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malvoile · 6 months ago

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Me and the Devil ; i

ɪᴛ ʀᴀɪɴꜱ ᴏɴ ᴄᴀʟᴀᴅᴀɴ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʀɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ.

word count: 7k warnings: arranged marriage, politics, graphic scenes of blood, violence, & death of family. trauma, past abuse (harkonnen&feyd rautha warning) not much else. mutual mistrust. notes: hi! tysm to my new followers ily all <3 here's chapter one remastered of this fic [originally posted on @tremendum ] - (inspiration for reader's family is taken from the family of tsar nicholas ii, so if it feels familiar that's why.) feedback very much appreciated :)

prelude series masterlist

Penitent Crimes of Retaliation;

“In accordance with the legal doctrine of the 'Reprisal Accord', as sanctioned by the High Court of the Landsraad, attacked houses are granted the right to retaliate against proven offenses committed against them; This action shall such be labelled as ‘Penitent Crimes of Retaliation.’

Under this mandate, should sufficient evidence be presented, the aggrieved house may initiate a retaliatory strike and is sanctioned to engage in warfare against the offending party. While reparations for damages incurred during the conflict are mandated, perpetrators shall be exempt from criminal sentences ensuring a balanced recourse within the framework of inter-house disputes; as deemed by a jury of the Great Houses Major and Minor at court."

- From the Reprisal Accord, Office of the Padishah Emperor. Imperium, 10041.

There was once a time when green was your favorite color.

You'd enjoyed a childhood of it – Peridot stones glittering upon headdresses, jade figurines, the velveted forest of winter dresses; halls draped with verdant portraits of the faces which came before you, and before you, and before you – all shroud in that forested pride; an ancient thing, to know the ground of the planet and to take life from the same roots as the trees around you.

A life cushioned in the nested hearth of mountainside and jade pools of glacier; and of course the breathstealing height of the sacred Pine. Viridescent flicks of the woven banner of your house, waving in the snow-whipped wind; A snarling green wolf upon grey armor, a hall of decadent verdant heirloom stones.

And in the three months each year when the ice melts off the lower glaciers – the glacial lakes, thawed into that deep emerald green. Your brother, your sisters and you, charging with wild hollers and flailing limbs as tutors and soldiers alike chased after you; scolds and yelps of fear dying on chapped lips as young bodies leapt into the glossy pools, rippling screams through the woods.

In the yawning abyss of childhood, there’s always been that lingering haunt color; When the men of a faraway House Major arrived to retrieve your older sister, she'd been shroud in that very same sacred pine-satin. An elegant dress, you remember quite clearly – draped in gold and jade, haunting the mouth of the ship in her shining emerald headpiece as she turned to wave goodbye for the last time.

A constant source of home, perhaps; and a reminder of the ever-churning yield of abundance the planet gifted your family. Gifts of life, spurting through the ice, growing over centuries within the warm breast of mountain caverns – miners returning to the villages and towns surrounding the castle, hands stained with verdant dust. Green, that gift of life.

Even at your sister's funeral.

A glossy forested casket, laid to rest in the ground of a foreign planet – the wind was sharp against the dark emerald veils of the women of House Bourbon the day you said goodbye to your sister.

Killed by the birth of her first – a son. You became the oldest of your siblings that day.

It was an honor, your parents had told you through tears as the earth swallowed the emerald peeks of casket through handfuls of dirt; an honor to serve your family, to serve the Sisterhood, to serve the Imperium.

Years churn on, as they always do – and somewhere across the Imperium, perhaps a new life has sprouted ,evergreen above the plot where your sister lies in eternal rest. But you can hardly stand to look at green anymore.

No, instead, you mostly see black.

They'd sent you away to make for your house a fortune; a son, they'd wished, for your sake - and, by whispers of your Lady Mother, a daughter – but the nest you made was one of fear and survival; a place crawling with shadows and monsters and deadly smiles.

Your na-Baron.

If Feyd-Rautha ever had a semblance of hesitancy, it was when you first met four years ago. You were at the end of your seventeenth year and he, freshly eighteen – a cordial boy by at least Harkonnen standards; escorting you with an arm held out, eyes malicious and teeth glinting but nonetheless tamed to curved glances and sickeningly sinister grins.

He'd even called you Lady Bourbon those first few months on Giedi Prime.

Perhaps in many ways, you can consider yourself lucky. Even if only for your bloodline, or the power laced through the syllables of the name you come from – or even, Maker forbid, in some way for yourself – Feyd-Rautha has indeed taken special care of you. Perhaps he does care for you – the care a panther reserves for his chosen prey.

Despite his endless vanity, he still has stooped so as to admit he waited too long to claim you as wife; a feat which, in some way, might bring him just a step higher in the chokehold his family holds the Imperium – and you, with tongue as sharp as your mind, know when to push and when to dissolve into those dark shadows he loves so much.

So you’ve let him stew in fury, avoiding eyes and sneaking from column to column; ears pressed to oaken doors with a trembling hand.

The accusations had come from Baron Vladimir; House Bourbon has been stealing the precious refinery codes, committing treason against the trading accords along the Harkonnen-dominated exportation route. And perhaps, he thought, you’ve been the one to plot against your beloved future family.

But Feyd-Rautha knows better – knows you'd never dare betray him for the sake of your life or purely through the denial of access. Feyd was, after all, the one to demand a public execution of your family and, in the same breath, redirect your sentencing to imprisonment. As if you weren't already.

Don't look away. See what we do to scum, my pet?

Hatred flows thicker than blood; and perhaps if you'd had your blade this morning, you would have finally plunged it right into the junction of creamy skin upon his neck, right there in the stands.

You were, in some ways, relieved when their bodies hit the sand fast. You've never seen your brother's skin so reflective as you did this morning; and the black sun, oppressive as it is intense, still could not hide the blood that had seeped from him.

A deafening roar of the crowd still did not muffle the glistening cries of the two girls; the ones no older than seventeen and nineteen, the ones who carry your nose, and your hair, and your laugh, and your blood. The crowd could not muffle the sharp loss of breath as the blades slid slow across the seam of their necks to spill that which you share so intrinsically.

You'd swallowed thickly, twitching to look away, gasp – to cry; but any semblance of pain was concealed under layers of unbudging, seething hatred. There is no space here for anguish; Your na-Baron would love it too much.

Why don't you leave me with them, then? You'd hissed through your teeth.

Though he was wild and psychotic, growling with hunger at the bloodsport in front of him, he heard you for what you'd said. Feyd's fingers pulled your hair hard, forcing your chin up towards his crazed stare. A sickly glint in the black sun, his teeth shone with hunger.

You'd have me throw you to your Wolves, and lose my prize? He'd tutted, kissing your forehead with a sickening sweetness; enough so that the servants had turned away their spider-black gazes. They didn't care much for the acts of affection you'd occasionally show one another – they know just as well as you that in a world marred by ugliness, any glimpse of beauty becomes a hauntingly grotesque show of power.

He'd snarled, a growling rumble through the chanting crowd of spectators screaming kill the Wolves; His breath was hot against your cheek. You're mine to keep – there's plenty of life left for you to serve.

He'd held your hand tight as they slit your father's throat – he was too drugged to put up a fight worthy of retaining his life; after minutes, his blade fell. It was then both of your sisters, swift deaths prolonged only by the wisps of prana-bindu that remained in their muscles’ memories, by the screams that heightened the jeering crowd in bloodthirst. Next came the assassination of your brother; the Tsarevich, the boy whose grasp on his knife shook as he looked up towards your seat helplessly.

Your mother had fought as much as she could in her drugged state – a Weirding Woman, whose flashing arms and darting legs outsmarted the Harkonnen fighters for far longer than what must have been expected. A Ginaz fighter until the end.

You saw it all with nails torn into your palms; the Harkonnens are ruthless, and Feyd-Rautha had sat calmly beside you with a sickly grin.

Your mother met the slow knife’s blade against her throat. It should have finished quickly – but in your horror: The neckline of her gown was too high, and too thickly inlaid with encrusted heirlooms.

Bless their voided souls.

The emeralds that tore from her gown as she'd spilled her blood to the sand sent a ripple of pain out of your throat; and Feyd had buried his face in your neck, teeth sharp and gaze glued to your own ruby blood beading out of your clenched palms, blackened in the sun's light.

If anybody would have bothered to look before burning the bodies, you know they'd find all the family diamonds sewn into the fabric of their clothing. Centuries of your House, melted away.

And Feyd-Rautha had drank up your agony with his lips, smiling as his hand wrapped around your throat.

Now, alone and away from the thick industrial air, your chambers are cold and suffocating.

There are screams coming from the hall – not the kind that you've grown to associate with your na-Baron testing his new blades, but the kind that comes with danger. With change.

As it turns out, you are not Feyd-Rautha's to keep any longer.

A loud noise outside of your quarters jolts you from your bed with shaky legs, whispering to yourself. They're coming for you. The sheets are crisp against your awaiting, tensed body; the blade gifted to you on your nameday three years ago by your husband-to-be grasped in your palm; still tainted with the ghost of your own blood.

Your whispers reverberate in the empty room, a spiny crawl of black moulding curling around your bed and awaiting the coming voices. "I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me–”

Your voice shakes, despite yourself. Air puffs from your lips as your blood rushes - few things remain from your early days of training, before you were sent off to become a Harkonnen; This remains a relic.

A loud clash outside – blades against the failing force of shields.

For a moment, a hand grasps your arm; ghost-white and possessive, it claws at your skin, voice rumbling through your mind. Don't look so sad, my pet.

The door to your chambers begins to slam with an external force; Soon, the soldiers will enter, and you will do what must be done.

The hand squeezes upon your wrist harder – you bite back a cry. I will never let them keep what is mine. I will find you again.

You almost wish he will.

Slow as a predator, you rise from the sheets; a preparation for a fight that will end before it begins. A fight that has already been won.

Even when the hand upon your arm is gone into the shadows, succeeded only by a whispering ghost of bruises clutching your skin, you do not stop the old prayer; in fact, you hardly notice that you're saying it at all.

Even as the doors give in.

"-and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing – only I will remain–”

The soldiers arrive in a burst of splintered doors and smooth movements; the one at the front, flanked by only two others clad in Atreides-tan armor, triggers some faint memory from a lost childhood.

He moves towards you in the sickeningly familiar stride, and it fills you with rage.

Duncan. Why did you wait so long?

It is too late. You lunge, snarling like the wild beast you've become; You fight, because that is the only thing you know how to do. It is the only thing you have left.

Your blade falls within minutes and you're taken by the man from your past not a minute after; you're on a ship, watching the black Opiuchi B disappear in an hour.

“My Lady.”

There is a buzzing downfall of drizzling rain that slides over the umbrella’s spine above you. The air here is thicker, laced in salt and terra; the voice snaps your mind back to the ground. Wind whips the veil draped over your head as you step forward stiffly, arms sore and eyes heavy.

The dress you wear, salvaged from your family's old castle, is dusty and pressed.

It clings to your skin, drowns you, as the rain falls. A staff of House Atreides holds the umbrella above you, shielding the intricate detailing inlaid along the trim of the dress as you walk.

The dress upon your shoulders is as tight a cage as the one you inhabited on Geidi Prime; and though it was an effort of good intentions, the Atreides' insistence of providing you with the necessities for you to perform your Sabberon's traditional customary mourning rituals has left you with a prickled spine and a saturation of spite bleeding into your heart.

Your family may be gone, but the ghosts of their deeds remain with you; a hard goodbye to give when you alone remain to pay for their transgressions. Still, you have found yourself draped with the veil, the dresses, the jewelry; you, alone on a strange planet with the symbols of their crimes, of their betrayals, of their poisoned love. It's what they would have wanted.

It is a death march from the hangar into the covered acceptance hall – banners of Hawks climb high towards the ragged cliffs, whipping and cerulean in the afternoon light. And ahead, stoic and proud, the members of House Atreides await you.

Your hands brush against the dark velvet – a texture you have not felt in years. It is odd, you notice, to catch the light of your skin not wrapped completely in black fabric; It has been many years, too, since you found yourself in green.

It is with a prickled glance that you slow your pace behind Duncan Idaho – the man turns and glances at you when you begin to ascend towards the House members, but you can't bear the look of unfamiliarity that flickers over him when he looks at you now. Your chin remains high, your eyes over the line of cliff climbing towards the sky.

Duncan, after these years, still looks the same – perhaps less tall, but that has more to do with your growth than his own; You, however, are not the same girl he last saw on Sabberon. Your hackles raised, your talons flexed within your palms: A coiling beast of hatred backed into a corner.

There is a coastline far beyond the hangar – and it calls to you quietly; a vast thing, cerulean, cold, and deep. You’d been otherwise occupied when the ship entered atmo to Caladan this afternoon; the sea remains something only within your mind, a figment whispering of golden lips and curling tides in the corners of your dreams.

An urge strikes you as you begin to ascend the stone stairs towards the welcoming party; and subtly, you crane your neck outwards to catch a glimpse of that sea – a crashing call in the distance, the circle of gulls cutting through the clouded rainfall. But there is no ocean within sight; only jagged cliffs which rocket hundreds of feet above or drop off sharp below.

Duncan stops just before you; Your spine straightens once more, vision concealed in hues of pine and evergreen as you take in the retinue standing before you.

Duke Leto Atreides at the center; a man with peppered age, a tall pride and commanding stare – beside him, a woman in a gown of the same deep cerulean – Lady Jessica.

A flood of knowing penetrates you the moment your eyes find hers; through the veil she stares at you, before flicking her sight beyond you, to the Reverend Mother who’d travelled with your retinue as per High Court orders. A voice curls in the back of your mind, stalling your heartbeat for a slow moment. Hello, sister.

Your lips purse as you look to the right, stood tall next to Lady Jessica; a boy intense in stare and proud in ceremonial uniform, eyes already awaiting your gaze with a sharp curiosity. Paul Atreides.

The son to whom you're now destined.

Even from your obstructed vision, there is no hiding such sharply beautiful features – a sculpted visage kissed with a smattering of freckles from the Caladan sun, pale from the weather; a curve of pouted lips, full, furrowed brows – curled dark locks and eyes wide and just as penetrating as his mother's. A properly handsome heir, you allow your heart's skip; But Maker, you realize as he solemnly watches your veil shift in the breeze, those eyes are so green.

And most peculiar – within them, there is no hunger; nor hatred, no inkling of emotion besides a giveaway twitch of curiosity in the dragging gaze over your shrouded form. Some ancient stirring in your chest, a hibernated anger, a desire to bare teeth towards such an unassuming and altruistic stare – though you do no such thing, remaining balanced upon your feet and tense with the coiled hibernation of an awaiting serpent.

There are eyes upon you with each movement of breath from your chest, and it stirs your fear in a way you’ve not felt in a long time.

It was easy to go unseen with the Harkonnens; by nature of arrogance and brashness, they paid no mind to the girl hiding around the shadows, slinking through the halls with a dark stare but blood that still bleeds green. The Atreides are no fools, and you are not one to think so; where Harkonnen honor lacks, Atreides honor flows in abundance. Though still, any such action that might come from a place of intrinsic value sets your teeth to edge.

The Great Houses of the Landsraad have charged you to leave your nest of shadows, and you have done so. You have been shipped to a new world, a new chain to which you will forever be shackled.

You have learned to find the betrayal of emotion that lingers within the stare of men like Feyd-Rautha and Vladimir Harkonnen – the hunger, the greed, the danger; you have learned to sharpen your edges with the blade of their power, and you know now what your place in this galaxy must be.

And yet, Paul Atreides: His stare betrays no emotion but duty; a foreign thing to you in these times, though as you scrutinize the twitch of his brow or the brush of eyelashes against cheek, you find yourself struck wary and off-balance.

He does not have that wolfish hunger in his stare that you’ve come to know – in truth, if not for the boyish pout of his pink lips and his freshly-shaven jaw, you might have dared mistake him for his father; A Duke.

You might have remained in your study of your betrothed if not for the echoing voice of Duke Leto speaking your name. A snap of your gaze towards the man in front of you as he nods warmly, “Welcome.”

It is an effort to bow in return to him, wincing through your stiffened muscles as your headpiece chimes with your movements.

“We are honored to welcome you to Caladan.” It is an exceedingly polite, humane tone with which he addresses you; you, a stranger who has been delivered from the protection (which itself might even be a laughable term) of their sworn enemy.

Though despite the sincerity, you find yourself struck with a stinging embarrassment: There is no honor to your presence, not anymore.

It gives you a moment to gather your expression, however hidden behind the veil it may be – perhaps they can't quite make out your face, but Lady Jessica watches closely. She sees.

You take a sharp breath, swallowing away the lump of emotion in your throat.

“Thank you, Duke Leto.” It is steel which grinds the melodically polite veneer of your voice; and without a hesitation you turn to greet the Lady of the House.

“Lady Jessica, it is a pleasure.”

In response you are offered a smile as warm as the Duke’s voice; there is a flicker of understanding which floats along the line of blue in her irises, and it compels you to continue, “Thank you for welcoming me to your home,” You finish, hoping the steely reflection within your voice does not bleed unto the other ears.

The rain falls quietly overhead, sliding over the high-drawn ceiling of the open acceptance hall. “We understand that these are trying times,” Lady Jessica begins; your legs feel weakened in a moment of shortened breath, though she finishes in a quiet nod. “We are relieved to have you on Caladan.”

The spin of worldchange has caught up with you at the reminder of such trying times – a day and a half’s travel between systems behind you, and yet the deaths of your family meet you still with a fresh sickness of shock each time you close your eyes. Your headdress chimes lightly when you bow your head once more in appreciation of her words.

The welcome feels rather intimate, in this moment – a retinue of four strong flanks behind you: Duncan Idaho, the Reverend Mother, and two Atreides soldiers; and before you stands the Duke and Lady, their Heir, and a party of five men in Atreides uniforms. Your eyes sweep them efficiently – no weapons; a surprising show of trust, knowing who indeed you have just been delivered from the clutches of.

Perhaps they'd thought they'd be taking in some injured little dove; a cooing thing, wings clipped and battered by the ferocious boy who'd gifted her with a knife plunged between her ribs on her eighteenth nameday. A bitter thought.

The scar that lies just below your breast on your right side is not a reminder, but instead fate carved into flesh – it does not ache; it hums with the echoes of pain grown to purpose.

It echoes of the months spent thrown into a pit under the glaring black sun; Not the arena that rang in the end of your family, no – this pit is smaller, with one large seat for the na-Baron himself; one not with a crowd of vicious jeering but with drugged concubines and slaves clutching blades to service his na-Baroness.

A place to watch his pets play.

Your eyes glance to the curved wounds scabbed over your hands – little half moons, skies of pain, etched into the palms of your hands. Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common.

Unfortunately, you endured; a hard lesson, to live with Harkonnens, to be one of them – and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn.

It has been long enough for a bout of thunder to rumble up in the heavens above; you turn to the young man who stands next to Lady Jessica.

Your betrothed watches you in a peculiar tilt of head – subtle, but analytical; a gaze so green you have to look away, nodding slightly as you speak once more. “My Lord,” your heart thuds in your chest uncomfortably, wondering if he, too, will be as displeased as Feyd so often was when you spoke to him; though Paul does not so much as move as he inhales softly, eyes coasting over your jaded silhouette.

“My Lady.” He returns the formality with a voice much softer than expected; your heart is struck with a cool unease, distrust tightening its clutches around your throat.

A silent moment hangs thick between you; it is only then that you see the tense coil of Paul’s shoulders – surely a mirror of your own. Defiance, your mind tells you. Though Duncan Idaho’s voice cuts through your observations quickly. “We have much to discuss.”

Cutting to the chase, as always; you are relieved for the attention to fall off your presence as you let out a short exhale. “Yes–” though the Duke lifts a brow, eyes caught on the lump of gauze which wraps around Duncan’s bicep, concealed by his uniform. “–Idaho, Do you need to see treatment?” He questions the Swordsman.

As Duncan laughs, your shoulders tense; and before you can consider some quieter death, he begins to speak. “No. Harkonnen blades are sharp – but so are Lady Bourbon's nails.”

It is immediate, the prickling of eyes which befall you from all sides, and a heated stare from your betrothed that you steadfastly ignore for the sake of glaring at Duncan. There is a smirk growing on his lips as the Swordsman addresses you. “You fight differently than I remember, Little Bourbon.”

An old nickname, unearthed from the catacombs of the life you once lived in the wintered palace of Sabberon; a nickname so cherished in your youth and so foreign now that it knocks the air from your chest. Resentment curls within you at the warmth upon his tongue.

The shame floods you just as fast as the pride does, and in the aftermath, you stand just as rigid as before, hands clenched into the velvet of your skirt, seething under your veil.

There is no hiding the shock upon the Atreides' countenances; before them stands some monster, some savagery wrapped up in a gown and a pretty smile hidden beneath a veil.

It had been a habit – rabid hounds don't tuck tail when cornered, do they?

Nonetheless, you smile tight behind the veil, trying not to think of the life you've just left – of what cold life lies ahead.

When you respond, your voice is frigid. “It has been a long time, Duncan.” You muse; Paul’s piercing gaze of green penetrates the veil, but you ignore him.

“Threats demand evolution.”

The rain is gone into mist by the next day.

It rolls in fog along the moors outside, taunting an echo of tides far below the castle – in the morning room, forks scrape over blue-plated China. A grandfather clock lives in the corner; the seconds pass in quiet, insistent ticks.

A cleared throat, a swallow of water – air blown across a plane of steeped tea.

Your eyes burn from exhaustion.

To your relief, your arrival last evening held no such time for small talk – you were whisked away by the service staff to make sure your quarters were comfortable; in the minutes you’d been given to yourself, you’d found the clothing of a former life – dresses, tops and trousers of yourself, your sisters and your mother; the dressings salvaged from the Castle on Sabberon in the week leading up to the trial at Harko Arena.

All washed thrice of soot and rubble, hanging in wait of your touch within the wardrobes in the room. A sickening feeling had haunted you the moment you’d slipped your mother’s old ceremonial ferronnière and hair chain; the reflection of your stare in the mirror resembling too close the sharp gaze of her own. And that feeling had lingered in the shadows of your room still as you shut away the diadem of gold and emerald, the gowns, the old trousers your sister would wear to ritual; your eyes, burning along the skyline in the distance as you locked the wardrobe with trembling fingers.

Late in the evening, you'd attended a meeting in a small conference hall.

There, sat across from Paul, Masters of War and Swords and Strategy, a Mentat, and Lady Jessica, the Duke had asked you questions, ensuring you were not harmed – and perhaps more importantly, trying to ensure there was no malicious intent to your presence. It was in your sleepy haze you first detected the twitching motions of Lady Jessica's hands, the flicking gazes of the others as your voice carried to them. A war language, you’d realized quite quick. They think I am lying.

You'd only been there for ten minutes before you were escorted by a handmaid back to your chambers, where you sat without rest through the night.

Truthfully, you're breaking fast this morning with Lady Jessica and Lord Paul out of courtesy; You were up far before the sun had teased the horizon this morning, staring emotionless at the ghost who stood in the corner of your new chambers.

He is not a new visitor; in the hazy world between waking and dreaming, you’re well used to the ghost – how he smirks by the foot of your mattress, whispering with sharp teeth, with sweet memories, with promises of blood and pain. You’d grown used to his presence, and you’d remained upright for most of the night – until something moved in the corner of your vision, and you screamed.

That had woken one of the servants.

She came in with her head tilted down, holding a pitcher of water; you asked her to stay.

Her name is Hestia; close enough in age if not younger, as she must be merely twenty – the silence was hesitant but not wholly unpleasant as she’d sat, wary but willing as you shared the pot of tea brought for you.

It wasn't until she'd brought you breakfast a few minutes later that you realized the staff must have been informed of your ancestral customs before your arrival – she said nothing as you ate silently, staring out towards the coast of rocky cliffs and rolling moors you could just barely make out from your chamber windows. She’d helped silently to smooth your hair under your veil as you’d drawn it in preparation to leave the room; and with a beat of hesitance, you’d almost admitted to her you did not wish to wear it.

Now, you sit quite similarly; hands perched in your lap, tea in front of you untouched as the food on your plate.

Your future husband sits across the table from you – with a motion sluggish and ruminating, he pushes the omelet around on his fork. You find the boyishly restless knee from Paul, one which shakes the table just slightly, jilting your glass full of water.

A polite and quiet conversation follows; some throw off observation of the weather this coming week, how you seem to have brought the sunshine – a comment that makes both you and your betrothed share a sharp glance; heat following the sudden shared connection.

Efforts to bring you into such discussions are met with your polite, quiet words – and after a short time, a woman enters and whispers something to the Lady at the end of the table. Nodding, Lady Jessica takes her leave with a pointed look at Paul, suggesting he might escort you around the castle to settle you in.

Some cold dread licks its way up your spine, though you force yourself to nod – to adapt. “–If you have time, my Lord, I'd appreciate it.”

He seems equally pricked by his mother’s suggestion, though he hides it quite well – a quiet, chivalrous demeanor suits his striking features, and you find your distrust mounting in some self-preserving effort.

Lady Jessica’s leave brings a gust of air through the morning room, and soon you’re met with the scent of forest; a warm soap, sharp with the efforts of Caladan’s bright ocean salt and wooded hills to the west that lingers upon his skin. Your face flushes in the heat of the sudden morning rays, exposed by a gap in the clouds.

It's silent for a few moments as only the two of you remain; Your food untouched, his half-eaten.

The wall behind Paul boasts an intricate geometric wall of wood and empty-space; a fascinating architectural choice which complements the beauty of Caladan’s moors – you find yourself intent on tracing each line laid before you, ignoring the glossy glint of Paul’s hair in foresight. In the silence of youthful discomfort, the quiet feels inescapable – until it isn’t.

“Are you one of them?”

His eyes trace you when you return to his visage. Them?

In a slow realization, it occurs to you that Paul might assume you are just as bald and sickly as each Harkonnen; that perhaps their soil, so poisoned, might have penetrated the evergreen veins that carry your life to each part of you – might have wilted the very things that make you so uniquely yourself.

You shake your head, thankful for the lack of chains upon the crown of your head today; you are not a Harkonnen, and you never will be.

Perhaps that would have been the preferred choice of words, but instead from your lips fall a curt sentence: “I have hair.”

In the morning light, you glance at the skin of your arm; The skin that boasts arm hair, none of the sickly pale skin that knew of no clean air nor healthy sunlight – your skin, glowing with real melanin and health.

It is a brash choice to speak with such frivolity; You'd not dare speak so freely on Geidi Prime – stars, you'd never have spoken this freely at home on Sabberon, either – but there is no home anymore.

And if you've learned one thing in your years since coming of age, it's that the Great and Noble Houses of the Landsraad are crawling with perjurers, fabricators; Paul is likely the same.

If the Atreides boy must be wed to you, you cannot help that; They can dress you, insist on your traditional customs – but you will not go down easy. No matter how cold the home, you can be colder – you are more than the bones which hold you up; crueller than the demons that kept you in their ghostly grip for four years.

Though at your words, Paul’s cheeks flush a peculiar pink – and his lip twitches in a momentary lapse of stoicism. A lost battle, it seems, as you are rewarded with a small, boyish grin flickering over his visage. “No,” he starts again, eyes penetrating your own somehow, even beneath the layers of green that wrap around you. His breath comes in a short exhale, “Not Harkonnen,” His elaboration grows quiet as he continues, “I meant…Bene Gesserit.”

Your stomach chills.

His eyes seem to know the words which whisper around your mind, and a faint sense of memory gnaws at the cage within your head. After only half a moment’s hesitation, you shake your head. “No, my Lord.”

It must be what he expected – he does not so much as blink; though a flicker of knowledge passes over his face and he closes off, eyes flashing.

You are – despite your resolve – coaxed by his expression to continue, “I suppose I was…” Your hand tugs the sleeve of your gown.

“–Or, I was supposed to be.”

Your tone, unemotional; Paul bites back the suspicion that climbs up his throat. He’s no fool; he saw the glances between his mother and you, however short – in those breaths, the buzzing of his mother’s whispers behind shut doors, her eyes quaking and steadfast in the same.

And, of course, the lapping memories of dreams upon a beach of consciousness; a face beneath a shroud, a whisper from golden lips, a pathway dimly lit and forked into the foggy horizon.

He stands when you rise from your seat.

The dress you wear is unlike any he’s seen outside of your culture’s books; a waterfall of emerald that pools and flows – some frozen-limbed weeping willow, kissing the face of a thawing lake. He offers an arm to you, and you loop yourself to him with only a breath of hesitation.

Your voice comes again from those lips so hidden behind the veil of pine. “I was supposed to be a lot of things.”

Your voice is undeniably beautiful; strong, cold, unwilling. Polite, yes – but calculating, aggressive. Coiled in a nest, watching, waiting to strike.

She tells the truth.

His mother had signaled during the council the night before a dissection of your honesty; Yet trust is a fragile thing, and as much as he places faith in Duncan and his father, the thought lingers of distrust.

He saw the claw marks you'd left upon Duncan; a man you've known since you were a young girl. By decree, Paul is now bound to you in marriage; but he has spent endless hours unraveling the Harkonnens — their cunning, their strategy, their thirst for power – and yet, according to Duncan, the Baron and his brutish nephew simply let you go, unscathed and unpursued.

It gnaws at him, such inexplicable mercy from a house that knows no such thing.

Paul’s wariness does not bleed through his posture, as indeed it does not with you: You walk with your chest out, back as straight as a soldier’s; your words are cordial, indifferent.

Halls pass as he murmurs a light overview of the castle’s history, introducing you to Houseworkers as you stop to greet them; he is rather surprised by your indifferent charm that seems to enrapture the workers and scare them all the same; he wonders, then, what this life will be like, when you become the Duchess and he Duke.

A revolt in his heart; one childish and quelled by duty and understanding – and by his father’s words, burnt sharp into his mind.

Duty often requires us to navigate paths we may not have chosen for ourselves, Paul. You may not always like her, but you will treat her with the respect and care befitting of a future wife.

Love may come to you in other ways. But you will marry her, you will respect her, and when the time comes, together you will sire an heir.

Outside the walls, it is quiet – the wind is calmed, the tide drawn by the looming moon in the morning sky; you and Paul share no more than one unintentional glance broken up by wind-warmed cheeks and a softly cleared throat.

It is not until he escorts you along a path that winds down out of your sights that he notices your change in demeanor. Beside him, you take a deep breath, footsteps faltering as you slow – a blink of concern until he follows the direction of your veil towards a clump of moss sprawled across the earth. Curiously, Paul slows to a stop beside you.

For a moment, you stare down at the dirt and fallen tree limbs, the grassy field and rocks; though as if an invisible string pulls you upwards, you snap your head, voice sheepish behind your veil. “Apologies, my Lord.” You start to turn, “I've read of plants like this, but never seen them before in person.”

It is an odd moment in which Paul comes to understand: He knows what Giedi Prime is like, and your homeworld, from what he's read in the books on Sabberon, is mostly Glaciers, forests, and high altitudes.

The notion of you finding interest in Caladan’s flora and fauna is as bizarre as it is endearing – and so instead of moving along, Paul bends to grasp a bit of moss from a fallen trunk.

Your veiled visage tracks him as he returns to his full height; The earthy dirt spreads between his nimble fingers, green and soft against his skin. You watch him silently, curiously.

“It absorbs up to twenty times its dry weight in water,” He explains in an echo of an old ecological lesson, pushing the spongy material with the nail of his thumb. “Banks of it grow just around the brackish tidepools below the castle.”

Your interest, piqued, causes your head to crane slightly from your small height – he can tell, even without seeing any part of your face, that you are fascinated; it brings him a moment of pride.

At his gesture towards the coastline just peeking below, you follow in a slow move of interest, breath coming soft from hidden lips. He watches the side of your silhouette flutter in the breeze. “Am I allowed to see?” You ask stiffly, arms hanging at your sides.

An odd request – one which penetrates any semblance of protectiveness for his homeworld and instead strikes alarm in his chest. What such monsters do you come from that you must ask such foolish questions?

He lets the moss fall back to the stump, brows furrowing. “You are to be Lady Atreides one day.” His voice does not reveal any hint of his resistance to this fact, and for this, he is grateful. “You do not have to ask permission to see your own land.” He finishes, cheeks warm with the insistence of the seabreeze and the alarm which still thuds through his heart.

You have grown quiet – in the rushing blow of wind, you are still as an evergreen.

The wind from the sea whips in misty breaths even this high; inky tresses swirl around his vision and are swept away by his own hand – there are no words from you for several very long breaths, in which you clear your throat.

“I…do not feel well.” Your voice is sudden, thick with some hint of insistence – though your spine does not bend, it does not yield; a small breath as your head cranes up. Paul sees a glint of eyes through the ripple of green. “Please, if you would excuse me.”

It is not below Paul to entertain your fib – for your sake, sure; but rather for the growing weight of bitterness that festers in his chest each time he thinks of what is to come. Paul escorts you to your chambers in a tense silence that echoes only the footfalls and the swishing of velveted fabric.

You slip into your chambers with a polite and half-whispered thanks to his looming frame. Paul watches the fabric of your dress curl around the corner as the door shuts.

Upon his return to his own quarters, Paul catches Hestia; a girl known long before she began working for the House. He requests she bring you some bread and cheese, and send Dr. Yueh to check on you once more.

An insistent tapping grates in his mind as he stalks the corridor towards his rooms; a clock from halls away, ticking away the seconds – hands clench, flex; an itching shiver down his spine as he turns corner towards his chambers. A flicker of green around the corner just across the hall sends his stomach to tense, stilling in a moment of suspicion; hackles raised, Paul blinks away paranoia as a Houseworker trims a houseplant. A hand swipes over his visage, massaging his eyes.

Threats demand evolution.

The memory of your voice pierces his thoughts – and without a second thought, he turns heel and makes towards the training room, fingers itching for a blade.

follow @sandpoet for notifications & updates.

#the more i edit this story #the more i see the leaking traits of house Stark #its so awkward #i would NEVER be in that fandom!#<- me when i lie #paul atreides x you #paul atredies x reader #dune fanfiction #dune 2021 #dune movie #dune part one #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides smut

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tamayakii · 2 years ago

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Their Angel. Yan!HOTD x Reader

I've been having so many thoughts about yandere house of the dragon x reader, how the 3 big houses (Targaryen, Velaryon & Hightower) would fight for the darlings' affection. Platonic, Familial or romantic. I feel like they would, of course, all fight over what colours you would wear, what house you represent until a very annoyed and exhausted council member suggested white.

"like an angel," Viserys adds, it was said that the gods had sent you down to bless them so dressing you in white seemed the best option... but that didn't stop them from gifting you jewellery that had the colours of their house.

The Hightower jewellery had the most expensive Jade and Emerald on top of gold, these pieces can range from delicate rings to big statement necklaces that encompass your neck. Alicent prefers to give you these gifts in person, alone, perhaps in her or your chambers. Presenting you with the beautifully engraved box as she opens it, showing you a new necklace with a beautiful dark green emerald. Otto's gifts never cease to awe you in how quiet that man is in his actions, a small indiscreet box upon your pillow when you ready for bed. Inside lays a note, upon which Otto describes the moment he found this beautiful ring and knew he must get it for you, the handwriting almost as beautiful as the peridot ring you now proudly wear on your pinkie.

The Targaryen jewellery is almost always extravagant, having connections to get you the best out of everything. Viserys gifts you capes, crowns and veils but unlike the others, he almost always keeps them in white, unless they have jewels. His favourite thing to see you in is crown veils, the jewellery hanging down and framing your face makes you seem like you stepped down from heaven's gate. When Aemma was still around, she gifted you rings and earrings, she wasn't able to give you much before she passed in childbirth. So you hold these gifts quite dearly to your heart, always sporting the dark ruby red ring on your thumb, twisting it when you get nervous. Rhaenrya, oh dear Rhaenrya, she wanted everyone to know that you belong to the Targaryens. To the Blood of The Dragons, her first gift to you was a cloak clasp that show two dragons on each side, her second gift was a crystal bracelet that had a chain connecting to a ring, it was a simple design but by the gods it made you feel exquisite. There was one gift that set the nail in the coffin, it was a gift from Rhaenrya and Aemma, a dragon that wrapped around your neck. Signifying the hold that House Targaryen has on you.

The Velaryon jewellery is often pearls or other sea gemstones as they sit on driftmark and have a hand over the trading routes, Rhaenys upon her second meeting of you, gifting you a pearl ring slipping upon your finger herself. Corlys gifted you a relic that was been with the Veleryons for ages on your first birthday with them, the beautiful necklace made with blue topaz, moonstones and blue chalcedony, wrapped beautifully with Valeryon silver. Vaemond... never was quite as fond as you as his brother and sister-in-law were, you were no Targaryen or Velaryon but for small moments he forgot that and adored your sweet smile.

I would love to draw male and female outfits of what this au's darling would look like, i can also do a part two of the other things the other characters would give you as i excluded a lot as to not make this any longer than it is. Should i make a fic with this idea? pls send me an ask if you're interested in this au

#yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #yandere hotd #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere targaryen #yandere velaryon #yandere hightower #yandere hotd x reader #otto hightower x reader #alicent hightower x reader #Aemma Targaryen x reader #Viserys targaryen x reader #Rhaenrya Targaryen x reader #Corlys Velaryon x reader #Rhaenys velaryon x reader #vaemond velaryon x reader

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saffronshades · 5 months ago

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Alakazam!

Reblog game

Favorite psychic type I'll start

Espeon

#pkmn irl #[ ❥ ] there's no time like the present .#peridot-the-photographer

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 1 year ago

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The Cluster is saved, Why Jasper isn't bubbled like Peridot and Lapis? Did Garnet saw a future vision of Jasper being redeemed?

Active reading and a bit of extrapolation can lead some readers to the conclusion that, since Garnet and Rose haven't intervened, presumably they are fine with Steven's interest in keeping her unpoofed. Given the information presented in previous episodes, we know the CGs are aware he can stop her from doing anything dangerous. Therefore, the logical conclusion is "since Jasper can be controlled out of any direct harm, and since Steven wants to try to 'understand' her, the gems are agreeing with his methods for the time being".

Beyond that... read and find out!

#white diamond au #chekhov answers

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love-takes-work · 7 months ago

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Streamily.com Presents: The Steven Universe Cast Reunion Q&A Part 2

Here’s a complete overview of the Q&A that was put on by Streamily, hosted by Elijah (“Not-So-Average Fangirl”), featuring Rebecca Sugar as the showrunner/creator, Sarah Stiles as Spinel, Deedee Magno Hall as Pearl, AJ Michalka as Stevonnie, Shelby Rabara as Peridot, Grace Rolek as Connie, Jennifer Paz as Lapis Lazuli, Kimberly Brooks as Jasper, and Erica Luttrell as Sapphire/Padparadscha. Read below to see various insights and opinions, and lots of hilarious commentary from the cast about the experience of voicing characters on Steven Universe.

Everyone opened with intros. Elijah ("Not-So-Average Fangirl") is the mod.

Rebecca said they created and ran the show for 8 years.

Sarah Stiles says she played Spinel!

Deedee Magno Hall says she played Pearl.

AJ Michalka says she played Stevonnie.

Shelby Rabara says she played Peridot.

Grace Rolek says she played Connie.

Jennifer Paz says she played Lapis Lazuli, Malachite, and Bob.

Kimberly Brooks says she played Jasper.

Erica Luttrell says she played Sapphire and Padparadscha.

Elijah says the questions are largely taken from the audience.

Q (for Rebecca Sugar): If you could be a Gem that WASN'T in the show, what Gem would you be and what abilities would you have?

A (Rebecca): Says they put so many Gems in the show. They used to go to gemhut.com to pick new ones. There were so many Gems inserted that were an aspect of Rebecca. They like Titanium--you get to be all the colors! And they always liked writing for the Quartzes--the soldiers who had epiphanies to not fight and settle down. They think they'd be a Titanium Quartz.

Q (for Shelby Rabara from Greenie_507): How was voicing Peridot different from any other character she ever played?

A (Shelby): Peridot is her favorite, hands down. She had a lot of emotional range--it was interesting to start her off as stoic and militant and then go through the transformation of losing her limb enhancers and becoming cute. Playing Peridot was such a great opportunity to embody an awesome character who evolves, and says what she's thinking without worrying about repercussions. Such a huge arc for this character!

Q (for Jennifer Paz from BrookesNook087): Which parts of Lapis did she find easy to connect with and which, if any, did she find difficut when voicing her?

A (Jennifer): She's so happy to be here and reconnect. Lapis has range too--when you meet Lapis it's intense, and she came in with such back story--Jennifer wasn't sure if she was even a good guy or a bad guy. She related to her so many ways--she was going through her "second puberty" (aka perimenopause) so she represents rediscovering yourself after dealing with trauma--she didn't even realize until after watching it that this character was reentering the world. She was a new mom and trying for her next kid and immediately going through perimenopause--it all led to this brain fog that she didn't even realize how much story was packed into Lapis's character.

Q (for Kimberly Brooks from Marco_Syrup): What was her favorite moment/part of voice acting for Jasper?

A (Kimberly): There are a lot of favorite moments. The surprise where Rebecca was going with the character; at first Jasper was a straight-up bully, but then she got an arc. Kimberly loves working with everybody and loves being part of the show. When she mentions Steven Universe, that's the show she's worked on that gets the most response. For her, the favorite aspect is the impact the show had on young people--gender identity, things in the ether. She loved being part of a timely, cool movement that a lot of people were affected by. She felt special being a part of it. Jasper is just a fun character to voice and she had fun.

Q (for Grace Rolek from Sammie47): What was it like growing up with her character? Were there ever any similiarities betweeen her real life and Connie's?

A (Grace): Yes! She loves this question and she REALLY feels like she grew up with the character. She started working on the show at 15 and now she's 27. She was in high school, really figuring out who she was, and in a lot of ways the character growth of Connie did mirror hers. She wasn't a shy kid but she was a bookworm and was homeschooled. Connie's journey of finding herself, her voice, her confidence, mirrored her own. This was very special for Grace to see her become a badass sword-fighting character. It was amazing to have that outlet and this space to explore growing up in her acting. She can look back as a full-blown adult and see how it mirrored her journey. She did once try fencing at the Renaissance Faire but decided that's more Connie's thing.

Q (for Sarah Stiles from somestarlight22): What part of the movie was the most challenging to record?

A (Sarah): She couldn't go for more than 45 minutes because she'd lose her voice. It was also the most thrilling voice work by FAR that she's ever done. Emotionally it was one of the great gifts of her life. She jumped into the world that had already existed and she'd had no idea her character was so important to the movie when she first got the role. She thought it was such a beautiful world. Spinel is very close to home sometimes, unfortunately. Her niece has a Spinel costume.

Q (for AJ Michalka): If you could fuse with any character you've ever played or voiced, who would you pick and why?

A (AJ): Steven Universe was the first cartoon she'd ever worked on, and then not long after it was She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. She LOVES playing Stevonnie and Catra. Something about merging Stevonnie and Catra would be some badass complication would be amazing. There should be fanart. The name would be what? Stevonatra? Catronnie? Deedee thinks then that character would have to sing Cookie Cat.

Q (for Erica Luttrell from FluffyBee_93): Would you want Sapphire's future vision abilities? Why or why not?

A (Erica): No, no, nope. We don't know much about the mysteries of existence, and she doesn't even like to go to a psychic because the answers would worm their way into her psyche and she'd always think it would be bad. She would want to intervene. It's funny because Estelle was on the previous day and she very much DID want all the answers.

A (Rebecca): In the writers' room this was discussed a lot because they'd determined Sapphire's future vision was entirely passive and fixed on one future where she does not act. Ruby's so impulsive that she fractures potential futures. When they combine in Garnet, they see multiple futures, so these answers make sense to them. At the bachelorx party before Rebecca married Ian, they had a psychic, and their brother Steven said "this is bad."

Q (for Deedee Magno Hall from ennedept): "Volleyball" is one of the questioner's favorite episodes. How did Deedee like voicing four characters in one episode?

A (Deedee): She can't remember doing all four in one episode. (Elijah suggests there's a Fusion of four Pearls. Rebecca corrects saying the Fusion in that episode is Crystal Gem Pearl and Volleyball.) Deedee says it's difficult to do multiple Pearls--she'll need a previous recording played to voice match, and she prefers to do one character at a time all the way through. She considers it a good fun challenge. She relies on Rebecca.

A (Rebecca): They gave the direction that Blue Pearl is mousy and Yellow Pearl is more like an old-timey secretary.

A (Deedee): Deedee remembers being told that the sound to shoot for is more like Betty Boop or Marilyn Monroe. It was very helpful to have that direction when creating the voices.

Q (for all): Which scene had them the most emotional while voicing or writing it?

A (Rebecca): The song "Change Your Mind" was a personal song that wasn't supposed to be for the show. It was written at a difficult time when Rebecca was facing pushback on the show and trying to stand their ground. It was an emotional choice to include it in the show.

A (Sarah): Her audition for the movie involved singing "Drift Away." She remembers being on her bed in her apartment singing it into her phone and couldn't stop crying. Recording the song live was also really emotional. It's burned in her mind. In a good way.

A (Deedee): When she recorded "It's Over, Isn't It" because she was also doing Tommy the musical, and her voice was raw after doing that musical. She had to reschedule the recording to sing the song properly. When she did manage to go to the studio to record it, she was still doing the show, but she wasn't on during the week. She was so worried about the vocal performance that she wasn't as invested as much as she wanted to be. All the times she was able to sing that song again, it was far more emotional afterwards. She loved that it spoke to so many fans. There were so many other songs that she doesn't sing in the show that take her to an emotional place too. She loves "Love Like You." It's her all-time favorite. She loves the way Rebecca sang it.

[Pausing the question to ask Rebecca a question before they have to go]

Q (for Rebecca from DominoMuffin): What happened to Cactus Steven after running off?

A (Rebecca): The Crew talked about this. In a way, it foreshadows the end of Future, which is a character who's been through a lot and then has to go live their life and be free. Their goal was to call forward to the adventure Steven would be having. Cactus Steven is living life and figuring it out.

Anything to say from Rebecca before leaving?

A (Rebecca): They're so excited to see everyone, they miss everyone, and they're on TikTok @rebeccasugar. Just playing little covers of the songs and they have the EP Spiral Bound out. They can't thank the other participants enough for helping to encourage them to record personal music.

[Back to the "All" question about the most emotional recording moments.]

A (AJ): The introduction of Stevonnie in "Alone Together" and realizing they were a Fusion and an experience, and not really knowing what it would be like. That part really got her--she likes to tell people they're an experience now, that they're a moment in time. It made her tear up when she recorded it. And then recording "Here Comes a Thought" with Estelle was super special. The lyrics are deep and touched many people. She loved singing with Estelle after only really having duet experiences with her sister.

A (Shelby): Many emotional moments happened in the recording booth--crying and laughing, all of it. Her most emotional moment was in the "In Dreams" recording with Zach Callison. It felt a bit like a goodbye message to the Crew, too--that they want to be connected even if they have to leave and live far away. Zach is so talented and gave so much--they even held hands during the recording. She really felt like she was on the edge with Zach, that she could feel everything that happened. Such a cool moment as an artist. She feels fortunate to be connected to all the other actors through this beautiful piece of art.

A (Jennifer): She agrees with Shelby. Jennifer didn't feel like she got to record that much. She remembers being emotional during Lapis's opening scene of saying to the Crystal Gems, "You three knew I was in there and you didn't do anything." She remembers she was shaking when she recorded the scene. It was so heavy for a cartoon, and she hadn't known it would be like that since she hadn't really done too many cartoons. Rebecca told her she's playing someone who was trapped and she didn't know much else--she was alone in the booth and didn't know what was going on. Later when she saw the episode she was blown away. She also remembers an emotional recording when Lapis stands up to Jasper in "Alone at Sea." What she was tackling, with Lapis taking her agency, her power back, from being in this toxic situation--this is a lot for an eleven-minute piece of art. That in particular, she was emotional in the booth. It was a powerful message to those getting out of a horrible situation. She would meet fans from cons and they would share personal stories of getting out of their own horrible situations and reference that episode. Jennifer feels fortunate to have been part of a show that gives such great life lessons.

A (Erica): Erica can't find the episode name (it was "The Question"), but her emotional moment was when Ruby and Sapphire were separated and Ruby came back from being a cowboy. She knows how it is to be separated from a person who feels like a part of you. She connects easily with others and she hates when someone ends a connection.

A (Kimberly): She wishes she had a better memory. She has the same issue as Erica. She remembers also feeling like she's stepping into an existing world that she hadn't heard of when her character arrived. Her character was the abuser and the bully, and she didn't realize what the impact was. All of her scenes were emotional--with anger--but pain is always underneath it. She felt like EVERY scene she recorded was emotional--what is making Jasper so angry? what is missing from her life? Such a heavy character to represent. Once she had to record as a public service announcement about bullying and she thought it was so relevant.

A (Grace): Grace also tried to Google an episode name and it might have crashed her Wi-Fi. The episode was "Full Disclosure," where Steven is pushing Connie away. (Though she recognizes Connie also pushes Steven away elsewhere in the show.) She got choked up recording the episode--she knows the feeling of trying to be there for someone and they're pushing you away is familiar to her. At that age your friendships and relationships are so dramatic. There's also when Connie confronts her mom in "Nightmare Hospital" when she tells her mother she hadn't even noticed that her glasses don't have lenses. She kenw that feeling of growing up and not being a little girl anymore. She thought something similar to the others about how her concept of working on a cartoon was more like "We're going to go on adventures and fight bad guys!" and then before you know it you're crying in the recording booth and exploring your past.

Elijah the host says other messages from children's media (Rainbow Fish, The Giving Tree) taught people to give all of themselves away and encourage toxic relationships, but this show stood against that.

Q (for Shelby Rabara from Mylesjude2): In Little Homeschool, Peridot teaches gardening to students. What are her favorite plants to grow and why?

A (Shelby): Peridot loves growing pumpkins and she doesn't have to build anything for gourds to grow. She's a big bean fan and she likes to pick the pods off. How can there even be food scarcity? It's just logical!

Q (for Jennifer Paz from Kai): What element other than water would she like Lapis to manipulate and why?

A (Jennifer): She thinks she would love to be able to read minds. That's not really an element but wouldn't that be cool? She can tell sometimes when people aren't saying everything they mean and she'd like to be able to root it out. Maybe Lapis could be a therapist, taking what she learned evolving through trauma.

Q (for Kimberly Brooks from TheMaskedTaco): What does she think Jasper is doing now? Does she do anything in Little Homeworld?

A (Kimberly): She needs help with that answer. Did she learn any lessons? Did she move forward? Kimberly isn't sure. She needs some serious therapy. Let's just say she's getting some self help and is doing better, taking responsibility for her actions. That's what Kimberly wants to believe.

Elijah says they should take Jasper to a rage room and can break something every time she reveals something about herself. What if Lapis and Jasper went into business together to run a rage room? Maybe have a crying room? Include Peridot and make morps in the barn? Someone should draw that too. Deedee wants to know if someone can come to the rage room to clean and organize things too. Perhaps do laundry. It could be very therapeutic.

Q (for Grace Rolek from WhatIsJuan): What does she think Steven and Connie are up to now that the show is ended?

A (Grace): Connie's off to college and Steven visits. She remembers she went off to college at 18 and Zach visited her. It'd be similar adventures. And they'd probably get up to adventures as Stevonnie.

Q (for Sarah Stiles from Flowerz4Daises): What is Spinel up to since the movie?

A (Sarah): She's learned Cirque du Soleil tricks. Trapeze, skateboarding, hip-hop classes, cooking, baking; she's got endless energy and ideas, so she's doing a LOT of stuff. She'd have such chaotic colors and flavors! Maybe combine baking AND a circus! And hole up in the barn.

Q (for AJ Michalka from G70_Heart): What was the process like when voicing the conversations between Steven and Connie while they were Stevonnie?

A (AJ): It was tricky. There are things Grace does that AJ would pick up on, and then with Zach she'd think of the Steven laugh and mannerisms. Stevonnie is a whole person and she wanted to subtly reference aspects of how their components talked without it seeming like she's playing two people.

Q (for Erica Luttrell from Nachet): Was it fun playing two different kinds of Sapphire and was it hard to go from Sapphire to Padparadscha? (Everyone jokes about not being able to pronounce Padparadscha.)

A (Erica): It was not difficult at all because the two characters were in completely separate episodes. It was fun, especially since Padparadscha is SO different and cute. Sapphire is regal. She relates to the deep thinking Sapphire does and sometimes her wife doesn't want to listen to it.

Q (for Deedee Magno Hall from Bella): If Pearl could say one thing to Rose about how Steven turned out, what does she think she'd say?

A (Deedee): Rose would be so proud of him. That would be it. And he is loved.

Elijah's mom calls in from off camera to say they're all having too much fun. It's funny since they're just talking about moms. Erica says her nine-month-old just took a couple steps for the first time during the recording.

Q (for all from pulpypal953): Which Gem character's power would you want in real life?

A (Sarah): She would want to be big and strong. Like Jasper.

A (Deedee): As a mom, she would want the healing power.

A (AJ): She'd want to manipulate water like Lapis. She'd love to be able to save people from tsunamis.

A (Shelby): She wants future vision so she could prepare.

A (Jennifer): She remembers Steven healing Lapis with his spit. She wants to heal with spit.

A (Erica): She's giving it serious thought. She'd want to be strong like Jasper but also impervious, and she wants to be able to jump back a second or two in time to fix misses. She wants to shield those she loves and those who need it.

A (Kimberly): Invisibility. She's kind of a voyeur. Elijah thinks she could have Amethyst's shapeshifting power and become a small animal.

A (Grace): Shapeshifting. She'd love to be able to cause chaos.

Q (for all from HaoTamaLove): What animal does your character remind you of and why?

A (Sarah--Spinel): Maybe a little puppylike or bunnylike.

A (Deedee--Pearl): Bird. She adopted the loving term "Bird Mom." Maybe like a flamingo, but a flamingo beak isn't pointy. Kimberly thinks like a crane? A fusion of a flamingo and a crane. A cramingo! (Artists? A new prompt.)

A (AJ--Stevonnie): A Lion because of their mane. They're sturdy and reliable.

A (Shelby--Peridot): A squirrel. She'll do anything to get what she wants. (Artists??)

A (Jennifer--Lapis): Maybe Lapis's alter ego, Bob--Bob would be a regal cat. The cat would cause trouble. Lapis had dry one-liners.

A (Erica--Sapphire&Padparadscha): Padparadscha would be a "slemur." A sloth lemur. A hyper-aware but slow creature. Sapphire would be an antelope, but in the arctic.

A (Kimberly--Jasper): The African Bush Elephant, which is the strongest animal in the world. Then also maybe the Muskox.

A (Grace--Connie): A companion animal that's really smart, like an Australian Shepherd.

Q (for all): Share socials, other projects, and outros!

A (Sarah): She's on Instagram and she's in the first season of Hazbin Hotel, plus some hush-hush stuff.

A (Deedee): She's on Instagram and is voicing occasionally on Kiff. Thank you to Streamily.

A (AJ): She's on Instagram and is releasing a new album with her sister (Aly & AJ).

A (Shelby): She's on Instagram, and she just released a kids' book with her husband called Martee Dares to Dance. She directed her first short for a film festival and directing a music video. Also "mommin' so hard."

A (Jennifer): She is working on some secret projects. She did some voiceover on a game. She's developing a musical with her husband called Proud Marys. She's writing and producing things she can't talk about, but hopefully soon!

A (Erica): She's on Instagram and the bird site that shall remain nameless. She can't talk about her current projects. Things she's apeared on before will be involved.

A (Kimberly): She's on Instagram and can't talk about upcoming stuff and doesn't quite know the process for some of them. She's in a new thing: she is in Arcane as Sky. And she's done some work on The Simpsons and South Park.

A (Grace): She's on Instagram and worked on Clone Drone in the Hyperdome as Kata, and she plays bass in a band called Starling.

That's it! You can get signed prints at Streamily!

#steven universe #rebecca sugar #sarah stiles #deedee magno hall #aj michalka #shelby rabara #grace rolek #jennifer paz #kimberly brooks #erica luttrell #streamily #long post #myblog

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hiveswap · 10 days ago

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Assorted steven universe events in my childhood:

-that time i learned the concept of singular they/them pronouns through Stevonnie, and asked my english teacher about it in class, to which she told me off for changing the subject and didn't expalin anything

-when my parents and I were trying to decide what secondary school to send me to, we went to one that had an art program to listen go theor presentation. We sat down at a random table and it had Lars drawn on it in a perfect canon artsyle

-during an english launguage competition organised by the secondary school i'd later attend, we had to make a presentation about a fictional character we like. I did Peridot. And I did so well on it that the teacher who judged it remembered it all the way until i graduated from there too :)

-speaking of, i attended a hungarian grammar group competition for several years in a row too. Every time we'd get some kind of fruit during the event itself. I drew Peridot on mine every time for three years (two bananas and an orange) and i think we nearly won on two of those occasions.

-that time my father, who runs a business printing tshirts, making merch, martial arts supplies, ect. Offered to print me something i like on a keychain. I've been carrying around my keychain of Steven's shield ever since

-i started my chrystal collection in part because of this cartoon & it's still getting new pieces every now and then

#I also discovered the fact that my hair is curly sometime during my su obsession #It was a huge ego boost bc i looked a bit like rose :) it was kind of ugly and frizzy back then in hindsight but it was a work in progress

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kass-peridot · 10 days ago

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NOW THAT I'M DONE BEING IN DISBELIEF OVER THE FACT THAT AN SU SPINOFF WAS CONFIRMED, I wanna talk about my wonders and hopes and theories for this show.

Im wondering if there's going to be any animation changes in Lars of the Stars. And if there is going to be one, is it just going to be a subtle upgrade or more dramatic changes? I'd be fine with most things but I'm just wondering if there would be any.

Side note, Idk if I pointed this out in my last post but ADORE the logo. Lars would 100% be the kinda guy to use spray paint as protests to stuff and they are definitely gonna be protesting authorities so I think the pink spray-painted star is really really cool. I also LOVE the skull in the "of" as a nod to the skull gauges that Steven brought Lars in the Lars of the stars episode. the font is also very much giving star Wars vibes which I feel is fitting. It also makes me feel like (this is just a silly theory) they might lean into more of a darker tone throughout everything? I know that SU was already pretty dark sometimes but it feels like this is gonna be more mature, like for older more teenager audiences, especially since they know that the fan base of Steven Universe has grown a lot.

With that said, I really hope they have Lars begin to grapple with and be thrown into the true realization that he is going to live a lot longer than his family and (most of his) friends. Humans aren't built to be able to withstand immortality mentally like gems are, mostly because gems aren't often friends with organics that live shorter lives. I hope they put Lars through a kind of depressive arc for him to really carry the weight of that.

I also hope we see Steven in the show, but at the same time I hope he's not a major character at all, because he should be done with dealing with gem stuff.

I really hope we see more of the OG main gems. I hope that Lars needs their help at some point for whatever reason and forms some kind of bond with some of the crystal gems. I also NEEDD to see Lars and Peridot meet each other.

Considering the description of the show stated that we would be going into the past, present, and future of Steven Universe, I hope that they tackle a lot more backstory for the diamonds, maybe even their origin since that's what a lot of people have been asking about.

I hope we get to see Connie fight with Lars at least once. I hope we get to see Connie in general

I NEEEED RHODONITES BACKSTORY BROBRO

I also wanna know more about the gems that make up fluorite.

I hope we meet a character named Citrine.

I hope we learn a bit more about Lars relationship with his parents and I hope we get to see him and Sadie hanging out once or twice at least

I hope we see Shep at least one more time, they were pretty cool

I will likely post more of this stuff when I think of more. also I wanna hear other people's theories and hopes

#steven universe spinoff #steven universe #lars of the stars #lars barriga #animation #2d animation #tv show animation

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jenjoiii · 3 months ago

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I see today is a good day to drop more my another character design from Epic The Musical (I already did but on YouTube post)

Penelope!!!!!!!!! 💙💙💙

My beloved. You can see her from The Horse And The Infant animatic. Below is my insight, the same when I did with Diomedes post.

Here's the thought! For Penelope, I give her midnight blue color and play around with silver and gold since she is presented as high status, smart, calm and strong mind woman, and she can be mysterious too with her tricks. Her overall shape is square like a pillar, as she was the ruler of the Ithaca house when Odysseus was at war.

Why Penelope has such a long hair after 20 years? No one ask but I'll just yap anyways-

From my research and knowledge, at that time when someone you love died, you tend to cut a lock of your hair and buried it with the dead. It happened in some literature and plays like The Iliad or Electra play. She start keeping the hair long about 3-5 years before Odysseus come back, when the suitor start to put on the pressure. So this shows Penelope’s stand in political and mental that Her husband is alive and the funeral will not be held. She also have her hair well braided because she’s still married

If you look closely, the gem on her ring is olive’s color. Probably like golden pearl or mali garnet or peridot gemstone. It links with the wedding bed :))

#jenjoiii art #epic the musical #my design #epic the musical penelope #penelope

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clean-casual-analysis · 1 year ago

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When the villain is a philosophy

When you think of the word antagonist, the first thing that comes to mind is a villain. This is completely natural, given that stories of good vs evil tend to follow a heroic protagonist fighting against an evil antagonist. But once you get into the definition of the word, a person who actively opposes or is hostile to someone or something, moral alignment doesn’t dictate whether a character should be a protagonist or an antagonist. The most recognizable examples of this would be the likes of Invader Zim and Megamind, characters that are villainous in nature but are still the protagonists of their respective stories.

But villain protagonists and hero antagonists aren’t what I’m talking about here. I’m talking about the antagonists that aren’t entirely focused on, at least in the traditional sense. Antagonists that, despite being the source of conflict in the narrative, don’t actually show up a lot of the time. These antagonists, while characters in their own right, are more symbolic in nature. The protagonists of these stories aren’t just trying to defeat the antagonists, but the rotten philosophies that these antagonists have. The beliefs that push the antagonists to do their villainous acts.

White Diamond: Uniformity and the Status Quo

In the entirety of the original Steven Universe series, not counting the movie or SU Future, White Diamond appears in three episodes out of one hundred and sixty episodes. (Two if we don’t count White Pearl/Volleyball) That’s not even one percent of the series. In most series involving a good vs evil plot line, we usually switch perspectives between our heroes and villains to understand how they’re reacting to the events of the story. But SU is entirely told from Steven’s perspective. The audience only gets new information about gems, homeworld, Rose Quartz, etcetera, when Steven himself learns it. Because of this perspective, we don’t see the final antagonist of the series until the very end of the show.

But even though White Diamond is not present throughout the majority of the show, her homeworld subordinates and beliefs fill in the place of the hurdles that the protagonists must pass. Think about what the show is about and what lessons it teaches. Relationships are intricate and need mutual respect, being proud of who and what you are, and (most importantly) societal roles do not define you. The development of the main characters each involve acceptance of the self and bucking of what’s expected of them. Pearl fully moving on from Rose, Garnet improving her self-love, Amethyst fully accepting herself for what she is, Peridot’s disillusionment with Homeworld and growing appreciation for earth, Connie disobeying her mother’s strict rules, Steven slowly becoming someone better than even his own mother, I could go on. It’s honestly surprising, looking back, how most of the characters’ core issues stem from the lack of self-assurance and how homeworld views their flaws.

White Diamond and her Homeworld regime ultimately represent how systems put limits and stigma onto people for the sake of uniformity. The consequence of living inside your own head. A fusion cannot happen between two different gems, Pearls must be servants, Quartz gems must be big and strong, and Diamonds must be the perfect leaders. Why? Because that’s just what gems do. Because that’s how the system works. Homeworld’s status quo is one of creating an ever-expanding empire at the cost of independence, self-expression, unique lifeforms, and healthy relationships. The system can’t be wrong, White Diamond can’t be flawed, it’s how things have always been so why change what isn’t broken.

Sauron: Dominance and Corruption

While he has more screen presence and is a much more a significant part of the story of Lord of the Rings than White Diamond is to SU, the dark lord Sauron is similarly one small part of a larger tale. Heck, he doesn’t even have dialogue in the book trilogy. Also, like White Diamond, Sauron is best represented by his many underlings. Ruthless orcs with crude but effective weaponry, colossal beasts to crush his enemies underfoot, massive armies dedicated to the dark lord’s cause of dominating all life in Midde Earth. But what’s most notable about Sauron isn’t the great power he possesses or the armies he commands, it’s the way he corrupts and deceives those that stand against him.

The betrayal of Saruman the White, the nine Nazgûl once being great kings of men who were turned into terrible ringwraiths, and most notoriously, the enticing power of the one ring. Boromir, believing that Gondor can use this evil weapon for good. Smeagol, utterly degraded into a deceitful cave dwelling throttler named Gollum. Frodo, forced to carry a heavy burden that weighs him down both physically and mentally. To Sauron, the corruption of good is a weapon he wields with unmatched lethality.

The insidious nature of his villainy is what makes Sauron the great representative of dominance and corruption that he is. The promises of more enticing good people to do evil for the “right” reasons and the ruthless conquest for dominion over all is all too real an evil to ignore.

The Martians: Colonialism and Warfare

I debated with myself on whether or not the martians from War of the Worlds should be included here. Unlike Sauron or White Diamond, the martians are clear and present throughout the story. On the other hand, there isn’t a named martian general or a big bad that’s shown to lead the alien invaders into combat. In the end, the fact that the martians are made to purely represent the darkest parts of humanity outweighs the secondary theme of this essay.

One of, if not THE first alien invasion story, War of the Worlds messaging is clear and easy to understand. The tentacled beings from Mars are coldly intelligent, remorseless, and regard our world with envious eyes. They use human blood as sustenance when they aren’t vaporizing us by the hundreds, their tripods are horrific machines of mass destruction, and their invasion is one of slaughter and destruction. But the book is quick to remind us that humanity isn’t so morally innocent compared to the martians. The consumption of our blood seems horrific, but humans have also killed animals and each other for food and resources. Their tripods are colossal and terrifying, but humanity has made countless destructive war machines. The invaders are dead set on wiping out humanity, but humanity not only brought extinction to animals like the dodo bird but to entire groups of our own kind. The martians are not simply an alien invasion to fight back against, it’s a cautious look into our worst future. A humanity that prioritizes ruthless colonization and military might is a humanity doomed to be parasitic and heartless.

War of the Worlds also takes a critical view towards solving problems through warfare. Violence is sometimes needed to fight evil, but that does make violence a good thing. The action and battles in War of the Worlds are not thrilling or glorious, they are horrific and even bumbling to an extent. Much like the early British imperials that they represent, the martians are arrogant and only win because they have the better technology. Even the destruction of a tripod has severe consequences, a flaming wreckage falling into a lake and boiling the humans hiding there alive. There is nothing pride or goodness to found in destruction and death. Warfare and violence should be the last resort of those trying to survive, yet humanity and martians brandish their weapons without care or empathy for those beneath them.

The Truth, In-Fighting, and the Seemingly Insignificant

These antagonists all represent a morally dangerous part of humanity. The stubborn refusal to change a flawed status quo, the desire to dominate and corrupt those who don’t, needless conquest and bloody war. But despite all their power and influence, these philosophies that the villains believe in fail them in the end.

For White Diamond, her ultimate failure stems from the mortal enemy of all tyrannical systems: the truth. In the last episode of Steven Universe, White Diamond removes the gemstone from our protagonist’s body. Believing that the mischievous Pink Diamond is merely hiding in this human body, White seeks to end this silly game once and for all. But once the gemstone is removed, it does form into Pink Diamond or even Rose Quartz. It forms a bright pink Steven. In the final act of Change Your Mind, White Diamond is faced with reality and all its implications. This gemstone is Steven, it’s always been Steven. This half human is not the irrational or childish person, it’s White. The leader of Homeworld, the one who’s supposed to know all and make things better, is wrong. But in order to do that, she needs to leave her own head. One of the hardest things for a person to do is admit when they’re wrong, that their foundational beliefs holding up a status quo is deeply flawed and objectively false. But accepting that you were wrong, learning from and fixing your mistakes, and becoming something better than what you were before is the greatest reward anyone genuinely looking for redemption can ask for.

For Sauron, his victory over Middle Earth comes so close. Minas Tirith has been ravaged, the army of man outside the black gates are crumbling before his might, and the ring bearer has been corrupted. However, just when all hope is burned to ash, something unexpected happens. Gollum, the epitome of the corruptive power that the one ring possesses, attacks Frodo to get back his precious. Whether it’s through struggling with Frodo like in the movie or not paying attention like in the book, Gollum falls into the fires of Mount Doom with the ring in tow. In the movies, we’re told that the eye of Sauron can pierce through cloud and stone. Because of this detail, I personally wonder what was going through the dark lord’s mind as he watched Gollum plummet to his death. The one ring’s defense, Sauron’s greatest strength, corrupting others into fighting amongst each other, was what led to his ultimate downfall. This is not the first time something like this has happened. Think back to the orcs fighting amongst themselves, or when Wormtongue stabs Saruman in the back. Not to mention that the mercy of both Frodo and Bilbo is what led to Gollum reaching Mount Doom in the first place. Even with all his armies and power, Sauron underestimated the petty infighting amongst his followers and the little acts of kindness of his enemies. Even when the forces of darkness seemingly succeed, all they’ll have left is each other to destroy. As Frodo himself said in the Two Towers book, they can’t conquer forever.

For the martians, their demise comes outwardly from nowhere. Their Tripods fall silent and they all die due to sickness. The book states that the martians either never encountered bacteria like earth’s or they had wiped out all disease on Mars. In both scenarios, the martian’s belief in their untouchable superiority over earth led their death. As soon as their invasion started, they were doomed. War of the Worlds isn’t just a hard look at what humanity could become, but also a love letter to all types of life. Bacteria, the seemingly most insignificant part of our world, is our savior here. It is so, so easy to despise germs and how they make mankind ill. But they also decompose dead flesh, helps the human body digest food, and are just as vital to our world as so many other creatures’ humanity takes for granted. All forms of life has a place in this world and to undervalue, let alone actively want to eliminate, all of it is foolhardy and black-hearted.

It’s how these stories come to an end is why I’m attracted to the idea of villains representing abhorrent philosophies. They show the inherent flaws of such morally bankrupt ideas and how their failures are inevitable. The desire for uniformity and belief that your status quo is flawless cannot stand up to the truth of the situation. Great and powerful conquerors seeking to corrupt will find themselves destroying each other when there is nothing left to dominate, while small acts of generosity and sympathy keep their opponents afloat. Arrogant war lords with their mighty machines will crumble to the things they deem to be insignificant.

#steven universe #white diamond #sauron #tolkien #lord of the rings #martians #war of the worlds #analysis #character analysis #media analysis

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