#no doubt the people kidnapped are suffering. i don't doubt that

[jewishcissiekj]

Throwing up whenever any of my teachers say anything about Israel

[blujayonthewing]

I'm really glad elyss came several years before melliwyk, because mel's alignment shift from chaotic neutral to chaotic good sometimes feels a little embarrassing in an 'I can't keep my own feelings to myself for the sake of committing to the bit' sort of way, but the counterpoint to that is that elyss, steadfastly true neutral, just simply Does Not Care about anyone other than her own loved ones or anything outside her own immediate interest no matter how much I sometimes wish she would

[plagasitize]

[kasagia]

Right Hand IV

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: This is the first time you plan to do something completely behind Feyd's back. You must tread carefully with him to ensure that your plan is not exposed until it is fully implemented. However, you begin to have doubts about the role you want to play in Na-Baron Harkonnen's life… and you don't like it at all. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~ PART V ~•♤♤♤•~

You return from the harpies as the sun begins to rise over Arrakis. It took you a little longer than you thought to come to terms with them, but to your surprise, they turned out to be very cooperative.

The first stage of your plan has begun. The easiest one. Now you have to deal with the next part of it.

You reach your bedroom and close the door quietly. You lean against it and sigh, allowing yourself to rest for a moment. Thoughts race through your head as you reconsider your plan.

Killing the baron and making it look like a Fremen kidnapping and execution would be child's play. It will be much worse to convince the emperor to protect his bloodline in the face of sudden tragic events. And what's a better solution to that than marrying his daughter to the new, young Baron of Giedi Prime?

Feyd would be, by this marriage, a sure successor to the emperor. He would also probably leave you alone and take care of his new wife. If you were lucky, he would make you governor of Arrakis.

A sharp knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. You almost fall over, being able to take only a few steps forward before the door almost flies off its hinges under the force of whoever opens it.

You take a deep breath, ready to scream at anyone who dared to invade your private space like that, but you freeze when you see Feyd-Rautha at your doorstep. Very pissed off, Feyd-Rautha. 

"Where the hell were you?" He asks in a cool, controlled tone of voice. It is surprising considering he has the blood of probably hundreds of people on himself.

"Well, I guess I should be the one asking you about it. It's not every day that you're dripping with so much blood. What happened? Instead of entering the disinfection chamber, you fell into the prison drainage system?" You scoff at him and turn your back to him, taking off your black robe.

You gasp as he reaches your side in a few quick steps and turns you to face him, his hand tightening around your throat as he is looking at your eyes. Surprisingly, his hand doesn't cut off your air; he just keeps it wrapped around your throat, pressing his fingers against your pulse point. You wonder if this is a warning for you or if he's checking to see if you are real.

"Where. Have. You. Been?" He speaks hoarsely, not raising his voice at you but demanding an answer to his question, completely ignoring your mockery of him.

"With your harpies. Someone had to feed them. Ask them if you don't believe me." You answer confidently. If he's surprised or thinks you're lying, he doesn't show it. His eyes move from your face to your torso, more specifically to the place where you were bleeding profusely a few hours ago.

You shiver as he slides his hand down your throat, through the valley between your breasts, and down your stomach. He gently lifts the fabric of your nightgown and reveals the bandage on your side. He stares at it for a while in complete silence.

Suddenly, he takes a step towards you, pressing his body against yours. You feel the blood from his armour slowly seep into the fabric of your nightgown, but that's not what makes you suddenly hold your breath.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, Na-Baron, an heir to Giedi Prime and Arrakis, a psychopath, probably a future emperor, a man hungry for pain, suffering, and blood, rests his forehead against yours and holds you tightly to him, cuddling you. You are afraid to take even the smallest breath. You just stare stupidly at the man in front of you. His eyes close as he inhales your scent and basks in your warmth.

"What happened with you? You weren't with me when I woke up.” You whisper, keeping your gaze on him, examining every last inch of his face as you try to read the reason for his strange, soft behaviour.

"Did you want me to be there?" He asks in a whisper, still not opening his eyes. His closeness overwhelms you. His tender treatment makes you feel more vulnerable than when he held a dagger against your neck.

But what terrifies you more than that is that you really wanted to see him waiting by your bed for you to wake up—just like in those hopeless romances hidden in Giedi Prime's library. But you knew too well that your life would never be like one of these love stories. More like textbooks about the history of their family—a very bloody story full of intrigue.

"I didn't care one bit. What worries me is that you clearly had fun without me. Whose blood are you staining my clothes with?" He sighs at your question. He reluctantly pulls away from you and looks at you carefully. He places his hand on your bare shoulder and plays with your hair, twisting it around his finger.

"Fremen's. As soon as the medic assured me that you were in stable condition, I joined the units that started chasing them. We caught three sandworms and people on them." He reports to you dispassionately, with no emotion in his eyes. For a moment, you think he might be exhausted from the events of the day, but ever since you became his right hand, you never remember him showing any signs of tiredness.

"I see." You say, swallowing. Lately, his proximity has been giving you a strange feeling. It's been like this ever since he ordered you to kneel in front of him. You feel a faint blush rising to your cheeks as you remember that day. He hasn't touched you since then. Something you weren't extremely happy about.

"The Reverend Mother asked about you. The one from the Corrino." He says this and moves away from you. He slowly starts to remove his bloody armor. You look away from him as he removes his breastplate, revealing his muscular, pale chest.

His partial nudity almost makes you ignore what he said. And it annoys you that suddenly staring at his fit, well-built body seems more interesting to you than listening to the important message he's telling you. After all, that was what you were afraid of—that the Bene Gesserit would start looking at you more closely.

"What exactly did she want?" You ask, directing your gaze to your black nightrobe. As you suspected, the blood from his clothes soaked yours. You wrinkle your nose, realising you'll have to change.

"Take you away from me. I clearly explained to her that this was not an option and never would be. You're mine. They gave you to me themselves." You hold your breath as he's a few inches away from you again. Only a black loincloth around his hips covered his... intimate parts. He reaches for your cheek, tracing your cheekbones with his thumb. He pulls you towards him, pressing his body against yours again.

"Technically you took me yourself. And I never gave in to you." You remind him, watching him closely as he wraps his other arm around your waist, making sure you don't run away from him. Your heart beats faster as his fingers slip under your nightgown and trace the edges of the bandage wrapped around your waist.

"Irrelevant details." He growls, tangling his hand in your hair. He pulls you closer to him, making you rest your chin on his shoulder as he buries his face in your hair. "What happened? After you used the voice. Why were you bleeding..."

"That's irrelevant. It worked. Atreides got scared, and we bought ourselves more time before his next attempt... to make a move against us." You interrupt him before he asks a question.

The story of this particular wound and your... incredible skills was something you promised not to reveal to anyone. It was the darkest memory of your past, one that haunted you more than your memories of Arrakis. It was selfish of you to forget about the poor people you had to kill to survive, but you had worked with Harkonnens for too long to be even ashamed of it. Everyone had to look after themselves. Only monsters equal to them survived among them. Apparently, you were one of them.

He interrupts your thoughts, moving away from you. His eyes burn with a vivid, burning anger that sends shivers down your spine. You lift your chin, enduring the stern look that he wanted to intimidate you with. He scowls even more when he sees that you don't take much notice of his silent admonishment.

"You almost died."

"You're exaggerating this. I thought you of all people won't be afraid of the sight of a little blood." You respond dismissively, which only makes his mood worse. In a few steps, he walks over to you and pins you against the wall behind you. His chest rubs against yours with each deep breath. But you are calm. Unlike you, he doesn't have daggers attached to his body... unless he has them under his loincloth...

"I simply don't enjoy holding your almost lifeless body in my arms. I much prefer it when your heart beats strongly against your chest... like now." He whispers hoarsely, his nose brushing against your cheekbone. His lips are dangerously close to yours; if he leaned a little closer to you, he could brush the corner of your lips with his. You sigh shakily, closing your eyes as you are trying your best to deny this strange, sick desire for him that suddenly rose in you.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all?"

Your question was met with silence and no response from him. And just when you think he's actually going to pull away from you, he grabs your hair, pulling your head back and exposing your throat to himself. You sigh as his full lips descend on your neck. He sucks on your skin, licking it before his black teeth sink into you. You gasp, reflexively placing your hand on the back of his head. You know you can't pull him away; all you can do is place your hand on the back of his neck and dig your nails into his skin as he leaves his marks on your soft neck.

You gasp when he suddenly grabs your hips and lifts you up. His hardness rubs against your clothed core as he grinds his hips into yours. You bite your lip, holding back a small moan as you feel him so close. He breathes shakily against your neck, staying there for a moment. Never in your life have you seen Feyd-Rautha Harkonne refrain from taking what he wants. That's why you're shocked when he suddenly lets go of you and walks away, turning his back on you.

"It was a very long day and I believe there is an even longer one ahead of us. So shut up, lie nicely on the bed and wait for me. I'll come over in a moment and you better fucking be there because this time I'm gonna tear down this planet looking for you, are we clear?" He asks, turning around to look at you. You nod, swallowing thickly, with your cheeks still a little blushed and your heart beating madly fast. "Good girl." He mutters and walks into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a loud bang.

You stare at the closed door for a good while. Only when the sound of water reaches your ears do you manage to snap out of this strange state.

You place a hand on your neck, tracing with your fingertips the spot his greedy lips marked. You shudder as you hear his soft grunts from the bathroom, knowing full well what... impressive problem he's dealing with there. You blush and run to change before he comes out of the bathroom.

Your head lay on the pillow just as the bathroom door opened. You try not to stare at him as he towels off. He throws the towel on the chair next to the desk and turns off the lights in the room. You sigh shakily, listening to his quiet footsteps around the room. He locks the door with a loud click. A cold chill runs through you, and your heart beats faster as you hear him approaching the bed.

You stiffen as you feel him sit down on the bed next to you. You hear him hide something under the pillow, probably one of his daggers, before laying down next to you.

His arm slips under the covers and wraps around you, pulling you closer to his chest as he takes on the role of a big spoon. You're pressed against his naked body; only a piece of the duvet and the fabric of your nightgown separate you two. You feel your heart speed up rapidly as you feel his toned chest muscles against your back.

"Is something wrong, little witch?" He asks mockingly, as if he didn't realise how uncomfortable you felt when he fell asleep and cuddled up to you while being fully naked. Only this time you felt a completely different kind of discomfort...

"You'll be cold, Na-Baron." You say, trying to convince him to get dressed. However, Na-Baron has completely different plans. If possible, he moves even closer to you, his length brushing against your ass as he leans close to your ear.

"You can always warm me up." You snort at his suggestion and say nothing more. His lips brush against your earlobe as he presses a feathery kiss there.

His grip on you tightens, and he rests his head just behind yours, nuzzling his nose into your hair as he inhales your scent. You feel like his private stuffed animal, favourite blanket, or other cuddly toy. But you know he didn't have the privilege of having such a thing—a normal childhood with toys and so on. Just like you.

So you delude yourself that this is the reason why you put your hand on his—the one with which he hugs you—and lean more on his chest. You were doing it only in search of the rare feeling of comfort that you are both unaccustomed to and that you both silently long for, however, your rational explanation doesn't include the reason why you feel the warmth rising in your chest when you hear his soft snores before you fall asleep.

It will be better this way. — You try to convince yourself as you watch Princess Irulan and Feyd dancing on the dance floor from the corner of the room. — You never wanted him. Sure, there were... some nice moments between you two, but that's all. It wasn't even a crush. Just a few irrelevant conversations and heated meetings—nothing that you haven't experienced before with someone else.

So why the hell did you want to pierce the heart of the emperor's daughter with your dagger?

A few days have passed since Atreides attacked. Harkonnen troops cleared the area and ensured that further celebrations of Na-Barone's birthday would proceed without further incident. Meanwhile, you watched as Irulan approached Feyd as well as how the Emperor and the Baron communicated about the possible marriage of these two. And although you were happy with this turn of events, it really bothered you to look at the blonde, who was obviously flirting with your Na-Baron.

You shouldn't care. Not at all. You should be happy that the burden imposed by the Bene Gesserit has been lifted from you and passed to someone else—that another woman has been assigned to carry their fucking powerful child. But you couldn't help the burning feeling of jealousy, anger, and regret when his eyes were on the emperor's daughter and not on you.

You shake your head at your stupidity and take the glass from a passing servant. You take a huge gulp and cough, unaccustomed to the burning sensation of the strong alcohol running down your throat. But you take another sip anyway. Fuck the patriarchy and the Bene Gesserit. You're not going to give birth to any Kwisatz Haderach, so you might as well ruin your liver with alcohol.

"I see you still don't absorb alcohol well, my sweet death. It's surprising, considering how many years you've been living among the Harkonnens." You freeze when you hear a familiar voice behind you. You put your glass down and turn around in shock.

"Fevas?" You ask, shocked to see a familiar man with dark hair standing in front of you. A smile forms on your face when you see his signature mischievous smirk and the twinkle of amusement in his night-dark eyes.

"The one and only. What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost." He says it, laughing, and walks over to you. He takes you into his arms without asking, trapping you in a tight embrace. You wrap your arms around him and let yourself breathe in his familiar scent for a moment.

"Aren't you one? You didn't come to haunt me for all the times I kicked your ass in front of your friends during training?" You ask with a cheeky smirk, moving away from him. He rolls his eyes at you dramatically and gives you a nudge in the side.

"No, but if I die first, know that it's the first thing I'll do as a ghost." You laugh, shaking your head. Looking at his wide smile, you realise that you haven't felt so carefree around someone in a long time. With the Harkonnens, you always had to keep your guard up, but with Fevas... it was natural to lower your barrier a bit.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm responsible for protecting the emperor and his daughter. Since our fateful trip to Arrakis with you, Harkonnens, and the Atreides, things have been quite... boring. It's the only exciting trip I've been on since then. And a few days ago... you were amazing. I even saw the baron staring at you in pure horror. You don't know how long I will remember this picture. My people almost shit themselves with fear when you controlled us all."

"You too?" You ask with a mischievous, teasing smile, completely ignoring your surroundings.

"I admired… but I was worried about you. I went to the hospital wing, but those bald idiots wouldn't let me in. Na-Baron's order or some other shit."

"Yeah… he can be quite a pain in the ass." You nod, shifting your gaze to Feyd. He danced with Irulan. You try to ignore the pang in your heart, and without thinking much, you reach for two glasses, handing one to Fevas. The two of you make a quick toast, and you're relieved to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol masking the unexpected bitterness you feel.

"Well, since he's busy... will you allow me the immense honour of having my toes trampled by you?" You look briefly at the harpies, considering his proposition. It wouldn't hurt anyone if you will have a one dance with your old friend, right?

One of the harpies nods at you while the other two stare daggers at Irulan. And in that very moment, you decide that you will not allow yourself to become another of Na-Baron's harpies. You'd rather die than become the other jealous woman.

"I am better dancer than I used to be. You can get very surprised." You respond flirtatiously, offering him your hand. You giggle, rolling your eyes as he leans down and plants a kiss on it.

"Really? Impossible. The last time you danced with me, I had to go to a medic to heal my poor, trampled toes."

"And yet you still want to dance with me..." You reply teasingly as he leads you to the dance floor. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you a little too close to him for comfort. But neither of you care.

You think it's nice to feel seen and desired. It was certainly better to have a charming man like Fevas than to prop up the walls at a party. Sometimes being in the shadows bothered you. And even though Fevas was... too lively for you, right now you wanted to break out of your comfort zone for a moment. You knew he was perfect for this.

You didn't realise that the blue eyes of a certain Harkonnen were piercing your companion with a hateful look, which especially intensified when Fevas wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and leaned towards you to whisper in your ear.

"Guilty. But I haven't seen you in so long that it doesn't seem like such a crime, does it? We did... much braver things in the darkness of our tents, remember, my sweet death?"

"In a blur... maybe I need a reminder?" You reply in an equally suggestive tone, licking your lips. Fevas's eyes drop to your lips. He chuckles throatily, pulling you even closer to him.

"Oh, you look like you really need one. Maybe even more..."

"Exchange." A familiar, hoarse voice reaches you. Before you know it, arms wrap around your waist and pull you away from Fevas. You gasp as Feyd pushes you onto his chest, holding you tightly against him. But he's not looking at you. His gaze is fixed on the man you were dancing with a few seconds ago.

"Who is it?" He asks coldly, assessing Fevas with his eyes. You see him staring at him dispassionately, but you know from the way he tightens his grip on you that Feyd isn't even close to being calm.

"I... It does not matter…" You stop as soon as his eyes meet yours. You swallow, seeing the pure, unbridled rage.

You hiss as his grip on your waist becomes painfully tight. Feyd frowns and loosens his grip on you a little, remembering how a few days ago you were bleeding out onto the floor in this same room. And in his arms. He ordered his servants to destroy the armour he was wearing at the time. And your dress. It's a pity he couldn't erase the memory from his mind in the same way.

"I think you've forgotten who I am to you, little witch. Say it."

"I… you are the Na-Baron." He hums dissatisfyingly, shaking his head at your response.

"Try again."

"Future Baron of Giedi Prime." Your answer was again unsatisfactory to him. You shiver as you feel him press the dagger against your chest, the tip of the blade playing with the strings holding the corseted bodice of your dress together. If he used a little bit of the dress, it would expose your breasts to his view.

"Don't play stupid, or I will punish you in front of everyone. And I wish that dirty, walking pile of muscles that had his hands on you didn't see me slapping your beautiful, little ass red. In fact, I'd rather be the only one enjoying this view, so be my good girl and tell me whose remains I'll throw to my harpies tonight?"

You hold your breath at his words. Feyd couldn't visit his harpies tonight. Not when they were supposed to be busy... getting rid of the baron's corpse. You think quickly, trying to find the best way out of the situation without condemning Fevas to a certain death. Feyd's intense, urgent gaze makes you blurt out words in an act of pure panic and thoughtlessness that you have probably never said to him before.

"No."

Your words are followed by silence from him. The chatter of the guests around you and the music make his reaction a little less terrifying, but you know him too well to think he'll take your refusal to follow his orders in stride.

"What?" He asks hoarsely, staring at you in shock.

"Nobody. He... he is nobody Leave him alone. He didn't do anything." You try to quickly correct your mistake, but one look into his eyes, and you know how screwed up you are. You gasp as he pulls you to a more secluded spot, shielding the two of you from any potential onlookers.

"Since when are you the one to judge what other people deserve and what they don't? Since when do you decide for me? Since when do you oppose me? Is this your lover? Did he have you? Tell me kindly, or I'll throw you on this floor and fuck you in front of everyone until you tell me." You're trembling, not because you're afraid he'll follow through on his words, but because you WANT him to claim you in front of everyone. In front of Irulan...

"What will your princess think of you?" You ask defiantly, raising your eyebrows. His nostrils flare as he sighs. He closes his eyes and tightens his grip on your waist and his dagger. You wait patiently for his reaction, ready for anything, even for him to stab you, piercing your stupid, rapidly beating heart.

"I don't fucking care. You're mine. Should I mark you? Carve my name on your chest? Maybe it would be better if I put my heir inside you? Then no one would have any doubts about who you belong to."

"Feyd..." His name leaves your mouth faster than you think. His heart beats faster when he hears you using his name instead of his title. The madness in his eyes slowly gives way to something else. A feeling you don't recognise. "Please. Leave him."

"Who is it?"

"Old friend. Nobody important." You assure him, desperately trying to convince him that it really wasn't someone he had to worry about.

"You slept with him?" The question catches you off guard. You blush slightly, knowing full well that you can't lie to him right now. You curse alcohol for reducing your ability to come up with lies and fake stories on command.

"I... It does not matter."

He growls, staring at you intensely, as he don't want to let go of the topic. You know that the moment you give him his name, your friend will die a tragic death. It bothers you, but you're much more worried about Feyd foiling your plan by going to his harpies tonight. You thought Irulan would distract him... enough for you to finish your job. As you can see, you had to take care of Na-Baron completely by yourself tonight.

So the moment Feyd turns to find the man you were dancing with in the crowd, you grab his hand and pull him back to you. Before he says a word, you lean forward to whisper suggestively in his ear:

"He can't compare to you." You brush your nose against his cheekbone. You smile teasingly as you hear him catch his breath at your sudden, unexpected closeness.

"No?" He asks, turning his head towards you. Your noses brush against each other, and his mouth is mere inches away from yours. You lick your lips unconsciously, completely by accident. However, this does not go unnoticed by him. His pupils dilate slightly, and his breathing quickens as he waits for your response.

"No." You whisper without looking into his eyes, too scared of what you might find there. He doesn't like that you're avoiding his gaze, so he wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leans over you.

"Were you planning to run away with him? Fuck in one of those hallways?" He growls furiously, trying to intimidate you and overwhelm you with his closeness.

You swallow, carefully looking at him. Your hand wanders over his armour, moving to his neck and gently wrapping around it. You pull him closer to you, so you both can feel the others breath on your lips. You stroke the skin of his neck with the pad of your thumb, still holding it in your grip.

"I just... wanted your attention." You whisper, looking into his eyes. You feel the muscles in his throat tighten as he swallows, his pupils dilating to the point that you can see only them as he stares at you, completely surprised by your behaviour towards him.

To say Feyd is shocked is an understatement. He's dazed and confused to the point that all he can do is stand in front of you and let you do whatever you want with him. He should be used to you constantly surprising him, but even in his wildest fantasies, he didn't expect that you would be so eager to press your body against his to tease him in the same way he teased you. Feyd is not stupid. He knows your actions have a purpose—an ulterior motive that he honestly didn't care about as long as you had your hands and mouth on him.

"So what will you do now? Once you have it?" He asks, licking his lips as you look up at him through your eyelashes. His heart skips a beat when he sees your gaze linger on his plump lips for a moment. You both take deeper, shorter breaths, slowly closing the distance left between you.

"Come with me and see for yourself, Na-Baron." You whisper against his lips. Feyd growls at how cruelly you are teasing him. He had never wanted to pin someone against a wall and kiss them hard and deep as much as he wanted to do it with you now.

"You didn't answer the question. Who am I for you?" He asks, moving his hand from your neck to the hair at the nape of your neck. He pulls your head back and starts placing kisses on your jaw.

You tighten your grip around his neck and press him against the wall. Feyd blinks at you in surprise, but before he can say anything, you place a finger on his full lips and shush him. He trembles as you trace the bone of his jaw with your tongue, biting into it.

"My lord. My Na-Baron... my master." You whisper against his pale skin, effectively stripping Feyd of any little inhibitions or patience he had left for you.

You moan as his lips crash against yours. Your nails dig into his neck as he grabs the sides of your chest and pulls you onto the balcony. The metal door closes behind you with a loud bang. You gasp as you feel the cool, rough metal against the bare skin of your exposed back. This feeling quickly disappears under the sensations you feel thanks to the lips and tongue of your Na-Baron, who took advantage of your moment of surprise and sneaked into your mouth, exploring it eagerly.

You wrap your tongue around his, fighting him for dominance, moaning as he presses his body against yours. His hands deftly untie the strings of your dress at the back, loosening your corset. He pulls the fabric aside, moving his lips from yours to your neck, collarbones, and breasts. You groan, leaning your head against the door and digging your nails into the back of his head.

"Your princess is probably waiting for you." You mumble, closing your eyes as his tongue curls around your nipple. He sucks on it, biting it every now and then, making you squeal loudly as he cups his hand around your other breast and massages it, teasing your other nipple at the same time.

You're completely fucked under his touch—well, not so much that you don't remember how much fun the bastard was having with the princess just a few moments ago. You scream as he suddenly slaps your breast in a punishment.

"I only have one princess I want to please. And it's definitely not Lady Corrino." He says this before pressing his lips against yours. You moan as his hands tangle in your hair, and he tilts your head to give him better access to your mouth. You kiss him back with an equally burning passion, feeling the fire of desire ignite inside you with each of his touches.

"Lady? Since when have you been a gentleman?" You ask mockingly as he moves his mouth to your neck, nipping at it and littering it with hickeys.

“Would you prefer it if I called her a whore? Maybe I should really claim you right in front of her... Would that calm down your beautiful, burning jealousy, my little witch?” You growl at him, moving your hand to his hardening length and squeezing him painfully. He groans against your neck and bites into you in retaliation, making you let out a hollow scream.

"I'm not jealous. I can always go to Fevas for pleasure if you're too fascinated by the princess to notice anything else." You huff, not wanting to give him any satisfaction by letting him know that his closeness to Irulan bothers you. But why do you feel envy while watching them two together? That was your plan. He was supposed to finally leave you alone. So why is it that when the opportunity presents itself for him to become interested in someone else, you desperately cling to him and pull him towards you?

"Hm... so this is your mysterious man? Fevas..." You tense up when you hear him repeat your friend's name. You cup his cheeks in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"Don't kill him." You ask him, knowing full well that he will refuse. But despite everything, you cling to this stupid hope, not knowing why you care so much about keeping Fevas alive.

"Why?"

"Because I ask you. Please." For the first time, you look at him desperately, knowing full well that all you can do is beg him to change his mind. Because if Feyd Rautha Harkonnen decides that someone is going to die, then even the Grim Reaper won't be able to save the poor man from him.

"Do you love him?" You know the answer to his question perfectly. However, it scares you too much to say out loud what you think and to admit to him and to yourself what you have been running away from for so many years. Apparently ineffective, since your first response was supposed to be:

No. I love you. And it's ruining my life.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, you weren't stupid or brave enough to say it to his face.

"I am a Bene Gesserit. I don't love anyone." You answer coldly and without emotion. He stares at you for a moment before pushing you away from him. He no longer looks you in the eyes, though his eyes are still glued to your half-naked form. He stays in silent reverie for a moment, then breaks it with a bitter, hoarse laugh, shaking his head.

"And I am a Harkonnen. We don't obey anyone." He growls impassively and pushes you away to get to the door. He returns to the party, closing the metal door behind him with a loud bang.

You shiver as you are left completely alone on the balcony. You try to swallow your humiliation and hurt pride and tie your dress to gain back some of your dignity. Once you've improved your appearance enough to show yourself to other people, you decide to leave to join Feyd's harpies in the dungeons. Along the way, you try to ignore how Feyd flirts recklessly with Princess Irulan.

It will be better this way.

You repeat it to yourself like a new mantra or slogan. Or at least that's how you try to drown out the cries of your wounded heart, which desperately begs your mind for a little mercy.

But if you learned anything from Feyd Rautha, it was that mercy was an overrated thing.

And if you've learned anything today... it was that you have truly become Feyd Rautha's fourth harpy.

If it wasn't a sign of weakness, you would have covered your nose to avoid inhaling the disgusting smell that lingered in the dungeons. You might have expected that the harpies would show no mercy to the baron. You weren't here to save him yourself. Just the opposite...

"The little witch looks angry…"

"The little witch was right, we are having a lot of fun."

"Does the little witch want to join?"

You give them a sadistic, proud smirk when you see the baron's condition. You shake your head and address them as sweetly as you can.

"Maybe in a moment. I don't want to take away all the fun from you. Can you leave us alone for a short while?" The women nod at you and slowly leave the room, keeping a close eye on the barely surviving baron. You wrinkle your nose as the door closes behind them. You take a few steps towards Harkonnen and stop right in front of the large pool of blood that has formed from all the wounds inflicted on him.

"So it's you… I thought my nephew was responsible for this. Ironic… get rid of me with one of my gifts to him."

"I think we both can agree that Feyd would be more than capable of it. After everything you did to him… I'm surprised he didn't try this ages ago." You reply indifferently, taking great satisfaction in seeing him like this—on the verge of death.

"You don't know our ways, witch. You may have studied and lived with us for years, observing from the shadows, but you know nothing about the Harkonnens." You tense up, offended, and angry at his words, but you do your best not to let it show. You came here to enjoy the death of the most disgusting man you have ever met. You won't let him spoil this solemn moment.

"Possible. But I know enough to convince the court and the great houses, and even the emperor himself, that the Fremen are behind your sudden, unfortunate death. Besides... I doubt anyone would cry over you."

"The same goes for you, witch. My nephew did well to make you his right hand. I'm sure he'll get rid of you as quickly and suddenly as he took you in. Harkonnens don't take wives. We have no equals. Whatever you think, you are living in pathetic delusion. You'll end up just like me. Or the boy will hand you over to these old women when he gets bored of you." A cold shiver runs down your spine at his words.

You had considered such a scenario several times, but the Baron and your interaction with Feyd today made you realise that you had to consider this turn of events to be... the most likely to happen. You guess you have to prepare for suddenly leaving Giedi Prime... and Feyd's side. Your heart clenches painfully just thinking about it.

"That's very possible. But at least I survived you." You answer and take out the dagger that you managed to steal from Fevas. You take aim and, with a small smirk, throw it, hitting the baron's throat. You were too disgusted to lay even a finger on him, in order to hurt him. You turn away and leave the room without giving him a second glance, knowing full well that Feyd's harpies will take the revange for anything he did to his nephew better than you. "Ladies! You can finish now." You announce this to the harpies as you leave the cell.

They scream excitedly and almost rush back towards the baron. You walk forward, but a sudden pull on your hands stops you. You raise a questioning eyebrow at the oldest concubine.

"The little witch shouldn't listen to this old man. The master likes the little witch very much. He threatened to kill us if we did anything to her." You frown at her sudden confession, but you don't question why she's doing it. You decide to brush it off.

"I think we both know that he... likes to break his favourite toys only by himself."

"But not a little witch. When the little witch was bleeding, the master became furious. The master almost killed his uncle when he ordered him to kill the little witch. The master watched over the little witch until the doctors said that the little witch would survive. And he told us to guard her door while he went away to kill the people who hurt her."

"I… I really appreciate you telling me this. Join your sisters. I'm sure you don't want to miss the feast."

"Little witch." She calls after you. You turn to look at her. "We can share the master with the little witch, but not with the princess." A smile creeps onto your face. Hearing that from her is the best compliment she can give.

"I'm afraid neither of us has any say in the matter."

"The little witch is smart. The little witch is too smart to think like that. The little witch has to know that the master is crazy about her from the begining." You blush at her words, your stupid heart speeds up, and your too vivid imagination presents you with various scenarios of what could have happened if Feyd... had claimed you at the very beginning. But you couldn't turn back time. You didn't want to.

"Desire makes us weak."

"Maybe. But it is also very pleasant." You smile and nod. She responds in kind and disappears behind the cell door. After the baron's scream, which is muffled by the door, you come to the conclusion that he is clearly saying goodbye to this world. Just as he should. Alone. At the hands of women whom he mentally destroyed to make them good pets, whose task was to arouse his nephew's cruelty and bloodlust.

While walking through the corridors, you come across one of the servants. He tells you that the Na-Baron requests your presence in his chambers. You frown, convinced that the last thing Feys wants to do today is to have you close to him, but you head towards the familiar rooms.

After a very short walk, you reach his chambers and open the door. You stand frozen in his doorway at the sight that greets you.

Fevas is chained. His hands are chained to the ceiling as he is hanging above the floor. His chest is cut multiple times, and his blood drips onto the white fabric placed beneath him. You tense up as Feyd's hands are on your shoulders, holding you firmly in place as you stare at the unconscious, bloody man who is either dead or within a whisker of death.

"What the hell is this?" You growl angrily, trying to turn to look at him. Feyd, however, holds your waist tightly and grips your jaw, making sure you keep your eyes on Fevas.

"I thought you'd appreciate seeing your secret lover after I brutally separated you. Where have you been? Looking for him? Maybe you were supposed to run away together, but he didn't come?"

"I leave you alone for a few minutes, and you start creating absurd stories and tormenting a poor, innocent man?" You mock him. His grip on your waist tightens as he gets more furious with every passing second.

"A man who had the privilege of enjoying what was not his." He corrects you, growling hoarsely into your ear.

"I'm not yours either. Will you kill Irulan's former lovers too?" You ask sarcastically, struggling against his grip. He growls in your ear, shaking you gently but keeping his grip on you firmly.

"I don't care about that royal bitch."

"You should. After all, she is your future wife. The mother of your heirs..." He doesn't let you finish. He tightens his grip on your throat, preventing you from speaking, and pushes you against the wall, pressing your body against his. You shudder as you see him gasp in rage, glaring daggers at you.

You tremble as you feel his fingers spread Frevas' blood on your neck. He breathes heavily, tightening his grip. He leans forward and presses a bruising, aggressive kiss on your lips. You know this is supposed to be a punishment for you, but you can't help but moan and clutch his arms as he kisses you so intensely, pulling all the oxygen out of your lungs.

You gasp, noticing a strange ache in your neck as his lips continue to caress yours, but you choose to ignore it. For a moment, you forget about anything other than him. Even the metallic smell of blood lingering in the room fades away with the feeling of his lips on you.

His other hand moves under your skirt, his fingertips gently caressing your thigh, avoiding the dagger attached there as his hand slowly climbs up your leg. You moan into his mouth as his fingers tease your pussy through the fabric of your wet underwear.

He breaks the kiss, kissing the line of your jaw. You breathe heavily, whimpering softly as he continues to work on your clit, peppering your face with kisses at the same time. You dig your fingers into his arms, desperately holding onto him as you grind against him, chasing the release he's denied you for days.

His fingers wander under your underwear, making you moan louder. Your forehead leans onto his shoulder as you gasp as he ruthlessly pushes his three thick fingers into you.

"My little witch is so quiet and obedient when full of fingers. I'm sure if I impaled you on my cock, if you had kept it deep inside you day and night, you wouldn't even dare to think about letting someone else take your place, right? Maybe that's what I should do? Maybe I need to breed you and fill your lower lips so that the other ones will shut up and stop talking nonsense?"

"Feyd..." A needy moan of his name escapes from you before you can bite your lip. All you can do is hold on to him for dear life, wrapping your legs around his waist as he keeps you pinned to the wall and on his toes.

"You make such beautiful sounds... it's a pity you've been acting like a brat lately instead of like my good girl. You understand that, in this situation, I cannot reward you." He mocks you, pulling away from you moments before you reach your peak.

You growl at him angrily and reach out to finish what he didn't want, but he grabs your wrists and pins them to the wall, grinding his crotch against yours, teasing your desperate, abused pussy even more. You scream, trying to fight him. He effectively silences you, kissing you hard, chastisingly, and biting your lower lip until it bleeds. You are at his complete mercy. And dear Lord, you would let him do anything if that meant that he would let you cum.

He presses his body against yours and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. He leans down and licks the tears of frustration from your cheeks, sloppily licking your face at his discretion.

"Can you think for a moment or have I finally made you think with just your needy pussy? Is this what you want? For me to take another woman? For me to treat her the way I treat you? For me to leave you on this damn desert? Because I can, Y/N. I can fuck the other women, become emperor the easy way, and give you damn Arrakis, but you have to look me in the eyes and tell me that's what you really want."

You stare at him in shock as he continues to hold you close to him. This is what you wanted—exactly that scenario and turn of events. You could have been finally free—free from all of Bene Gesserit's prophecies and plans.

"I... You would let me stay here? Would you let me be the governor of Arrakis? You would marry Irulan?" You ask, disbelieving that he would ever let you go from his grasp, convinced that he would rather kill you than let you leave his side.

"If that's what you want."

"It... it is..." You say this, feeling a lump growing in your throat. Your heart beats insanely fast as you desperately try to convince everyone—you, him, and your stupid heart, which is begging you to change your mind—that this is exactly what you want.

But you had definitely come too far to slip into his arms at the end and become his wife, concubine, or whatever he wanted you to be, just because you were horny for him. Desire makes us weak. But was it just lust that connected you with him?

"No. Not like that. Look at me and tell me exactly what you want me to do, my little witch." He orders, looking at you defiantly. This is a very small payment for what he offers you. Your dream future is within your reach; all you need to do is say these few words.

"I... I want you to... to marry... I..." The lump in your throat grows. You can't say anything as you look into his icy blue eyes, which pick up on your uncertainty. But she's not the only one thing holding you back.

You physically can't speak. You can't lie to him and say you want him to marry another woman and forget about you, to leave you alone on Arrakis—a place that should have swallowed you up years ago. You just can't. Your eyes widen as you realise what he's done to you.

"You son of a bitch… Which Bene Gesserit witch gave you the truth serum?!" You ask, furious, realising what he injected into your neck during your little hot session.

"This is of little importance. I was going to use it on you and ask you about your secret lover, but he himself told me a bit about your past. With a bit of pressure from my side, of course. Now, before this miracle product stops working, look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me. I dare you. Reject me like you did countless times before, my little witch. And I will gladly leave you alone."

The smirk on his face grows with every second of your silence. Your blood boils, and you feel immense rage, pursing your lips as you glare at him with hate. What's more, the bastard has the nerve to laugh at you.

"That's exactly what I fucking thought." He growls and kisses you. His lips caress yours, tasting you as if you were the only thing that could quench his thirst. He holds you tightly as if you were the most precious thing in his possession that he is afraid to let go of, even for a moment, for fear of someone stealing you from him.

You place your hands on his shoulders and pull him closer to you, letting your lust for him take over all of your senses. There was no turning back. Not after he found out that you are not indifferent to him at all and that the future with him does not seem as scary and terrible to you as it was at the beginning.

"You had no right to treat him like that." You say this as he manoeuvres you around the room and past where Fevas is still hanging from the ceiling. He pushes you deeper into his chambers and closes his bedroom door behind you.

"As if you wouldn't do the same to the emperor's daughter, if you could…" He responds sarcastically, stripping off his armour and not wasting a moment, as if he were afraid you would change your mind and start fighting him again.

"Shut up." You use the voice on him with a cocky smirk. He lifts his head, staring at you in surprise. You step back, sitting on the bed, keeping your gaze on him the entire time. "On your knees." You order in a low, suggestive tone of voice, not hiding your smirk as he is forced to obey your command right away. "Come to me." You command him, your eyes glistening dangerously as you notice his length twitch beneath his loincloth. "Good boy." You say teasingly, stroking his head as he kneels between your legs.

"Are you aware of what kind of dangerous game you are playing right now, my little witch?"

"If I were still a full-fledged Bene Gesserit, I would probably put you to the gom-jabbar test of humanity right now. You put your hand in the box, and you feel unimaginable pain until you prove that your awareness is stronger than your instincts. I'm sure Irulan or another Bene Gesserit was assigned to do this to you. I barely managed to stop one of them from giving you... a drug that would make it easier for her to convince you to extend your bloodline through her womb. Back to the topic... we both know how this test would end for you, right? How quickly would you get horny? How quickly would you tremble for release? How quickly would you show me that you love it when I hurt you, my Na-Baron?"

"Don't torment me, witch. You've been doing this for too long." He growls, moving his hands to your legs and pushing the fabric of your dress higher as he exposes your legs to him.

"You're right… why put your hand in a box when it can be useful elsewhere? Undress me." He laughs hoarsely, having no choice but to obey your command.

"You don't have to use the voice on me to make me follow this kind of orders."

"I thought the Harkonnens did not obey anyone?" You ask defiantly, raising an eyebrow at him as he licks his lips, carefully examining every inch of your (finally) exposed skin.

"I thought the Bene Gesserit didn't love anyone?"

You did not answer. You lean down, cupping his cheeks in your hands, and kiss him passionately, finally allowing yourself to express all the feelings and desires you had been hiding deep inside for so long.

"I need to feel you." He growls, pushing you onto your back. He climbs up you, placing kisses all over your body until he's hovering just above your face. He stares at you for a moment, spreads out beneath him, ready to finally take him in, and decides that his fantasies are a poor comparison to the real thing.

You both moan, resting your foreheads against each other as his pre-cum, leaking hard length, rubs against your wet entrance. You wrap your legs around his hips. You run your hand down his spine, sinking your nails into his neck as he abuses yours, kissing, nipping, and marking it as his property.

And when he is finally about to unite you and get rid of the tension between you for good, someone knocks on his door. He groans in protest and leans in to kiss you to shush you when you let out an uncontrollable laugh at his reaction to the sudden interruption.

"You should go." You say as you manage to place your hand on his chest and gently push him away from you. "This could be something important."

"Woman… how much patience I spent on you…" He growls, pressing his forehead against your temple. The knocking on the door is more insistent. His brother calls out to him furiously, and you can't help but smile as you watch his internal struggle.

Seeing your amusement, he spanks your pussy. You scream, trying to block out the sound against his shoulder so that only Feyd can hear it and not his brother, who is banging on the door. He chuckles, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your scent.

"Stay here. Don't move an inch. I will be right back. If I don't find you in this bed naked and ready for me, I will beat that ass of yours red. You won't be able to leave these chambers for a month." He gives you a threatening warning. You roll your eyes and pull him into a kiss, teasing him and pulling away from him in a moment when he wanted to deepen it.

"I'll be waiting." You promise, out of breath after the kiss. "On the way, tell your servants to take Fevas to the infirmary."

"Next time I will kill him without hesitation. Or any other lover of yours."He promises as he puts on his clothes. You crawl to the edge of the bed and help him put his armour on faster.

"I am very aware of this, my Na-Baron." You reply snidely, still kneeling on the bed and dressing him. He rolls his eyes at you and smirks mischievously as he reaches up to pinch your nipples. You squeal, punching his shoulder. He laughs and cups your cheeks, pulling you in for one last kiss.

"I'll be back in a minute." He promises and leaves, making sure to close the door behind him quickly enough so that no one has a chance to look inside and see you naked in his bed. After all, this was a view reserved only for him.

You fall onto the bed, giggling stupidly like a teenager, as you wonder what his reaction will be to having the opportunity to fuck you as the Baron of Giedi Prime.

A cold chill runs through you as you hear footsteps in the main room. You downplay it, thinking that it was the servants who came to clean up the mess Feyd made, but too much silence starts to make you suspicious. You stand up and put on some clothes before reaching for the knife attached to your thigh.

You open the door and slowly leave the room. Fevas was gone, but something was still bothering you, giving you a strange feeling of being observed. You could feel someone's presence on your back.

You avoid a sudden attack from behind and quickly cut your attacker's throat. Before you can turn around, you receive a powerful kick in the back. You stumble and fall forward, but quickly get back up, taking in your surroundings. Three women dressed entirely in black slowly surround you, each of them armed to the teeth. You tense up, ready to use the voice, but just as you're about to, you're grabbed from behind.

You only manage to stab your attacker before a cloth is placed against your nose. You struggle, trying to fight the women as hard as you can before the sedative takes effect. After a few moments, however, darkness enveloped you. But before you lose consciousness completely, you notice the familiar Bene Gesserit symbol tattooed on the women's wrists.

What catches your eye most before you hit the floor is the familiar skirt of Princess Irulan's dress.

To be continued...

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt

[dyns33]

Only wastelands part 2

Here's part 2 of my Cooper Howard x Reader ! I think it will be a story in 4 parts at the end, but I'm not sure yet.

Tags : @one-of-thewalkingdead @coolrobloxkid28 @thebumbqueen @rachmari @ilyvia @justme12200 @honeybunhottie @savanahc @gobbodoggo @bisasterbisexual @killingboredom @bonafideyapper @i-simp-for-mha-men @pixelatedprofilepic @ultimatreality @chattersstuff @harmfulb1tch @hellolettuce444 @miketastic25

If Y/N had to pay Cooper one compliment, it was that he had been a very good teacher.

Months passed, years, and she survived the apocalypse perfectly on her own.

To avoid trouble, she hid her pitboy and her gender under a large coat and a Ranger mask. Some people made fun of her, thinking she was doing this to protect herself from radiation. Everyone knew that West Tek's hardware, or any of Vault's partners, was crap.

Y/N knew it, and that was why she always had Radaway on her. Not at all in case she saw Cooper again and he needed some.

Three years without any news, doing everything to avoid attracting attention, and she hardly thought about him at all.

If she sometimes looked at the photo of him before his turning, with little Janey, it was only to remember that she should trust no one in this rotten world. Never again, she repeated to herself.

It was with this spirit that she almost killed Lucy when the young woman fell on her. Literally.

Y/N was standing in a crater, calm, silent, holding her sniper tightly, ready to shoot her future dinner, when the little vaultie had jumped to escape a yao guai.

Her instinct not being often wrong, she knew that it was more urgent to kill the bear than the imbecile who had thought that surprising a shooter was less dangerous than confronting a beast.

Even though she had a gun, was covered in blood, and one of her fingers was a different color, little Vault dweler looked harmless with her big, naive doe eyes.

It was obvious that she had been outside for a short time. A true miracle that she is still alive.

"Thank you, thank you very much !" she repeated with a huge smile, as if Y/N wasn't pointing her sniper at her. "You don't know the week I just had ! My father was kidnapped, I wanted to save him, but I discovered that he was a murderer who had bombed a city, and all the people I met tried to kill me, and…"

"Hey. I don't remember asking you to tell me about your life, vaultie."

"Oh, sorry ! It's just that I got lost. I was with someone heading to a place called New Vegas, but a big monster pulled him into a hole, then this thing attacked me. You seem nice, and I could use some help…"

"No."

“Wait. But wait !” the girl begged, following her as she went to carve the yao guai. Not the best meat, but she had just wasted five bullets for that, and the noise had either scared away the easy preys or attracted the attention of the dangerous ones.

Y/N vacillated between ignoring Lucy and threatening her, asking her to leave, but after exchanging names, the vaultie seemed to have decided that they were now best friends and should stay together.

No doubt taking her savior's silence as an invitation, she continued to talk about what had happened to her, between her meeting with a man named Maximus, and the inhumane treatment she had suffered at the hands of a mercenary.

Completely incoherent, she ended her story by explaining that she had abandoned her potential boyfriend to go on an adventure next to the guy who tortured her, with the aim of finding her dad and discovering who had destroyed the entire planet.

It was quite funny, because Lucy reminded her a bit of herself before. Y/N wondered if Cooper had seen her like that when they met, a lost and stupid thing.

At the same time, the girl's reasons for living were the same as the Ghoul. Find a family member and take revenge on Vault. Amusing. Maybe they would be very happy together.

If we forgot the fact that Lucy thought that no one should be killed, that everyone was nice, and mutual help was a fundamental notion, to start again. Ugh.

"So, some free advice, if you want to avoid having your tongue cut out, remember that it is not a good idea for a little vaultie who grew up in a palace to give big moral lessons to people who have been doing what they can to avoid dying for years, sometimes centuries."

"Why do you call me that ? You come from a vault too, right ? My pitboy picked up yours."

"Hang on. I am a victim of the cruelty of politicians and businessmen, betrayed by my own country and only alive by luck, or bad luck. You are a little vaultie. Now get away before I strangle you."

Lucy continued to follow her. And Y/N could have killed her, she really could have. This wasn't her first rodeo. She had killed a lot of people for less than that. But she didn't really want to.

Maybe she had been alone for too long. Maybe she felt sorry for this girl, like Cooper had felt sorry for her.

A deal was found. If Lucy could keep her mouth shut, then Y/N would help her find her friends so she could resume her main quest. Their paths would then part ways, and everyone would be happy.

Especially Y/N.

Because if she often talked about her dear Max, the little vaultie didn't seem so eager to find her survival partner. This was understandable, since he had tried to kill her several times, shooting her, cutting off her finger, using her as bait, and selling her.

Compared to this guy, Y/N was a saint, an angel from heaven, the perfect friend. When she offered the girl a bottle of non-irradiated water, she seemed about to ask her to marry her.

“You must be the only person in all the wastelands with good water !”

"It doesn't come cheap. But… I made a promise."

“My lovely traveling companion forced me to drink disgusting water and eat a man.”

"Charming."

Even though she seemed sweet and pure, Y/N continued to be wary of Lucy, sleeping with only one eye open and waiting for the moment when she would try to stab her in the back. First rule, don't trust anyone.

It had happened before. Never again.

Even after three years, the wound was still raw.

It was only when she saw the fear and regret in Lucy's eyes that Y/N restrained her action, yet ready to plant her blade the moment she had shown her the photo, taken out of her bag, asking her if it was her family.

Cooper hadn't been her family. He had been an asshole, who had manipulated her, who had made her believe that he loved her, and that she could love him, before abandoning her like a dog on the side of the road.

"Be careful with this Maximus. Men never change. He will take what he wants from you, and you will be hurt."

“He’s not like that.”

"I didn't think Coop was like that !" she shouted, really getting angry for the first time at Lucy, who jumped. "Yes, I loved him ! I trusted him ! It was stupid of me and I will never make that mistake again ! I hope he died in a hole, alone and in pain !"

"… Can I throw the photo away then ?"

“Give that back !” Y/N said quickly, snatching the only souvenir he had left from her hands and putting it safely in her pocket.

Lucy's sad smile indicated that she wouldn't have destroyed the photo. How sorry she was, for having gone through her things, and for having caused her pain by forcing her to talk about this man who had been so important. Also that she was happy, to see that despite her speeches, Y/N still cared for someone, even if she didn't want to.

She had never told anyone about it. It had been a long time since she had said his name, except when she woke up from a nightmare, in the middle of nowhere, calling for him like a child.

Lucy continued to smile, because for her, there must be another explanation for her precious Coop's behavior. She continued to call him Coop, even after Y/N threatened to make her eat her rotten finger.

"I know you don't like talking about him…"

“If you know that, shut up.” Y/N muttered as she continued walking towards New Vegas, trying to ignore the stream of words from the stupid vaultie, bingeing on romance novels and patriotic films.

"From the few things you agreed to share, Coop cared about you. He protected you, he taught you to defend yourself, he gave you a picture of his daughter. For me, this are proofs of love. Actions speak louder than words."

“He promised to come get me and I’m still waiting.”

"Wrong ! You left, you know how to hide perfectly, and you do everything to avoid him ! So, maybe he's been chasing you all this time and you don't know."

"What I do know is that the main clause of our deal was that you would stop talking so much, especially if it was to give such ridiculous and inappropriate advices."

They finally arrived at their destination after several weeks of walking. No sign of Lucy's friend on the way though. Perhaps he had died, or had not continued on his own.

It was clear that he wanted to use the daughter of vault 33 overseer to achieve his ends, and now that he had lost her, there was no point.

The city amazed the girl. It was the first real city she discovered, instead of those piles of ruins full of dust and vermin that were found in the four corners of the wastelands.

Her enthusiasm almost made Y/N laugh. A bit like how she had often made Cooper laugh without meaning to.

Damn, she needed to stop thinking about that bastard so often. Her mother was always saying that we manifest things through emotions and thoughts.

Her poor mother, long dead, but who had always been right.

As soon as her eyes landed on him, Y/N was crouched behind a wooden crate, watching Cooper Howard, fucking Cooper Howard, sitting near the casino, seemingly waiting for someone.

Seeing her, Lucy began to ask her what she was doing, her gaze following hers, and then the reaction was strange. Everything about this girl was strange anyway.

She started to smile.

Worse, she waved an arm at the Ghoul in greeting, opening her mouth to get his attention as she realized it wasn't enough, his cowboy hat falling over his face.

Y/N quickly grabbed her arm to pull her towards her, asking her what she was playing.

"It's the mean bounty hunter who accompanies me !" she replied happily, as if everything was normal.

For a moment, Y/N wondered if Lucy was making fun of her. If from the start, this was just a horrible joke against her, the continuation of a torture started in this seedy bar.

Then she told herself that if someone made fun of her, it was just fate.

Because she remembered that she had only described Cooper, continuing not to have any particular interest in his condition as a ghoul, and with her goodness as a jug, Lucy had not wanted to reduce him to his appearance either.

The difference was that he didn't give his name to his new pet.

“I knew you were an idiot, but not that much.”

"What ? Why ?" Lucy wondered, slightly offended and trying to free herself.

"You can't trust him. You already know that, why do you want to go back with him ? Look… I can help you find your father, okay ? Find Max. Whatever you want, but let's avoid this bastard and let's leave quickly."

"Golden rule. We said we would wait near the casino, he's there, I'm not leaving him."

With this serious look, the vault dweler would almost have looked frightening. Almost. It was mainly because it was obvious that it was impossible to reason with her that Y/N let her go, not waiting for her tirade about great friendship and the need to stay together to run as far as possible.

If Cooper noticed them, she didn't give him time to really see her, nor to catch up with her or shoot her.

Y/N didn’t turn around to check. Not because she was afraid of him chasing her. But because she was afraid that not only would he not pursue her, but she would also see him with Lucy.

Because even though he had tortured her, insulted her, threatened her… He was in front of the fucking casino waiting for this girl. And it really hurt.

[sapphic-agent]

I feel bad for Mitsuki. She has a parent's worst nightmare to raise, and people are legit calling her abusive because she doesn't worship the ground at Bakugou's feet.

Maybe I'm a bit biased, because she reminds me of my stepmother. Her family spoiled her son rotten (he was never as bad as Bakugou, but he did have some severe behavior problems that alienated him from a lot of people), and she was the only one trying to instill rules and discipline in his life, which made her the bad guy in many people's eyes.

Someone tried to make the case that Mitsuki and Katsuki (calling them both by their given names for this ask) are both horrible and abusive and I'm like no way José.

Compare Katsuki's introduction to Mitsuki's. One of them is inherently painted to be more cruel and callous and it isn't Mitsuki. In fact, I'd say that Mitsuki is actually a lot more friendly. She didn't get hostile until Katsuki did. Calling her abusive from what we've seen when she did it in front of his teachers and they didn't say a damn word is so... Disingenuous? I don't even know what to call it.

A playful tap on the back of the head is not physical abuse. If her intention has been to actually hurt him, this would be a different story. But it isn't. She wasn't even upset during the first hit, so what about that screams abuse?

I'm not averse to saying that Mitsuki could be verbally abusive. But even then for me, it's more like she's careless with her words than intentionally cruel. Like when she says, "Oh hush. This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't gotten kidnapped and caused all that trouble." I sincerely doubt she actually means, "It's your fault you got kidnapped." To me, it's more like, "You were careless and other people are suffering because of it so get off your high horse."

Because as much as I agree that the LOV's actions (and UA's negligence) are not on Katsuki, he very much was careless and that contributed to him getting kidnapped and putting his classmates in danger. Which also was the reason everyone had to uproot their lives and move into the dorms. I think Mitsuki is trying to make him more humble and aware of how his actions affect others by saying this. I don't agree with how she communicated that, but I sincerely doubt her intention was to be cruel.

The problem is that Katsuki stans take one scene and run with it. But they also somehow miss the part where Mitsuki thanks Aizawa for sticking up for him and humbly asks him to make him a good hero. She even playfully ruffles his hair and he doesn't pull away. An abusive mother wouldn't care so much about her son's dream.

This same scene also implies that she regrets letting adults feed Katsuki's ego because she knows it made him worse. That's probably why she's harsher on him now, because she's aware that the temper of a 4 year old and a temper on a 16 year old are two different things and doesn't want him to continue to be violent and temperamental into adulthood. She's doing damage control the best she can.

That's probably why you relate her to your stepmother (who sounds awesome btw). Because you see a woman who's getting hate for trying to correct her violent, bigoted son's behavior before it escalates.

(Female Katsuki stans are such boy moms. No one can say or do anything to their precious Kacchan and nothing is ever his fault because he's just a poor child who doesn't know any better so who gives a fuck about his victim)

[matan4il]

hey sorry if this is disrespectful as a non-jew but ive been reading up on stuff and thinking about i/p and.

War is synonymous with mass death. There has not been a single war in the history of mankind that has not resulted in suffering. Even Sun Tsu, in his 25-century old The Art of War, emphasized the importance of peace and of nonviolent resolutions. so i really do not understand the watermelon-fixated dumbasses who cheered on the oct. 7 massacre then decried Israel's self defense as genocide. this is the "globalized intifada" they've been clamouring for. this is *exactly* what you're asking for when you cheer on hamas and their genocidal buddies. sorry that yank school never taught you that war is bad but this is how reality works. the real pro-palestine stance would be staunchly against hamas.

Hi Nonnie!

I'm not gonna lie, whenever I think about war, the one sentence that gets stuck in my head is, "war is hell." It is death, destruction, mayhem, and cruelty that has no bounds, even when it's not committed on purpose. Even the most justified of wars. I think one of the reasons we all keep going back to WWII is because it was simultaneously maybe the most justified war ever, literally fought to stop a fascist regime and its dictatorial partners from expanding their conquests of more and more land, occupying more and more people, bringing about more and more suffering (including the most extreme case of genocide in human history), and yet at the same time, it was also the single bloodiest conflict ever, and the war itself was cruel and brutal, certainly when we talk about acts committed by the Nazis and their collaborators, but on occasion there were atrocities committed by the allied soldiers, too (not to the same degree, and not as a part of their government's policy, but my point is that even fighters who are in battle for the best of reasons, as the allied soldiers were, have some among them, who commit terrible crimes. In part, because war blurs the lines of normal reality and morality).

And I'm saying all of this, because I truly believe that we, as human beings, should always aspire to avoid war whenever possible. I would have given EVERYTHING I could in order to stop Oct 7 from happening. Because the second that the massacre started, that's when this war began, and so many innocent lives were doomed, along with the terrorists. From the POV of what is internationally accepted as an act of war, Hamas firing 4,000 rockets into Israel in one day qualifies. Hamas breaching Israel's border and invading it with thousands of armed fighters qualifies. And without a doubt, Hamas committing the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, while intentionally targeting civilians, and compounding the horror of so many deaths, with the rape and beheading and torture and abuse and then kidnapping of even more victims, it beyond qualifies as an act of war. In fact, on August 25, 2023 (a month and a half before the massacre), Hamas senior Saleh al-Arouri explicitly said in an Arabic interview that IT IS THEIR GOAL to, that THEY WANT to, start a "total war" with Israel.

Once Hamas made and executed that choice, it doesn't matter how much and how many Israelis may aspire to avoid war. We were already in one. We should always aspire to avoid war, but we also have to recognize that sometimes, the choice simply isn't in our hands. It wasn't in the hands of the British on Sep 1, 1939. And it wasn't in ours on Oct 7, 2023.

And the thing is that war IS hell. Like I said, the massacre of Oct 7 was already war. Which means, it was already hell. Certainly for its victims, but it also was already a hell that every Israeli will carry with them for decades to come. And if we don't want ANOTHER war, if we don't want ANOTHER HELL, then we have to be sure that Hamas, those who chose to start this war, will pay for it in such a way that they can't start another one, and so that others will be deterred from starting one, too (I'm thinking mainly of Hezbollah and Iran, but all Islamists need to see a western democracy not backing down from defending itself in a war it did not choose).

THAT is the meaning behind the ancient Latin phrase, "Si vis pacem, para bellum." If you want peace, prepare for war. It's the understanding that sometimes, for the sake of peace in the long run, you have to be prepared to fight in the near future.

(remember in 2014, as the pope released doves in a symbolic gesture of hoping for peace in Ukraine, and they ended up being attacked?)

I want peace. I have always wanted peace. I was the ridiculous kid, who had a "peace diary" where I wrote every day about how much I wanted peace, and how I hoped it was coming. I'm not writing that diary anymore, but I still want it, and I still believe that one day, we WILL have peace.

But it's not going to happen as long as there are extremists on Israel's borders, who still believe they can genocide us a second time, and are willing to start a war to achieve that. When they give up on that "dream," when they finally see that it will always fail, and in the process, they will suffer hell along with us to such a degree that it just won't be worth it, that's when we'll have real peace. That's when both Israelis and Palestinians will finally be safe from the threat of another hell being unleased on us. We'll have real peace, not the kind made to get something from the other side, but because both sides want peace over war for themselves (that's what the crucial mistake of the "land for peace" formula was IMO. It should be "peace for peace." With agreed land concessions, obviously. But it should be clear that the big prize both sides get is peace itself, and not that one side is doing the other a favor, and giving it peace in exchange for something material, because that kind of peace is an abstract concept, that can be withdrawn at any moment when it's not something the "giver" values for themselves. That's what happened with the Oslo accords, the PLO got territories, self rule and international legitimization, then as admitted by Imad Faluji, the Palestinian Communications Minister, Yasser Arafat planned the launch of the violent riots and wave of terrorist attacks known as the second intifada once he concluded he got as many material prizes out of the accords as he could).

On a side note, when the total number of people killed on both sides during the two intifadas was in the thousands, and the injured in the tens of thousands, IDK how anyone can claim that the call to "globalize the intifada" is anything other than a call for violence and death. The fact that this chant is coming from the same crowd that claims to be pro-peace when they demand a ceasefire now is truly deranged, and can only be rightly addressed with memes...

Sorry for the length, I guess it's still hard to process the inability of people to understand that sometimes, we don't want a war, but we do grasp that we have to fight one, even at the cost of possibly our own life or the lives of those dearest to us, even when it's bloody and nasty and hell, and civilian casualties are impossible to avoid thanks to Hamas' choice of using Gazans as human shields. I'm not sure if this helped, but I hope it somehow did! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[nocturnesanomaly]

Chapter 4: I've never been one to let go

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series:The Divine Violence - Chapter 4: I've never been one to let go

Wordcount: 5.9K

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Grooming, Self-harming behaviours

Description: You share your knowledge with the team, reminding you of darker pasts, while Simon seeks to rekindle his familiarity with you.

A/N: You. Yes you. Go drink water. Right now. Good job :)

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

The meeting room has lost its fresh smell a long time ago. Too many of the early morning hours spent looking over papers and files, that are all entirely useless to you. Paperwork. It had always been the bane of your existence, even back when it truly mattered to your career. Necessary, and all the more frustrating for it.

The morning sun had already arisen to be at the perfect angle, right where its shine hits you in the eyes when you bend down to read. It had no business being that sharp in this season. It provided so little heat in the late November days, and tended to become more of a hindrance than anything.

Every file on the table listed people of interest, cities, landmarks, field reports from past agents. You flip another one over, trying your best to ignore the file that lays at the edge of the table. The list of casualties. All the crimes of the cult wrapped up into one set of clipped documents. You didn't dare look, to see how many of the names and faces you'd recognize.

"Auness, Backfield, Springview..." Gaz lists off the cities on his document, "I haven't even heard about half of these."

Soap leans over the table from across him. He snatches the paper out of his hand, despite the little protesting sounds Gaz let's out. "Ah, think I’ve been to Springview once...lovely neighbourhood," Soap says with a grin on his face.

"They're all small communities, some were only truly fostered to life after the cult's influence," you inform them. The document in your hand lists off a field report from years ago, a group of soldiers passing by Backfield only to be met with hostility. There had been 10 when they went in, 2 came out. That had been the true start of it back then, when things really derailed.

It had been all over the news for a time. It's incredible how quickly the world forgets.

"All done by the dishonourable... Michael Wilder..." Gaz picks up the document that had been placed in the middle of the table. The only person that ever took any responsibility for it all. Though never suffering the consequences for his crimes, he let it be known he was the one that stood behind it all.

"Ah expected his name to sound different....well...anything other than Michael..." Soap makes a distasteful face, leaning back in his chair. "What kind of cult leader is named Michael, it's not a very intimidating name." Rich coming from a guy named Soap, you think, but the comment never leaves your mind.

"I think that's the point," Gaz corrects, to which you can only nod.

He did have another name once upon a time, but you can scarcely remember it now. Perhaps even before you truly got to know all the things he's done. Maybe he had a nicer side once, that was lost to some tragic event from bad people. It didn't do any good to dwell on it. Who he is now is your problem.

"Murder, Torture, Arson, Kidnapping, Rural crimes...bloody hell, what hasn't this guy done," Gaz says exasperated. There’re many things that man hasn't done that he wanted to; you don't doubt that he would've done a lot worse if there hadn't been a collapse in management. He was building something grand.

"Speculative all of them...can't connect him to all of it, but there's nobody else that could have possible been responsible, the cult is a collective." You can still remember what it was like the first time you walked amongst these cultists. The clear admiration, the shock and awe, the forsaken faith in a brighter future. They might have been misguided, but they truly believed in what they were doing, there was no deceit from them.

"Shit, even something as small as vandalism, who'd have thought" Soap points to it on the list.

"He burnt down a chapel."

Both of them turn their heads to you in an instant, the surprise on their face shows most of their thought process to you. There's not much to explain, the whole ordeal was pretty straight forward. The only crime you personally had physical evidence of still.

"Ah thought they were supposed to be a religious cult..."

"They are. And still he set fire to the chapel, watched it burn down along with the surrounding forest."

You don't feel like their open mouth in awe reaction is warranted. The cult has been responsible for far worse, is planning far worse, is doing far worse as you all speak for all you know. There's only one true problem with the retelling, you're not about to bore them with the details.

"Were there people inside? Any get out?" Gaz asks carefully.

"Twenty-two, none recovered."

The silence stretches out to an uncomfortable extent. You've already made it awkward. That's got to be a record for you by now, how long has it been? Not even 30 minutes. Despite how much you want to refute your words, they are true. There is nothing remotely funny about the group of people you're after.

"There's been more documented causalities, everything is accounted for," you try to sound reassuring, but it comes out as uncertain. The two men either don't care or don't seem to notice.

A chill runs through you, unexpected, a subtle reminder of the eyes on you. Once upon a time you'd be worried about sharing too much information with the wrong kinds of people, the reminder had been helpful then, now it was a nuisance.

"At least we finally have a good shot at getting to these guys," Gaz speaks up and tries to break the uncomfortable atmosphere you've created. "This is extensive work," he nods to you and gestures to the entire table, "impressive."

Soap nods to agree, and you follow the motion idly without thinking. A little too late, you let out a rushed, "thank you."

You block out the rest of their conversation, only perking up your head when anything of relevance was shared. The two kept a good flow of idle chatter and gossip. Nothing you paid any mind to, gossip wasn't why you were here, you reminded yourself.

"So have ye ever actually spoken with any of them?" Soap asks.

"Wha..what?" You stutter. The question came seemingly out of nowhere. You almost drop the pen in your hand. It would have made an annoying clattering sound if you did. The thought makes you tighten your grip.

"They seem like a nasty bunch, preaching all of that with no remorse," Soap continues in an attempt to explain himself, "have ye met with them? Spoken to Michael?"

You want to snap at him. It's a dumb question you want to say, inappropriate and entirely irrelevant to the investigation. Except it's not.

You want to shut him down just as badly regardless.

"Uh... I..." *Fuck me* "Yeah...he's not pleasant...listen I need to get a few of these files scanned in, so I can send them over to Laswell, you two just keep at it, and I'll be back." It's an obvious lie to everyone in the room, a bad attempt at getting out for fresh air. Neither of them comments on it, and within a flash you're gone.

Opening the front door is a dreaded action. You can already imagine the battlefield you'll be entering; the feint mumble of raised voices can already be heard from your position. The minefields are always planted carefully, specific spots that you don't expect unless you've been traversing those dirts for years at a time.

It's never specific, never the same thing.

One wrong step, and you've got someone screaming down your face.

That battlefield was your home.

Opening the door only makes the feint screaming louder to your ears. You quickly locate it to be the kitchen, easy enough to avoid. Just have to kick off your shoes, place them neatly, tiptoe past the little opening and through the living room, to the stairs and your room. All without being noticed.

"Deus spes nostra, my child."

You stop abruptly. The only reason you don't let out a loud squeak of surprise, is the hand you slapped across your mouth. Your head whips towards the couch, gone are all thoughts of the perfect view into the kitchen you're right in the middle of.

Your expression falls when you realize who it is. An old friend of your father's from his military days. He sat on the couch with his usual poise and striking manner. He'd been staying here for the last two months, something about vacation, something about deployment, something about no money, something about too much money.

You had tried asking your father several times, whenever he was in the mood for your presence. Each time you got a different answer, and there was no way you'd find yourself asking the actual man himself.

In no way did you dislike him. He'd always been nice to you, making conversation in the silence, giving you gifts when you were upset. He'd almost been a part of the family since you were young, but he'd been gone for several years, and now you felt like a different person to back then.

"What?"

A grin breaks across his face. His form relaxing into the cushions behind him as he regards you just long enough that you're about to repeat yourself.

"Did your father never teach how to properly respond?"

He runs a hand over smooth blond hair, bleached you'd say, but you have no doubt he'd disagree. Ever since he had come back, he tried to make conversation with you, foster a friendship with you, trying to become some type of adult figure in your life. You don't know what you actually see him as. A man, your father’s friend, a stranger mostly.

"Respond to what?"

"Deus spes nostra, you respond with Deus lux mea est." His stare is a piercing blue, spikes digging into your soul and setting hooks in flesh and meat.

"Why," you ask sceptically.

"It's an affirmation of our faith, an identifier, so to speak." He sees the way you stare quizzically, the way your brain is picking up on the small things, learning the minor details that you haven't even realized yet.

A loud bang can be heard from the kitchen, the split and shatter of glass, and then silence. Your mind panics at the implication, old defence mechanisms going into place. You flinch and move quickly to the nearest couch, curl up on it, making yourself seem as small and unnoticeable as possible. Every fibre in your body told you to end the conversation and go to your room, but the man didn't feel like letting you go just yet.

"Easy, my child, nothing will happen to you as long as you stay with me." He speaks soft words of comfort. It does nothing to ease you.

You try to combat the tremble in your voice, you put on a fierce look, one of strength and deep hidden anger.

"I'm not a child."

He chuckles at that. Two breaths, dry, not believing.

"Oh sure, you do seem very mature for your age."

He's mocking you. It's nothing you haven't heard before, despite the truth of the statement, you were still deemed a kid by most adults in your life. You felt like you had grown faster than the others, you acted with more care, more knowledge, and somehow you still feel behind in every aspect.

"I guess...people have told me that a lot" You look towards the opening to the kitchen. All it would take was for the conversation to become too loud, to bring attention upon yourself. It would be so easy to bring on the wrath of your father or the disgust of your mother. You had the marks to count for it.

"You're a special one, your father tells me as much. I can still remember when you were younger, always a bit peculiar." That would be a head turner if you've ever heard one. There’s no part of you that actually believes his words, yet he says them with such conviction.

Any word that comes out of your father’s mouth about you has never been in a positive light. Occasionally he'll drop a hint of satisfaction whenever you do something for him, but that's as good as it's gonna get. Being called special or peculiar by your father must be more of an insult.

The man reaches out and places an unwelcome hand on your knee. He seems to notice the change in your expression. An uncertain frown settling on your lips. "Not in a bad way, dear, you've got something others don't, a potential that others can't see, but I do," he says.

That doesn't reassure you in the slightest, but the little flame in your heart is already lit.

"You're turning eightteen soon, isn't that right? Next year?" He asks and pulls back again. He takes note in the way you seem to release the tension in your shoulders. There's no longer any noise from the kitchen. You don't hear it.

"Yeah..."

He smiles.

"Have you ever thought about enlisting? Serving with your brother and sisters in arms, I'm sure it'd make your father very proud." He seems too sure, and perhaps he was right. Your father's time in the military had always been described with honour and respect. A time of his life where he did something worthwhile, it made him the man he is today.

"Uh...I...No...I haven't"

You never want to be anything like him.

"You can't be serious, Simon!" Your voice echoes throughout the graveyard. A few of the crows in the trees fly off into the sunset. Simon knew you'd react like this. He thought himself prepared for your outrage, ready to comfort you and make you understand. Your emotions are intense and renders him silent.

"You can't go! What about everything we have going on here, we had a plan you know! You can't just bail on that."

The plan had always been a fantasy, he thought you knew that. Something you would whisper aloud in the quiet of the night. Dreams of running away, of scraping enough money to get a small flat together, of helping each other through the adult years of your life, at least until you both got stable.

He had seen it for what it was, a childish fantasy. It wasn't a reliable solution.

"God, and even just listening to the stories from my dad, it's awful there, why would you want to be a part of that!"

The graveyard feels ice-cold. The spider lilies are dead. There's no warmth to gain from the lowering sun, painting the sky in gold and orange. You've never looked more beautiful than this. Emotion so evident in your eyes, and the sun's glow reflecting it. He doesn't fail to notice the tears lining your eyes, the breaths you hold in an attempt to not cry.

You look divine, an angel on earth.

The last thing he wants is to see you plunged into darkness. Something he fears will happen when he takes his departure alone. He adores you, he always has deep down, but he needs to prioritize himself, get himself out before this place kills him completely.

"I thought we were in this together! I thought you cared for us, for me, for all this!"

Your words are chipping away at his patience. Your inability to understand his side of things, the unwilling part of you that won't even try. He understands as far as it allows him to. He knows you're afraid of what will happen if you're separated. You've always struggled with believing in yourself.

He knew you'd be fine. He knew you'd find your own way out, that you could be reunited in a few years somewhere better, healthier and safer.

"We are!" he yells back, "I care so much for you, for what we have even when it's here."

"Then why won't you-"

"But I can't stay here spider, it's killing me" he cuts you off.  The words leave a sour taste on his tongue, it's the bare-bones truth that can be applied to both of you. Your own childhood homes weren't safe for neither of you. Mentally nor physically.

"I get that...but...what about me..."

"Spider, not everything is about you!" he regrets his words just as quick as they leave his mouth. He can see the look of betrayal on your face, it matches the dread he feels in his stomach. You take a retreating step backwards. "Wait-" he calls your name; he reaches for you, but you don't let him touch you.

"You have to understand, this is the only way out for me. In the military, I might actually be able to do some good," he tries to explain to you.

You're not having any of it.

"Fine, go then! Get yourself killed" you shout, turning on your heel before he can stop you. His brain screams at him to follow you, to comfort you, to get you to understand so you won't be mad at him, but he doesn't.

After years and years of searching, Simon has found that roaming the halls aimlessly has become an adequate stress relief. There are certain times of the day when the halls are completely deserted. Each step echoes and bounce off the walls around him. A rare occurrence when he doesn't care to make his steps featherlight, he let’s people hear he's coming.

It makes for a good trance of thought. He disliked most of the walks outside around base, the frost biting at his covered skin, and damp boots seeping water into his socks, but the hallways were dry and quiet. Most of the time.

He's solved a lot of internal problems this way. Stomping through the hallways deep in thought and looking as intimidating as ever. Back when he and Johnny were new and uncertain, he used to avoid him this way. One easy way to avoid someone who was always looking for you, was to always be on the move.

Of course, it hadn't worked forever, Johnny eventually found him, and made him confront his own feelings despite how uncomfortable it made him.

This time around, his thoughts drift to you. They always drift to you these days. Like a disease you've infested his thoughts, reminded him of things that was once buried deeply. There's still a lot of things unresolved between the two of you, things he wishes he could sit you down and talk to you about.

Ever since you've arrived, you had a weird effect on him. You manage to leave your presence in every room you walk into, he can almost sense where you've been, the people you've talked to. You're everywhere, and whenever he needs to find you, you disappear completely.

It's a frustrating cycle.

Perhaps for the first time, he understands how frustrated Johnny must have been those years ago when he avoided him like the plague. You seem to be doing the same thing now, whether you're conscious of it or not.

Part of him is completely fine with it. You stay out of each other's way, avoid bringing up any bad blood. It doesn't absolve his endless questions, however. He can barely focus, even when he's with Johnny, every scar of his that he lets his eyes run over, his thoughts go to yours. How did you get them, who gave them to you, are they still alive?

He could always figure it all out on his own. There was no real need to ask, but he still held a modest amount of respect for you.

He doesn't pay attention as someone zooms right past him. Whoever they were, they were in a hurry, and in his mind, it was no concern of his. More than likely just a recruit late for training, or a soldier forgetting their report.

It's only when he refocuses his eyes and sees Johnny standing in the distance with a look of disbelief on his face, that he turns around to see you zooming away in the distance, rounding a corner when you finally get far enough.

He raises his brows behind his mask, his eyes turning to narrow slightly as he pieces together a situation, which he has no context to.

"They finally get sick of you?" Simon questions broadly, his voice taking a joking tone with the man lingering in the doorway.

Johnny didn't look all that much amused, his eyes continuing to follow you until you were completely out of sight. "They're an interesting one," Johnny mumbles while letting out a sigh.

"Don't like them?"

"Ye kiddin? Ah adore the dark, mysterious, quiet bastards that somehow always enter my life" Johnny's tone comes across as sarcastic, but there's truth to his words. Early on in their relationship, Simon had been convinced that Johnny just had a huge case of saviour complex for him. He still doesn't know if it actually did start out like that, but he can say with certainty it's developed much more complex.

Simon scoffs and shakes his head. "They didn't use to be so..." he trails off, looking back at where you went as if he could catch another glimpse, but you were already gone.

"Moody?" Johnny proposes half serious.

"Distant," Simon corrects him.

Johnny nods. He walks out of the doorway, does a gesture to someone inside, and lets the door close behind him with a soft click. The hallway is plunged back into silence as the two look at each other. Simon has never really liked intense eye contact, but he makes way too much of it on purpose.

"Have ye talked to 'em yet?" Johnny walks over to the nearby wall, leaning against it lazily. He looks tired, worn out, which is a surprise from the lack of meaningful things to do over the last while. It's not completely nonsensical, Simon is well aware of how easily Johnny can be drained from lack of activity. Having something to do is what scratches that needed itch deep in his brain.

"I've tried to." Johnny doesn't look like he believes him. He would like to convince himself that it's true, but a part of him hasn't been searching for a level ground with you either. He has no idea where to start, how to re-establish that familiarity you once shared. It makes all the deep corners of his mind stir.

Johnny gives him a look he knows well. He knows he should get on it, push past any fears and at least get back on a professional standing instead of skittish cats tiptoeing around each other like the other is going to strike.

"Don't look at me like that," Simon says defensively. Johnny puts his hands up mimicking surrender, his teeth flashing through in his smile. The smirk could easily be wiped off his face, but he has no energy to do anything about it.

"Just talk to them already, ah can practically feel the tension three rooms over every time ye two are in each other's vicinity." Johnny shakes his head, before urging Simon on his way.

A droplet of sweat falls into your eyes. It stings and leaves a burning sensation behind. In any other scenario, you'd be fighting yourself to get it quickly wiped away, to get the pain to stop. Your focus is elsewhere. Plastered on the punching bag in front of you.

Each hit sends you further and further into a locked state of mind.

One two one two one two.

It keeps your thoughts occupied. Prying them away from the creeping shadows and their tempting whispers.

Miss it. Miss it.

Hit yourself. Hit yourself.

You close your eyes and continue to count.

One two one two

Bang your face against the wall till the bone inverts.

They're insistent tonight.

You switch up your stance. Circling the bag before taking it on at a different angle. You want to excuse your jittery movements on too much coffee, but you know the reminder of how close you're getting to going near that hell is enough to have you like this.

The more you think about it, the more the small whispers in your ears taunt you. A scent of sulphur and burnt flesh sometimes pass you by. It makes you do a double take in your movements, before you can tell yourself that it's not here. It doesn't make it go away, but if you focus just a little more on the red fabric of the bag instead of the red on your knuckles, then maybe it will tone itself down.

It's a futile attempt. The voices never really listened, no matter how much you answered them or ignored them. Independent of your reaction, they only seemed to want to taunt your mind. You could hardly recall back when your mind would be relatively empty, but the time had been there.

You try to circle the bag again, coming back and forth between the space you're allowed. Your respite comes in the knowledge that nobody would be here to observe your uncertainty. There was hardly anyone at the gym this late at night. The reason you chose it in the first place.

You were rusty, a bit out of shape, but you still had your technique. It had been hammered into you for years, you wouldn't forget it that easily. Each hit to the bag makes it sway slowly around, the massive weight not being very deterred by your punches.

Blood rushes through your veins, your heart pounding in your chest and causing you to breathe unevenly. It's an afterthought to put yourself through small breathing techniques between sets. Every sound that emits in the room plays into your mind, flashes images to the forefront of your brain.

The sound of the wind outside splashing against the windows. The sound of your punches against the bag. The sound of distant footsteps. The sound of a barking dog outside, one that would bear red crosses on white pelt. The sound of low murmuring all around you. The sound of a gunshot.

You whip your head around, choking on your own spit, when you're met by the sight of the man you've been avoiding. Your eyes flicker to the person behind him, made of shadows, smiles and bad omens. It puts an uneven hand on Simon's shoulder.

The sound of your beating heart is loud in your ears, you almost fear he can hear it as well. Your breath is low, uneven, easily excusable to the exercise you were doing instead of the nightmare standing there. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palm. Small droplets of blood trickle in-between your fingers.

He hands you a water bottle. It takes you by surprise, a sudden gesture of kindness. "You look about ready to collapse," his voice is gruff and tired. You bite the inside of your cheek when you accept it.

The cold water is like heaven for your dry throat. Your body graciously accepting the hydration it's clearly needed for a while now. He wasn't totally wrong about your state. You heard the whispers, how you've been looking sick the entire day. Then again when don't you.

"Thank you..." you mumble quietly, taking another gulp from it.

"Yeah..." he looks at you like he's expecting something from you.

You stare at him wearily, trying your damned hardest to discern whatever expression he's making under the mask by his eyes alone. More than anything, you wanted to pull it off of him. You wanted to see him, truly see him.

Would he have stubble? A full-on beard, maybe. Would he have the same hair length as back then, would he have smile lines, wrinkles when he laughs? His voice was deeper, would his laugh sound different now?

"We need to talk," he says your name so quietly, like he's afraid to utter it, as if you'd spring on him like a monstrous creature or haunted ghost.

"We're talking," technically you aren't, but for you this might as well be a conversation already. Heat blooms in your chest, rising unwillingly to your cheeks. Once upon a time that would've been from bashfulness, now it was more of a deep-rooted shame, a fear of your own anticipation for what's to come.

"I'm..." he stutters over his own words, "I'm not entirely sure what went wrong between us."

He pauses and your eyebrows furrow, your mouth quivering with words unspoken.

"Maybe it was something I did, being the reason, we stopped talking but..." your eyes flicker around his mask, the urge turns pained in your chest. He shakes his head. "I hope we can put it past us, for the sake of the mission."

You hand the water bottle back to him. He accepts it, but you can see in his movements how he takes it as rejection. Your eyes are clear on the target he's becoming.

"No, I..." your voice comes out raspy. You clear your throat. "I'm not sure either, what went wrong, but I hold nothing against you...Simon...I guess we just grew apart." It's a big fat lie, but the millisecond of what you'd call relief that shows in his eyes are well worth it.

He exhales his breath loud enough to be noticeable, his form sagging just a little without breaking. "You don't?" when you nod as confirmation, he matches it. "That so...I'd like to start again...I'm curious where you've been all this time, it would be nice to catch up...begin again."

That little voice in your head bristles. A quiet little thing that belongs to a childhood version of you. It wants him to shut up, to stop the pretending front he's putting on. Then there's the other little voice, a voice of reason, one that's still young and malleable. They fight over your decision-making.

He looks down at your hands, notices the feint trail of blood where you split a knuckle. His eyes go small, focusing on it a tad too long before you can pull your hands out of view from him.

Your teeth catch your lip before you make the conscious decision to let it go. "Yeah...we can...try again...from the beginning," the dry laugh you let out doesn't sound convincing, but it seems to be enough for him to buy into. Maybe all you had isn't dead just yet, and when the call comes crashing it all down, you can use the connection for your own burning benefit.

"Right..." there's a note of excitement in his voice, the slightest change in octave and rhythm. "I'll be looking forward to it," he takes his turn to leave the same way he had sneaked in. "Oh, and spider, clean yourself and the equipment up, gonna give yourself a bad reputation like that."

He's being cheeky behind that mask, you can tell. Yet the reawakening of the nickname stirs the softest of a smile to almost make it to your lips.

Your feet hurt. Every step sends another spike of pain up your legs, every swaying movement threatening to send you barrelling forward. You're late. Horribly late. Each breath catches in your throat, and you barely look at the road before you pass it. Only a loud honking alerting to just how close you were to being run over, but you couldn't stop, you had to catch him in time.

You couldn't believe you were almost missing this. Your last chance at seeing him before he leaves for good. The wind hisses in your ears, the cold burns at your uncovered feet. You couldn't believe you had let it come to this.

For the last few weeks, you had been ignoring him, only sharing the most necessary of things. There was no banter between you, no jokes or laughter, and all because you couldn't contain your own anger for his decision.

His stupid, stupid decision.

You couldn't talk him out of going.

He couldn't talk you out of resenting him for it.

The sky is on fire. Rays of the sun blinding you on your way, making you squint your eyes to see. The oranges mixed with yellows makes the clouds look unreal. It's a thing that would have stopped you if it weren't for the agonizing consequences of your decisions weighing on your shoulders. The sky meant nothing to you now.

The graveyard is a welcome sight, the rusted gate creaked open wider than normal. You zoom past it, stumbling over one of the larger rocks scattered about. It propels you forward into the yard, crashing your knees against the gravel. It cuts and stings, but the buzzing under your skin is too loud to notice.

You call out his name. Your voice holding no bounds for your desperation. The only sound that comes back is the crows squawking, the fluttering of wings as they fly far away from you. There's no answer to your call, no familiar voice sounding out to meet you, no warm hand on your shoulder that would pull you into a hug.

He's gone, you realize all too late.

One forgetting mind, two arguments with your mother, and a punishment to follow, all for nothing. You missed your window. You missed the time he'd said he'd wait. He's left and with what, the only knowledge that you're angry with him. He's putting himself in potential danger, and he thinks you resent him.

More than that, he's actually out of reach for you now.

A fear that had infested your bones long before his ugly announcement. A fear that was now no longer just a fear.

Your breathing stutters. Your vision blurs. Blues, oranges, greys and reds, blobs of nothing filling your vision spilling down your cheeks. They might as well freeze in place. Your legs refuse to obey, your body hunches over from every dry heave, every soundless sob and every claw at the ground.

You were alone now.

Yet a hand places itself on your shoulder. It spooks you enough to let out a scream, yet when you whip around, you're only met with a soft smile. The hand is too big to be Simon's, too rough and too scarred. You stare into the eyes of a different man.

A friend. An enemy. A figure you could cling your shattered mind to in your late teen angst.

"You'll be alright," he mouths the words, and you're sure he speaks them, but they never reach you.

"You can meet him again," he stands tall, watches down at your kneeling form with a twist of something that churns your stomach, "I can show you the way to him."

"What?" Your voice is barely audible.

"Through the path to God we may find redemption, and through that path you may find your friend once again, we are all the same under His light."

He tosses a lighter down on the ground next to you.

"Let me show you the path to the light."

You can smell the smoke in the air, taste the ash on your tongue, feel the blood beneath your nails.

It's too late to let go now the hook has sunk into flesh.

The flame is already lit.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @chickennn-soupp @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @lilynotdilly @islnd-vybz @spicyspicyliving @kaoyamamegami

[vixendoesstuff]

Fuck it, I'm embracing the cringe

Trolls AU where everything is relatively the same except Branch is a Techno Troll, purely for the reason that those guys are my favs out of the tribes and nothing else

Like maybe his egg somehow washed up to the Troll Tree from some event I haven't made up yet, and he's found by maybe John Dory or Grandma Rosiepuff and was brought into the family

Same thing happened after he's hatched, he got into BroZone as the weird looking but funky Troll baby Bitty B, the thing happened, the band broke up, leaving Branch alone with his grandma

Then she got eaten (cue the meme)

Poor Branch then turned grey due to the trauma he went through, like

More or less he looks like this for 20 years, with the addition of his pixel heart being split in two for added angst

Same thing happened as in canon afterwards; Branch is the village grouch and self imposed exile, except maybe his treatment is sort of worse here 'cause he's not like the others. Evidence, he has fins for legs, fins for ears, his hair can't stretch like all Pop Trolls can, and just generally the "don't sing or dance or hug" thing. Hence, he's a bit more bitter and more towards the village and more willing to lash out more than he did in canon (or atleast what we're shown on screen anyway)

I don't think his poor treatment would go too far since I see King Peppy sort of protecting Branch as best he can by redirecting the villagers' anger away from him. Maybe due to him thinking his treatment from the civillians were too cruel, or it's 'cause he knows Branch is a Techno Troll and felt bad for suffering this fate from the other Pop Trolls and being separated from his own people, so he did his best to accomodate Branch (doubtful, but no one is perfect I guess)

(Will Peppy tell Branch the truth about him, though? Lol, hell no, he's too much of a wuss to do that)

So I guess in a way, he's more or less on good terms with King Peppy, but not enough for him to consider him a friend or anything. Branch just trust Peppy's judgement a bit more than in canon (still think he's an idiot, though)

But anyway, same thing happened, Poppy hosts the biggest and loudest party ever and got raided by the Chef Bergen, Poppy and Branch sets out to Bergen Town to rescue the kidnapped Trolls, set Bridget up to a date with the king, Branch explains his sad backstory, Creek betrays them and got the whole village snatched up, they all lost their colours, Poppy and Branch sings True Colours to get their colours back and subsequently got Branch's colours back (which I'll make a drawing referencr later 'cause I'm still debating on what he'll look like), and they sang to the Bergens to make everything sunshine and rainbows, The End

So yeah it's all the same with the added edition of Branch being a Techno Troll. Other than gags and jokes about him being different and a sprinkle of added stuff to his lore on why he's different, nothing really changes

But when World Tour happens

Oh boy

[spacexseven]

Though, imagine if subordinate reader improves their talents as a member of the port mafia out of pure spite (and mostly because they want to be away from Dazai) and got promoted to a executive. I feel like Dazai would be pissed and try to sabotage reader in their missions but I don't know. What do you think?

hi! i was thinking about what if there's people in the port mafia willing to help subordinate darling? like verlaine, koyou...i think they would stand a chance against dazai, no?

okay so i'm combining these asks for a little alternate pathway :> while i doubt darling could become a executive that quickly, i think as long as they become more useful to the pm, they have a chance out ^^

cw: yandere themes, violence, kidnapping

dazai was surprisingly easy to distract.

all it took from your side was a few carefully staged conversations mentioning that you were scheduled to go out of the city with chuuya, just enough to spark the jealous fires that burned fiercely in dazai. and then, dazai—that fool, he didn't even bother to check before going on a furious hunt for the other executive. dazai may find sick satisfaction in constantly calling you stupid, but hiding your strengths was always in your survival plan.

while he was busy chasing a red herring, you got to work. you only had so much time before he caught up with chuuya and realized that you were always on base, after all, and it was vital you used this precious time alone well. thanks to your previous careful observation and planning, you were progressing pretty well. apart from the regular exercise, you found unexpected help from within the pm—koyou, who appeared at random like a guardian angel with softly whispered and valuable advice, the man in the basement, who always seemed amused at your predicament but was more than willing to teach you to take and give a good beating. all of that combined with your sheer resolve and desire for revenge got you very far—not that dazai had a clue.

it was even easier to deceive him, especially when he was so confident that he was always right. to dazai, you would forever appear helpless; a pathetic heap of bones and flesh dumped at his feet to use as he pleased. and you never proved him otherwise, if only because you knew the truth would not please dazai. there was someone else who needed to know about your abilities—someone who could take you away from under dazai's foot. you had long come to terms with the fact that you had to stay in the pm. unless a mysterious organization came to recruit you, or the underground of yokohama collapsed, it would be impossible to leave. but that didn't mean you had to suffer such humiliation the whole time you were there. all you needed was to prove that dazai would only hold you back, and you would be one step closer to freedom.

the moment mori acknowledges your efforts and you're reassigned somewhere else, however, is when you learned how petty dazai could be. it ranged from intentionally setting you up, interfering with your orders from higher up, to even selling you out to your targets—anything he could think of to scare you off this path and back into the familiarity of his shadow. but when your hatred for him ran deeper than your fear, none of his tricks worked. until he finally seemed to lose his patience, and you found yourself tied up painfully with only dazai in the room...

[sinhal]

Not to put pressure on you, u don't have to answer this but was wondering if you could explain more about the cult mindset of gls u mentioned 👀

Disclaimer: while I have done research on this subject and this is mostly talking about the cult warning signs that the glc falls into, I have never been involved with a cult or closely interacted with someone in a cult, so please correct me if I say something wrong.

The Cult Like Nature of the Green Lantern Corps

The Green Lantern Corps of the 60s to the 90s (post Emerald Twilight GLC functions much differently) falls into cult-like practices in several ways. The most blatant is the belief of the perfection of the leaders, lack of ability to question or doubt the leaders, and dismissal and isolation of those who attempt to leave the Green Lantern Corps. 

Belief in the Perfection of the LEaders

The Guardians are the Green Lanterns’ masters. The first time we see Hal call the Guardians his masters was in Green Lantern (1960) #30, not even four years after Hal was introduced. This showcases the complete authority the Guardians have over their Lanterns, as the word master means that someone is dominating or owning another thing. The Guardians dominate their Lanterns' will and beliefs causing them to believe in the perfection of their leaders. Hal even says, “the Guardians were right, as always” in Green Lantern (1960) #150. The Guardians have an immense amount of knowledge and this causes an unhealthy amount of devotion and idealization in the minds of the Lanterns.

In fact, in Green Lantern: Mosaic #6, John Stewart says, “Ah, yes. Satisfying the Guardians. Isn’t that what we live for?” The idealization of the Guardians as perfect has led to a scenario where the Lanterns live to serve them. In this scenario especially, they do not care about the ethics of the Guardian’s actions. The Mosaic Cities is a 90s plot where the Old Timer kidnapped a large number of cities from different planets, and after he was defeated, the rest of the Guardians kept the cities to study. This was covered up by Hal who convinced, using a show of power at times, the original planets to allow their cities to stay with the Guardians (Green Lantern: Mosaic #16). The people had no choice in the matter and actually rebelled multiple times in an attempt to go home. Hal and John, the main Lanterns involved with the Guardians at the time, never really questioned the ethics behind the experiment. In fact, John actively opposes any attempts for the people to go home. This showcases how two usually logical and ethical men have become twisted because of how much they idealize the Guardians and their ideas of perfection.

Lack of Ability to Question Leaders

On the rare occasions that a Green Lantern questions the Guardians, they are either dismissed or forced to suffer for this question. In fact, in the Green Lantern (1960) #150 example, even though Hal admitted the Guardians were always right, he was still punished for initially doubting them by not being able to return to Earth for a whole year in universe. In addition, that arc was filled with tests for Hal to prove his loyalty. He, the Greatest of all their Green Lanterns as he was referred to even in this comic, was not granted even a moment of doubt or uncertainty. Even after a year filled with tests and repeatedly proving himself, the Guardians still responded to his pleas to go home with telling him how disappointed they are in him for still desiring to go home (Green Lantern (1960) #172). This showcases the unwillingness of the Guardians to admit their own faults. “Hal should have fallen in line with their thinking and abandoned Earth for them” is their thinking. 

Another prominent example of the Guardians punishing Hal for questioning them is in the classic Green Lantern/Green Arrow era. In Green Lantern (1960) #76, Ollie yells at the Guardians, telling them they’ve made a puppet out of Hal and that the Guardians need to “come off [their] perch…learn where [humans] are at…and why!” The Guardians do decide to entertain Ollie’s motion and send Appa ali Apsa (aka the Old Timer) to journey across America with Hal and Ollie. However, in Green Lantern (1960) #77, after Hal’s ring mysteriously failed, the Guardians reveal they’ve reduced the ring’s powers, specifically it’s power to protect Hal from mortal injury. Hal is on an Guardian approved mission with a Guardian, yet his ring is no longer allowed to work correctly because he’s not performing his regular duties. More than just that explanation, this feels like a retaliation. Hal supports Ollie’s yelling at the Guardians, so they punish Hal by reducing his power. In fact, when Hal goes solo again, he regains the full ability of his ring. This is not as explicit of a punishment for disobedience as the space exile, but it still shows the controlling nature of the Guardians and how they respond to questioning.

Dismissal and Isolation of Those Who Leave the Corps

Whenever a Green Lantern decides to leave the corps in any way but death, they are considered wrong for that. The first time we see this is in Green Lantern (1960) #30, Katma’s origin story. In this issue, Katma decides to quit the Green Lantern Corps for the sake of her love, and Hal is instructed to use any possible means to make her change her mind. Hal ends up tricking her that they’re being attacked to show that her loyalty to the Lanterns outweighs the love in her heart for her fiance. This shows the controlling natures of the Guardians. Katma was not allowed to quit of her own will. Instead, another Lantern, one she had never met before in fact, was sent to make her change her mind by any means necessary. There is no true, unpressured freedom to leave the corps once in it, and this is treated as something to be celebrated by the characters.

In fact, Katma Tui herself is the most prominent and repeated defender of the Guardians’ actions, especially revolving around her. She appreciates Hal changing her mind, and she changes his mind the first time he almost quits the corps (Green Lantern (1960) #150). The second time, he actually quits the corps, and both Hal and Katma consider this a personal offense against her. As she says in Green Lantern (1960) #193,  she can forgive him for tricking her, but “what [she] cannot forgive is his leaving the corps himself–for love!” Hal is a traitor for deciding to leave, and he is isolated from his former support group. Both Hal and Katma buy into the idea that “leaving == betraying,” and they are the two Lanterns supposed to most exemplify the values of the Green Lantern Corps and the Guardians themselves. Hal only manages to make up for this transgression through years of work, and still, in Green Lantern (1990), the Guardians do not trust him as much as they did before. He will always be tainted because he attempted to leave. A Green Lantern should die before giving up their ring, that is the message that is taught in these stories.

Conclusion

The Green Lantern Corps’ cultish qualities stand out the most in the late 70s and early 80s as the writers begin to develop the darker side of the Green Lanterns and the Guardians, but it existed much earlier and much later. While this is just a small amount of the Corps history, it stands out for its harshness and controlling aspects. The isolating aspect of the corps and the tenacity for isolated, homeless people to be selected for it, showcases the more dark side of the corps, and why I call it cultish.

Extended Reading

Issues I wanted to cite or considered talking about, but I didn’t find the room for or I felt like it repeated too much of the themes I had already discussed.

Green Lantern (1960) #1 -Hal’s energy self is kidnapped by the Guardians and then his memories are erased of the encounter

Tales of the Green Lantern Corps #1 - “The entirety of the Green Lantern Corps stands to do thy bidding, Masters” speaks for itself

Green Lantern (1960) #166-170 - the “PsychoDrama” arc, Hal is put into a dream world where a Green Lantern died because of the yellow weakness, and after his fellow Green Lanterns learn the Guardians had been hiding a ring with the capability to withstand yellow from them, they rebel, but he stands with the Guardians.

Green Lantern (1990) #32-35- the “Third Law” arc, Hal questions the Guardians and almost tears the whole Green Lantern Corps apart

Green Lantern (1990) #48-50 - “Emerald Twilight”, after Coast City is destroyed, Hal begins to rebel against the Guardians, all while they still call him their servant and he calls them master.

Secret Origins of Super-Villains 80 Page Giant -In the Sinestro story, Ganthet admits that the Guardians could have removed the yellow weakness, but they kept it as a measure to control the Lanterns.

Works Cited

Green Lantern (1960) #30, John Broome, 1964

Green Lantern (1960) #76, Denny O’Neil, 1970

Green Lantern (1960), #77, Denny O’Neil, 1970

Green Lantern (1960) #150, Marv Wolfman, 1982

Green Lantern (1960) #172, Len Wein, 1984

Green Lantern (1960) #193, Steve Englehart, 1985

Green Lantern: Mosaic (1992) #6, Gerard Jones, 1992

Green Lantern: Mosaic (1992) #16, Gerard Jones, 1993

[itsmeyaspider]

This is turning into a lovely evening~

Ramsay Bolton x female reader

Trigger warning: gore, violence, sexual harassment, mention of r@pe, mention of torture, r@pe, please be beware that Ramsay is not a nice man, kidnapping, blood kink,forced pregnancy

>>Credits go to the artist<<

~ Before we begin, I want to make it clear that Ramsay is not capable of loving anyone at all. The only thing he really enjoys is torturing and abusing others. You can see it how he treats his fellow human beings, most of the time he manipulates them. Even his father isn't safe from that. The only thing that makes sense to me is that he sees you like a pet or more of a plaything but nothing serious like love.

~ Maybe you crossed Ramsays path once or you work as a maid for him, it doesn't really matter because I doubt he would ever treat you differently.

~ You now have his full attention and believe me that's something you really don't want. Because one thing is for sure Ramsay is a very possessive man and when he wants something, he gets it.

~ I imagine thar he simply takes you from your home, he grabs your (h/c) hair and pulls you into his castle in Winterfell. If your family members were to resist, he would either have them burned to death in agony or lock them away in his torture basement where he would do many unspeakable things. Maybe he let you watch it with your own pretty eyes, just to make sure that you know where your place is.

~ He would lock you away in one of his rooms where only he has access to. Even Roose couldn't do anything about it if he wanted to. Ramsay hates to share things, and if anyone dares to look at you in the wrong way, he'll cut their eyes off or even worse.

~ Your life would be a living nightmare, even if Ramsay would treat you a little bit better than Reek, he would still hurt you. This man is a big sadist who loves to see other people suffer and that includes you (Y/n). Ramsay would enjoy your sweet cries, your little tears or your begging to stop him.

"Please, Ramsay, I'm sorry. It won't happen again" you said, lying helplessly on the could ground, blood dripping from your open wounds, but Ramsay doesn't even consider to stop, the fun just started. And besides he is already hard from you small whines.

~ Every day he would take you, whether you like it or not. You have no ther choice to take is cock and be a good pet. He just love seeing you so helpless, especially when he demolished your body with a dagger. He might even carve his name into your back so that everyone knows who you belong to.

~ Never get the idea of running away, because that would give him even more pleasure he already has from you. He loves a good cat and mouse game, especially when he knows that you can't escape. No matter how fast you try to run, his dogs are always faster.

You run and run as fast as your legs could carry you, there is still a small spark inside you, that you might have a chance to really escape this monster. This thought is quickly ruined as you hear loud barking, your (e/c) eyes start to water. You don't look back once and just keep running, knowing that he has sent his dogs after you. Suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your ankle as you fall roughly on the ground. You let out a pain filled scream as the barking becomes louder. You hear a whistle, it sounds pleased and you know directly to who it belongs to "Now Now...look who I caught. You disappoint me, I thought you had learned your lesson, what happens when you defy me. But don't worry, I'll make sure you never come up with the idea of deceiving me again. How about I cut your little legs? Doesn't it sound lovely?"

~ That only thing what might safe you from his torture is a pregnancy, he would be a little bit nicer to you because he needs an heir. It doesn't matter if it's a bastard because you know what they say "Bastards can make it far this days" . But don't think you're safe now, if you dare to betray him again, he would hurt the child or even worse. After all, he can make new ones with you.

~ Maybe you should also pray to the gods that your child doesn't turn out to be anything like his father.

[yanderes-galore]

Can you do a gender-neutral yandere ram with human darling? i really really liked the omnic one!!!!

Sure! He certainly has a different tone in this one so I'll write it!

Yandere! Ramattra with Human! Darling

Pairing: "Romantic"

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Degrading behavior, Human pet, Manipulation, Prejudice against humans, Kidnapping, Dark themes, Forced "relationship".

Ramattra doesn't typically get along with humans.

The reason he put together Null Sector was because he wanted to wage war against humans for how they treated Omnics.

He doesn't believe humans could live peacefully with Omnics based on what he's seen.

All humans may not be at fault... but he tries not to think of it.

After all, humans have hurt innocent Omnics, haven't they?

If Ramattra began to "have feelings" for a human he'd be in denial.

He feels as though he's betraying his own people when he thinks of you on such a way.

You're no doubt one of those mentioned "innocent" humans that caught his eye.

You live in a heavily Omnic populated town and try to help out.

When he speaks to other Omnics they mention you are a huge help.

Ramattra finds this baffling, these must be lies!

They aren't lies... he finds this out when he sees you try to play hero and hide Omnics away from Null Sector drones.

Why do you act like he's the villain?

Why do you insist on acting like you're helping?

Ramattra, due to his denial, probably tries to excuse his feelings.

He is aware of Zenyatta's human pet Genji (In his eyes that is what their teacher/student relationship is).

Perhaps as a result he begins to see you in such a way.

He will admit you appear to be good natured, you may even prove useful, so he'll take you in.

You have no idea what you're getting into when Ramattra calls for your capture.

Ramattra doesn't hate all life, he simply hates humans for what some of them have done to his people.

While he resents his own feelings towards you and depicts them as simply wanting you as a pet... soon he'll have to accept how he feels.

Your "relationship" with Ramattra starts rather degrading.

Null Sector has a deal with Talon to obtain supplies.

As a result Ramattra meets with Doomfist to obtain supplies for you, his human pet.

Ramattra seems like he'd degrade you at first in an attempt to vent his frustration.

He sees you as a fragile pet despite the fact you're human and tries not to harm you physically.

But he can get rough at times.

He often taunts you about your organic weaknesses, he makes you feel like you need him as he gives you items to survive.

He feels having a human pet is a message for his cause.

He wants humans to think they're below him.

Over time though there's a chance Ramattra will think of you in a different light.

He realizes you've done nothing wrong like the Omnics he is trying to save.

He's a monster, yet he already knows this.

As a result he may try to soften his behavior.

He understands somewhat... now you've suffered almost as much as him and his people.

In an attempt to apologize he tries to pamper you more.

Any bruises due to his rough and metallic grip are soothed with medicine and you're left to rest.

He realizes you don't deserve his ire.

It's at this point he begins to accept his emotions towards you.

You aren't bad like the rest.

No... now you're similar to him, he's made you this way.

Maybe he really does care.

You're still kept in captivity, although Ramattra tries to be better.

Other humans are still meant with his rage, but not you.

You're only met with softer affections and praises.

It's like other humans are wild animals while you've been domesticated by Ramattra.

At some point you could feel two different ways towards your captor.

You may begin to fester rage within you, similar to Ramattra did.

Then there's the other extreme, you fall into acceptance.

You can no longer be with other humans now.

You only know Ramattra now.

Plus... why would you want to be involved in a war, anyways?

Instead... you can prove useful to Ramattra and Null Sector.

Just as a pet should.

[andreal831]

Is Klaus a good father?

I've been holding this one back for a while and if you are in this fandom, I'm sure you can imagine why. But recently on tik tok someone told me that I just "didn't understand" Klaus' character. But I promise you I do. Which is why I struggle to like him for most of the show.

Because for 90% of the show Klaus is a terrible brother and father.

We can't talk about Klaus and fatherhood without first talking about Marcel. Klaus took Marcel in with the pretense of adopting him. But he allowed his own jealousy to rob Marcel of having any kind of typical childhood. Elijah wanted to educate Marcel and we see they bonded pretty quickly when Marcel first comes to live with them. And most parents would be thrilled to see a child who has lost his mother and experienced so much trauma was still able to connect with someone and be excited about learning. Instead, he is jealous and releases Kol. He allows Kol to completely go off the rails in the same house where a very mortal child is living.

We don't see any more of their relationship until he is older and we see Klaus interfere with Marcel and Rebekah. Again, some people say it's to protect Marcel, but it wasn't. It followed the same pattern of abuse against Rebekah that we've seen before. He continues to rob Marcel of his choices, with joining the war, with dating Rebekah, and then later by trying to steal the city Marcel had worked over 200 years to solidify. Klaus does not take Marcel in because he wants to be a father, he takes him in because he wants a warrior friend. Which is why he released Kol when he felt Elijah "stole" Marcel from him. He never truly wanted family, he had that. He wanted someone who would go along with his debauchery.

And then Klaus finds out about Hope.

Klaus' first reaction to finding out of Hope's existence was to tell the witches to kill Hayley and the baby. Which I don't fully hold against him since he didn't trust it was his and was scared. But even after he accepts the baby is his and Elijah brings Hayley back to the house, Klaus shows almost no interest in Hayley or the baby. Rather, he is on a power quest to take over New Orleans from his first child.

The first time we get any sense Klaus cares whether the baby lives or dies is when he nearly chokes Hayley to death. I'm sorry, but that is not a sweet moment. It is abuse.

Throughout season 1 we see Elijah and Hayley grow close while Klaus is absent for most of the pregnancy. Klaus even leaves a pregnant Hayley in the woods alone with Elijah while he is suffering from his wolf venom. Elijah could have killed Hayley and Hope, and very nearly did if it wasn't for Eve. Klaus showed no regard for their safety because he got his feelings hurt that his brother doubted his intentions. Intentions that should have been questioned. Elijah had seen Klaus seek power over family for a thousand years and the last thing he heard from Klaus about the baby was he wanted a legacy, not a baby. Yes, there are a couple of moments where we see he cares or is afraid, but he does very little to actually help Hayley throughout her pregnancy. In fact, he kidnaps her and lets his brother watch over her instead of him.

Then Hope is born. Yes, Klaus clearly cares for her. I'm not denying that. But Klaus is a textbook narcissist and they historically do not make the best parents. We see a moment of selflessness when he agrees to send Hope off with Rebekah and clean up the mess he's made in New Orleans. But again, he relies on Elijah to clean it up while he mopes and isn't concerned about the mother of his child until Elijah forces him to.

Again, we have a sweet scene with Hayley and Klaus reuniting with Hope, but it makes no sense that they left her with Elijah. Elijah who was still struggling to control himself after being mentally and physically tortured. The only protection Hope has is Cami who would not be able to protect Hope if Elijah lost control.

Another moment people think is cute, but I find incredibly manipulative, is when Klaus has Cami and Elijah bring Hope back to New Orleans. The city is still unsafe. In fact she had just been attacked by Finn and Freya was on the loose, someone they didn't trust, Rebekah was missing. It was not the time to bring her back. But Klaus wanted to make sure he had his werewolf army, which Hayley went through with the wedding. A good parent would put their child's safety over anything. Hope should have stayed out of New Orleans until he was sure they could protect her. But Klaus continuously puts his own wants over even Hope's safety.

We don't see much of Hope and Klaus' interactions in the month they all live together. In fact, we see Jackson with Hope more. And that's still limited. Hope is sent out to the bayou repeatedly. A lot of this is because Klaus was busy dealing with all of the threats from his family. Again, it was not safe to bring Hope back yet.

When Dahlia shows up, Klaus goes off the rails. People love to say he was a master manipulator, but he really was just going with the flow and picking the most chaotic option available to him. He admitted to killing a friend of the wolves, effectively losing the army he worked so hard to ensure and causing doubt amongst his whole family about his trustworthiness. Again, instead of putting Hope's safety first, he lets his paranoia lead him and he puts Hope in more danger. Dahlia only finds Hope because he hands over his blood. Instead of working with his siblings to defeat Dahlia while Hayley runs with Hope, he betrays everyone and then curses Hayley. Once again, because he's a narcissist and thinks he is the only one who can protect Hope. This is in direct contradiction to the fact that he's seen his family and Hayley fight to the death for Hope already.

For perspective, I think we need a timeline of Hope's life so far: Hope was born and her mother was murdered while holding her mere second after her birth. Then within a few days sent away from her mother. Mothers bonding with babies in the first few days is so important for development. Rebekah raises her for 6 months or so and then she gets to see her mom for a night and her dad for a couple of hours. Cami and Elijah take care of her for a few weeks and then she's in New Orleans living with Hayley, Klaus, and Jackson (people this 7 month only baby really doesn't even know) for a month. Then after adjusting for a month, she loses Hayley and Jackson for 6 more months. Hope is surrounded by Klaus, Freya, and Elijah -- again, people she doesn't really know. The first year of her life is full of upheaval and she is not able to create a secure attachment with anyone. Klaus only makes this worse by taking Hayley away for six months.

And before you say, 'he did it to save her life.' He made absolutely no effort to help save her and even objected to Elijah bringing Hope out to the bayou. It was a punishment for Hayley believing she knew what was best for Hope even though he was behaving in the exact same way. He also apologizes for it and says he was wrong later. He even agrees he shouldn't have done it.

This is where I get frustrated with Klaus stans. People always want to say he has the best character development, but when I call him out for his early behavior, they get upset. It's because of his early behavior we were able to see any growth.

And we do see growth. To me, the most growth is at the end of season 3. Throughout season 3, we also don't see Klaus interact with Hope very much. Hope is mostly just with Hayley or out in the bayou, basically unprotected. But at the end, he finally realizes what it means to be a father. He tells Hayley to take Hope and run. He puts Hope above his own desires. This is the most selfless we ever see Klaus. And it does cost him. He misses out on five years of Hope's life.

When he wakes up, he is still in that same headspace (thank you Cami). The family decides to leave New Orleans alone and abandon the fight with Marcel. This is shocking behavior for Klaus. But he wants to raise his daughter in peace. I love the couple of episodes we get here with them. But then the Hollow happens and they have to go back to New Orleans. Where Klaus imprisons his first child, Marcel. I'm sorry, but no matter what Hope did, Klaus would never treat her the way he treated Marcel. Whether it's racist, sexist, or based on him not being blood, you decide.

Klaus is only in Hope's life for about a week until he has to leave because of the Hollow. Again, this is peek Klaus parenting in this one week. But then while he's gone, he goes off the deep end. He claims it is to keep Elijah safe, but in reality, it is because he has nothing tethering him. Once Hope sees him, he completely cuts her off. He never actually learned to be an everyday father. He only knew how to make the big gestures. He doesn't know how to sit down with her and explain or even how to reach out to Hayley and have an adult conversation. He abandons his daughter to the point that she kidnaps her own mother to get his attention. He falls back into his old habits, putting his comfort over his daughter. Because it's easier to ignore her than to face the harsh reality of dealing with the terrible things he's done and trying to be an actual better person for Hope.

We don't see Klaus act as a parent for another 7 years. And this whole season was just a mess. I do understand he can't be close to her. But they have magic and phones, he could have contacted her better. He should have been more involved. If you follow me on tik tok, you already know how ridiculous I think Hayley's death episode was.

Hayley's death would have been the hardest thing Hope has ever gone through. I hate season 5 for making her bounce back so quickly. Hayley was the one constant in Hope's life. I know everyone wants to act like Klaus' death should have impacted her more, but she didn't really know him. He was more of an idea to her than an actual person.

Hope was falling apart for most of season 5, so Klaus gets the bright idea to kill himself less than a week after Hope loses her mother. This is portrayed as the ultimate sacrifice for his daughter, but it was incredibly selfish. Elijah was willing and able to die by himself, but because Klaus didn't want another man to die for his daughter, Hope had to lose both her parents in the span of a week. Not only that, but feel responsible for their deaths. I will be the first to admit, season 5 was just bad writing because the showrunners were ready to move on to Legacies. But it's all we have.

All of the development we see with Klaus is destroyed in season 5. I am hard on Klaus' character because this fandom loves to let him get away with everything. But I do genuinely like aspects of his character. And, as I said, I do love the one week of his relationship with Hope, but it's not enough to overshadow the danger and hurt he put her through. 

[slicedmayonnaise]

Dutch was NOT always bad.

a lot of people overlook the fact of how much pressure dutch was under 24/7. for ~20 years, he had the burden of taking care of those around him and it only got worse as time went on and more and more people joined the gang. whenever something happened, good or bad, everyone looked to him to place blame because he was the one in charge.

i believe the first cracks started after colm killed annabelle. she was his responsibility; therefore, her death was his fault.

he was able to continue on normally until blackwater.

he lost davey, jenny, mac, and sean in blackwater. two dead and two mia and that blame is put on him. it is his fault that those four people are lost. it is his fault that his family is dead and hurting. then, when he gets sean back, he finds out mac is dead.

then arthur gets kidnapped by colm on a set up to discuss peace between the two gangs. arthur is shot and tortured. he's barely conscious when he makes it back to camp. dutch's fault. if only he'd realized. if only he'd taken arthur's absence more seriously. the pain in his voice when arthur tells him colm set them up.

then he loses sean again in rhodes. again, it is his fault sean dies. he is the leader. he is responsible.

then jack is kidnapped.

then kieran is captured and killed, whom dutch still feels responsible for despite the circumstances of how kieran came about. he clearly expresses sympathy for kieran's death.

then, of course, he loses hosea, lenny, and john during the saint denis bank robbery.

hosea's death itself is what finally breaks dutch. during the entire sequence in the bank, dutch does not move or fire his gun. he has to get arthur to blow open the wall because he is in shock. he can't even bring himself to move when he sees john get taken by the pinkertons.

everything went so wrong so quickly over the past few months and everything was dutch's fault.

the deaths of the two people he loved more than anything- annabelle and hosea- were his fault.

even when it's just dutch, bill, micah, arthur, and javier in guarma, dutch can't help javier when he gets shot and taken by the guarma officers.

at this point, he's lost his patience with himself and the world. he can't stand to see another of his boys die because of him. so he goes to immoral lengths to ensure he saves javier (killing that old lady in the cave).

nothing and no one else matters to him but his gang anymore. he has to keep them safe. so when micah gets in his ear about a rat and throws john under the bus to save his own skin, dutch can't help but go along with it in his fragile state because circumstantially, it does make sense. john was the only one who was taken alive at the bank, and his wife somehow managed to get away when hosea was grabbed by the pinkertons.

i don't believe dutch really would have let john hang in sisika. i do believe he had a plan to go for him eventually, but after john's return, he only got more and more antsy. he lost his mind more and more and trusted john and arthur less and less because of all the shit micah was feeding him. arthur did go behind dutch's back, after all.

"i gave you all i had" is the statement that makes dutch realize how much of a damn fool he's been. arthur- his son- laying at his feet and dying, once again, because of HIM. it's his fault that the gang fell apart. it's his fault that arthur is dying. it's his fault that john- his other son- is suffering. he was the one that betrayed the gang, and he recognizes it. he abandons micah on the mountain and breaks down crying over his own failure.

annabelle, davey, jenny, mac, sean, jack, kieran, john, hosea, lenny, molly, susan, arthur. all his fault. everything was his fault.

i doubt dutch stayed with bill and javier after beaver hallow. i believe he left out of shame. shame of what he'd become. shame of what he'd done.

i don't know why or how he ended up working with micah again by 1907, but my best guess has to do with that fact that he has completely lost his mind at this point.

well, not completely, as he does shoot micah for bad-mouthing arthur, and he does let john live.

john. his son. his last son. john misses dutch. dutch misses john. but john is too hurt. and dutch is too ashamed. dutch leaves, and he leaves john with the fortune he and micah had stashed away.

shame. guilt. all his fault.

[jaysbookofnothing]

Acotar rambles

Nesta is the oldest sister and the one who was groomed by her mother to be perfect; she was literally prepared all her childhood to be perfect at everything and to be the wife of another man, never getting a life for herself. Nesta is a mean and passive sister that I'm not going to defend, but I hate when the fandom acts like that's all she is. Nesta has trauma herself, almost being married to a rapist and abuser, watching her sister get kidnapped, getting turned into a fae by force, and getting plunged into the middle of a war she should have had no place in. Her and Cassian are also all types of unstable; yes, I know they are mates, but that doesn't mean that they are good for each other. Cassian, repeatedly, let's talk down to Nesta. He doesn't even defend her; he lets his best friend and self-proclaimed brother threaten to kill his mate. Not only that, but he contributes to her self-doubt and hides the truth of her powers, even forcing her to keep secret the fact that her sister might die. I think she just needs a break from the inner circle, a long relaxing vacation with the Valkyries, and some therapy. (I do still hate her for letting a 14-year-old Feyre go into the woods.) Elain...sweet child Elain, God, you are pathetic. I don't mind the girly, peaceful, silent type of character. In fact, I adore characters like those, but Elain isn't it. What she is is just a sad waste. For example, when her 14-year-old sister was going into the woods to hunt animals for their family, she didn't try to use her gardening skills to maybe plant flowers during the spring. Try to use her flower gardening to sell the flowers, make dyes, or do anything else that would help the family. And then there's her whole thing with Lucian; I absolutely despise it. Even with her "thing" with the shadow MF, what she needs is to go off and live her cottage core life away from those poor men. I feel like Sara can still save her character, but I am just tired of her not doing anything. (I know she did things like kill the king and be a seer and all that, but goddamn, is she so bland?) Feyre, she could have been so much more. I liked her fistyness and determination in the first few books, but god did she tire me out by the end. First of all, she has such an "I'm not like other girls" vibe, and it's generally tiring after a while. Overall, she's a decent character. I just hate her ending, like, Why does she turn into a housewife? You're telling me that Feyre Cursebreaker, the woman who waged war on a Fae empire and won, is now a housewife? Honestly, the main reason I hate her ending is because of Rhys. I could get into such a big rant about Rhys; first off, in the first book, he drugged her and parraded her around in a sexual manner while she could not consent as a way of "protecting her." I don't think I have to explain how messed up that is. Next, he always talks about how much Feyre always has a choice in everything and that she can say no and yada yada, but did he give her a choice when he withheld the fact that she would die if she gave birth to their child? No. Did he maybe think of the side effects of sleeping with Feyre while they were both in their illerion forms, such as having a baby with illeion wings? Nope. Speaking of illerions, you cannot tell me that "the strongest fae lord of all time" can't smack some people with bat wings around enough so they stop abusing, clipping the wings, and raping their women. I guess he isn't as powerful after all. Speaking of women who Rhys let's suffer, your telling me he can't help the girls trapped in the Honestly, Rhys doesn't strike me as a good high lord; he is a patheric excuse for a love interest.

The inner circle God, where do I start? The inner circle is supposed to be this type of family, but honestly, it just feels like a group of bullies. They always talk about how powerful they are, how amazing they are, how their family is, etc., but they don't truly accept Lucian into their ranks, nor does Nesta. Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys are truly nothing more than emo frat boys. Are we going to skip the part in Silver Flames where they talk about how they used to fuck girls in the same room as each other? Yeah...nasty. Their views on women are mildly concerning as well; it seems like they don't care, but they do. Rhys talks about how much he loved his mom, his sister, and how he would do anything for Feyre, yet he didn't tell her about the child that might kill her. Cassian's mate is Nesta, and he "loves" her, yet he lets Rhys threaten to kill her and talk down to her multiple times throughout the series. Azriel, I forget he exists for the most part; he's kind of a wet, sad dog in the corner crying. 

Mor, sweet girl, Mor. I don't know how to feel about her, honestly; good for her for getting out of the court of nightmares, but I'm a bit fishy about what Eris meant by Mor knowing the truth and hiding it.

Speaking of Eris, let's talk about him and Lucian. My two favorite characters (other than Gwen) truly wish nothing more than Lucian to be happy and get a good ending away from the inner circle at the end; he's gone through so much and yet gets treated like a dog. In fact, he still doesn't know that his father is Helion, despite Feyre and Rhys being aware! Eris, I'm really hoping, is going to pull a Rhys and end up being good in the end. I doubt anything that'll make me happy will actually happen, though, so I'll probably just have to stick to headcanons and fanfiction.