#dune request

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N: Hello my little doves! Sorry for keeping you waiting. Let me know what you think, love you all xx PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT TO TAG YOU!

Warnings: Baron pissing me off.

Words: 3.030K

Chapter Ten ‘’Escaping the Baron’’

The preparations were made for Feyd to leave Giedi Prime to Arrakis. Everything happened so fast after that blissful night with his wife…

His things were packed without his command, his soldiers, advisors and servants were leaving the planet to make sure once Feyd leaves his home planet he can be greeted in a suitable way. He found himself outside of the fortress, in the courtyard, His uncle was in his floating device, his wife was standing close to his uncle in a black dress, he knew why she wore that velvet black dress, she was mourning his leave and it frustrated him. He came up with plans to take her with him but that would draw too much unwanted attention. The second he shows affection to Y/N and she would be in grave danger. Her face was covered with a black veil, she was standing straight, hands clasped.

‘’Finish the job your brother started.’’ Baron spoke, his voice echoing in the courtyard by speakers he installed into his floating device, ‘’Kill every Fremen if needed be.’’ He tilted his device to give a dominant kiss to his nephew, it was their custom and Feyd hated every second of it. When he bid farewell to his uncle he turned to his wife, he had to be extra careful. He approached with his stoic expression, lifted her veil with both of his hands and there she was with shiny eyes and frustrated look.

‘’Farewell, Wife.’’ He said, his voice was colder than ice, it cut her deep but she knew why.

‘’Farewell, Husband.’’ Thanks to her Bene Gesserit training she was good at acting. ‘’I hope to meet my first born when I come back.’’ He said it so that his uncle could hear that the only thing Feyd cares is having a strong lineage. With his peripheral vision he could see the smirk on the Baron’s extremely pale face.

Feyd turned and bowed to his uncle for the last time and turned to the ship which was waiting for him. He left his heart and hopes behind.

The following days for Y/N was harder than expected, every morning Baron’s private doctor came to check if she was pregnant or not, thankfully Feyd mentioned about this before, the reason why the doctor didn’t come after their wedding was that Feyd postponed it for her, how thoughtful he was…

She portrayed a perfect persona to the Baron and his spies, she was sending messages to her family and her Bene Gesserit friends, especially the Reverend Mother. She knew that her messages were being read so in every message she mentioned how much she appreciates the Harkonnens and especially the Baron’s kind gestures. However, someone like Reverend Mother and Jessica could read between the lines, Bene Gesserit developed a method to hide secrets between the lines. Baron thought she was just a silly little girl who is missing her family and friends and that’s why she was sending letters every day, the truth was that she was writing reports of what happens to her and her surroundings every single day. Feyd told her to wait for his message and she was waiting day and night. A week after Feyd’s departure Rabban came back to Giedi Prime. He was more sour than usual since he couldn’t control Arrakis and the spice production. Baron greeted him coldly and looked at him as if he stepped on a cockroach, she could see Rabban’s pale blue eyes landing on her, he was a simple man so it was easy to read him. He wasn’t going to do anything just yet, he was planning something.. at this point it was anyone’s game.

When she learned that she was pregnant with Feyd’s child she was sitting by the couch in her living room, her maids standing behind her, the doctor smiling wickedly, she knew as soon as the doctor leaves he was going to run to the Baron to deliver the news, ‘’Since you are from Bene Gesserit it is best for her ladyship to make the baby’s gender boy. House Harkonnen would be pleased.’’ He was basically saying that she had no choice but to give birth to a son. Thankfully she still had some time to change the baby’s gender in her womb. It had been the 5th week of Feyd’s departure and still he didn’t send any letters or messages to her, she was getting worried, ‘’Any news of my husband?’’ she asked the doctor hoping that he might know something. The doctor was packing his things, she noticed the slight shake in his hands, he didn’t turn to her, ‘’Unfortunately I do not possess any knowledge of our Na-Baron.’’ He explained without addressing her sitting figure, ‘’Thank you doctor.’’ She said kindly and watched him leave her chambers. She bolted to her feet when he left, she turned to her trusted girls, ‘’I have a feeling that my husband has been sending letters to me and someone is hiding them from me,’’ she began she was pacing in the room in her satin gold dress, her bouncy hair was falling from her shoulders. ‘’My lady.’’ The old maid she brought with her spoke, ‘’If your worries are true, we are here to help you.’’ They all bowed to her, she felt the overwhelming emotions of gratitude and hope washing over her like the waves in Caladan.

Ever since she learned she was pregnant she was debating whether or not she should sent a letter informing him about the pregnancy.

Baron wasn’t the only one who had spies, Y/N trained her small group of maids the ways of learning information and unraveling the secrets, after few days one of her maids came to her and told her that Feyd-Rautha’s letters were directly going to the Baron’s room and the maid could snatch one of the them which was sent to Y/N. Y/N gracefully thanked the young girl and dismissed her, later she immediately opened the crystal tablet which consisted of Feyd-Rautha’s handwriting.

‘’My dear wife,

My days in Arrakis have been occupied with never ending strategies, spice production and making sure Fremen rebels are under control. I have a hectic schedule and yet here I am thinking of you and your well-being every second. This is the 5th letter I am writing to you and I do not know why you don’t have time to write me back but thankfully my people keep informing me of your state. You are healthy, and thriving with your maids surrounding you. It seems like I will be here for a year, cleaning Rabban’s mess.

Please write to me as soon as possible.

Yours faithfully, your husband Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.’’

Tears covered her eyes, if this was the 5th then he must have been writing to her every week and waiting for an answer… ‘’Damn you Baron!’’ she cursed under her breath, she lit the fire place and destroyed the letter, she had to. She couldn’t afford someone finding it. She knew very well that if she wrote a letter it won’t reach to him so she had to come up with a plan. Thankfully she had excuse, Irulan was inviting her to spend some time with her, she left her chambers and marched to the Baron’s.

He was playing chess with the doctor when his guards let her in. This was the first time she saw his living room, it was covered in spice carpets and pillows, it was colorful than she had anticipated.

‘’My Baron.’’ She bowed,  waiting for his raspy reply, ‘’Lady Y/N, it is lovely to see you here. Oh, forgive me, congratulations. I cannot wait to see Feyd’s first born son.’’ It was a threat, if she gave birth to a girl then her life would be in danger. She unconsciously placed her hand on her stomach, ‘’Have no worries Baron, I am eager to give birth to strong sons.’’ She had to play to his ego and he seemed pleased. ‘’Please, sit.’’ He gestured near a chair and she sat. ‘’Do tell Lady Y/N, what brought you to my chambers.’’ She noticed how focused the doctor was, listening to them. ‘’Princess Irulan has sent me a letter, inviting me to her domain.’’  Baron pretended like he had no idea, ‘’Oh, what a generous invitation.’’ He commented. ‘’I would love to visit her and my family before my pregnancy hinders me from any activities.’’ She sounded calm, if she showed too much interest then Baron would suspect something.

‘’I’m afraid I cannot allow that.’’

Her ears were ringing.

She used a Bene Gesserit technique to calm her nerves. ‘’May I ask why?’’

Baron’s eyes were glued to the chess table, trying to beat the doctor, ‘’Since your husband isn’t here I am responsible for you and my nephew’s offspring. If something were to happen to you, how would I answer to my dear Feyd?’’

She stood up gracefully, ‘’I understand. Thank you for your time.’’ To that Baron only nodded and continued his chess game. As she was leaving she promised to herself that one way or another she was going to escape.

Her feet took her outside and to the courtyard and to the green house Feyd had built it for her, it was the most kindest gesture anyone has made for her.. full of her favorite flowers and plants. As soon as she walked in she slammed the door and noticed that she was breathing inside. That place was her haven and only place she could breath in this hostile planet. How she wished to be in Arrakis, in the middle of the desert instead of being in the hands of Baron. She sat on one of the wooden benches, closed her eyes and took deep breaths in and out and she was calm again. She remembered that night when Feyd brought her here.. it was magical. ‘’We still have a chance.’’ She said and when she opened her eyes she had a scheme to get out of here.

Every Friday cargoes from Arrakis would come and bring spice to Giedi Prime, Baron was directly stealing from the Emperor. The cargo ships would come at night and after the guards collect the boxes filled with the spice they would leave again. This transaction only took 15 minutes, they were fast and well coordinated so she had to be quick. She only had three days, all night she studied the cargo ship’s design and the palace which the Harkonnes had built in Arrakis 80 plus years ago.

Arrakis was a complete strange place, she grew up in planets which had forests, ocean, flowers and plants but Arrakis only had the desert, huge rocks for Sieches and the Harkonnen palace. The Fremens had their own language, had their own style of fashion… she had limited amount of time to learn as much as she could.

She spent her day time as usual, not attracting any eyes, she had breakfast, wandered in the fortress, had conversations with servants, politicians. She was going to leave alone, she didn’t dare to put her maids in danger.

On Friday an invitation came from Baron, he would like to dine with her in the evening, she couldn’t refuse but she also didn’t want to delay her departure any longer. She came up with a plan, thanks to her Bene Gesserit programming she could predict the outcome of every plan and situation. She rubbed her stomach in a loving way, ‘’We are Atreides, we survive.’’ She whispered to her baby, her trainings made her be aware of everything and sense everything, she could feel her baby, it was a warm feeling.

In the evening she was dressed by her maids, as usual. Her dress was black, it was the color of Harkonnens, her dress was modest with long sleeves, she was escorted to one of the small dining halls, the great fortress had multiple dining halls, ball rooms etc. As the black metal doors opened she saw the Baron, in his chair, at the head of the table which held various types of dishes. He was an extravagant man when it came to food. ‘’Lady Y/N, excuse me I cannot stand. Please do be seated.’’ His raspy voice sent waves of negativity to her but she had to endure. ‘’Thank you Baron.’’ She replied and sat close to him, ‘’No other guests Baron?’’ she asked intrigued, she thought the table would be crowded. ‘’I don’t have the mental state to deal with guests.’’ He started eating and she looked at her plate, it smelled delicious, ‘’You must eat Lady Y/N for you are with child.’’

‘’Yes Baron.’’ And she began eating, the room had white glowglobes, she preferred yellow or orange lights, the fire place was lit, lately it was cold. ‘’I must add,’’ he began, his pale blue eyes were on food he was eating and the food he wanted to eat… it was disgusting. She lifted her head to address him, ‘’my nephew has been sending me letters of his well-being and the state he is in. Arrakis is under our control, thankfully.’’ He was a jerk, he was implying that Feyd was sending him letters and not her but it wasn’t true, Baron was keeping the letters he had sent for his wife. ‘’Oh,’’ she began, pretending like she had no idea, ‘’I do sincerely hope that my husband is healthy and is taken care of.’’ She made her voice sorrowful, just like Baron expected it… a dumb girl who fell in love with his nephew.

‘’He is very well and he has great company by his side.’’ She immediately understood his intention, he was hinting that Feyd had women warming his bed, she felt her stomach turn but didn’t flinch. They kept eating, she listened to his Harkonnen family stories, she was good at detecting which information he was keeping a secret or altering but his next words were something she didn’t expect it.

‘’After all… Feyd was the one who murdered his dear mother Emmi Rabban.’’

Her mind went to the day she had discovered the old book of Harkonnen lineage.

Emmi Rabban; Matricide

Baron chuckled in satisfaction when he saw her face fell, ‘’Would you like to know why dear Na-Baroness?’’ he was daring tonight, she blinked few times but composed herself, ‘’Maybe I will tell you one day.’’ He laughed hard this time, she couldn’t sit there anymore, her stomach was turning and she was about to throw up. ‘’Excuse me Baron, I would like to retire to my chambers.’’ She bolted to her feet, he laughed again and licked his thick fingers, ‘’You may Na-Baroness. Sleep tight.’’

Y/N didn’t remember how she left that dining hall but on her way to her chambers she stopped to throw up, the guards who saw her came for help but she stopped them with the rise of her hand, ‘’I’m fine, go back to your duties and find someone to clean this mess.’’ She said and she quickly went back to her chambers, she didn’t have much time if she wanted to leave right now. She quickly changed into pants and tunic, tied up her hair and got a small bag with her which she prepared, the fortress was silent just like every other night. She choose the desolated halls of the fortress to be safe. Her heart eas beating in her throat and ears, she remembered the night she tried to escape Feyd and he pulled a great game, it was her time now.

The cargo ships were landing outside of the fortress but near it for carrying them inside, she walked in the shadows of the garden, if one could call it a garden… it was just an open space with pale white marble floors. Outside smelled like a factory pipe, they have destroyed the nature of the planet, only few small forests remained in this huge landscape.

A cold breeze touched her body and made her shiver, she held her headscarf and continued walking, everywhere had guards but it was shift changing hour so she had few minutes to climb over the black walls, she climbed the small tree which was planted in a marble pot, later she lifted her left leg and pushed herself on top, she was sitting on the wall now, she had to jump and roll. She took a deep breath, rubbed her stomach, she might lose her baby after this jump but she had to. From her trusted resources she had found out that Baron’s plan was to toss her aside as soon as she gives birth. Y/N took a deep breath and as she predicted she rolled on the stone floor to make the impact softer than normal. Her ankle was hurt when she stood up, she had to keep her mouth shut, she wanted to scream but didn’t dare. She was limping, she knew she had few scratches but she kept going. She could see the cargo ships landing, soldiers walking to collect the harvest, she was hiding behind a metal box, watching soldiers and memorizing their movements, they were like robots, same faces, uniforms and movements. She easily moved behind the shadows and when the boxes of spice were taken and the cargo ships were empty she had few seconds to get in before the hatch closed off. She looked around, soldiers were occupied with the boxes, no one paid mind to the empty cargo ships and she did her move. She made sure her head, hair was covered, one could only see her deep eyes.

As she sneaked into the empty ship she came face to face with a bald headed and bulky soldier, they both froze and her training paid off. Before the solider could alert the others she used the voice on him.

‘’You didn’t see me.’’ She looked at the box he had, ‘’You only came here to get the boxes out and your job is finished, this conversation never happened.’’

He looked like was in trans, he carried the box outside and never looked back and the hatch of the ship closed.

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[feirceangel]

How about a feyd x reader where feyd has reader watch him in the arena to gain her favor. She is impressed with him and respects his prowess. Just before a huge match what if she goes to him and leaves a hand print in paint over his heart as her token rather than a sash like the others. This fires him up/ looks super cool on his skin.

Ooh I love this!! I did my own spin on it but I hope you still enjoy! :)

Imagine | Stained (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Word Count: 1,377

Warnings: biting

Cheers rise into the polluted air on Giedi Prime, a torrent of frenzied noise which alerts you to the occurrence of yet another gladiatorial event.

You hadn't realized there would be one today. Normally, you notice the announcements and the crowds gathering to go see the festivities. You don't often join them.

Watching people fight to death. . . it's not a habit of yours.

Lately though, you've noticed how often Feyd has been mentioning his fights, never outright asking you to watch them but leaving plenty of hints.

Being from a wealthy family has its benefits, especially on a harsh place such as this. Ever since you've been here, you've tried to make the best of it and befriend as many native Harkonnens as you can.

This first, and dare you say only, friend-adjacent connection you've made has been with Feyd-Rautha.

His brother is too animalistic and angry for your liking, and the Baron is a ghastly man you do not like to interact with. Servants won't speak to you and the Mentat Piter is sickening in his sadistic tendencies.

So, to your surprise, you got to know Feyd the best out of them all.

He's brutal, yes. Menacing and violent as well.

And so alone.

Sure, he has his concubines: his pets that he plays with but soon grows bored of. And yes, he has his mockery of a family: a predatory uncle and a nasty brother.

Yet you can see past his façade of aloofness, see into his inner self. And what you see is a man forged by others into what he is now.

You see a hurting man who doesn't know anything close to true kindness.

So yes, he is wild and vicious. But there is an intelligence and cunning within those dark eyes that you have seen countless times. 

He's constantly observing, waiting for his moment to strike. He knows how to play his hand to benefit himself.

Despite his more undesirable traits, you'd dare call him a friend.

The cheering dies down as colourless fireworks burst in the air like ink stains. You watch them, casually leaning against the balcony railing.

Feyd finds you immediately, half undressed and still painted for fighting in the triangular colosseum.

"My lady," he rasps, approaching from behind slowly. "You did not watch the fights."

"It slipped my mind," you reply honestly. "Though I have no doubts you remain the champion, my lord."

His lips quirk upwards, "Naturally."

Your eyes roam over his blood splattered body, taking in the well-defined muscles which are decorated with paint. He's shirtless, how could you not stare?

He basks in your attention, cocky smirk never leaving his face. But it strains once you turn your attention away.

Feyd comes to lean against the rail beside you. You feel his eyes on you.

"You're coming to the next fight," he finally says once he realizes you're content to dwell in the silence.

You turn to face him with a smile, "Am I?"

His eyes narrow, voice quick and sharp, "Yes."

"You didn't ask."

Feyd tilts his head, "It's not a request."

"A command, my lord?"

"Yes," he repeats, leaning closer into your space. Your teasing tone is getting under his skin, you can tell. He's almost touching you now but you don't retreat.

This is the game you play.

"I suppose I can attend the next fight," you hum thoughtfully.  "Especially since you've requested it personally."

He backs away slowly and you force yourself into staying still even as you desire to chase after him. His close proximity is intoxicating.

As if he senses your inner battle, he grins and nods to you before sauntering away.

"I will put on a good show for you, my lady."

You find yourself alone, wishing he had stayed longer.

~~~

It was not mentioned again, and now you find yourself in your room preparing for the event. You dress modestly, still unaccustomed to the fashions on Giedi Prime. A black dress does nicely, with your hair loose. 

You still have plenty of time before your attendance is necessary, but you traverse to the arena despite this. The hallways are as colorless as everywhere else, a maze of black and white. 

Feyd is being dressed as you enter the room. His sharp eyes betray a smidge of surprise which he masks underneath an air of haughtiness. 

The servants attending him walk on eggshells, knowing that any wrong move could cause their demise. 

"You may be dismissed," you say, addressing the servants. 

Their eyes flicker to you with uncertainty. The servants do not move until Feyd snarls, "Do as she says!"

Instantly, they are gone. 

And it's just you and the warrior. 

You approach him slowly, picking up the paint pot that the servant abandoned. Circling him, you note how his eyes never leave you, even when he has to twist his head to keep you in his sights. 

"My lord, I hope you can forgive my impertinence, showing up here unannounced."

"Don't be coy," he narrows his eyes, "You're not sorry."

"You're right," you chuckle, swirling the paintbrush through the inky paint. "I'm not sorry to see you, especially like this." 

You rake your eyes over his flesh, barely concealed by a cloth wrapped around his waist. He is truly a fine specimen of a man. 

"May I?" You ask, stopping in front of him. 

He inclines his head. He hadn't been expecting this, since you seemed intent on avoiding the fights entirely. 

You begin by painting the smaller rectangles across his chest and then move to his back. Your brushstrokes are slow, methodic.

He anticipates each cool touch as you meticulously paint his flawless skin. He wishes it was your touch he was feeling, your hands against his skin. He craves it.

Next, you adorn his abdomen, barely concealing the excitement you feel being this close to him. As you finish, he reaches for his clothes but you stop him with a hand on his arm. 

"I'm not finished, my lord."

Intrigued, he returns his arm to his side, staring you down. 

You coat the palm of your right hand with the inky black liquid, never breaking eye contact with Feyd. He doesn't stop you as you press your hand against his warm chest, right where his heart would be. 

You start to pull away, but he is quick to grip your wrist, keeping you in place. For a second, you are concerned that you went too far. Maybe this is the day he kills you for your insolence?

Instead, he lunges forward, catching you in a hungry kiss. He bites and takes, and you surrender with ease. A sense of relief and excitement floods your senses as you kiss back just as passionately.  

"It is fitting," he says once he parts from you. 

He watches as you slowly peel your hand from his skin, leaving a perfect handprint over his heart. 

"What is?"

"That you should mark me like this," he grins to reveal blackened teeth. "You are a stain on my heart."

"How so?" You're still breathless, allured by his gravelly voice. 

"All it longs for is your touch, you vixen."

You caress his cheek, "I'm just marking what I own. And once you're declared the victor, you can come claim what's yours." 

Your words ignite a fire in him and he starts forward but you step back. 

His glare is venomous, as if you just deprived him of oxygen. 

"You have a fight to win, Feyd. Shouldn't you be preparing?"

Turning, you begin to walk away. 

A rough hand snatches your shoulder, and a hot mouth is on your neck before you can blink. He bites down harshly, drawing spots of blood. The pain is expected when dealing with a man like Feyd, but it is still surprising. 

You really have gotten under his skin. 

He releases the pressure of his teeth and drags his tongue over the wound. 

"You needed a mark too, my sweet."

You turn and press a chaste kiss to the top of his head, "Go make me proud, Feyd. I shall see you in your chambers after the fight."

He lets you leave, watching with blood stained lips. 

"As you command, so it shall be."

[please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!]

[fishalthor]

Constantine + spice - requested by anonymous

[saintsalia]

-Dune, Frank Herbert

[sacrificiallane]

﹙'old' c.ai bot masterlist (updated 20/08/24)﹚

new c.ai masterlist

PERCY JACKSON / pjo scary? my god you're divine obsessed with his ex helping with your fears having lukes mindset soulmates in every universe? lazy summer afternoon love/hate relationship he's being mean spidery scares / athena kid!user pls just heal him / apollo kid!user ' daddy issues / ares kid!user good, more water… campfire drinking you're hurt, he's a dork lipstick stains popstar!user

LUKE CASTELLAN / pjo don't look at him like that friends to lovers rite of passage gift of prophecy he's just the better swordsman 'painting' on his back playing house stepbro!Luke is mean / mdni his hands / mdni

AEGON II TARGARYEN / hotd giving birth to his firstborn rooks rest his heart belongs to you trying to teach him high valyrian he's bored, give him attention being 'gifted' with seeing all is fair in love and war wedded at last bene gesserit!user on the iron throne / mdni blood and cheese / tw: blood, getting stabbed talking nonsense / pregnant!user

LUCERYS VELARYON / hotd you're everything, and he's just Luke dinner and diatribes saving him from the tides can't remember who he is i will crawl home to her i miss you, i'm sorry he's sick

JACAERYS VELARYON / hotd he wants a baby / mdni avy jorrāelan / pregnant!user

FEYD RAUTHA HARKONNEN / dune he's trying to comfort you he doesn't know why he bites

MATTHEO RIDDLE / hp tending to him he loves the smiths you're wasted

VINCE DUNN / celeb he got into a fight rude interviews you have baby fever

AARON HOTCHNER / cm storage room you wont let him rest / nsfw

RICK GRIMES / twd poor thing au, immune!user two au, immune!user three

♡ rules // new list

[haveyouseenthismovie-poll]

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Desert Storm

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Fremen Reader

NSFW 18+- MINORS WHO INTERACT CAN AND WILL BE BLOCKED.

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…”

[periodcostumefantasylover]

Lady Jessica's yellow dress & veil in Dune Part 1

requestet by anon

[winniethewife]

So imagine: your mom used to be Grandpa Atreides' concubine. You continue the tradition by becoming Leto's concubine. Because if smth stays in the family it's Atreides' dick 😜

Thank you Fran for the request. Here's to hoping that this is the beginning of the Mom's best friend fic take over.

There's a gravity pulling at our hearts

(Duke Leto x Reader)

Warnings: Age gap relationship

Words:519

She sat in her room in Castle Caladan, A place she had spent her life wandering the halls. Shortly after she was born her father had died, and her mother was chosen to be the Dukes concubine, a gesture of kindness from the late Duke.  She had grown up there, watching her mother attend to her duties from the sidelines, and now she had taken on the same duties for the new Duke of Caladan. Leto Atreides. She had known him her whole life, he was about her mother’s age, and the two of them had been quite close throughout her mother’s time as his father’s concubine, something that almost no one had heard of. Somehow this unusual friendship lead to her placement in the Atreides house. Just then the escort arrived.

It was time.

Her first appearance as Duke Atreides concubine was today. She stood and let the silk fabric of her dress fall around her body, her hands smooth the down the fabric as she takes careful steps to her destination, her hands tremble in nervousness as she walks through the halls of the castle she used to run through. As she approached the great hall, where the nobility of Caladan had arrived for the event. She knew that the holiday they were celebrating had immense cultural significance, but with how much focus had been on her the last few days she felt like the focus would be entirely on her. Something she had to not let go to her head. She entered the grandly decorated hall to see a sea of familiar faces, and some unfamiliar, But there was one face in particular she was looking for, Standing among his advisors across the room in his full regalia, Leto Atreides. As if he sensed her eyes on him he turned to look at her, a warm smile on the older man’s face as he excused himself from the conversation, crossing the room to greet her, drawing the attention of all who saw him.

“You look perfect. As beautiful as your mother, if not more so.” He said gently taking her hand in his, lifting it to press a kiss to her knuckles. A warm feeling radiated through her, like the sun shining on the back of ones neck on a warm day. She returns the smile.

“Thank you, My duke.” She spoke softly suddenly aware of the attention they were drawing. Leto chuckled slightly at the hint of nervousness in her voice.

“For once, you are the center of attention my dear, No longer can you hide in your mothers skirts or attempt to become one with the shadows. You are a bright star, guiding the way.” Leto said with reverence, a fondness in his dark eyes. A fondness she was quite familiar with. As the night progressed her practiced mannerisms and knowledge of the court made her stand out from many of the other young women her age in attendance, but no one was surprised. Her mother had taught her well and she had earned her place by the side of the Duke of Caladan.

~

Masterlist

Taglist: @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

[therainywriter]

Na-Baron (Suggestive)

Pairing: Feyd Rautha x Reader

So sweet and polite, you didn’t belong in a place like this.

Everyone around you was a scum, a lying piece of filth that would only use that innocence to their own benefit.

You knew this, you weren’t ignorant, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to treat them as they did you, as low as it made you feel.

Fear kept you quiet and respectful as well. All it took was one slip up, and no matter how little you’d be begging for your life.

You’re the newest addition to the Harkonnen’s house, a servant for the Na-Baron, Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. They never enlightened you on what happened to the previous chambermaid, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

Some things were best kept unheard of, especially in this treacherous place.

You kept your head down, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the perfect women around you. They all were beautiful, delicate with a smooth complexion.

Much like their shared appearance, their lack of joy was all the same. At times they seemed almost lifeless, their souls worn down and stripped of any hope for a better life.

Sadness for them bit at your chest, this was no way to live.

Feyd watched you with an unreadable gaze, and though he paid you little regard, his eyes were always searching for yours.

He observed the way you shifted in your stance, fingers intertwining behind your back as you grew nervous. How easy it was to make you squirm.

You hadn’t thrown yourself at him like the others, offering your body as means to please him. They all were so eager, but you- you shied away from him.

In the halls you always pay notice to him with a small smile before bowing your head down, eyes glued to the floor as you passed by.

It drove him insane that such a meek little being could push him to madness.

His eyes hardened and grew dark, he wanted to ruin you, to corrupt you entirely, to own your very existence. Then, perhaps he would see you as he does every other woman in this house.

The day passed slowly and before you knew it you were rounding the corner to the Na-Barons chamber.

You moved quickly, knocking a couple of times before entering when you heard no reply. His room was always clean, pristine even.

It was his training quarters that constantly seemed to be splattered with blood and laden with needle sharp weapons.

You clean the knives first, washing the somewhat fresh crimson off with a worrisome mind.

You always wondered whose blood was spilled. The rational part of your brain knew they were discarded in a bag somewhere, but you could only hope that they didn’t face their end at his hands.

Feyd watched in the doorway as your hands halted their cleaning, your mind was elsewhere, eyes staring distantly as a familiar red swirled down the drain.

“Careful,” his coarse voice insincerely warned.

You jumped, finger sliding against the edge of the knife, skin splitting like butter on the blade. You gasped and pulled your hand back, a loud clink meeting your ears as it fell into the sink.

With a tsk, he moved toward you, holding back a smirk at your wide eyes. “I told you to be careful.”

You gulped, “Forgive me, Na-Baron- you startled me..”

He now stood in front of you, his hand reached for your wounded one. It took every fiber in your body to not fight against him.

Dark, sullen irises stared into your own as he let your blood flow from your finger to his. There was a malicious glint in his eye that made you want to cower away.

“Na-Baron, wha-“ your words halted in your throat as he stuck your finger in his mouth.

His tongue swirled against your lacerated flesh, sucking gently as he coaxed more irony syrup from the cut.

Your skin burned where his hand held your wrist, his long digits wrapping around it so effortlessly. He was enjoying this, his eyes shut as he hummed at the taste.

Your insides twisted at his unhygienic yet somehow intimate behavior. You liked it.

You nearly crumpled at the realization, burning shame coursing through you.

He only drew closer when you tried to pull away, his lean body pressing you against the sink. Your heartbeat was hammering in your ears, mind hazy at his sudden proximity.

His mouth released its hold on your index finger, black tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“There’s something about you,” he said, voice laced with slight irritation, eyes sharp and piercing.

He was enjoying this too much, playing around with you. He wanted to wrap his hands around your pretty neck and choke you until you told him why.

But he didn’t. No- he rather pressed closer, knee sliding between your thighs, lips skimming along your cheek.

Your breath hitched, body tense as you couldn’t possibly lean back anymore. Your brain was screaming for you to run, but you couldn’t.

His hand gripped your jaw, and lips moved to yours, ghosting over the warm skin. His eyes locked onto yours, “Tell me,” he purred against your mouth, “are you scared?”

“Yes,” you responded, voice hushed and small.

At this, he grinned. Black teeth shining at you as he chuckled, the sound low and disgustingly attractive.

He was pleased with your response, and before you could so much as blink, had the knife you’d been cleaning pressed at your abdomen.

“Good,” he said lowly, “always be afraid.”

Your brows slightly knit together in both conflict and confusion.

His lips pressed against yours, tongue forcing itself into your mouth as he kissed you. You moaned against his mouth, leaning up for more when he pulled away.

“Do as you were,” he ordered, twirling the blade between his fingers as he left the room.

Your lips were puffy and mind in disarray, what cruel game he was playing at?

[loomis-maxima]

Can you please write a Feyd fic where he and the reader have had dreams of each other but while she was his dream girl, he was her nightmare.

oh this would be so interesting to write because the feyd fic i'm working on right now, she's so down for his shit so i actually love this so much. hell yes

[shegatsby]

Look I'm back on HOTD shit agains, so i was thinking Feyd Rautha reunited with like an aunt figure (or just an older oc/reader), who he's been fascinated by since he was a child. And she's all like domineering and assertive bcz yk she's older so she feels superior

A/N: Hi! Thank you for this request, i enjoyed writing it. Sorry its a bit late because i had some things to do in my personal life. xx

Warnings: None!

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen woke up in his bed chambers next to his darlings, he had arranged his bed to make him and three of his darlings to fit perfectly, the Black Sun of Giedi Prime's started to rise and turn everything pure white or jet black, no other colors. There was a reason his body woke him up earlier than usual. His mother's older sister, aunt Y/N Rabban was coming to Giedi Prime after years of departure. When Rabban killed their father Abulurd Rabban (who took his wife Emmi's last name due to the fact that he detested his own blood, the Harkonnens) his mother driven crazy and his aunt Y/N came for revenge, if it wasn't for Baron Vladimir Rabban would be dead, Feyd smiled sinisterly with the thought, if aunt Y/N's wish came true today there would be a whole different Giedi prime and House Harkonnen.... Feyd's chest got warmer with the idea of ruling House Harkonnen with his aunt. How he wished to make that dream come true...

He bolted to his feet to order his servants to run him a bath, he had to look sharp because he had a woman who he wanted to please.

After his bath he got dressed in black, head to toe, his black leather boots gave him an intimidating look which he liked. He looked at himself in the mirror, he was a boy when Y/N departed in defeat and now he was a man grown. He wore a broche which was a grey dolphin, the symbol of House Rabban. His uncle was going to be unsettled but he didn't care. He even smiled at his reflection, taking a great pleasure just picturing his uncle's face.

He left his bedchambers, marching towards the throne room, she was going to be there any moment, his steps grew quicker, when aproached the black doors the guards opened the doors for him to enter and he did.

His uncle Baron Vladimir Harkonnen was there, seated on his obsidian throne, on his left Glossu Rabban was placed, looking like a statue, not moving a muscle, such a great dog.

''Uncle.'' he bowed to show respect, Baron's icy blue eyes immediately focused on the broche Feyd was wearing proudly, his face showed no reactin and yet his eyes darkened for a split second.

''Dear nephew, please.'' he motioned to his right side, which earned a glance from Glossu Rabban, Feyd was chosen to be the ''Na-Baron'' it meant that he was the one who was going to govern and be the Baron of his house, not Rabban. Feyd new that deep down Rabban was resenting this situation.

He stood on his uncle's right side, facing the front, the stairs and the open area, and they heard an announcment;

''Y/N Rabban from House Rabban.''

Feyd shivered with the announcment, he remembered her as an extraordinary woman who stood up to Baron Vladimir, at the time -and still- no one could do something like that.

First they heard determined foot steps on the grey marble floor, and then she appeared, her head high, her body language dominant, her hair started to grey but it gave her a more alluring aura. Her blue and orange colored dress clung to her womanly figure, there was a specifi choice there on her dress, blue and orange were the colors of House Rabban. Even though the house didn't exist anymore she was showning that her bloodline didn't end. Also Feyd's dolphin broche made hem complete.

She approached to the stairs and bowed, but not in a deep regular way, it was quick and simple, ''Baron Harkonnen.'' she greeted,

''Lady Y/N Rabban, years have taken nothing from your beauty.'' he commented, she looked up, her eyes lingering on Rabban and Feyd for a second and then the Baron, ''You are too kind.'' She began, her answers were short yet elegant and womanly, ''Tell me,'' Baron spoke, ''Why have you requested to come back?''

Her eyes found Feyd, he was only six years old when she left, and now he was a man. ''I had time to reflect on my actions, after years of lonliness I have decided that I would like to be with my family again.'' she said and looked a Feyd again, deep into his eyes

''You are all I have.''

Baron nodded in exchange, ''You will have a life which suits a Lady, I promise that.'' she bowed again, ''I would like to retreat to my chambers, the journey was long and tiresome.''

Servants had already set her old chambers, sh knew the way so she refused the servants' help and walked on her own, it was a plot, she knew that Feyd would visit her and she didn't want servants to see it.

Her room was barren mostly, a bed, table with two chairs, a balcony and bathroom, she knew Baron would be two faced but she didn't care. She sat on one of the chairs and waited till Feyd knocked on her door.

''Come in.''

And the black metal door opened, there he was, now that he was getting close to her Feyd was nervous, but he didn't want to admit it.

''Hello aunt.'' he managed to say with his raspy voice, his hands behind his back, Y/N stood up gracefully, took a step towards him, if Feyd could he could rip his heart, get on his knees and offer it to her. That's what she meant to him.

''How I have missed you.'' she said, Feyd was the first one to approach, and they hugged each other, he smelled fresh and manly she liked it.

When they parted she smiled, ''Look at you, my Na-Baron.''

''You know?'' he asked curiously, ''Of course, even though I was away I kept my servants bring news of you. Congrats my love.''

She could see the intensity in his ocean eyes, he had so many questions to ask, ''Why did you come back aunt?''

''Like I have said to the Baron.'' her eyes focused on his broch, she reached to touch it, ''It was a touching explanation but I'm your blood, be honest with me.''

She smiled, and hugged him again and as they hugged she whispered, ''Not here.'' she knew Baron most likely placed bugs to listen her 24/7. She spoke loudly this time, ''I have missed my family.''

Feyd could feel his entire body shiver, he could read the blood thurst in her eyes, she was after revenge and he was going to help her to achieve it. A vision came to his mind's eyes, he was holding Y/N's hand, he could see his sıbjects applause in frenzy, celebrating a new era.

Thank you for reading. :)

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Bright Lights - Timothée Chalamet X Female Reader

Title: Bright Lights

Timothée Chalamet X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Zendaya (Mentioned), Denise Villeneuve (Mentioned), Cynthia: your manager (Mentioned), Jody: the interviewer, and your adoring fans (Mentioned)

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 2,363

Warnings: Reader is mentioned wearing a dress, celebrity Reader, Reader is mentioned to have anxiety, nicknames, secret relationship, slightly suggestive, very small angst, and fluff

Your eyes were closed, your breathing slow and deep as you concentrated on your said breathing. You fiddled with the fabric of your attire, a black dress that you were wearing for the red carpet premiere of ‘Dune: Part 2.’ You had played the lead alongside Zendaya and Timothée - your boyfriend. Well, secret boyfriend. You both treasured privacy and liked to keep both your private life and life in the limelight separate. This had been something you both wanted, and so far it had been working out pretty well for the both of you. 

Yes, there had been times when the tabloids would assume and make assumptions about the two of you; digging way too deep into the relationship and scrutinizing the simplest of paparazzi photos. It was stressful, as it was for any celebrity couple, but you both got through it; it helped to communicate and talk things out when one or the other was upset by anything. But you'd deal with all the stress and paparazzi over and over again if it meant that you were with Timothée. He made everything worth it. 

Letting out one more breath, you flickered open your eyes and stepped out of the car as the door opened. The roaring and the screaming from the many, many fans seemed to be coming from everywhere as you stood up. They rushed to the rope, arms reaching out, holding things for you to sign or pictures to take. You gave them all your best smile, thanking them and signing as many autographs before you were sent to the carpet. 

Going to your first interviewer, you gave the young woman a smile before she spoke, "Y/N, it is so lovely to meet you, my name is Jody, and I'd just like to start out by saying that I love your dress." She complimented, making your smile widen. 

"Thank you! I love your outfit too." You replied, seeing Jodi was wearing a simple black suit. Clasping your hands before you, you held onto your bag tightly, feeling a little bit overwhelmed. 

"Thank you!" She gushed before getting into the real questions, "Do you mind telling me who made this particular outfit tonight?"

Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke, "Well," You began thoughtfully, looking at your dress. "The dress was made for me by Valentino, and I just have to thank them for doing such an amazing job. I was stunned when I first saw it." You answered, “The jewelry and bag is Gucci, and my shoes are also Valentino.” Jody seemed impressed, nodding her head slightly before she went into her next question.

"How did you get cast into the movie, if you don't mind me asking?" She asked, and you felt yourself become more at ease. 

"My manager called me up one day and told me that Denis wanted me to come in for auditions. Cynthia, my manager, never told me what it was for, though I did have a feeling that it might’ve been for the second Dune movie. But it seemed that I did a good job since I was cast." You let out a small laugh, and Jody gave you a smile and a nod, bringing the mic back over to her.

"So, Denis Villeneuve specifically asked you to be in his movie?" She asked, bringing the mic back over to you.

You nodded, shifting your weight slightly, "Yes, he had told me once when we were filming for ‘Dune: Part 2’ that he loved my work in the ‘Transformers’ series and ‘Barbie.’" Your lips quirked upwards into a grin. It was simply phenomenal working on the movie with Denis and the rest of the cast. And I feel very honored to have had the chance to be a part of this, honestly, groundbreaking movie."

"That's amazing, I love those movies, and I have no doubt you are incredible in this movie as well." Jody spoke, "So, I wanted to bring up a little something." Her words made your stomach twist unsurely, you knew what was coming, "There have been rumors that you and Timothée Chalamet are involved in some way, and I'd just like to ask if that rumor is true?"

You could feel your cheeks grow hot, as your eyes glanced down the carpet, seeing Zendaya and Timothée further down. You couldn't help but let your eyes wander over Timothée, wearing a black baggy top, and silver shiny pants. Zendaya wore an amazing robotic-eeque suit, which was mighty impressive. And Timothée looked absolutely handsome, the lights of the multiple cameras flashing as he smiled with Daya by his side.

You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, turning back to the interviewer, "Well, we're just really good friends. Timothée has been my biggest supporter through everything, the same goes for Zendaya, and I feel really lucky to have worked alongside them in this movie." You said as professionally as you could as Jody gave you and nodded in thanks before you were asked to go to your first mark.  

Standing before the flashing cameras and paparazzi yelling out your name, you posed and looked at the many cameras as best as you could. Your eyes burned from the constant flashing but your smile never wavered. You had been doing this for a long time, so you were pretty used to it. You were snapped out of your thoughts though when you felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist. Your faux camera-ready smile quickly turned into a real one when you looked over to see Timothée, already looking down at you. His green eyes were soft as they took you in, and you felt yourself melt under his gaze as he gave you a soft, loving smile. 

"Hi, Timmy," You greeted your boyfriend, leaning in more toward him subconsciously, hoping he could hear you over all of the people; you felt his grip on you tighten.

"Hello, mon amour," He muttered, his voice deep. His eyes flickered to the cameras, then back to you, "I've missed you," He then said, and you looked up at him once more, giving him a smirk with a small tilt of your head as your eyes glanced from his eyes, to his hair, and back. You had to suppress the urge to run your fingers through his hair. But, you know that you'd have him all to yourself after the premiere was over.

Timothée was feeling ever-so-much the same, the urge to just lean down and kiss you was strong. His hands itched to pull you close, press against your body, and kiss every inch of skin that you could offer until the world fell away. But Timothée had to hold off on doing anything of the sort. He felt his smile widen, his eyes gazing from your eyes, the soft slope of your nose, and down to the smile on your face. He loved your smile. Your smile was breathtaking. He couldn't believe that he was dating you. You. He was so in love with you. He felt so lucky to get to wake up and see you beside him, to share his moments with you, to just be with you. He had no difficulty imagining spending the rest of his life with you.

"We saw each other no more than four hours ago, Timmy," You laughed lightly, breaking him from his thoughts of you as you felt your cheeks heat up from his intense gaze.

Timothée only returned your smirk, “And I’ve been missing you the moment we left the hotel," He turned back to face the cameras, looking like a complete natural. You felt your heart skip a beat at his comment, admiring the way he looked as he smiled at the cameras. You were so proud of him. You felt his hand tighten once more on your waist, his thumb brushing against the soft fabric as he waved to the many cameras with his other hand, "I'll see you inside?" He asked, and you gave him a nod.

"As always," You watched as he looked down at you once more before slipping his arm from your waist and taking your hand in his. Raising your hand to his lips, Timothée kept his beautiful green eyes locked on yours as he pressed a lingering kiss to the back of your hand; leaving you breathless. Reluctantly, he let go, your hand dropping back to your side as he headed to his mark. He got his kiss, and you got yours.

Letting out a happy sigh, you knew there were going to be rumors, tabloids, and whatever else talking about what had transpired but you didn't care. You were just content with having Timothée with you tonight, even for a little while. You could still feel the warmth that his arm had left, and it gave you butterflies in your stomach. You knew when this was all over, you’d be with him again, cuddled in your hotel room, and you couldn’t wait.

Finally, you made it inside the theater, finding Timothée and sitting down beside him. He quickly turned his head when he felt you sit down, giving you that stunning smile of his. You returned the gesture happily, your heart swelling at just the sight of him. As the lights dimmed and the many celebrities around hushed, you felt Timothée's hand land on your thigh; your hand swiftly moved over to cover his. You bit your lip lightly as you let the soft pad of your thumb brush over his knuckles, he then interlocked his fingers with yours just as the film began to play. The intro music echoed throughout the theater, and the first scene began to play out.

How did you get so lucky?

Around more than halfway through the movie, your eyes began to droop. Your head fell to the side and landed on Timothée's shoulder. You tried to fight it, you really did, but you were tired and slightly overwhelmed by the paparazzi and flashing cameras. Timothée turned his head slightly, his nose brushing the crown of your head, a small smile on his face as he gently squeezed your hand.

"I'll wake you when it's over," He whispered to you, gently rubbing his thumb against your wrist, and you hummed quietly in response, "Go to sleep, sweetheart."

You slowly nodded, letting your eyes flutter close. How did he get so lucky?

~~~

When you opened your eyes, you frowned deeply, confused. You sat on your bed, phone in hand, on Tumblr. You looked around your hotel room, saw your TV playing some YouTube video, your clock on your bedside table read ten in the morning, and the sun was sitting high in the sky outside. You felt your shoulders drop, a deep breath falling out between your lips. You dropped your phone onto the mattress, rubbing your tired eyelids with the palms of your hands before you looked around your bedroom. 

You were a bit confused, not remembering how you got into bed in the first place. You shut your eyes as you tried to remember the night before, remembering the premiere, but the memories from that event were blurry. It was hard to tell if you actually went to the premiere or if it was all a dream. Such large and public events were a bit stressful for you, and you often had to sleep the overwhelming sense of anxiety away before you could function properly. 

But as you opened your eyes, you brought your gaze to the closet door, you spotted the garment bag that hung there; you could see your tan dress inside through the sheer fabric of the bag. Sweeping your gaze back around your room again, you spotted Timothée’s black premiere shirt draped over the hotel room chair; his black shoes were next to your heels by the closet. You sighed heavily, running your hands through your hair. It wasn't a dream, you had gone to the premiere. You knew that your anxiety sometimes caused you to forget details from these big and stressful events, and the more you sat there, the more you began to remember the events of the night before.  

Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turned your attention to the other side of your bed, frowning slightly as Timothée wasn't there. Before you got out of bed to get ready for the day, your eyes spotted a small pink sticky note on Timothée's bedside table. Reaching over, you pulled the sticky note from the wooden surface, your small frown turning upside-down at the sight of Timothée's handwriting. 

'I got a call from my manager, I didn't want to disturb you. Ordering breakfast whenever you’re ready. Forever yours, T.'

Kicking off the hotel covers, you felt your stomach rumble at the mere thought of food. With a smile, you jumped from the bed and slipped out of the room, your eyes immediately spotting Timothée as he lightly paced around the main area of the hotel suite, phone to his ear as he spoke to his manager. You leaned against the doorway, crossing your leg over the other, your arms crossing as you smiled; watching as Timothée's eyes darted to where you stood, his expression changing instantly as he gave you a second glance. 

His face softened as soon as you smiled at him, pausing his pacing, unable to look away from you. Timothée finished whatever he was saying to his manager before hanging up the phone and walking towards you, "Good morning, mon amour," He greeted, stopping in front of you as he tucked your hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek with one of his hands, dipping down slightly to press a loving kiss to your lips, "Sleep well?"

You hummed softly, nodding your head, "Very much so, yes." You replied, pressing your hand against his hand on your cheek, his skin warm and soft under your fingertips.

He chuckled softly, pulling away from your touch and taking your hand in his, leading you backward into the suite. "Ready for breakfast then?"

"Absolutely," You nodded, your chest warming from the overwhelming happiness and adoration that you were feeling, "I'm starving."

---

Main Masterlist | Celebrity Masterlist

[fishalthor]

empress natalya-arat corrino - dune: prophecy 1.04 requested by anonymous

[saintsalia]

for @benejessica

DUNE: PART TWO (2024) - dir. Denis Villeneuve

[steins77]

All six done. What should come next? 4/6 open for Requests!