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Ignorance
part 1/?
Joel Miller x fem!reader
Summary: You confess to Joel and are rejected.
Word Count: 2K
Warning: angst, rejection, mention of the Apocalypse (don't tell me), mention of deaths.
Ignoring the bad part of things was your favorite thing to do. It made you less sad and gave a false sense of normality in the destroyed and rotten reality you lived in. Not that Jackson was destroyed and rotten, but the world outside the gates was. So that's why you ignored everything, the spores, the cordyceps, the clickers, runners, lurkers, all of them. You did everything to escape being put on patrol, you wouldn't leave Jackson unless it was a matter of life and death. His tasks in the community were taking care of the gardens, the stables and cleaning the community cafeteria.
It seems like a lot, but it's good for not looking idle and useless, it takes up your entire day and gives you a feeling of work accomplished and satisfaction at the end of the day, when you climb the few old wooden steps to the porch of your house. Those steps really need replacing, actually. If you stood still for more than a few minutes on top of them you ran the risk of falling. But you left that aside, you had something else in mind. In fact, you had one person in mind.
That almost completely gray-haired man, with a grey beard, robust, deep and serious voice, strong Texan accent. Joel Miller. You couldn't stand being around him for more than a few minutes, your heart was beating very quickly and you felt butterflies in your stomach. The man was Ellie's father, a girl a few years younger than you, she was a bit foul-mouthed but nice, you had already spoken to her a few times.
You held your breath from the first time you saw him in the community a year ago, and it's never been the same since. Whenever you passed him on the streets you held an idiotic sigh, you felt like a teenager for acting like that, but you couldn't help it. The man had your heart in his hands and you couldn't do anything to get it back.
Some people in Jackson spoke badly about Joel behind his back, saying he was a surly, violent man who had a lot of mood swings. One of your few friends, Emily, said the same thing when you mentioned Joel to her, but you ignored it. It wasn't like he was that bad, it should just be that the hard years he lived outside the gates were taking a toll on him, but you were sure he was a good person.
You said this to Emily, but she reiterated that Joel was an extremely violent and bad-tempered man who had done terrible things in the outside world. You chuckled and said 'and who hasn't done terrible things out there?'. Emily sighed and the conversation ended there
Holidays in Jackson were celebrated without fail, especially the most famous ones, like Christmas and New Year, but Maria began to innovate and encourage other things, like spring food festivals, Mother's Day, and Valentine's Day. It seemed strange to celebrate Valentine's Day at the end of the world, but the young people in the community seemed to get excited, you included, so hearts and pink things were hung on the doors of the houses and some lights were painted pink too, in the community bar.
Oh, one thing that wasn't mentioned: his house was almost opposite Joel's house. A coincidence. You took advantage of the Valentine's Day arrangements and picked up some decorations to hang in your house, a medium pink paper heart was glued, and next to it two small red hearts. You pulled away and smiled widely as you looked at the minimal decorations that gave some life to the almost colorless landscape.
You heard heavy footsteps trampling the snow and turned to see the man himself, shotgun slung over his shoulders, backpack on his back and a tired expression on his face. Joel looked directly at your door, then looked at you and shook his head and turned to enter his own without saying anything.
You let out an excited squeal along with other women whenever someone confessed to their loved one or handed over a hastily made card. The number of these events had been increasing since the community was dressed up for the holiday. You couldn't wait to do the same, you had already planned everything, you had handmade a card for Joel, it wasn't pink or red, he didn't seem to like those things very much. It was a nice card that could be used to decorate his room, or something like that, if he didn't actually have a room.
You wouldn't do that in front of everyone, you knew Joel was an older and reserved man, he didn't seem to like attention. You didn't know his schedule, you only saw him occasionally passing home at dusk, so that's what you did: you sat on your sofa below the window and waited until Joel passed by. As soon as he appeared in your field of vision with the same thick beige jacket, the same shotgun slung over his shoulder, the same worn brown backpack and the same heavy boots you stood up and took a deep breath. She watched until he entered the house and closed the door, then took the card from the coffee table and put on his coat, opened the door and took the few steps it took until he arrived at Joel's house.
The card you had prepared was made of yellow paper, folded in half, it had a bee drawn with your best artistic gifts and right below it there was the phrase 'Bee mine?' in large black letters. You let out a giggle through your nose and walked up the few steps to Joel's house, knocked on the door softly and waited.
You didn't notice, but the window curtain moved to open a tiny crack, where Joel peeked out. A few seconds later the door opened and you caught your breath. There he was, he looked tired and you felt bad for going to talk to him at this time. Shaking your head slightly, you were about to start speaking, but before you could open your mouth, Joel spoke:
"May I help you?" the hoarse voice spoke.
"Oh, good night." you said shyly after a few minutes. "I... I wanted to, uhm–"
"Listen, young lady, I don't mean to be rude, but I just got here and I'm tired." he continued.
You swallowed hard and took the card from behind your back, holding it towards him.
"I-I was hoping to talk, but you're tired, so... here it is, I made it for you." you waved the card but he didn't move to take it. "It's for Valentine's Day."
Your stomach was churning, his expression didn't look very good, he looked very seriously at you, then looked at the card.
"You can take it, it’s for you–” you tried to extend the card to him again.
"I'm sorry, but, did you really think this was a good idea, girl?" the tone of voice was rude now. "Coming over to my house like that and handing me a piece of paper?"
"I– uhm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." you swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wanted to give the card I made."
"And why do you want to give me this bullshit so much?"
You had your face lowered but you looked up, slightly wide-eyed at his aggressive sentence, consumed by a wave of angry courage you blurted out:
"I really like you."
"What?" he said mockingly after a few seconds. "Do you really like me?"
"Yes." you answered bravely, still feeling the lump in your throat. "I– I really like you, I mean… I mean I'm in love with you."
Joel stared at your face for a few seconds, as if studying you, then let out a light nasal laugh and said:
"I'm old enough to be your father, girl. Go home and don't bother me again, you seem like the pushy type."
"Listen, please, I've loved you for a long time–"
"What are you talking about, stupid girl?" he looked very angry now, his brow was furrowed and his nostrils were flared. "Love? You don't know what you're talking about."
"If you give me a chance to–"
"Go home, I told you." he said. "There's no chance of that, or anything else, I don't want anything to do with someone like you, understand? Don't bother me anymore."
Then he went back inside and slammed the door in your face.
You knew very early and came home very late to avoid laying eyes on Joel. Maybe she shouldn't have ignored the warnings about him after all, but he was still present in your heart. You shoved the card deep into your dresser, you were embarrassed to look at it now.
Ironically, now that you wanted to be more busy you had less work, winter had arrived and the ground was frozen, so the garden was at a standstill. So you dedicated yourself to the horses and cleaning the mess hall, returning home at almost the same time as always.
You hadn't told Emily what you were going to do and you hadn't told her about the rejection either, she was going to throw it in your face that she had warned you. You felt so stupid now, how could you have thought you had a chance? So much self-esteem.
The days passed quickly and you were thankful for that, but it wasn't like you forgot what happened. Your first interaction with Joel since the incident was when you were cleaning the cafeteria to close, it was already dark and it was practically empty. Mopping the floor repeatedly and sighing every now and then, you didn't see him walk through the large doors.
"Are you guys finishing early?" the thick Texan accent spoke from behind you and you froze momentarily, then turned to him with an effort of blank expression.
"This week, yes, we are down one person." you replied and went back to mopping the floor.
"Okay, thanks." he seemed to hesitate for a moment before walking outside again, and you let out a sharp breath.
The universe seemed to make fun of you and a few days later you had your next interaction with Joel.
Someone covered you in cleaning the cafeteria, so you used the free time to try to fix the rotten steps on your porch. As you repeatedly hammered the nails into place, you felt a poke on your shoulder and stopped your movements, feeling your stomach turn in knots when you saw Joel behind you.
"Can I help you?" you asked, standing up and brushing the snow and dirt off your knees.
"Do you realize it's already night? I need to go out on patrol tomorrow and you're making too much noise." he said rudely.
"Right. I'm sorry." You turned around and started picking up the tools you used, holding them against your chest and seeing the best way to climb without falling.
You had only fixed one of the steps, the one closest to the ground, so you climbed up on it and stretched your leg to try to climb over the others, but the new step wasn't securely fastened and you slipped, letting out a pathetic little scream.
You heard footsteps approaching and his arms lifting you off the ground quickly.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Joel's deep voice asked and you glanced at him sideways.
"I'm fine, thank you." you replied and saw him come closer to rest his hand on the small of your back. "Don't touch me." you exclaimed.
"I just wanted to see if you were hurt." he took a few steps back, looking embarrassed.
"I am well, thank you." you responded quickly and walked away from him, picking up the materials you used earlier again.
You balanced yourself and took a little jump to the porch, entered and closed the door.
#writing#writers on tumblr#fem reader#joel tlou#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x reader angst#joel x reader#tlou2#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#rejection#rejection fic
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so talented!
{The Tragedy of Leto}
I am currently listening non-stop to the EPIC concept album and there were so many quotes in the lyrics that just inspired me to draw Dune stuff lol.
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{The Tragedy of Leto}
I am currently listening non-stop to the EPIC concept album and there were so many quotes in the lyrics that just inspired me to draw Dune stuff lol.
29 notes
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i love this so much 🤍😭
Desert Storm
Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Fremen Reader NSFW
Request: “Soooo I got this idea stuck in my mind. RM Jessica falls for the woman that her son, Paul, is also in love with. Basically, reader is like Chani, but not really 😅 So, RM Jessica will do everything in her power to steal her away from her own son (successfully coz she got me on a chokehold fr wink*). Yandere vibes or something close to that. I'll let you decide if you'll add some spice and everything nice.” from @buttercandy16
Warnings: Ritualistic groping, sweat and tear ingestion, erotic lactation and breastfeeding, Jessica and Alia telepathically beefing, Jessica is her own warning
A/N: Don't look me in the eyes, believe me, I know how the warnings sound. May my Catholic mother's prayers cleanse these sinful hands that hath created this abomination. (Sexy abomination, *wink wink*).
Word Count: 4.4k of filth
The water of life had opened her mind in unimaginable ways. What once had been a struggle to do, power that had been a struggle to wield, became light. Jessica could see things and feel things that felt almost wrong to be able to digest. Waking up in the midst of the Fremen Sayyadina as they were panting and sighing in ecstasy felt strange. They’d drank of the sweat on her forehead, and the potent spice had acted as a powerful stimulant, and in some cases an aphrodisiac. Jessica watched as a pair of the Sayyadina grasped another, the two of them passionately kissing one another. It was odd to see such open intimacy between two people, between two women.
“Reverend Mother, they wish to make (Reader) a Sayyadina with you.” a Fremen priestess murmured, drinking from her skin as a trickle of sweat came down her forehead.
“Bring… Her in.” Jessica whispered.
The dead Reverend Mother was bound, carried away as the remaining lucid Sayyadina did their part to prepare her. The soon to be Sayyadina, (Reader), was brought forward. Jessica stared up at her with newly blue-stained eyes.
“You must drink of the sweat on her face.” the sayyadina instructed the girl.
Jessica watched as you kneeled in front of her, gently searching for a bit of sweat to ingest. Most of it had been taken already, only a patch on her upper lip remained accessible. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to the flesh just below her lip, gently licking away the sweat there. Jessica reached forward, hands grasping desperately at you.
“I see.” Jessica whispered, grabbing your face. “Oh, I see what he sees.”
Jessica promptly closed her eyes, dropping into a sleep of pure exhaustion. As she slept, as she dreamed, she dreamed of you. With one little touch, she’d been granted powerful insight into your being, your composition and your bearing. You were Fremen, desert strong. Capable of withstanding more than some of the most acclimated soldiers. And Jessica liked that.
“Stay with her. We will tell the man child.”
You were left to watch over the new Reverend Mother, the slow potency of the spice saturated sweat causing a slow smoldering heat in you. Several Sayyadina around you were in the middle of hunting down their husbands and partners, overcome by the effect of it all. You sat still, observing the slow breaths of the new religious leader in your group.
<>
“Mother, she’s Paul’s!” Alia spoke to Jessica.
It had been several weeks since Jessica had taken the water of life, several weeks since Alia had gained consciousness and begun speaking to her in utero. What had first been a new blessing had become another aggravation. Alia was sweet. Dedicated, loving and loyal to a fault. Every bit her father’s child. But Jessica shared a connection with her that allowed the child access to her foremost thoughts, desires and ideas.
“If you don’t hush.” Jessica whispered back.
“What did you say?” you asked, frowning.
“My child speaks.” Jessica replied, then adding, “Of nonsense.”
“Mom!!!” Alia cried.
You saw Jessica’s face contort into a steely expression as she appeared to silently reprimand the conscious fetus inside of her. It was strange, watching her interact with her daughter. Moreso, it was strange watching the other Sayyadina react to it all. You were with Paul mostly, attacking Harkonnen spice mining crews and machines, but recently Jessica had been requesting your presence on a frequent basis, requiring you more and more often.
“She is… Fully conscious?” you asked, eyeing the soft bump warily.
“Mmm. Yes.” Jessica replied, eyeing you with indiscernible interest. “She speaks like an adult, I believe she has the intellect of an adult as well. However, she is inexperienced in the ways of the world and knows it only through ancestral memory. She must learn to listen to her mother.” Jessica finished, a deadly warning in her expression meant for an individual without eyes to see it with.
Jessica extended her hand.
“Feel.”
You walked forward, a bit nervous. She was only ten weeks or so along, there was hardly a bump there. You placed your hand in hers, and she smiled, bringing it to rest quite low.*
“The baby will sit just above my pubic bone, you won’t feel movement, but you can feel the soft bump.” Jessica whispered, eyeing you in that strange way she was quite fond of.
“Oh. Thank you, Reverend Mother.”
Jessica smiled again, gently toying with your blue headband.
“You’ve begun to wear this quite often. What does it mean?”
The question caused you to blush. The piece of fabric was quite irrelevant, but the color was significant for many things.
“Oh… Well. We Fremen wear blue when we’re in love.”
Jessica’s eyes grew sharp and her hand stilled.
“With who?”
“Well, your son.” you admitted.
Jessica was quite silent for a period that was out of character for her. By the way she stared straight ahead, it was clear that she wasn’t talking to Alia. Her lips would often quirk when conversing with the child, and her eyes would dart around in thought. But she was deadly silent at this moment. No quiver of her lips, no movement of her eyes, not even the slightest twitch.
“I see.” Jessica finally said. “You make a mistake, assuming he can love you.” she whispered, leaning in predatorily. “My daughter Alia reminds him often that he must reserve his hand for the most diplomatically beneficial match.”
You clenched your teeth, drawing away from her.
“Paul can make his own choices without you two involving yourselves.” you replied, venom boiling through your words.
Your feet moved of their own accord, drawing towards the exit and out of Jessica’s room, forgetting the code of conduct. You were to formally greet and bid goodbye to the Reverend Mother at all times, to provide respect.
“Stop.”
You froze, breath caught in your throat at the barked order. She’d never used the Voice on you before, and you’d never seen it used.
“You will respect your Reverend Mothers.” Jessica spoke, in a two-toned voice. “All of us.”
Chills ran up and down your spine as you turned, viewing Jessica in fear.
“Come here.”
You were forced to walk back towards her. She grabbed your face with both hands, eyes wild as she observed you.
“I will be leaving to spread the news of Paul in the south. You will come with me.”
You shook your head. You were Feydakin, and a fighter. Your primary role to the tribe was not being a priestess, but being a fighter. To leave Paul to fight without you would leave him vulnerable, without relief from his dreams. Sure, he had Silgar, but the man was a fool and only fueled the Bene Gesserit delusions. Who would be the voice of reason amidst all of this?
“I am Feydakin.”
“No, you are Sayyadina. You go where I tell you to go, when I tell you to go. And as your Reverend Mother, I have the say over the matter. I want a fighter by my side, can’t you see?” Jessica whispered, eyes clouding over in soft anxiety.
Even though Jessica was Bene Gesserit, you’d always had a six sense for when someone was playing you. This was Jessica playing.
“You defeated Stilgar.” you retorted. “You are fighter enough.
“But I am pregnant.” Jessica replied. “And that was weeks ago. I will only continue to get bigger, to become more immobile. I will need a trusted protector.”
You eyed her with extreme skepticism, taking a moment to let her words hang. Most liars filled silence by instinct, word vomit flying out of their mouths under pressure. But Jessica knew that trick. And although her real reasons for having you close to her weren’t reasons previously given, her being pregnant was a viable excuse she could use if needed.
“It’s because you don’t want me to date Paul, isn’t it? My common Fremen blood isn’t good enough for him?”
Jessica laughed. It sounded unkind.
“No. Paul would be lucky to have someone as headstrong and wise as you for a partner, especially someone who is both those things and young, fertile. But his future lies elsewhere. And I do care for you. I would hate to see you hurt.”
She stepped forward, placing both her hands on your shoulders. She was back on her game. You had a sense that she was telling the truth, but only partly.
“Paul will join us in the south when he is ready. Distance will fizzle out the bond or… Make it stronger.” her face twitched. “But I believe it will be solidly the former.”
It was a struggle to stay in that room. You wanted to run out of her room to find the nearest corner to lie in. Not cry. You were Fremen. You didn’t cry over broken hearts and star-crossed love affairs. Not even the dead.
“I wish to be dismissed.” you managed, voice hoarse.
“No. You will stay with me, in my sight until we leave. It is better this way. Separate yourself where you can.”
“Reverend Mother, I wish to leave.” you repeated.
You needed a quiet corner, a place to breathe out and vent your pain without crying. This was humiliation, this was hurtful, this was heartbreak. And you needed to deliver the burden outward. Not in front of this woman with words shaped more like daggers, chipping away at year’s worth of armor to prevent you from crying.
“No.”
“You don’t understand, I need-”
“I am well aware of what you think you need.” Jessica interrupted, “And I assure you that it would be better to stay with me. I am what you need.”
It was a battle. Both internal and external. But you weren’t the only one boiling with voices too loud.
“Mother let her go, mother let her go!” Alia repeated over and over. “She will crack, she will waste water, you cannot let her waste water.”
“Silence!” Jessica spat, clutching at her womb. “You, sit.” she pointed.
Her usage of the voice was becoming more and more frequent, and it was directly tied to how in control she felt. It wasn’t something she used lightly, but as tensions and excitement rose, her composure would wear slightly, and she’d use it less sparingly.
“I do not care for your insolence, Alia.” Jessica began to berate her daughter aloud. “It is both rude and unwelcome. These are adult matters. I.. Hold your tongue. Stop interrupting me.. No, I don’t care if you have an adult mind, it is quite literally irrelevant to your circle of control.”
The argument once again turned internal, with Jessica’s lips twitching wordlessly. The debate was intense, and evidently not meant for your ears.
“There.” Jessica sighed, massaging her temples. “Forgive the interruption, she is just so opinionated.”
Her eyes flashed with her last statement, a hidden anger rooted there. Then she moved, sitting beside you with a sigh. You were still fighting tears. She reached a hand out, moving to fold a bit of your hair back into the bonnet.
“Don’t touch me.” you snapped.
Jessica snorted, continuing to fuss over your hair.
“Your hair is covered in sand.”
“We’re on a desert planet.” you retorted.
Jessica didn’t respond. Instead, she got up and grabbed a comb, undoing your day’s old braid and gently combing out the dust and sand. She braided it in a style that was a bit foreign, beginning the braid from the crown of your head instead of the root. Once complete, she tied a scarf over your hairline. A soft beige. Decidedly neutral. The blue bonnet was confiscated.
“So you’re deciding what I can and can’t feel now?” you said.
Your words sounded more wounded than you intended them to.
“No. I’m simply tying a fresh scarf over you. This one needs to dry.”
You rolled your eyes.
“You can’t clean things in the desert.”
“Air does wonderful things. So does the sun.”
The urge to backtalk her more was deafening. The words posed on the tip of your tongue, like a serpent waiting to strike.
“Come. It is time to rest.”
“It is midday, Reverend Mother.”
“And I am tired, and I will not allow you to escape from my watch. You will join me.”
Her words were not laced with a command of the Voice, but she probably could add it if you didn’t comply. Her hands pulled your outer robes off. She kept herself in a thin, sleeveless dress, pulling you into her. Why Jessica needed you this close was up for debate. You assumed it was because she desired control. She assumed that too, but a third voice quietly thought otherwise.
“You smell like the sun.” Jessica murmured, pressing her nose into your hair.
“And you smell like sweat.”
Neither scent was necessarily bad in the Fremen culture. No one would tell Jessica that her sweat was bad, a body was just a body, and it smelled as such. And the slightly burned scent of hair was just that. The sun roasted strange scents and colors into a person after a while. You would smell as such.
“Are your periods still regular?” she asked, the question phrased not unkindly.
“Yes.” you murmured.
“Good, that’s good.”
It was odd that she’d fret over your fertility while simultaneously resenting your relationship with Paul. But she was an odd character. It would be natural for her to have odd questions.
“Closer, lie closer to me.” Jessica whispered.
This rest, you would not.
<->
“Closer, I need you closer.” you whispered, pressing your face into Jessica’s neck.
She hummed, sleepily pulling you in, adjusting the pillow around her swollen belly to accommodate your increased closeness.
“You’re needy this morning.” Jessica sighed.
“Hmm?” you frowned.
“Not you, Alia.” Jessica sighed. “You’re always welcome for a cuddle.”
She let out a contented hum, pulling you as close as she could with her belly protruding. Her nose rested against your forehead, you could feel the moisture of her breath. The cuddle lasted a few more moments before a Sayyadina entered, informing Jessica from behind the fabric curtain of her yali that breakfast would be served in a quarter of an hour.
“Help me up.” Jessica murmured, rubbing her eyes.
You gently helped her to sit, pulling back the thin sheet. Her feet were swollen.
“Oh.” you winced.
“The joys of pregnancy, I know.” Jessica sarcastically grimaced.
Her sighs of pain turned to those of relief as you slowly worked your hands over her feet, massaging the swollen calves and tendons. The Reverend Mother propped herself up with a pillow, drawing slow circles over her belly as you worked on her feet. Her lips were pursed, she was in deep conversation with Alia. Jessica laughed a little at whatever the child said, and then nodded. You watched in fascination as her belly began to tremble slightly.
“Morning exercise.” Jessica explained. “Feel.”
She held your hands over her large belly as Alia kicked inside. You could feel the consistent, violent movement inside.
“You let her do that?” you frowned.
“It’s good for her, she needs to move her limbs, she needs the stimulation. But she does ask before kicking, or does so when she requires touch.”
The explanation was sufficient, and fascinating.Hers and Alia’s relationship was complicated, but amusing from the eyes of an outsider. You grabbed her robes and yours, helping her dress. She preferred bare feet most days, but today you coerced her into wearing soft moccasins to support her tender feet. Her hands lingered over yours as you adjusted her outer robes.
“Thank you.” Jessica murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your temple.
Following breakfast, Jessica drew you towards the Fremen temple where the masses were meditating. Today was a more quiet moment. Jessica was requiring of a specific ritual of group contact today, a spring rite. She brought you forward, resting her legs around your hips, yours fitted loosely around her bottom. Another Sayyadina came behind her, resting her hands on Jessica’s abdomen and pressing her pelvis into Jessica’s bottom. Spice was passed around, and members slowly began to sway together in a throng. But something was different today. More Fremen holy men and women began to touch more freely with one another. The Sayyadina with her pelvis pressed against your back began to sway with you. Desire. Her breath was hot on your neck, and her hands fitted loosely on your stomach. Jessica leaned into the arms of the Fremen priestess behind her. The breath of the group began getting heavier, labored. You could feel the energy surrounding you, the heaviness in the air. Touching slowly became more sensual, caresses of the torso more common.
Jessica kept your hands in hers, swaying more frequently. The Sayyadina behind her began to draw her hands over her more sensually, as did the Sayyadina behind you. Fingers pulling at the fabric of your robes, hands drawing over your abdomen, over your thighs, and eventually slipping up your collarbone. The Sayyadina behind Jessica was more brave, fingers kneading the swollen curves of her breasts. It was a spring ritual, meant to further the fertility of the Fremen, meant to inspire the energy of life around them. It was what the people needed, it was what the people required. But your role in this was confusing. Why had Jessica placed you opposite her? Were you a symbol of the Fremen’s future? The Sayyadina behind you placed both her hands over your womb, and a distant chant for fertility began in the back of the room. It bloomed until everyone aside from Jessica and yourself were chanting. It was deafening and was confusing. The sight in front of you didn’t help. The Sayyadina behind Jessica had her hands pressed firmly against Jessica’s chest, groping and pulling at her swelling breasts. It should have disgusted you, this sight. But it didn’t. A distinctly different feeling came forth. It wasn’t until you were out of the ritual, back into Jessica’s chambers, that you pieced it together.
“You ran off fast.” Jessica rasped, soft footsteps filling the yali.
“I had a lot to think about.”
You noticed her bare feet. Feet that you distinctly remembered placing in moccasins earlier. Another stab of jealousy snuck up through your throat.
“Where are your moccasins, Reverend Mother?”
“Nabiya has them. I didn’t want them anymore.” Jessica sighed.
“Nabiya?”
“The Sayyadina behind me during the ritual.”
You clenched your jaw, looking away. They were confusing, these feelings you were having as of late. Jessica noted your closed off nature, laughing a little.
“Oh come on, now.” Jessica sighed, wrapping her arms around you, her belly pressing into your back. “It was a ritual, I am a pregnant, fertile woman, and a Reverend Mother. You are too. This will bring the Fremen much joy, to see their holy women fertile and strong.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
Jessica rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue softly.
“That ritual isn’t done every year. I distinctly remember the last Reverend Mother doing it last year.”
“Yes, but I am a new Reverend Mother, and we are in a time of great anxiety and excitement. It is important to encourage the community to reproduce.” Jessica murmured. “It is important to remind you of the beauty of your youth…”
“Paul is my chosen-”
“Hush.” Jessica cut you off. “None of that.”
There was a burning in your eyes, and you looked up at the ceiling of the yali to avoid crying.
“Shh, shh.” Jessica murmured, stroking your head. “You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.”
“I’m useless here.” you protested. “I should be beside him, I should be fighting for my people instead of sitting in rooms while people touch me and praise my unproven fertility.”
Jessica hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Her hands hadn’t stilled their soothing caresses over your face and neck.
“Come, lie on the bed with me.”
You were weakened to her requests as it was a matter of compliance as well as comfort. Jessica’s arms encircled your body, and she hummed softly, drawing her fingers over your scalp.
“There will be another. One for you to love.”
“Reverend Mother, Paul said he loved me.”
Jessica smiled sadly, placing another kiss on your forehead. Her hands drew lower, resting on your neck.
“He has found another.”
All of the air escaped your lungs in a wheeze. Jessica’s forehead softened, and she brought you in for a deeper hug.
“Don’t cry, I know, I know it hurts.” she murmured.
You got the sense that she did care. The months spent at her side as Alia had grown resulted in softer, more empathetic moments from the usually hardened holy leader. And besides Paul and Alia, you were one of the few people she cared for, probably the only Fremen she viewed as anything except a pawn.
“Who?” you whimpered. “Who does he love?”
Jessica shook her head. She pressed kiss after kiss over your face, fingers drawing up and down your back.
“Another from the North. I do not think it wise to tell you who.”
A dry sob came from your throat. You weren’t crying tears, but you were still vocalizing, much like the women of the tribe would do for the dead.
“I know it hurts.” she repeated. “So give it to me.”
Her hands held your face, and as the first tear slipped down your cheeks, her lips were there to catch it, drinking in the moisture. You only shed a few tears, it was all you dared spare, but what you didn’t expect was for her to give it back. Her lips brushed against yours, delivering a soft bead of saliva onto your tongue. She did this so tenderly, fingers stroking over your cheeks softly.
“You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.” Jessica whispered, repeating her earlier words with a hint of sensuality, with a hint of more care.
She leaned in again, her nose brushing against yours. You looked into her spice stained eyes, tentatively drawing a thumb over the tattoos on her cheeks. She smiled softly, and leaned in all the way, lips slowly dancing over yours. It was the reprieve for the ache in your heart. You were heartbroken over Paul, but over the months spent with Jessica, you’d slowly come to care for her too, and the infant child inside of her. You noted the unusual stillness of Alia, the dormant nature of the child. A hand on Jessica’s abdomen confirmed her sleepy state. If the child had been awake, there would have been a soft pressure on the other side as she touched back. Jessica pulled away, stroking your cheek. Her eyes were clouded over in a glow of satisfaction, and the telltale signs of her scheming lay in the intensity of her gaze.
“Do me a favor.” Jessica murmured. “My milk is coming in… Only a little right now, but it is better that it be extracted and taken into a body immediately.”
“I’ll get the pump and the straw so you can drink what it collects.” you assumed.
Jessica laughed softly, pulling you back into her arms before you could leave.
“No, no dear. If I was going to pump it, I would’ve done so this morning. I wish to share it.”
You balked at this, and Jessica laughed even more, her hands encircling your hot cheeks.
“Sweetheart, please. It is a gift, and cannot be given to anyone else.”
Jessica gently parted her robes, exposing a swollen breast. Your first instinct was to turn away, but Jessica was quicker, firmly cupping your face, forcing you to meet her eyes.
“No, no. Do not pull away. Accept the gift.”
Jessica’s phrasing of the request was despicably deliberate. The gift of water was a holy, sacred act. A symbol of someone’s devotion to another. Usually it was done via spit, but if it came from the body, sharing it was a devotional act. To deny it was like denying the person, a sign of great disrespect. It was the tender touch of her thumbs over your cheeks that convinced you. A soft kiss was all the reassurance Jessica gave before she pushed you down.
“A soft latch. That’s all that’s required.” Jessica directed.
You nodded, leaning in and wrapping your lips around the stiff, brown nipple. It was warm, growing stiffer immediately between your lips. With a soft, experimental suck, a bead of milk landed on your tongue. Jessica let out a relieved moan, her hands tightening in your hair. Alia stirred slightly, but settled. She was unaware of this exchange.
“Again.” Jessica pleaded.
You’d never heard her use this tone of voice before. It was breathy, needy even. It inspired stirrings in you, made you more eager to please. You moved your lips slowly, imitating the suckling of babies you’d witnessed in the past. It required a bit of tongue and throat movement, but you managed to produce the correct combination, milk landing in steady streams on your tongue. Jessica let out pleasured hums of relief, her hands stroking over your head. It was a small amount of milk, and she went dry quickly.
“Other side now, beloved.” Jessica murmured. “And save a mouthful for me this time.”
The suggestion was odd, and a bit exciting. You were less unsure of yourself this time around, and you were careful to keep a decent amount of milk in your mouth at all times to fulfill her next request. It made the process a bit slower, which Jessica did appreciate. Her fingers could dance over your cheeks as they rhythmically hollowed. She could commit the sight of your lips on her breast to her private memory. You pulled away as she went dry, holding what milk remained in your mouth. A soft tap on your chin directed you upward, and Jessica opened her mouth, awaiting what you had collected. You released the liquid back to her in a steady stream, and she swallowed greedily, but she didn’t stop there. Her lips and tongue collected what was left, her tongue searching every crevice of your mouth for the sweet milk that remained. Her breasts dried in the humid air, and she leisurely swirled her tongue over yours, enjoying the remaining traces of her milk on your tongue.
“Lovely.” Jessica murmured. “Now I’m nice and empty, and you’re full of my nutrients.”
There was a mildly deranged look in her eyes, and you wondered just how much her ego had swelled now that you’d nursed from her, now that you’d shared her own kiss. Her hands drew you back in, pressing your face to her neck, fingers tracing delicately through your scalp. The smell of her breast milk lingered, a sweetness that complimented her natural odor.
“Oh… The things we will be…”
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"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that leads to total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will allow it to pass over and through me. And when it has passed, I will turn my inner eye to see its trail. Where fear is no longer there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
- Dune by Frank Herbert, page 18.
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this is so amazing!!
i must not fear. fear is the mind-killer.
prints + merch
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I'm not the only one - 5
Leto Atreides x reader
Word Count: 1,2K
Warning: angst, age difference, arranged marriage, mention of infidelity, misogyny, reader is kind of toxic.
series masterlist | next chapter
Leaning further over the dark stone railing of your bedroom balcony, you rubbed your face with your hands in a frustrated movement. When you looked up, you stared at the large rugged stones that formed the shield wall.
You didn't know why you were so angry, it shouldn't surprise you, Jessica's pregnancy, after all, that's her purpose inside the castle, to sleep with him. But it didn't matter, you were very upset, furious, so before she could answer your question you continued chewing and the rest of the meal passed in silence. When you were done, you quietly left the table.
This happened a few days ago and you once again trapped yourself in the comfort of your quarters, not wanting to interact with anyone. You knew you might be acting childish, but you were too angry to even think straight. To make your mood even worse, you remembered your father and let out a disgruntled groan, hiding your face in your hands again.
Your father would make your life hell, through letters, when he found out that the duke's concubine was pregnant and you weren't, even though you explained a thousand times before you got married that the possibility of having an heir with him was minimal, since he already had one as an adult. Your father didn't care. 'It is a woman's duty to give children to her lord husband' was what he said.
You didn't really have any opinion to give, Leto was in charge of the castle, and he could do whatever he wanted. You were nothing compared to him. A soft knock sounded on the thick door of your quarters and you let yourself in without looking back, a huge danger, Thufir would kill you if he saw that.
"Milady Duchess, you must prepare for dinner with the Duke." Raja's serious voice spoke from behind you and you looked over your shoulder.
"Did he demand my presence?"
"The duke says it's your obligation as a wife, my lady." she replied and you had to remember all the etiquette lessons you had to not frown and send Raja away.
"Right." you replied and left the porch, walking in measured steps to the bed. "Help me, yes?"
"What dress would you like, my lady?" she asked.
"Choose it yourself." you replied in a tired voice.
"But, duchess–"
She stopped talking at the tired and serious look you gave her, turned and walked to the closet. It took a few minutes until she returned with a burgundy dress, made of soft material and with sleeves glued to the arms, gathered at the bust and near the skirts.
Raja dressed you and fixed your hair, she also ran a soft cloth over your face to improve the exhausted look, you hoped it worked. Holding back your sighs of irritation and discontent, you walked to the dining room and the guards opened the large doors, you walked through them and entered the large room.
"My lord." you greeted Leto, who was sitting at the end of the table, before starting to walk to the other end, but he cleared his throat.
"Not today, I want you to sit here next to me." he said, in a way that you couldn't decipher what he felt.
Using more of your etiquette training, you suppressed the urge to distort your face into an expression of disgust and gracefully walked to the seat next to his, sat down, and dinner began to be served. You ate silently, you had already learned to keep your mouth closed during dinners, just the soft noise of the cutlery.
"You locked yourself in your quarters again, from what I've been told." his voice cut through the silence.
Feeling your brow furrow in irritation, you couldn't help yourself:
"You are constantly informed about my every step, you never see it with your own eyes.”
The Duke looked up, but you kept your eyes on the wine glass that was next to your plate.
"I have to spend more time in the landing pad tower, I moved the staff meetings there." he said after clearing his throat. "I wish I could spend more time here."
It seems to me that you had plenty of time to put a baby in Lady Jessica, you thought venomously, but remained silent.
"I don't like that, our coexistence was better." he started again. "Tell me your thoughts, regarding my concubine's pregnancy."
"I have no opinion to express, sire." you replied, lowering your face.
"Don't call me sire, I'm your husband." his tone sounded slightly irritated. "I'm trying hard to treat you properly but you don't cooperate with me."
"My opinion is that the fact that she is pregnant is a huge disrespect to me, I know that our union is political but you must respect me at least in public." you spat, feeling the back of your neck heat up.
"A disrespect? I respect you, I have respected you since the day we got married." he replied, his brow furrowing slightly.
"It's not exactly an act of respect to impregnate your bedmate while I still have no heirs." you blurted out.
"I don't accept you talking about my lifemate like that." he scolded and you closed your hands into fists under the table. "And I made it very clear that I wouldn't have any children with you the first time we had dinner together."
"Is that why you started the conversation? To mistreat me like you always do?”
"I didn't mistreat you, I'm making your place in this union and in this castle very clear. Jessica has been my partner for sixteen years and is the mother of my son. You are nothing more than title and obligation." he finished speaking and took a deep breath, he seemed tired from the effort of saying everything in one breath.
His words carried so much truth that you raised your face and stared at the duke's troubled expression for a few minutes, before wiping your mouth with your napkin and asking for permission to leave.
Your stomach dropped as you walked into the hallway of your quarters and saw Lady Jessica standing near the door, her hands braided in front of her, her body draped in a simple black dress, her hair tied up in a bun, not a single strand of hair outside the top. place. Leto was right, you weren't even close to her.
"Lady Jessica, what are you doing here?" you asked when you got close to her. She swallowed hard and bowed to you.
"I was hoping to speak to you for a moment, Duchess." she replied softly.
"It's too late, we can talk tomorrow." you replied and surprisingly you weren't being venomous, it was really too late and you were exhausted.
"I do not wish to disturb you, my lady, I just want to clarify–"
"Tomorrow, Lady Jessica." you replied, feeling your head throbbing. "You should go and keep my husband company, he should already be in his quarters."
Passing by the catatonic figure, you entered your room and closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, closing your eyes and sighing heavily.
Leto's words wouldn't leave your mind anytime soon.
#writing#writers on tumblr#dune fanfiction#fem reader#leto atreides x reader angst#duke leto x reader#duke leto#leto atreides#dune fanfic#dune fic#leto atreides x reader#leto atreides x you
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love u cal my bby
@fallingintoyourlilaceyes @zaldritzosrose @bookslifeandeverythingelse @eyelinerandcigarettes
@tomtomslongdong thank u for tagging me honey! you know i love cute shit like this hehehe
the goal is to make it look as much like yourself as possible, so <3
link to make your own here
pssssst please feel free to tell me to fuck off if you don't like being tagged in these but: @calumfmu @cinemabean @eddiesxangel @eiightysixbaby @ghostlyfleur @joshlmbrt @lighteyed @littlexdeaths @obriengf @urhoneycombwitch @xxbimbobunnyxx (alternatively if you enjoy participating in these and i didn't tag you pls lmk and i promise to tag you from now on)
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I Couldn't Anymore
Gurney Halleck x fem!reader
Word Count: 1K
Warning: mention of death.
note: I used phrases number 1 and 16 from the list of phrases in this post!
Summary: Gurney confesses his love for you.
"Gurney, wait!" you planted your feet on the ground, stopping as he tried to continue pulling you.
You saw Gurney's head turn towards you, he tried to hold back a growl of frustration. He released your hand and walked a few closer, holding your arms.
"You know, we have to find a quiet place to talk." he started and you shook your head.
"Tell me what we need to talk about so urgently, it's the middle of the night!" you exclaimed and Gurney planted his index finger in front of his lips, his weathered brow frowning slightly.
"I just got back from the spice fields, I almost got swallowed by a sandworm." he stated like it was nothing, causing your eyes to widen.
"Is that true?" you asked and the shameless man just nodded, affirming. "Gurney–"
"Come on, come on, please." he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "We can't just stand here in the middle of the hallway."
You started walking again and Gurney took your hand again, turning his head to the side to check if anyone was nearby.
You were one of the Atreides' maids, you worked in the kitchens, you didn't know how someone with a high and important position like Gurney had looked at you, and you also didn't know why he would want your friendship, but he did.
It was common for him to escape to the kitchens when he was free from his tasks, when there were few around he would pull you by the hand and take you for a walk through the empty areas of the Atreides palace on Arrakeen. The two of you would often walk and talk for hours, and Gurney would even play some basilet for you, making you laugh with his graces and songs.
You were about to go to bed when the heavy knocks of Gurney's hands sounded on the door of your humble quarters in the servants' area, and here you were now.
When they got close to the training yard, Gurney stopped and turned to you, then held your arms and guided you to one of the walls, making you hold your breath.
Well, it would be a lie if I said that I had never looked at him with different eyes, Gurney was an older and more mature man, but still attractive and funny, he would certainly be a good husband, but it was almost impossible for him to get married, for the way he lived, with his position as warmaster.
He pushed you until your back touched the cold stone, then he gave you a light smile and looked at you for a few minutes, a small, genuine smile on his face.
"What?" you asked, feeling confused, your cheeks heating up from the way he looked at you.
"Let me just..." he said, sighing. "I was on the brink of death today."
"And you say that calmly?" You lightly slapped his arm, making him let out a low laugh.
"It's over, I'm safe and well." he said, lowering his voice a little. "But, it made me realize something."
"What?"
"It made me realize that... I can't hide what I feel anymore, I need to tell you." he said, his voice becoming hoarser, almost a whisper.
"Gurney... what are you talking about?" you asked, your heart started to beat faster.
"I have feelings for you." he said bluntly, looking into your eyes. "I couldn’t live with myself, if I didn’t tell you.”
You wide your eyes slightly, the cold settled in your stomach, you looked at Gurney and he had the same expression, he was a dreamer.
"Gurney, are you kidding me?" you asked
"No, I would never joke about something like that, you know." he said. "I'm like a constant wonder, my head is full of songs and quotes and flowery phrases. And there are times when you also take up a lot of space, among all the beautiful things I have in my head."
"Don't say such nice things to me, Gurney." you frowned, feeling your eyes moisten.
"Ah, ah, no, don't cry, my beauty." he placed his calloused hands on your cheeks. "It will break my heart if a tear falls from your eyes."
He wiped the tears from your cheeks before they ran any further, and continued looking firmly into your eyes.
"Are you really serious?" you asked, your big eyes staring at him. "Aren't you kidding me?"
"I would never do that." he moved even closer, you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. "How you made me fall in love with you is still beyond me."
You blinked a few times, his eyes didn't lie. He was telling the truth. Without thinking much, you crashed your lips onto his, closing your eyes. Just as quickly as you approached, you moved away, looking at him. Gurney now had a big smile on his lips.
"Is it already like this? Stealing kisses?" he said in a laughing voice.
"You would do the same thing." you said shyly, this made his smile widen even wider.
Gurney pulled you into his arms and used one of his hands to tilt your chin up, looking into your eyes. You could hear the noise of the city, the moving sand, the trees near the courtyard. But everything stopped when Gurney pressed her lips against his, in a real kiss this time. Your lips were thin and dry, but none of that mattered, you had never felt this way.
He lowered his hands to your waist, squeezing gently, you sighed and raised your hands to his face, feeling the skin not so firm due to his age. He separated, placing light and short kisses on her lips, he directed his lips to her cheeks and continued placing light kisses there.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to live without touching my lips to yours again." he said and you let out a giggle.
"I would say the same thing."
#writing#writers on tumblr#dune fanfiction#fem reader#gurney halleck fanfic#gurney x reader#gurney halleck#gurney halleck x reader
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LET THE WORLD BURN
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader (wife)
Word Count: 0,7K
Warning: possessive behavior
note: this short story is a failed attempt to write something based on the song below:
disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the music used as inspiration for this story.
You kept running as fast as you could, even though you somehow knew it would be useless. His fear spoke louder than his reason, the tears flowing freely down his face were proof of that.
Your knees were shaking slightly from all the time you ran, the hallways all looked the same. You always hated that about Harkonnen Fortress: everything looked exactly the same. Turning another hallway, you leaned against one of the walls to take a deep breath, still looking around with wide eyes.
Your husband's hoarse voice was still present in your ears, you thought you would never forget it.
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.
The sick psychotic man you were stuck with for the rest of your life. That thought made you shiver slightly. Feyd treated you well, as well as someone like him could, but then you perhaps abused his good faith, spending too much time with other people than with him, spending more time with other men, laughing with them. Feyd gave you a warning to stop it, or he would be seen as a weak husband who doesn't have his wife's respect, but you didn't listen, so he started being extremely violent, not physically and not towards you, of course.
Feyd seemed obsessed with you since before the wedding, the possessive behavior seemed to get worse.
You had only been married for about a couple of months and you couldn't take it anymore, Feyd would kill anyone for anything. Before it was just the servants, but then he started killing guards, officers working for his uncle, and one of his concubines. It wouldn't take long for your turn to come.
You should calm down and not think like that because at your wedding Feyd swore at the altar that he would protect you, but you knew that wasn't true.
You took comfort in the fact that if Feyd laid a finger on you he would answer to your father, and the alliance his uncle had formed with your planet would end. But tonight... tonight made you forget all that.
Feyd seemed more skittish than usual, aggressive. He had entered his quarters and was breathing heavily, his nostrils flared. You remained quiet, but it seems that your silence irritated him even more, he started throwing the furniture in the room, the dresser, the mirror, and turned to you. You could have sworn you saw his eyes red with anger, without waiting another second you ran away, getting lost in the maze of colorless corridors of this place.
Your thoughts returned to the present moment when you realized that you had been standing in the same place for a long time, Feyd could reach you if you stayed there. Walking back, you sighed heavily and groaned in frustration when you saw that the next hallway was exactly the same as the one you were in.
Before you could turn back and see if you could enter another hallway, a pair of muscular arms closed around you, your back pressed against his chest, warm and hard from years of training. You looked down and immediately recognized the hands with the fingers full of Feyd rings. Before he could scream, a large, calloused hand covered his mouth.
"I was too weak, I shouldn't have fallen in love with someone treacherous like you." his voice tickled your ear. "I let you get too close, that will change."
You struggled and tried to free yourself, but it was useless, Feyd was bigger and stronger from the years of training and fighting.
"I know you think you can get away, but I'm the only one." he tightened his grip. "I can't let you go, don't you understand?"
He released you and turned your body, making you face him, then pushed you towards one of the dark walls, you felt your back pressed against the cold stone. Then he pressed himself against you, pinning your arms to your sides, bringing your body closer to his.
"You don't understand, you don't understand what I would do for you, woman." he nuzzled your cheek and you held your breath. "I would burn the world down, I would burn the whole world down for you. It would just be you and me, you would call my name."
"Don't say that, Feyd..."
"If I can't have you, then no one else can." Looking into his eyes, you knew that was true.
You were his forever.
#writing#writers on tumblr#dune fanfiction#fem reader#feyd rautha#dune fic#feyd rautha fanfic#feyd rautha imagine#feyd x reader#feyd rautha x reader#Spotify#feyd x you#feyd oneshot
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I heard you have open requests for Stilgar so I spawn here ✨😬
Hello! First of all! I really adore your work and I´d love to read another piece for Stilgar ❤️!
Can I request a StilgarxReader, where the reader is a fellow Fedaykin of Sietch Tabr, that is part of Stilgars warrior group (born in the North, but open-minded for the prophecy of the Lisan Al Gaib)? They've known each other for a long time now and fought side by side multiple times but both of them never confessed their feelings to each other... UNTIL NOW?
Hey, hope you like 🤍!!
Sand path
Stilgar x fem!reader (fremen Fedaykin)
Word Count: 0,9K
Warning: mention of deaths
Naib - leader of a Fremen Sietch.
"You have to have more firmness in your arm." the deep voice with the thick southern accent spoke, making you sigh.
"You forget that I have fought by your side for years, Naib. And that my arm is very efficient." you replied, spinning the blade you held in your hands in the air.
You were in one of the cavernous corners of Sietch Tabr, designated for Fedaykin knife training. It wasn't used that much except by children, who still didn't have much of an idea of how to use it and were protected by adults. A persecuted and oppressed people did not really need to train in combat, the cowardly attacks on the Sietchs were enough.
You stopped moving the blade and turned to the Naib, Stilgar. The man was still wearing his stillsuit, which made it appear that he had just vacated. He led another attack on the Harkonnen harvesters and you were present, of course, the warriors had returned to Sietch and you took the opportunity to escape the eyes of others, hiding where there should have been training.
"I'm not complaining, just advising." he spoke again.
"Go take off your stillsuit." you replied.
"Have you lost respect for your leader?" he asked and you tilted your head to the side.
"It is out of respect for my leader that I am advising him to take off his stillsuit so it can be cleaned." you said in the same tone he had used before.
Stilgar's booming laughter filled the room and you gave a slight smile.
"You always have the answers on the tip of your tongue, woman." he says laughingly. "I like that about you."
You let out a light breath through your nose and sighed, returning to serious matters.
"Did many of our people die?"
"Some poor souls have left us, the rituals will begin soon." he replied, also sighing tiredly.
You just nodded, the attacks on the harvesters were more frequent now than most led by Muad'dib. Stilgar was a man of great faith and placed a lot of trust in young Atreides, he was born in the south so this was normal. It was difficult for northern people like you to believe in such things, but you also believed in the prophecy and so did the Sietch Tabr.
"When will the next attack happen?" you straightened your tunic.
"As soon as the harvesters return.”
The attack was more difficult this time, the Harkonnen had increased the number of soldiers and more Fedaykin had died, but the attack was successful. At one point in the fight you were almost fatally injured by one of the Harkonnen soldiers, but one of your companions Fedaykin managed to shoot him down.
The trip back to Sietch was done in silence, everyone too tired to celebrate the "victory", which seemed more like a defeat than a victory in fact. As soon as they descended from the worms, you immediately went to your yali, taking off your stillsuit and wiping the dirt off your body with a damp cloth.
Once you finished putting on your light tunic, you left and walked through the cavernous halls of the Sietch, sighing heavily.
"One of our companions told me what happened." Stilgar's southern accent sounded behind you. How did you not hear his footsteps?
"You should stop coming up behind me like that, Naib." you grumbled and turned to face him, seeing that he didn't have the light and playful expression he always had when talking to you.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not joking this time." he started again, taking a few steps closer. "I'm genuinely concerned."
"I'm serious too, Naib."
Stilgar took a few steps closer and took your hands in his. You felt your heart flutter quickly, it had been a long time since you looked at your leader, Stilgar was older, but incredibly handsome. You always wondered why he didn't take any wife, it was common for the leaders of Sietch to have wives, but Stilgar didn't. This kept a glimmer of hope alive in you, a very small hope, but it was soon crushed by reality. Stilgar had known you for years, you had fought side by side for years and he had never looked at you romantically, and if he had to choose a wife, he would certainly turn to some other woman, perhaps southern, like him.
"What are you doing, Naib?" you asked with a slightly trembling voice. Stilgar just lightly caressed your hands, equally calloused as his, although his were larger.
"I was so worried." The southern accent came out stronger with the confession. "I wanted to see you right away, but you always find a way to get out of sight."
"I'm fine, I didn't get hurt." you clarified, seeing him shake his head no.
"You're always so smart about everything, haven't you noticed yet?" his voice lowered slightly.
You raised your head and your eyes met his, you felt all the intensity and softness of his Naib, you knew better, you knew that his eyes said a lot. Stilgar's eyes said everything that needed to be said.
"Are you telling the truth?" you sighed, squeezing his hands tightly.
"I would never lie to you." he whispered.
"Naib..."
"Will you be my wife?" he blurted out suddenly, but he didn't seem sorry.
Your eyes widened slightly, Stilgar just smiled, making his face create slight wrinkles.
"It would be an honor to be your wife." you leaned over and rested your forehead against his.
#writing#writers on tumblr#dune fanfiction#fem reader#stilgar x reader#stilgar dune#stilgar x you#stilgar#dune
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Two Princesses - Chapter Nine: News.
Word Count: 1,1K
Warning: a little angst, mention of death, mention of bastardy.
note: a small chapter for the few people who read this story 🤍.
King's Landing
Sitting in a way that her back was curved forward and with her face buried in her hands, Ariella looked up when she heard the roar of a dragon in the distance. The hours passed quickly and it was getting dark again. When she noticed how long it took for someone to appear and the silence in the Keep, she was sure that Aegon had already been crowned.
She had tried to leave through the secret passage she had hidden behind a tapestry, but it was closed. Exhausted and distressed, Ariella decided to just sit and mourn, there was nothing more to be done.
When she heard a noise coming from the heavy tapestry, she looked up, slowly got up from the upholstered chair and walked with measured steps towards it. Only to gasp in surprise when she saw her personal maid come out from behind the heavy decorations in fits and starts.
"Claire!" she ran to the girl and hugged her tightly. "How did you get in?"
"Princess, write! Be quick, write something and I will send the raven." her eyes were slightly wide. "Ser Arryk helped Princess Rhaenys escape, I can't do the same but I can't let this betrayal go like this. Write something, tell your sister.”
Ariella let go of her and took a deep breath, then nodded and hurried to write a short and objective message, warning her sister and making it clear that she was not complicit in this. She never would be.
She finished and rolled up the small piece of paper and handed it to Claire, who was shaking slightly, the girl clutching the paper like her life depended on it.
"Thank you, I will never forget that, thank you." Ariella said as she held her hand tightly. Claire nodded, still wide-eyed, and quickly left through the same passage she had entered.
Two days had passed and Aemond had not appeared. Ariella received permission from the queen to leave the chambers, as long as she was accompanied by a guard.
Ariella was now almost constantly nervous, distressed. She worried about her sister and the rest of the family.
Claire no longer needed to sneak behind the tapestry, now she could enter the princess's room normally. She came every day, following the same routine they had before all the chaos started. Claire had someone who gave her information, information that she told Ariella, and the princess kept all the things that the younger girl told her. On any given day, Claire entered the princess's room to start her everyday routine.
Ariella looked up from the book she was reading and looked at her, seeing the girl in a pale state, with her eyes slightly wide, her hands shaking.
She walked towards the princess and she stood up, taking the poor girl's hands in hers. Claire swallowed and spoke. She spoke of the cursed act that took place.
Ariella felt her throat close and an almost unbearable pain in her chest, a burning that increased with each second. She looked into Claire's wide eyes without realizing that her own were also wide. She couldn't believe it, it seemed like a malicious lie told to make her sad, but she knew it was true, she shook Claire by the arms and the poor girl just shook her head, ensuring that she was relaying correct information, straight out of the small council room.
She didn't know when exactly Claire left her alone, she had sat down on the upholstered chair facing the fireplace and stared at the fire with wide eyes, she could still feel the tears running, hot, down her cheeks.
How could things have come to such an extreme in such a short period of time? Her nephew was alive a few days ago, and now... he was cruelly murdered at the hands of his uncle. She heard the door creak but didn't turn her head, she only recognized her husband's presence when he began to speak.
"I wanted to come to see you." he began, his voice sounded embarrassed, it made Ariella close her eyes and squeeze them tightly.
She heard the footsteps approaching the chair and stood up abruptly, turning to her husband. He looked the same as always, but at the same time she couldn't see him the same way anymore. It was still the same Aemond, same eyepatch, same platinum hair, same dark clothes. But he was no longer the husband or the same brother, he was a murderer.
Aemond clenched his fists when he saw the tear marks on her cheeks, he tried to take a few more steps closer, but she moved even further away, until she almost tripped over the fireplace.
"Don't come near me." she spat. "How dare you?"
"It was an accident, I swear-"
"You expect me to believe this? You've been stalking my nephew ever since the incident at Driftmark, you and your mother mocking his supposed bastardy." she continued, feeling increasingly out of breath. "Aemond, you cursed yourself."
She took a few slow steps towards him, watching him swallow hard.
"Kinslayer." she whispered as she got very close to him, their bodies almost touching. "I won't raise my hand to you, I won't dirty myself like that. I already got dirty enough when I agreed to get married and sleep with someone like you, one-eyed."
"Vhagar did not obey me."
"Ah, Vhagar." she scoffed. "You can't give orders to your dragon and you made fun of me so much for not having one."
Aemond grabbed her shoulders tightly.
"I didn't get my hands dirty, Vhagar didn't obey me!" he stated almost desperately. "The boy's dragon breathed fire at Vhagar and she didn't tolerate it, she didn't obey me when I told her to stop."
Ariella managed to move until she freed herself from her husband's grip, then looked at him, her eyes were red from recent crying.
"Kinslayer." she reaffirmed. "For me you are no longer my husband, I will not have my name linked to someone cursed."
She turned her back and huddled back in the chair, pulling her legs to her chest. She remained silent until she heard the door slam, signaling that her husband had left. Her mind turned to her sister. Rhaenyra.
Dragonstone
Rhaenyra's body shook slightly from crying, she was safe in the darkness of her chambers. She had one of Luke's linen shirts in her hands, she held it close to her chest, the scent of her sweet boy was still present on the cloth.
Wiping away her tears she got up from the large bed and walked to the table present in her quarters, picking up again the piece of paper her sister sent her. Your sister. Rhaenyra's brow furrowed in sadness again and another wave of tears was about to fall, but she held them back.
She wanted her son back, she wanted her sister by her side, she wanted her father to be alive. Why did her life have to be ruined like this?
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