)

im not sure if ill be able to achieve any of my goals if i dont get the financial support i need. ive been.. really close to giving up recently, but i dont want to have to do that, so im going to fight like this for as long as i can.

[iamthat-iam]

hey Bry, i hope you’re doing good, i wanted to ask for help because im tired of this, like i dont know who else to ask ( 😔 ) could you please tell me what i'm doing wrong?  (long text ahead)

i’ve been into Non Dualism for a while, not that much tho, i was into the Law of Assumption community and i was having that point of view and the i discovered ND. I felt like i was being blessed because the main idea of Non Dualism is so freeing. I consumed all types of ND contents you can imagine, i was in every corney of the internet looking for info and different perspectives, and i was doing…. meh. I was learning but i had my up and downs but i was slowly “detaching from ego”. Then something happened i had a few problems with a class of mine and i felt like a fell from the progress that i had. I was trying to read more and more content to try to make me understand that “hey its ok”, ofc that never worked because my teacher accused me of plagiarism and the owrse part is that is true but is not bcs of bad reasons i just used AI  and wanted to make my assignments easier and my mental health was awful for me to complete them. Then i found out that my grades were low and i dont know if im going to fail, or repeat my semester, and the worse, i dont want mynparents to find out and pay for those classes. I feel awful because they’re really expensive and i just want to solve this. Believe me, im so tired of reading content and not knowing what to do. I’ve tried every “tecnique” to slowly detach from ego, but i just can’t stop thinking about these problems, they’re haunting me like crazy. I know this is just ego but, ive had so many anxiety attacks because of this like i don’t get it. I'm sorry if im sounding too demanding, im literally asking in the best way possible, what else could i do?

A lot of bloggers say “you don´t need to understand this, is your ego worrying” and others say “slowly question yourself what ego says or sees and go back to your origin” that gets me so confused and i'm exhausted. im so lost and i just want to delete everything and feel better. i know ND, is not about this, it shouldn’t make me feel like this, is just very simple. i just have too many problems like Bry i am really concerned, my mothers finances haven’t been the best and i don’t want her to pay a lor of money. I'm terrified to let go of this desire to change my grade circumstances, because I'm scared that if I do, nothing will change and everything around me will only worsen, and it feels like I've got such little time to change things. I know it might b the best to “let go” and do nothing but like, what if it stays the same. I dont even understand when people say “let it be” or i saw a girl saying “if you have a problem, dont do thing to it. ignore it and it will solve” like how??? i feel defeated and i just want to be free. im so scared to be in this position when the week ends, or by the month ends. im so lost. i feel like i only know this intellectual, but when the day passes and i say to myself “I AM” i just can’t feel it, i feel like a limited body. i give up on trying to achieve something,Ego seems so exhausting and scary and terrifying. i want to leave everything behind and be gentle with myself. what can i do? what should i do?

thank you bry if you read this fully, i really try to follow your blog and i like your kindness towards ppl. i hope u have a nice day

Im doing good ty for asking!

You have to take a leap of faith. I know it's scary to let go of control and trying to change things but if you don't, you will continue to feel like this and the problems will continue to exist. Trying to change a problem is you acknowledging that there's even a problem in the first place. Worrying about these problems are just keeping them there, because you keep acknowledging that they exist.

Your true self doesn't have problems! So when you know yourself as you really are, and are not identified with the person dealing with such and such issues, they have to go away. There's no possibility of things staying the same because everything appears and disappears based on what you are aware of.

Surrender. Just know that everything will work out in the end (because everything is already perfect).

[sophieinwonderland]

hi o/ jus wana start by saying dis is jus semi incoherent rambling of a sleeby oupy who didnt get to eat 5 borgars for dinner.

i find the anti endo point of “just doing it for attention” so weird

for one its really disconected from real life, like, attention is a basic need fir our body, its why solutary confinment is such good tourture. its like saying “theyre just doing it to get food” :l dumb argument, evyone needs and withholding food because someones starving is an evil thing to do, an so is ignoring someone who’s in need of social interaction.

and two, its blatantly wrong. like, we’ve told 0 people irl about being a system, we’ve only told like, 3 online friends, and we never talk about system stuff with them still cuz we’re scared of loosing those friends for being too weird. we pretty much never post about it on our blog an besides the blog description no one wud probably ever know. the one time someone guessed we’re a system in a discord servr i had a full anxiety attack an avoided any interaction for 2 weeks even tho they were accepting, an then when we finaly went back to talking there i made sure we had any trace of system stuff wiped from the servr profile an deleted the messages that made them ask and only just showed that all again after 2 months of keeping everything hidden. we’re terrified of people we know knowing we’re a system or getting attention cuz of tgat.

tho we’re definitly on the extreme end for that (mostly me tbh… the social isolation and abandonment issues exo-memories and the body’s trauma from similar irl stuff deff made me super scared about this) but its a pretty similar experience for a lot of systems from wut ive seen where telling ppl is pretty much an act of compleat trust an usualy very anxiety inducing.

besides, if someone really wus just after attention, they could just post a incorrect fact online or a really dumb take. thats much easier an will get a lot more attention than faking being a system ever could. like, saying something like “reading is bourgeoisie” on a semi popular post will be a thousand times better at getting u attention than being a system ever could.

theres so much more i wana say about this, like the ableism inherent to that argument point, or the way its linked to child abuse, but phone keyboard is stupid and terrible and im too hungy to think well enough to write out those points properly an do them justice.

anyways, i hope u have a great day/night depending on when u read this.

Right! And if they're claiming people are wanting positive attention, I don't see that as being that hard either.

Like, if someone wants to talk to people on the internet about stuff, there are spaces out there for literally anything and anyone. You're not going to get more attention for being a system than you would for being outspoken in a fandom or a religion or any other social group you're a part of.

People who want attention... don't need to pretend to have people in their head to get it. And the attention you would get for that is often going to be negative because a lot of people are sanist and pluralphobic. But as you mention, it's not even the best way to get negative attention when there are so many actual troll-y things you can do.

You can find hundreds of communities online with people who will support you and give you attention for your takes on various topics! Or you can find hundreds more who will hate you if you push the right buttons!

There's just... no logical reason to fake being plural for attention.

And isn't this, again, the very same claims that have always been made against the LGBTQ community?

It's actually kind of funny how that happens, isn't it?

The people who are getting attention are generally the ones who most conform to society. It's not plural or trans people. It's the ones who do their best to fit in and be like everyone else in their group. Meanwhile, people who have identities that diverge from the norm are often left outcasts and shunned by peers.

And yet it's the latter group that's accused of attention seeking?

It makes no sense. 🤷‍♀️

[chibinightowl]

Waiting is the worst part. Logically, Tim knows his husband is in the best possible place for the care he needs. But he's also behind doors that not even the name Wayne will open, waiting alone in a place that has caused him so much trauma in the past.

Well, perhaps not this particular hospital, but other medical centers and other medical professionals have all contributed to Jason's PTSD.

Tim can't even sit with him, hold his hand, and field questions so his husband doesn't have to. He can't tell the staff to speak up, that Jason is half deaf on one side and has damage on the other thanks to an accident years before. He can't give him a hug when he goes back for his scans and offer a smile when he returns.

What's worse, what's tearing Tim's guts up inside, is the guilt that he didn't listen when Jason first mentioned he wasn't well. Admittedly, they both thought the nausea was a side effect of the panic attack Jason suffered two days before. He'd spent the morning vomiting before a doctor appointment he couldn't put off any more. They chalked it up to anxiety and that it would pass once the visit was over.

The appointment might be over but the nausea remains. Chills and cold sweats have entered into the mix and Jason has spent the last couple of nights tossing restlessly in the living room where the floor is paneled rather than carpeted. It's not unusual for him to lie there--he runs warm to begin with and has said he enjoys a nap where the flooring is cool on his skin.

This morning when Tim woke up, Jason was still there, whimpering and restless. His eyes cracked open when Tim sat down in the armchair with his coffee. "Babe, I don't feel good," he'd said.

"I know," Tim had soothed. "When did you last take your nausea meds?"

They both know what a vicious cycle Jason's brain can get stuck in, how his body reacts to stressors and how in turn he'll fixate when there's nothing actually wrong. Many a virtual doctor visit has been had for exactly that.

But today, tears welled up in Jason's eyes when Tim brushed him aside. "I took them already," he'd said. "Nothing is working. I can't eat. I can't drink. I'm cold and hot and I fucking hurt. I know this shit is all probably in my head but I want to see a doctor and have them tell me that to my face."

Tim remembers all too well how he'd felt like he was humoring his husband when he snagged his tablet to look for the closest urgent care clinic. It's at the clinic where the PA prods Jason's abdomen and he curls up tight against the pressure.

"I think you might have appendicitis," she'd said and sent them on their merry way to the ER.

The whole drive, Tim felt like a damned tool. He's had appendicitis himself, he knows the symptoms, and has even gone through the surgery. How did he miss this?

At a stop light, Jason had placed a clammy hand over Tim's. "Don't beat yourself up over it, babe."

"I should have known..."

"You should have known shit--your symptoms were different."

This is true but is beside the point. "I'll stay with you," he says in a rush. "For as long as I can."

It ends up not being for very long. So here Tim sits in the cafeteria, nursing a cup of coffee and fucking around on his phone. Jason's maybe 500 feet away in a triage staging area, but it feels like miles. He has an IV for fluids and has been given medication for pain and the nausea. He's NPO in case he'll need surgery.

All of these things Tim knows from his own experience earlier in the year. He'd done it all by himself because Jason's PTSD wouldn't allow him to even set foot in the ER. He'd tried, oh had he tried, but Tim told him it would be okay, that he'd keep in touch by text and to keep his phone on him.

Jason might be able to walk in here now but he shouldn't be alone. But the ER is crowded and there are no extra seats in triage for guests. Jason had squeezed Tim's hand when the nurse told him he needed to wait elsewhere.

"Keep your phone on you, babe."

"I won't put it down."

And so he waits, gnawing on his guilt and feeling like the worst person ever.

[feleon]

Hands On p. 1/2

Hands On: Nurse!Leon x Patient!Reader

Nurse!Leon Headcanons

PART 2

The sun had already said its goodbyes for the days hours ago, and you were cleaning up after dinner when a sharp, aching pain hit you in your torso.  You kneeled to the floor as you couldn't muster the ability to stand.  

  You glance at the clock.  How late was it, why is this bullshit happening now?

  8pm.  The clinics were all closed right now.  You tried to let it pass, gritting your teeth through it for an hour but to no avail.  Your muscles felt like they were 

  Your only option was the hospital.  There was no one to drive you, so you grab your keys and booked it grandma speed to the local emergency room, hobbling up to the secretary at the desk when you arrived.

  "My chest is killing me, it's been twisting me from the inside for an hour!"

  She nonchalantly looked up from her desk, tapping the sign in sheet and motioning for you to take a seat in the lobby.  She was completely blase about the world around her, you wondered how she treated a severe emergency situation, if she carried herself with the same cadence she did now.

  You took a seat in the hard, uncomfortable chair and turned to the news.  You wondered to yourself why they had the news running, as if people waiting in the ER needed more bad news and energy in their life.  You tilted your head back against the cool window behind you as your name was called.

  "Right this way!"

  You were guided to a small room, and as soon as you entered your escort had left.  On the bed was a pair of scrubs and a urine cup with no further instruction.  Since you weren't a juvenile, you took it upon yourself to just finish the process, changing in the bathroom and providing a sample, clean catch be darned.

  The woman who escorted you later came to retrieve the sample, completely oblivious to the fact she hadn't given you any instruction and you basically had to carry her.

  "Your nurse will be in shortly to do your admission."

  Aaaaand she was our just as soon as she came in.

  You waited on the cot, reading the signs hanging up on the wall that pharmaceutical companies definitely paid for, once again laying your head back as you waited, unable to sleep from the ever-present aching.

  As you tried to drift off, your sleep waas interrupted by footseps and a scratch of writing on the bedside board.

  "Good evening, my name is Leon and I'm going to be your nurse this evening.  Let's get started by getting those vital signs.  Then I'm going to draw your blood, set up an IV, and we will do an EKG.  Just routine testing for chest pain.  You know, chest pain generally indicates a heart attack, but many people confuse what chest pain really is."

  You felt like you were going to have a heart attack, your nurse was fine as fuck.

  A suave, bulky blonde man with fitted scrubs was attaching a cuff to your arm, and an oximeter to your finger.

  "I like to get my readings manually,  more accurate that way." 

  You were glad he was focused on the meter, because if he looked you in the eye you knew you couldn't hold that gaze.  Once he finished listening to your blood pressure, he palpated your pulse, his touch was gentle.

  "Your readings are within normal range, let me listen to your heart."

  He slowly pulled down your gown.

  Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.  You began to panic.  The cool bell of the stethoscope was warmed by your hot skin, as your temperature rose with your anxiety.

  "Oh, your pulse is racing now.  Your heart sounds normal, I don't hear any extra sounds or rubs.  I just see some slight palpitations.  I understand you're nervous, but I'm here with you."  He coaxed you with his sweet tone, grabbing your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over yours.

  "I'm going to draw some labs and hook you up to some fluids, if you are nervous it may help you to look the other way while I insert the needles."

  He was coaching you through the process, extending your arm and palpating for a vein.  His soft, blonde bangs obscuring his eyes as he scanned your forearm for a good spot.

  "You're antecubital looks good, I'm going to go there."

  His smile was melting you inside.

  He applied the tourniquet and with a quick pinch your blood began to flow through the tubes.  The vials filled quickly and the needle was quickly released from your arm.  However, you winced as you felt a second pinch as he anchored your IV.  It didn't take him long to secure it, as he tapped your arm to let you know he was done.

  "Good girl.  Now let's get that EKG done."

  Good girl?  

  He must think you're febrile with how red your face was turning.

  He lifted more of your gown, exposing your chest.

  "Alright sweetheart, this isn't going to hurt you when they com eoff either, I'm just placing some stickers so we can attach the leads.  This allows us to get a good look at different angles of your heart and see your rhythm.

  Sweetheart?

  His technical skills made the whole process painless, but his presence definitely left you too nervous to speak.  As he was performing the EKG he asked you the general assessment questions.  Allergies, medical history, family history, medications, etc.  He also seemed interested in your life, not just to help you relax but out of a genuine care for his patients.  You discussed recent events and hobbies in your life with him, as he opened up to you.  He was finished with his assessment before you knew it.

 "I'm going to go send your samples to the lab, and show your EKG to the doctor.  He will be in to discuss your results with you.  Is there anything you need before I leave?"  

 While you didn't need anything from him, it was nice of him to ask.  It felt like everyone else was in a rush here, but he took his time with you.  

 You shake your head.

  "If anything changes, don't hesitate to hit the call bell and I'll be right there-"

  You were interrupted by a loud beeping, and the technician from before shouted as she walked by,

  "Leon, your patient just started coding, we are setting up IV access and waiting on the doctor.  He was fine one minute, now he's unresponsive, come quick!"

Leon nodded in your direction as he turned and left the room.  He may have taken hi time with you, but the ER can turn on a dime.

  You laid your head back and decided to doze off, the pain getting better, the constant alarms around you singing you to sleep as you got used to their tune.

  You weren't sure how long it was before a knock woke you up and a lab coat entered.

  "I'm here to go over your results with you.  Everything seems normal.  CBC within normal limits, your troponins are not elevated.  Your EKG displays normal sinus rhythm.  I think you just had a muscle spasm.  Your electrolytes are normal so I know it isn't that.  It doesn't seem to be anything to worry about.  You're not in any pain, are you?"

  You shake your head again.

  "Good.  I'm just goign to order you some cyclobenzaprine to take as needed for your spasms for the time being.  Leon will be back in to go over your discharge and you can go home."

  As Mr. Labcoat turned and left, Leon entered with some paperwork.  He meticulously went over the discharge paperwork with you and explained how you can manage your pain and spasms for the time being.  He cracked some jokes with you before you got up to change into your clothes and head out.

  "In the nicest way possible, I don't want to see you back here.  I wouldn't mind seeing you on the outside.  Take care, sweetheart.  Have a good evening."  And with that you both left the room.