#gurney halleck fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hausofmamadas · 2 years ago

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Saluda mis cabrones!!! Estoy poniendo al día de estos shingada react reblogs, tan lento pero hago lo que puedo, te lo digo. This one is loooong overdue bc it’s intriguing asf and there is n o t h i n g like it in the fandom. So feel free to listen or tune out, while I proceed to scream about this Narcos/Dune crossover, thank you kindly

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✷ You watch him, amused with the confusion in his eyes as he squints at the signs hanging above the aisles - announcing the contents of each one.

SKSKSKKSKSKSKS ANNOUNCING THE CONTENTS OF EACH ONE, OH I CAN ALREADY SEE, SMELL, TASTE, TOUCH IT. I CAN JUST S E E IT SO CLEARLY ALREADY

✷ He gives you a sheepish smile, lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck.

you can tell that a blorb is a blorb when their mannerisms are described so perfectly, im like watching a movie in my head and like on the backs of my eyelids of everything that’s going on, in 4K ultra HD skskskskksksks

✷ Peach yogurt? You scrunch your nose at it. It’s not that you dislike peach, but the artificial flavor of it in pretty much everything that’s, well, not a fresh peach never fails to make you gag.

Sskskskskskksskksksks ditto. This is real and true and such a funny, odd, litttle detail, I giggled so much that I audibly snorted

✷ You wander further down the aisle, eyes scanning the shelves for something that will help motivate you to eat a proper breakfast for once in your life.

NO, I KNOW THIS IS READERFIC BUT LIKE NO THIS IS ACTUALLYSSKKEKS ME TO A TEE THO, SKSKSKS HAVE NEVER FELT SO SEEN

✷ It’s like walking into a wall. You stumble backwards, free hand going to grab at whatever you can find to help steady yourself. Then someone catches you. A hand around your forearm and you’re righted before you - or the milk - can go flying. The wall speaks at the same time as you.

y’know........... it’s one of those things I should’ve seen coming?????? Bc like everyone is so fucking talented in this here narcos/nmx fanfic community, right. But like....... I’m still mad at how good this is??? Like mad I didn’t write it?! The bookend of it’s like walking into a wall and the wall speaks at the same time as you, is giving me literal fucking fits, like I need to sit down and take a good hard look at what I’m doing and everything I’ve ever written bc this is making me question all the rules? But in like the absolute best way possible

✷ “Javier.” you should’ve known from the smell of cigarettes, from the way his hand felt around your wrist “You’re back.”

THESKSKSKSOSOAOSKSK YOU SHOULDVE KNOWN FROM THE WAY HIS HAND FELT AROUND YOUR WRISTKSKSKSIISOSKSKWKWK WHY TF IS THAT LIKE THE MOST FUCKING MUNDANE THING BUT ALSO THE HOTTEST MF THIIIIING- LIKE SENT A FULL JOLT UP MY FUCKINGSKKSKS SPINE AND GAVE ME GOOSEBUMPS SKSKSKSKSKKSKSKSK like I know I am a sucker for Javi he’s not quite a full blorb but like, I do have eyes sksksks and mans is fine asf but like that shouldn’t be something that sent me sksksksksks and it really did in a very “no one look at me” kind of way

✷ He releases you, instead sets his hands on his hips.

the number of gifs I have on my phone of Javi with his hands on his hips like the precious little diva he is, is like an embarrassing amount not quite as embarrassing as my assortment of Barrón and Dina gifs but like p fucking closeksksks

✷ He leans against the fridge door, shopping basket filled with a dozen different sandwich toppings by his feet, eyeing you.

SKSKSKKSKSKSKSKKSKSKS IT IS SO CORRECT THAT ALL FUCKINSKSKS JAVI HAS IN HIS FRIDGE IS LIKE BEER AND COLD CUTS FROM THE SUPERMARKET DELI OH I AM HOWWWWWWWLING AT HOOOOW ON THE MONEY THAT IS. Bc Javi doesn’t seem quite like Walt Breslin levels of depressed and malnourished, right. Like as two of the saddest DEA agents on the planet, naturally they both share a steady diet of cigarettes and Lone Star beer tall boys bc you can usually get close to a two for $5 deal at your local liquor store or Sunoco gas station sksksksks but like Javi looks like he at least manages to slap some mayo and turkey on some stale bread every once in a while, maybe he adds a Slim Jim or some string cheese on the side as like part of the entree if he’s feeling compelled to get fancy with it like maybe when he’s having one of those late-night “work” meetings with one of his informants, you know it’s literally just canon for me now skskskskks

✷ His eyes flit to your and Gurney’s intertwined hands then back up to his face so quick you might as well have imagined it.

ONCE AGAINSKSKSKSSK I JUST WANT TO SHAKE YOU BC LIKE THE EYE FLIT, I know EXACTLY what that looks like as tho I have actually shot and edited the fucking thing myself could you imagine. If I could make films of other ppl’s fanfics, I would die happy, i just wanna make movies so bad sksks like the description is so detailed and right on the gotdamn money, and it’s really, really, really invoking within me the urge scream and to flip my desk over

✷ “I hear good things about your boss.” Intentional or not, his words come off as a challenge and beside you Gurney grows taller - his back as straight as a rod. No one can doubt the pride he takes in his work.

oh immediately just 👀 right now bc pls pls, pretty pls tell me that we are going to get some kind of interaction between Javi and Leto. Like i cannot begin to articulate why I need it ??and I didn’t even know I did until now, but I do. It’s a combo I would’ve n e v e r thought of before this fic, but like i am dying to be a flaw on the wall and watch that dynamic

✷ The seconds tick on, painfully slow, and just as you’re about to say you’re in a bit of a hurry Javier breaks the silence.

“Better get home before dinner goes cold.” he straightens himself, lets his warm eyes land on you “It was good seeing you again. You too, mr. Halleck.”

PFFFFFFTTTTTT SKSKSKSKSKS Javi, bb boy, do not pretend like you’ve got anything resembling a hot meal waiting for you at home, like you do realize we’ve already seen the sksk fucking shopping basket of cold cuts you’ve been carting around this grocery store it’s okay cariño, we all know and love you for the manchild you are, no need to front KEKW OH OKAY BUT THEN ALSOKSKSKS the happy go lucky manner with which Javi says goodbye is likesksksks I think equal parts sincere and trying to piss Gurney off by being overly familiar sksksksks like bc Gurney is so buttoned up, I can imagine Javi just pretending to be so besties way too soon and it just pissing Gurney off but like he can’t lash out bc Javi’s not actually doing anything that warrants that kind of reaction skssks like you have clearly rotisseried both of these men to perfection

✷ He starts the car and maneuvers out of the parking lot with a practiced calm, onto the highroad leading to his part of town.

with a practiced calm sksksksksksksksk is this not further proof of my point that Javi’s already gotten under his skin a little, o qué? Like the fact he has to actively practice his calm something he no doubt has monk-like capabilities in bc he has to do it so much sksksksskkekeks like Gurney just seems like he has such todo terremoto going on inside at all times that’s just very well camouflaged by years and years of repress—*cough* uh I mean, uuh military discipline

✷ “It’s alright if you want to take him up on that offer.” You twist in the passenger seat, eyeing him suspiciously ... “We never said we were exclusive.” He says, then in his head adds ‘We never said we were dating at all’. It sure feels like it though. Paul’s the one who told him about what not being exclusive means and all that Gurney got from it is that dating has gotten more difficult.

OHSJSKSKSKSKSKSKMS BUT I HAD TO FUCKING COPY/PASTE THIS ENTIRE FUCKING PARAGRAPH BC I AM FUCKINGSODOROEKDKNRE CRYYYYYYING like ofc Gurney would have to use Paul as his frame of reference for dating in the modern age ksksksksksksk like again, something I would never have thought of in a million years but is just THE MOST accurate of all things. Also, mad respect that he’s being an adult and not all possessive bc I do think weirdly, that is more consistent with Gurney, tho not the obvious choice as a writer, if that makes sense?? No but really, really and truly cannot express the fucking live wire of joy this shot through mesksksksksks just beyond real

✷ “Are you seeing other people?” You ask. He chuckles, shakes his head.

“I work 70 hours on a slow week … I don’t have time for anyone but you.” He likes that you asked, though. Takes it as a sign that maybe you’re as interested as he is. He’s very much aware that you could have the time for someone else ...

“Either way,” you say “we already have plans tonight.”

once again, catch me fucking sksksksks copy/pasting full fucking paragraphs sksksksks but like all I know is that this shit has “mess,” it has “Desmadre Up The Wazoo” written all over it bc Reader clearly isn’t seeing anyone else but they also don’t make a definitive statement of “yes/no, we are/aren’t exclusive” and something tells me, something gives me just the slightest, most sneakiest of suspicions that had this conversation taken place prior to spotting a wild!Javi roaming in his unnatural habitat, the answer to the question of exclusivity would be a resounding, “uh, Gurney. You’re def the only Dilf I’m presently climbing like a jungle gym.” SKSKSKSKSKSK

✷ … and bookshelves filled to the brim with poetry, philosophy, music history and theory as well as copies of the bible, the Quran and the Torah ... The kitchen is no exception: all white and gray with a pristine kitchen island and a set of Zwilling knives that look sharp enough to cut glass.

OH BUT THIS SKSKSSKJS CONTRAST TO WHAT JAVI’S PLACE PROBLY LOOKS LIKE sksksks bc i know he’s not in the same apartment he lived in when he was in Colombia, since he’s in Laredo now, but I am just putting these two side by side and thinking about how much Gurney is just a straight-to-the-point, upstanding, refined Grown Ass Man as in, refined to the point that he owns and regularly uses a set of Zwilling knives that likely cost more than my own fuckingsksksk car and when I think of Javi, there are a few positive things that come to mind. Hoooooowmever sksjsj as much as I think of “Gurney” and “Grown Ass Man,” if I think “Javi,” … I just think …. “Man”

✷ Gurney seizes the moment, swiping his hand along your shoulder blade before returning to its task of picking spices from the cabinet.

SKKSKSKSK AS A MATTER OF FACT THIS DID NOT GIVE ME GOOSEBUMPS, I DID NOT FEEL THIS IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORMSLDKSKS AT ALL. I FEEL TOTALLY FINE AND NORMAL AND HOW DARE YOU SUGGEST OTHERWISE NO ONE FUCKING LOOK AT ME

✷ There’s nothing demanding about it, no greed or hunger, no dropping everything to press you up against the counter. It’s an odd experience. One that you find yourself wanting more of.

it’s an odd experience. one you find yourself wanting more of. NO BUT OKAY, bc the boundary respecting that is fucking occurring right here ..... read this: IS THERE NOTHING HOTTER THAN FUCKING RESTRAINT?!??????? OKAY??? Like yes, sure, it’s fun to be manhandled and thrown around like a sack of potatoes but I shit you not, a man who lets you determine the pace at which Things Are Happening is like actually truly fucking devastatingsksksksn to me like it just screams so much “I won’t make yku emotionally responsible for my bullshit” and nothing makes me wanna take my pants off faster KEKW for a full ass master’s thesis on why this is the case aka me spewing 2K words of a whole bunch of personal shit that you didn’t ask for and prolly don’t care about sksksksks but on the off chance you do, please see my Benjamin Arellano Félix tribute vid

✷ They’re my family too. So they’ve always sort of been my priority. Probably will be for as long as they want-” He cuts himself short, winces. Gurney peers at you over his shoulder.

“Pretty stupid of me to say that right after we kissed, huh?” He says.

I have no idea if this is just me being wildly cynical and reading into shit that isn’t at all there but this reads to me like such impending conflict for this relationshipsksksksksks like even tho Reader says it’s cute and they respect and admire his loyalty, i am sitting over here, going full 👀 at the possibilities for this to cause friction sksksksn like is there ever going to be a point at which this is no longer cute and admirable, y’know what I mean

✷ “Plenty of time then.” He grabs you by the hips, hoisting you onto the kitchen island and presses his lips to yours. Your shriek - equal parts surprise and delight - is muffled by his mouth ... It seems he does greedy just as well as he does gentle.

OHHHHHHHNY SKSKSKDJDJD SMFUCKING SWEET FUCKINT CHRIST I REALLY DID NOT SEE THIS COMING, I WAS ENTIRELY UNPREPARED FOR THE AMOUNT OF SWEATING THAT IS OCCURINGKSKEKSNE RIGHT NOW. LIKE DF, DEAR FRIENDS, LET ME DO TELL YOU HOW I CLUTCHED MY PEARLS AND GAY GASPED AT THIS SEXY TURN OF EVENTS, WOOF. Additionally, I feel it important to note, my first thought was “oh we are not at all surprised Gurney knows how to go full caveman with the best of them.” My second thought was “a prime and valuable example of get you a man who can do both.”

✷ “I know I’m not a looker ... I know I’m not,” he repeats “but I like to think I’m a decent person. That I take good care of those who matter to me.”

“I’m inclined to believe you.”

He leans in even further, nudges his nose against yours. Breathes out a plea. “Kiss me again?”

OH SHUT THE FUCKING FRONT DOOR THO BC I AM ACTUALLY FUCKING CLAWING MY OWN FACE OFF AT THIS EXCHANGE. Like the vulnerability he’s displaying here despite the fact that he has led with straight lies. “I know I’m not a looker.” Gurney, mi morro, sweet baby angel. Idk if you’ve taken the time to look in a mirror? i know you’re very busy. But im not sure if you’ve noticed, and it’s kinda funny actually just *how much* you resemble Josh Brolin, one of the most in-demand Hollywood dilfs, okay. you’re just fine sksksks by being honest about his insecurities but also advocating for himself as a partner at the same time, that is like actual crack to me. BUT THENSJSKSJSNS BUT FUCKING THENNNNNNNN YOU HIT ME WITH “KISS ME AGAIN?” AND PLOT TWIST, IT’S HIM WHO’S ASKING, LIKE IT PLAYS SO AGAINST TYPE AND SO AGAINST GENDER CLICHES AND POWER DYNAMICS AND IT’SMAKING ME VISCERALLY ECSTATIC SKSSDKSKKE LIKE IT’S JUST EVERYTHING I WANT BUT RARELY SEE. SOMEONE NEEDS TO HOLD ME DOWN, AND TRANQUILIZE ME BC I AM STRAIGHT BUZZIN OVER IT

✷ You don’t catch what the other person is saying, which you suppose is a good thing given that you don’t know how much you’re allowed to know about Gurney’s work. You dated an accountant once, and his fear that you’d see the company numbers or some other ‘private’ information bordered on paranoia.

and here we have another thing making me fully 👀 bc I haven’t seen Dune recently enough to remember why canonically, Gurney’s job might have to be top-secret in the context of this crossover, but I am highly fuckin intrigued to say the least. But then also, the detail about dating an accountant ksksks just cracks me up so much bc I have also dated an accountant who was that fucking uptight and high-strung, like it just sksksk

✷ “You can stay if you want to,” he leans back in his chair, gestures to the room “wait for me to come back. But I don’t know how long it will take.” It’s tempting but you don’t feel quite comfortable enough to be alone at his place for an unknown amount of time.

PFFFFTTTSJSKSS okay, this is what I like to call, “exhibit A evidence that Reader is An Adult, and i Am Not” bc I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, I would’ve used this as an opportunity to snoop immediately. And not even like in a sus way, like worried about him cheating or whatever, but just bc I’m fucking fascinated by people and nosy KEKW

✷ It’s not like you guys were ever serious - based on what you’ve heard, Javier Pena isn’t serious with anyone.

NO SSKSK BUT THIS IS WHAT I LIKE TO CALL, “THE INEVITABLE AND NECESSARY, ALL-TOO-ACCURATE-BUT-LOVING ROAST OF JAVIER PEÑA BY THOSE WHO BLORB HIM” bc I shit you not, in every👏🏽single👏🏽fanfic👏🏽 I have ever read about this fucking man, there is always some joke or reference about his himbo-to-his-core dating history and inability to commit but like it’s done with so much love and understanding of his special brand of Broken Broken: a new fragrance brought to you by Dolce and Gabbana like it makes me fucking cackle like a cartoon witch every time. Like that shit never gets old

✷ Sight set on breakfast, you head for the dairy aisle. Spotting a familiar figure, you stop in your tracks. This can’t be happening.

Sittin here readin’ this, and I know for a fact that as I stare into the blinding blue light of my phone, this is the exact look on my face

Me rn ⇩⇩⇩

Me rn ⇧⇧⇧

✷ “Are you following me?” You ask. His head whips around, eyes finding you.

“Milk was expired.” he holds it up … ”Pops sent me back to replace it. Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?” Not following you, then. Not that you really thought he was.

NOOOOSDPTTOTOROSOSKTNSTTOOOOP JAVI HAVING TO GO BACK TO THE STORE BC THE MILK WAS EXPIRED IS THE MOST JAVI THING AKSKSK THE MAN IS A MESS BUT WE LOVE HIM FOR IT. I CAN SEE IT FLAWLESSLY

✷ Javier chuckles. “Guess you have a type.”

... “What’s that supposed to mean?”

… “The workaholics. This Halleck guy, me, and what was his name?” he scratches at his forehead “The talkative one?” ... Also known as the accountant.

PFFFFTTKTKTKTKKDKDK not Javi going full fuckinsksks armchair psychologist on Reader and fully hitting the mail on the head my godddddddddddd, I would be so fucking mad but like we cannot deny, mans does have a point KEKW oh I am really yodeling rn at this entire thing

✷ Javier says, “See? You like your men overworked.” Your cheeks burn. By now, you’re really starting to wish you’d snuck past him instead of engaging.

that feel of like sksksks when you’re so mad bc you know the person is right, but you don’t want to even consider that what they’re saying is right, that’s how right they are KEKW

✷ “What was that earlier tonight?” you ask, “about his boss?”

... “What?” he asks, like he doesn’t have the faintest what you’re talking about.

“Don’t play dumb, Javi.”

He hesitates, brown eyes looking everywhere except you.

GODDDDDDDDD OKAY BUT YOU HAVE THE SUBLTETY OF JAVI’S MANNERISMS SO FUCKING DOWN. Like I’m in the middle of making a vid for him so have therefore been studying this mf frame by frame for the better part of 4 weeks at this point sksksks and lLET ME DO TELL YOU the whole, brown eyes looking everywhere except at you, okay he ABSOLUTELY DOEES THIS. He does that exactly. It’s spot on and I am losing my mind. Just well done, truly

✷ “It’s an import and export company, setting up an office right by the Rio Grande.” It takes you a second to connect the dots ...

OH THE INTRIGUE, CONSPIRACY, I AM FUCKING H E R E FOR THIS SHIT.

✷ “Even if his boss is a good guy who wants nothing to do with the traffickers, his company will still get dragged into it. One way or another.” You want to think he’s just being paranoid, that he hasn’t quite gotten home from Colombia yet.

there is something about the that he hasn’t quite gotten home from Colombia yet, that is just REALLY SLAPS skskskskks and is particularly tragic and heart wrenching. Like I nearly winced bc I don’t doubt for a second that Javi’s a little cracked in the head after everything he went through in Colombia and likewise, i don’t doubt he did absolutely nothing of value to process what happened except bury his pain into whatever dive bar waitress he happened to charm with those brown eyes that week but like sksksksks the relentless workaholic-ness and inability to let go is also what makes him such a good cop? But then Gurney has similar tendencies, like there’s a single-minded stubbornness bordering on straight fucking myopia and at times, delusion that I can see in both of them and I can’t decide if I want it to unite them keeping the Atrediades fam clean, like trying to prevent them from getting dragged into the chaos of the drug war OR if I want them to be adversaries with Javi already questioning whether they’ve been corrupted by the drug trade somehow, like a guilty-before-proven-innocent mindset that puts him directly at odds with Gurney professionally and lbr, when it comes to the competition of getting into Reader’s pants too like I can see both being so feasible, both being tan desmadre alaverga pues, and both posing different but equally fucking J U I C Y conflicts for Reader. Pero sea como sea, estamos listas pa este desvergue mis cabrones, como ándale alaverga pues sksksksk

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No pero enserio I am so impressed with how this crossover is playing out, like you have got my fucking attention

What the water gave us, chapter 1

A Dune/Narcos crossover fic

Explicit, 18+

Gurney Halleck x f!reader and Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings (will be updated as the fic goes on): heavy angst, love triangles, pregnancy scares, drugs, smut

Tagging: @captainpoopweinersoldier @ghostlyvenus-selfships @nightonblogmountain @peterfrauchen @queerlittleidiot @evyiione

Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

Excerpt

The wall speaks at the same time as you.

“Sorry.”

“Excuse me.” You know that voice. Still trying to orient yourself, you look at the person in front of you and are met with brown eyes under dark curls flopping down across his forehead, aquiline nose, broad shoulders clad in a plaid shirt.

“Javier.” you should’ve known from the smell of cigarettes, from the way his hand felt around your wrist “You’re back.” He releases you, instead sets his hands on his hips.

“I am.” Stating the obvious, but then again so were you. You shuffle your feet, trying to shake the feeling of surprise that seems to have left you tongue tied.

“When did that happen?” You’re sure you would’ve heard of it if it’s been more than a day or two. The girls at the office like gossip, after all, and since you live next door to Mrs. Pérez - devout church goer and aunt to the Peña ranch’s closest neighbor - you’d imagined the news reaching you at the speed of light.

Finish on AO3

#screamblog #trying to do one of these a night sksksk #we'll see how long that lasts #also i have a new system for how i plan to proceed with screaming in all caps about fanfic on the reg #we'll see how well that goes skskksksksk #narcos/dune crossover #gurney halleck #javier peña #gurney halleck x reader #javier peña x reader #netflix narcos #narcos #dune movie #javi peña

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narcosfandomdiscord · 1 year ago

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narcos fandom smut alphabet - finished!

you know what goes really well with summer sunshine and narcos tv rewatches? SMUTTY FIC!

(they put that bisexual lighting on Isabella for a reason, after all!)

this was our first month of prompts over at @narcosfandomdiscord! for every letter of the alphabet, we had two smutty prompts that fanfic writers used for inspiration. 🥰 our group ambition was to create at least one fic per letter—26 new narcos smut fics during the month of July—and we totally smashed it, in large part thanks to prolific work from @salt-is-a-terrible-currency. happy reading!

if you prefer reading on ao3, check out our collection. all fics tagged as #nffalphabet on tumblr. and it's just that simple 🥰

if you have any questions, you can message us on tumblr or join our narcos fandom discord here!

🍰 Prompt List & Fic Masterlist 🍰

July 1 — A — angry sex, anal

Right For Once by @drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x f!Reader, angry sex, 2.3k

Infuriating by @salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, angry sex, 1.5k

Our Man In Mexico by @hausofmamadas — Horacio Carrillo x Andrea Nuñez, angry sex, 2.5k

July 2 — B — blood, bound & begging

Final Warning by @purplesong1028 — Amado x Pacho, bound & begging, 490

Please (with your finger) by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, bound & begging, 1.2k

blood on vacation by @ashlingnarcos — David Barrón x f!Reader, blood, 1.8k

July 3 — C — cuffs, choking

If I go too far by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, choking, 737

mentirosos by @narcolini — Kitty Paez x gn!Reader, cuffs, 1.1k

July 4 — D — domesticity, “don’t make a sound or they’ll hear us.”

Taking Care by drabbles-mc — Diego Ramirez (Narcos OC) x F!Reader, domesticity, 2.1k

Lipstick's smudged by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, domesticity and “don’t make a sound or they’ll hear us", 447

A Few Moments by @purplesong1028 — Miguel Félix/Pacho Herrera, “don’t make a sound or they’ll hear us", 482

July 5 — E — edging, eldritch

The first time I felt a ghost by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, eldritch, 716

July 6 — F — fight or fuck?, friends with benefits

No relationship talk by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, friends with benefits, 422

Unbroken Rules by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x f!Reader, friends with benefits, 2.9k

July 7 — G — gag/gagging, gun play

Paper-thin walls by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, gag/gagging, 361

Whatever He Wants by purplesong1028 — Amado Carrillo Fuentes x Miguel Félix, gun play, 416

July 8 — H — honor bondage, hatesex

Dress blues by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader x Gurney Halleck, honor bondage, 1.8k

THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US by hausofmamadas — Enedina Arellano x David Barrón, honor bondage, 2k

July 9 — I — infidelity, in public

Never meet your heroes by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, in public, 955

Don't Mention It by drabbles-mc — Javier Peña x f!Reader, infidelity and in public, 2.7k

No Strong Suit by purplesong1028 — Miguel Félix x Pacho Herrera, infidelity, 439

July 10 — J — jealousy, "just shut up already"

Unprofessional by drabbles-mc — Walt Breslin x f!Reader, jealousy, 4.3k

A bad idea by @artemiseamoon — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, jealousy, 2.3k

The ring by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, jealousy, 1.1k

July 11 — K — knotting, knocked up

Which time? by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, knocked up, 418

Secrets in the night by artemiseamoon — Horacio Carrillo x Original Female Character, knocked up, 3.5k

Someday When It's Over by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x Original Female Character, knocked up, 2.8k

July 12 — L — luxury, lingerie

Eres guapa by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, lingerie, 544

Desire by artemiseamoon — Enedina Arellano x Original Female Character, lingerie and luxury, 3.9k

Round-trip Ticket by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x Original Female Character, lingerie, 7.7k

July 13 — M — mirrors, "make me forget (all about him/her/it/them)"

Another brick in the wall by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, make me forget, 812

Favors Owed by drabbles-mc — Maria Elvira x gn!Reader, make me forget, 2.7k

Like Old Times by artemiseamoon — Judy Moncada x Original Female Character, mirrors, 1.4k

July 14 — N — nipple play, "no one does it like you"

No One Like You by drabbles-mc — Javier Peña x f!Reader, no one does it like you, 2k

Sore by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, nipple play, 580

July 15 — O — on all fours, one night stand

Cascade by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, one night stand, 580

July 16 — P — praise kink, pulling hair

Dress blues, pt 2 by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader x Gurney Halleck, praise kink, 404

July 17 — Q — quiet (or trying to be), quickie

Sweet, sharp, addictive by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, quiet (or trying to be) and quickie, 464

July 18 — R — role reversal, ruined

Bad Guy Treatment by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x f!Reader, role reversal, 3.8k

What is she to him by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, ruined, 444

July 19 — S — submit, "say my name"

Stoke the flames by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, submit, 387

July 20 — T — trapped together, tied up

On company time by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, trapped together, 574

July 21 — U — upper hand, underwater

The Weight of It All by drabbles-mc — Walt Breslin x Sal Orozco, underwater, 2k

he keeps his rules. you keep him. by ashlingnarcos — Horacio Carrillo x gn!Reader, upper hand, 1.1k

Polkadots by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, underwater, 359

July 22 — V — virginity (loss or roleplay), video

Off the Backburner by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x f!Reader, virginity, 4.1k

In this moment of pretend by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, virginity roleplay, 435

July 23 — W — "we probably shouldn't do this", worship

Stay A Little Longer by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x f!Reader, "we probably shouldn't do this", 1.5k

Lunch break daydream by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader, "we probably shouldn't do this", 497

July 24 — X — exhibitionism, exes having sex

It's complicated by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Helena, exes having sex, 971

Not Yours Anymore by drabbles-mc — Steve Murphy x Original Female Character, exes having sex, 3.2k

no witness by ashlingnarcos — Walt Breslin x f!Reader, exes having sex, 2.4k

July 25 — Y — yearning, "you look good like this"

Superman (4) by @garbinge — Javier Peña x f!Reader, "you look good like this", 5k

Lost Time by drabbles-mc — Horacio Carrillo x f!Reader, yearning, 2.9k

If he closes his eyes by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x Original Female Character, yearning, 442

July 26 — Z — zipper, zeal

Things Like That by drabbles-mc — Danilo Garza x f!Reader, zipper, 2k

Zealot by salt-is-a-terrible-currency — Javier Peña x f!Reader and Nathan "Cable" Summers from Deadpool x f!Reader, zeal, 4k

(note: we hit the link limit on this post so from now on, links will be to fics + to authors on their first appearance.)

#narcos mexico #narcos #narcos imagine #narcos fanfiction #nffalphabet

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random-thought-depository · 11 months ago

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Brett Devereaux made an observation about Dune that I really like: that Paul Atreides and Feyd Rautha Harkonnen were probably raised with very similar values.

This isn't exactly a ship in the usual fandom sense of the word, but I think it'd be interesting to see this explored in an AU fanfic where Paul and Feyd Rautha somehow team up at the end of Dune.

I think what'd work really well for this is a scenario where Feyd Rautha somehow gets control over House Harkonnen and swears loyalty/vassalage to Paul, adding effective control over House Harkonnen to Paul's portfolio at the end of Dune.

I think that'd have really crunchy social and emotional dynamics that'd fit really well with the theme here. Paul has spent years hating the Harkonnens and seeking revenge on them for the death of his father and a lot of the surviving remnant of Paul's own house have pretty similar feelings, and now here's Feyd Rautha saying to Paul "The armies of my house await your orders, my lord," and Feyd and his Harkonnen buddies are now hanging out at Paul's court and hobnobbing with Paul and the rest of his court. If Gurney Halleck and Duncan Idaho are alive in this scenario I bet they'd hate this and there'd be some pretty tense moments when they have to collaborate with their Harkonnen opposite numbers.

Atreides and Harkonnen generals collaborating to plan the Jihad with kinda shitlib vs. MAGA chud vibe tension where the Atreides have thinking of themselves as the side of good as an important part of their self-image while the Harkonnens tend to be more casually bloodthirsty and sadistic but this is arguably more a difference in aesthetics than anything substantive, when crunch time comes they can put these cultural differences aside and collaborate surprisingly easily on shared goals because they're actually fundamentally similar people with fundamentally similar worldviews and values, molded by fundamentally similar institutions.

Feyd Rautha becoming one of Paul's closest subordinates and kind of his friend in a weird way cause they're actually fundamentally similar people and useful to each other.

I think Feyd is supposed to still be pretty young at the end of Dune, so this might work better if Paul is a bit less lucky in his campaign against the Harkonnens, delaying the events of the end of Dune by a few years but ultimately not preventing them, or something like that, IDK.

I think if I were writing this the closest I'd take this to shipping in the common fandom sense is Paul and Feyd end up kind of in a wife-loaning polycule with Irulan, though one that's asexual on Paul's side. Basically at some point Irulan and Paul have a conversation that's basically a more refined version of this:

IRULAN: "Hey, I'm tired of living a life of involuntary celibacy cause you need a political marriage to me but won't have sex with me because of your issues. Can you just wife-loan me to one of your right-hand men if you're gonna be so complicated?"

PAUL: "Fine, sure. The usual rules will apply: keep it on the down-low and don't get pregnant."

IRULAN: "Fine."

PAUL: "Did you have any candidates in mind? If not, might I suggest Utrecht or Hakim?"

IRULAN: "I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH AN UNBATHED DESERT BARBARIAN! ... Feyd is kind of hot, I guess... I'll take him!"

PAUL: "That arrangement would be perfectly acceptable to me. Pending Feyd's agreement, we have a deal. I'll discuss this matter with him tonight, after I've discussed with him the deposition of his house troops in the conquest expedition I'll be launching against the Megara worlds. I think he'll agree."

IRULAN: "Great!"

I have had one or two or three little ideas for a Dune fanfic but have never figured out what the plot would be. I suppose now if I ever actually write a Dune fanfic, it'll probably be about this premise.

I guess in a way it might be fridge brilliance that this didn't happen in the actual books, cause this is a lot like the relationship between Leto II and Farad'n at the end of Children of Dune and Farad'n reads to me as a mirror to Paul in the same way Feyd is, and the arc of the Dune novels up to God-Emperor of Dune is Leto II could do what Paul couldn't bring himself to do, so Leto II being able to co-opt Farad'n while Paul couldn't co-opt Feyd would fit with that.

#Dune #fanfic ideas

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manisca-rye · 3 years ago

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I've now seen Dune twice in theatres, the first time in IMAX and the second in 3D ULTRAAVX and both times were beyond phenomenal and made me fall in love with this story and universe even more. I'll probably watch the movie a few more times just to take it in again and again.

I loved too many things about the movie to name them all but Oscar Isaac as Duke Leto (and that beard he was rocking) and Timothee Chalamet as Paul Atreides gave me inspiration for numerous fics that I will be trying to find the time to write over the next two years while waiting for part 2.

House Atreides 💚💚 "There is no call we do not answer. There is no faith that we betray."

Atreides! Atreides! Atreides!

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soursatellite · 7 months ago

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The Waters We Brave - Ch. 1

Pairing: Gurney Halleck x Original Female Character (Moira Atreides)

Summary: The year is 10,189. House Atreides stands strong as one of the great houses of the known universe. Marchioness Moira Atreides, sister to the great Duke Leto, begins to fear the plots hiding beneath the waves.

Tags: Age Gap (original character is 31 and Gurney is in his early 50's), YEARNING, slow burn, devious political plots, plot heavy, fluff, angst, did I mention we're yearning? Leto and Moira being the sibling duo to end all sibling duos, Jessica and Moira being the girlbosses to end all girlbosses

Warnings: Self harm in the form of picking at skin due to stress

WC: 5044

Author's Note: It's here! This is my first ever fanfic and I'm so excited to be posting this. I hope all you Gurney lovers out there find some enjoyment in this. This is an introductory and VERY plot/character establishment heavy chapter. So if you like this and want me to keep writing this series PLEASE PLEASE let me know. I want to hear all of your thoughts. I promise that if I write future chapters they will be more GurneyxOC heavy, I just loved writting the political intrigue. Much love, Sputnik <3

Excerpt from the Histories of House Atreides:

The Duchess in the Shadows

We turn now to another member of the House Atreides; the younger sister of the Duke Leto, Lady Moira Atreides. 12 years his junior in age but equal in mind, Moira Atreides was the picture of political prowess alongside her brother. She played such an integral part in his rule that some referred to her as, ‘The Duchess in the Shadows’.

Despite not being the direct heir, Lady Moira was raised with all the training a person of high political esteem may need by her and Leto’s father as a powerful asset to his son’s rule. And live up to the expectation she did.

The Marchioness’ heavy dress whipped in the Caladanian winds as the door of the ship opened into a ramp, the feeling of the breeze a cool salve across her cheek and mind. She turns to look at the Atreides Warmaster, Gurney Halleck, standing slightly behind her left, “Are you not delighted to be home, dear Warmaster?”

The man’s face remained set in stone, “Overjoyed, my Lady”

A laugh escapes her lips, “careful, one day you may slip up and I may be able to tell how you feel without asking,” the woman faces forward once again. The vessel they were onboard let out a final groan as its ramp fully extended. Moira couldn’t help stealing a deep breath of the air of her home world, a crisp welcome that she never failed to love. The few strands of her dark hair that had escaped the intricate updo atop her head tickled the sides of her face. Nothing could quell the joy that filled her heart upon returning home even after her 31 years of life on the planet.

The smile it brought her fails to leave her lips as she sees her family there to greet her. Her brother the Duke Leto, her good friend Lady Jessica, and beloved nephew Paul. The boy ran forward as Moira reached Caladans ground and pulled his Aunt into a firm hug. She gives a joking groan and pats his back, “Gods, my boy. As much as I adore your welcomes you cannot continue your greetings like this. When you are a man grown you will knock me off my feet.”

The boy ignores her tease and pulls back with a smile, “we are happy for your return. And yours as well, Warmaster,” he says looking from his aunt to his tutor. The boy had already passed Moira in height despite being in his mid teens. The two share their pale skin and wavy dark hair, but he gained the greenish-blue eyes of his mother while Leto and Moira shared eyes of a dark brown.

The Marchioness pats the boy’s back before continuing to walk towards Lady Jessica and Leto, “We are glad to be back. It feels like ages since I was graced with the loveliness of our home,” she holds out her arm to her brother for him to shake, and the man can’t help but let out his own laugh and grab her arm, pulling her into a firm, quick hug, “A month you have been gone, sister. One month too long. The planet has missed you.”

“Well not just the planet I hope,” she says, sharing a smile with Jessica.

The woman gives a pleased look to her friend and takes her hand from Leto’s, “We’ve had a dinner prepared for your arrival. I know you must be exhausted, but it’s nothing a good meal among family won’t fix,” the group of them begin walking into the castle.

As they walk, Moira catches Gurney starting to split off from the group and halts, “you will be joining us won’t you, sir?”

He stops in place and turns, meeting the expectant eyes of the Lady Moira, “I did not wish to intrude, my Lady.”

“Nonsense, Gurney,” she walks forward to him and takes his hand in hers, “you know you are family as much as the rest of us.”

The man looks down at his rough hand encased in the Lady’s smooth skin, struggling to find the words to reply before Leto pipes up, “Yes we insist, Gurney. You must join us.”

He clears his throat lightly and nods, “If the Duke and his family wish it.”

Moira smiles. Ever the professional Gurney was. If Moira had learned anything in her years traveling with him, it was that the man would not seek to make his wishes known unless they could be phrased in a way that would please her or her lord brother.

“Good. Now go get cleaned up and we will see you in our dining hall,” she gives his hand one last squeeze and Gurney gives her nothing more than a short nod before walking off. Moira turns back to her family, “I shall see you all in an hour.”

Gurney, above all else, was reliable. He was loyal and set in his ways, a feature he prided himself on. When the young Duke Leto Atreides had liberated the man from the Harkonnens in an Atreides raid on Giedi Prime, he vowed his loyalty to the Duke and his family. Thus his new routine was set in place. He proudly served his Duke and his family upon rising to the rank of Warmaster, and happily fell into routine. He tutored the Duke’s young son Paul and trained his soldiers. When the long day was done, he would retire to his room, read his books, and play the Baliset. With all the tumultuous tides his early life had brought, Gurney would have happily spent his eternity in this life, but life hardly let us have what we wanted.

For the better part of the last two years, Gurney Halleck had found himself accompanying the Marchioness Moira Atreides on cross world and interplanetary diplomatic voyages. Now Lady Moira and Gurney sat at the private dinner table of Duke Leto, Lady Jessica, and the young pup Paul. The brother and sister talked emphatically of the recent excursion and the three others in the room simply sat and ate their dinners silently, they would hardly have been able to get a word in if they’d wanted to. Everyone knew that attempting to pull the siblings' attention from each other after they’d been apart and had so much to discuss was like trying to get a child to look away from a sky full of colorful fireworks.

The Warmaster had hardly noticed that his mind had been so far elsewhere from the table until he heard a lull of silence and looked up to see Lady Moira and the rest of the table looking at him expectantly after Moira had said something he’d failed to hear. Gurney internally chastised himself for not being vigilant in the conversation before asking, “I’m sorry, what was that, my Lady..?”

Gurney’s flustered state (of course flustering Gurney was as simple as catching him without an immediate phrase or retaliation) was met with a simple smile that twitched at the edges of the Lady’s lips, amusement twinkling in her eyes, “I said the people on Exodeos were quite enthralled with your baliset playing, weren’t they?”

The Warmaster recovered quickly and stopped himself from mindlessly stabbing at his food to regain some semblance of professionalism despite the fact that he was among family, “Oh, yes they were, my Lady,” there was a pause as Gurney clears his throat and tries to brush off the affectionately teasing comment, “Every time I set it down they begged for one more tune,” Gurney said, trying to regale the talk with a tone of amusement, as much as his monotone voice would allow.

Moira laughed and looked back to the other members of her family, “you should all be jealous that I got to hear so much. We all know how difficult it is to get our dear Warmaster to play for us, but I think he simply couldn’t resist the applause.” Everyone chuckles and Gurney can’t help looking back to his food. He wasn’t offended by the Lady’s prodding; not in the slightest. He wasn’t sure the woman could ever offend him. That was what made things so difficult.

The dinner was a pleasant one. Too often did Gurney deny himself the enjoyment of a nice meal, usually opting to scarf it down as fast as possible to return to his work. Of course he would never dream of disrespecting his royal family like that and remained seated for the entirety of the meal, listening silently to the conversations of the group.

When the dinner was done, they all stood. The Duke was the first to excuse himself, and Gurney quickly bowed to excuse himself, but could not begin to move away before Lady Moira stopped him. She turned and said a quick word to Jessica about meeting her in her library for a cup of tea before returning to the Warmaster, “I do hope you take leave for the rest of the evening. We’ve had a long journey, and I do not wish to see you over exert yourself,”

“It is not overexertion if I find the work pleasing, my Lady,” he replies simply, knowing she will disapprove.

She just gives him a look and asserts herself, “I mean it. Take the rest of the night off. Your men will last a few more hours without you,” her words are firm, and full of seriousness. But he knows she speaks from a place of concern, and her tone does not lack lightness.

He nods and replies, “If you insist, my Lady,” as if he would ever disobey an order from her.

Moira’s smile graced her lips once more and she nodded. Letting him go, she turns and walks out of the dining hall. He hardly notices his eyes following her until he turns and meets the eyes of the young Paul Atreides, a slightly mischievous smirk upon his face. Gurney looks at him unamused, “Just because your aunt has dismissed me from duty doesn’t mean she has done the same for you. Back to your studies, young pup,” he clasps the back of the boy’s shoulder before going to his chambers, the boy letting out an immature groan behind him.

Lady Moira’s private library was vast; filled with literature, histories, and journals from planets across the known universe, including her own records of things. A sturdy wooden desk sat proudly in the center, the full shelves lining the walls surrounding it. Two plush chairs sat by a window, turned in towards a small coffee table where the tea cup of the Lady sat steaming.

The Lady Jessica sat, cradling the warm cup in her slender hands as she watched her friend pace back and forth in front of the looming shelves. One a skilled Bene Gesserit, and the other a fearsome politician, Jessica and Moira shared many a whispered conversation in the cold room under the light of the glowglobe. They had been each other’s closest confidants since Jessica’s arrival as the Duke’s concubine, both in work and friendship. Between the two of them, it was nearly impossible for something to escape the castle unheard or unseen.

This particular night, Lady Jessica did most of the listening as the Marchioness relayed some of the more minute details of her recent escapade that she had yet to share with the Duke. Things like public opinions on their house and discrete conversations she’d heard. The Lady doesn’t miss as her friend’s shoulder’s grow more and more tense and she picks more harshly at the skin around her nails, as if there’s something building in her; bursting at the seems to be let out but being held back by the twines of self preservation. Jessica takes the liberty of snipping that thread.

“Something troubles you,” the words are direct, not a question, “You’ve heard something. Or seen it?” Jessica sips the hot liquid and keeps her eyes set on Moira’s avoidant ones.

Lady Moira lets out a deep sigh, her body deflating but maintaining it’s rigidity, “the waters we brave are rocky, Jessica,” the woman stands behind the chair she would have used if not for the anxiety keeping her on her feet and grips the backrest of it with firm knuckles, “Opinions of the name ‘Atreides’ grow stronger, in many ways.”

“But you always have stated that the positive dealings far outweigh the negative-”

“They do and that’s what worries me,” The Marchioness’ dark brows crease as she stares down at her knuckles, her eyes glossed over with thought, “we move further and further from a safe and steady neutral. More people across the known universe have a growing love and support for Leto, but this only means that those who wish to see him fall will rise to meet that demand. Rumors have begun to circulate surrounding me.. Some are saying that I wish to usurp my brother’s throne.”

Jessica sips her tea with no more urgency before replying to the Lady of the House. She was aware of these rumors that sometimes circled between the common folk who had nothing better to talk about sometimes than unrest within the royal house, but she knew better than anyone that these words weren’t true.

“Those that doubt your intentions are looking for theatrics where there are none. The Duke knows you have his best interests at heart. As do I. Leto would never believe these histrionic claims made about the person who has so vehemently supported his reign from the very beginning.”

Jessica’s eyes are drawn down to her Lady’s hands that burn a raw red around the nail beds, her eyes still not meeting Jessica’s own. “It’s not the rumors themselves that worry me, it’s where I’m finding them. Planets far away that have no prior attachment to the House Atreides and should not have any care for our politics. The eyes I have sent around the galaxy have seen them on planets the Duke has not touched.”

The cause of Moira’s concern becomes clear and Jessica lowers her teacup to her lap, “They’re being planted. Who would benefit from such whispers? An attempt to turn the people against the Duke or the Duke against you.. Is it a Harkonnen plot?”

“No no, it’s not the Harkonnens,” Moira moves from her previous spot and begins walking along the sides of the room near the door, listening for unwanted spectators, “They would benefit yes but they’re not the cause. It’s much too subtle of a plan and is being found far outside of their range of jurisdiction…” The Lady’s voice falters into a pause of hesitation and Jessica grips her cup.

“You suspect someone..?

Moira’s lips purse in hesitation as she reaches and locks the door before moving to Jessica. The Bene Gesserit mirrors the urgency, setting down her cup and standing to meet the woman’s gaze. Moira holds the Lady’s arm with a steady gentleness and whispers in her ear in a tone just above silence “the Emperor Shaddam.”

The Lady Jessica snaps her head and meets the dark eyes of the Marchioness for the first time this evening. There is no jest in them; no sense of uncertainty, only fear encased in an iron shell of will. The Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV, “you’re sure?”

“As sure as I can be,” Moira takes one of Jessica’s hands and clasps it in her own, “by spreading these rumors he allows a shadow of doubt to befall Leto. To us they seem completely unfounded but to others it could mean a lessening of their faith in him. Their validity and plausibility hardly matter. It’s simply the doubt in Leto’s ability he wishes to sow. But I believe this could all be part of a much bigger plot. Something much more sinister ..”

Jessica nods as the two women share a knowing look, “we must not fear…”

A smirk twitches in the corners of Moira’s lips “and we shall not,” she gives Jessica’s hands a light squeeze, “don’t worry yourself with this immediately, and do not mention what I have told you to anyone, not even Leto. I will tell him when the moment arises.. We’ve yet to know how deep these roots have grown and how many seeds have been planted. Being too hasty with things will only deepen the wound. I want you to focus your attention on Paul and his training. You may have set him up to help us in ways we do not yet know. Now, the hour is late. I will retire for the night and I advise you to do the same.”

The Bene Gesserit nods and soothes away the worry from her sea-glass eyes in a way only a Bene Gesserit could, “anything I come across will be brought to you,” and with that the woman slipped away into the darkness. Perhaps the women’s affinity for the shadows aided in their friendship. Moira knew that it certainly aided in their design.

As the door shut behind Jessica the Lady Moira allows her shoulder, brittle from the weight of everything on her mind, to crumble. Much of her dignity had lain in her ability to bear the burdens of her profession. She was not so caught up in her upbringing that she allowed herself to ignore the vast pleasures and ease of living she experienced on a daily basis, but the mental price was a hefty one. And she had no one to blame but herself for her involvement in it.

Moira collapses into one of the plush chairs, her hands coming up to rub her face in an attempt to push the thoughts from her mind. It was like the stress had made her whole body on edge. Everything felt elevated; from the throbbing weight of her braided hair being amassed on top of her head to the stinging of the torn skin of her fingers. She could hear the chastising of her brother in her head, ‘why do you torment yourself so? I know you do enough of it mentally for the both of us’.

It’s not until long after the Lady says she was going to head back to her chambers that she finally does so, saying a prayer to the gods that she would find rest easily despite knowing that was a hopeless wish.

Gurney always struggled to find sleep the first night after returning home. He put all his effort into adjusting to the schedules of whatever planet they may go to in order to maintain top performance, mentally and physically. He knew he was in extremely good shape for his age, even better than most men much younger than himself, but that didn’t mean he was ignorant to the extra effort it took to keep it that way.

When the second hour with no sleep had passed, he let out a heavy sigh before standing, pulling on a simple outfit and shoes to go take a walk through the castle in an attempt to clear his head and wear himself out

He was always on high alert when on a voyage with the Marchioness. That level of awareness could be hard to let go of upon returning. Her safety was Gurney’s number one priority the second their vessel left Caladan to the moment they returned. The Lady Moira had gone on diplomatic missions for years before Gurney was officially assigned to accompany her. She’s always been protected, sent with an entourage of guards. It had always been enough for her, especially in her early days as a young politician. People would pay her little mind and she was able to slink between conversations all she liked without much notice.

Of course it didn’t remain that way. As Leto became more popular, more attention also found its way to his envoy. When Leto heard there had been plots of an attempt on his sister’s life that nearly came to fruition, he spared no time upping her guards. Gurney distinctly remembers the moment, nearly two years ago, when the Duke had called him to his office and commanded that the Warmaster accompany Lady Moira on all future diplomatic missions. The man phrased it as if part of the reason was that it was important his master of war was just as just as tuned in to these foreign relations, but Gurney knew the most vital thing was keeping the Marchioness safe. One thing Gurney was certain of is that if one of the Atreides siblings was taken from the other, only tragedy would befall the one that remained.

And thus the Warmaster found himself in the company of the Marchioness of Caladan, Moira Atreides. Despite the fact that Gurney Halleck had served as Warmaster to the Atreides house for more moons than he could count at this point, it was only when Leto had officially assigned Gurney to accompany Lady Moira that he actually spent time with the Duke’s illustrious sister. For most of his service, he cared only for war and the protection of the Duke. He didn’t concern himself with politics much in the beginning. His only impression of the Lady was restricted to flashes of her dark hair and intricate gowns in the halls, or when he’d go to meet his Duke and find her there rambling things of great importance that would immediately stop the moment he entered the room. He knew the Duke thought of her highly, more so than almost anyone. That was enough for him to respect her.

Gurney would be lying if he said he didn’t find her a tad unnerving at first. Sometimes she would come into the training room to watch his training of the soldiers, her face devoid of any discernible emotion about what she saw, simply watching and then leaving without a word. She had an air of inquisition; like nothing said to her was safe from being fully examined and scrutinized. It had led to Gurney attempting to keep all of his interactions with her very brief, like she would somehow know things of him that he himself didn’t know and would sniff out something particularly displeasing that would have him removed from the Duke’s service. He’d seen the very thing happen to advisors who one day had been in very close conversation with the Duke, and the next were expelled due to the exposing of a more devious plot. He wished very deeply to never be on that side of her sharp bladed silver tongue.

Luckily, and a tad surprisingly, for him, the Marchioness’ disposition around trusted friends was much different from the air she held herself with professionally. He’d been surprised when, about six months into her service, she’d called him to accompany her. He’d adorned his entire ensemble, ready for whatever the lady might request, only to find out she wished to stroll in the gardens of the planet the royal family they were staying with on that particular journey. Gurney wasn’t sure how, or when, he had gained the good favor of his lady, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

Part of him felt some shame when he realized he’d expected her to be much colder. He’d only been used to seeing her in stuffy meeting rooms with a back as straight as a needle or in her offices writing furiously within her journals. This first day of leisure when he accompanied her allowed him to realize for the first time after an embarrassing amount of years, that Lady Moira Atreides was a woman who had found herself in her position merely by the chance of the universe. And that that position often left her in solitude far from the comforts of home. Despite the fact that that day in the garden’s he had done nothing but stand by her side and offer his gruff responses to her comments, she had decided that he was to be not just her colleague and guard, but her friend.

Looking back, he sometimes wished it wasn’t so; wished that he had been meaner despite how difficult it was to be mean to her. Then he would not find himself in her close proximity as often as he did. Then he would not know the feeling of her hand on his as she tries to get his attention. He wouldn’t know the feeling of her soft hair that sunlight soaked into as he moved it out of the way to adjust her necklace upon her request. Gurney found himself wishing he did not know of her softness so that he would not need to deal with its absence. He felt shrouded in shame as he knew his affections had surpassed those appropriate for a Warmaster and his Lady. Even breathing the same air as her felt like a vice.

Gurney couldn’t find the will to be surprised as the universe taunted him now and laughed in his face. Not even five minutes into his walk and he spots the Lady Moira. She stands alone in one of the vast corridors of Castle Caladan, only lined with windows that look out upon the oceans and cliffs of the planet. Her hair, usually woven up into various braids, now fell loose, like an inky,waving waterfall all the way down her back and to her hips. The Marchioness was shrouded in a thick, intricate robe. She didn’t seem to see the Warmaster, her dark brows furrowed in pensive thought. She always seemed to look that way when she thought nobody was looking; like worry had been etched into her face and the weight of her unsaid thoughts weighed upon her shoulders.

He tries to give a slight cough before speaking so as not to startle her too much, “are you unable to sleep, my Lady?”

Gurney hears the small, sharp intake of her breath as she turns to look at him, visibly relaxing a touch when she sees him, “Oh, Gurney. I apologize, I didn’t see you,” she turns her eyes back to the window, “yes I’ve had trouble finding sleep. Too much on my mind from the journey I suppose..” her words trailed off, like her mind was elsewhere.

He nodded in understanding and took only a few steps toward her, “me as well, my Lady. It is always difficult to find our footing again,” she nods and tries to give him a slight smile in reply, but the action is a forced one. The woman hadn’t been able to scrub the look of concern off her features, “If I may be so bold, my Lady, what is it that troubles you..?”

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, Gurney.”

“But if it would ease your mind then-”

“It’s nothing,” she says firmly, cutting him off. Hardly a few seconds can pass before he sees the regret fill her eyes with the way she had spoken to him. She breathes in and continues, “I am fine, I promise. I thank you for your concern, Warmaster Halleck,” Despite her tone easing, he doesn’t miss the remaining tension in her shoulders, nor the fresh irritated skin of her fingers as she wrings her hands together. But Gurney knows better than to push the matter further and simply nods.

A silence resonates between them before Gurney speaks again, “may I join you, my Lady?” Even with the torment it will no doubt bring him, he cannot deny himself the blessing of her presence.

This brings a soft smile to Moira’s face, “you know you needn’t ever request a place by my side, Gurney. You always have it”

Gurney cannot resist the twitch at the corner of his lips at her reply as he moves closer to her, “I always find it a good practice to ask. I’d never wish to offend you.”

Moira laughs softly, “I doubt you could ever offend me, Gurney Halleck,” his palms betray him as they grow sweaty, “if anything, I’d be offended that you’d think me so self important that I’d refuse,” a glint of moonlight twinkles in her deep eyes as she looks to him.

Her teasing encouraged him to relax. He knew the one thing that the Lady despised was when people neglected to speak freely or joke with her because of her status, “You simply surprise me that you find my company enjoyable, my Lady.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

Gurney couldn’t resist a chuckle at her question, “I am a difficult and stubborn old man. I can be crude in my tongue and set in my ways. Many consider me a rather woeful form of company.”

She does not deny him, a simple laugh of acknowledgement leaving her which he assumes will be the end of her reply before she tacks on, “but not to me.”

But not to me

Gurney can not find a reply as his tongue lays dry in his mouth. He hopes that his decision to leave her words ringing in silence seems like an intentional one, and not an obvious result of her leaving him with no amiable response.

Luckily for him, Moira seems content standing in silence for the next few minutes before she pipes up, “I really should go to bed. Thank you for keeping me company, Sir Halleck. Would you be willing to accompany me back to my room?

Yes.

“Should that please you, my Lady.”

Moira wordlessly links her arm with his like she had many times across many planets as he guides her through the familiar halls of the castle. Gurney finds himself hoping that his rigidity is one of the features his Lady is pleased with about him.

When they reach the large wooden doors of the Marchioness’ chambers she slips her arm out of his and moves to open her door, but stops to look at the Warmaster, “please do find rest tonight, Sir Halleck. Our world is not one that allows for much of it,” he sees that flash of worry flick in her eyes but he simply nods with a slight bow and bids her goodnight.

Gurney cannot rid himself of the feeling of the weight of her arm resting on his own the entire way back to his chambers.

#gurney halleck x oc #gurney halleck fanfic #Gurney Halleck x Original Female character #Gurney Halleck x Original Character #dune fanfic #gurney halleck #dune movie #dune #dune part 2 #dune part two

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inknopewetrust · 3 years ago

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relief // epiphany II

Summary: Paul’s visions have seen more than just his future, but fragments of your secrets and the difficult events to come. The quiet unveiling of those will bring something to fear.

Pairing: Duncan Idaho x Fem!Reader, Paul Atriedes x Aunt!Reader.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: language.

Quick Links: Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter // Series Masterlist

Why do we allow ourselves to take what we cannot have? A selfish greed grows within as we spy a privation below the depths of our deepest desires. It is where the sun is not allowed to shine, the moons turn their faces from such proclivities, and the shadows lie lurking in its marrow awaiting revelation.

Lust blossomed there.

Therefore, when lust is left to smolder amidst fleeting meetings and hushed whispers, a specific kind of love grows roots that thwart unsuspecting victims of its greatest tragedy.

That is what Arrakis summoned.

Arrakeen was a magnificent fortress. Smaller than other cities on the desert planet, Arrakeen was the center of cultural infusion its many residents brought. Aspects of the palace adjusted per ruler, the bronze art a depiction of the lands evolving history that now included your own. A symbolic reminder that whatever were to occur in the months, years, or decades House Atreides would rule, it’s impacts would be immortalized in the scriptures Arrakis wrote.

House Atreides had arrived three days prior. Greeted with plumes of dust and sand, the world was as you expected it to be. A planet filtered with auerlian skies, harsh weather, and unforgiving souls. The early days of arrival ticked by, sunrise after sunset reminding you as you fell asleep in a foreign bed, in a foreign world, your life would never be the same after this.

Four days established on Arrakis brought a change in pace. Paul wandered the compound with curiosity after the Hunter-Seeker was found after the second evening. It was a startling revelation that House Harrkonnen had not left this planet willingly—inclined instead to attempt an assassination from a system away. An ugly blemish now filled the wall where the spy was found. The sight was something Paul avoided, seeking enjoyment discovering the many unnatural elements Arrakeen retained in its place.

The sun had not reached its highest point at the time you ran into him in the long hall.

Paul stood staring at a piece of art depicting a sandworm emerging from its place in the dunes; projecting with an ethereal sparkle. On Caladan, art did not look like... that. It was not intricate with finely carved sculptures or elevated off the fabric as an extension. The young heir heard your shoes tapping across the stone and pointed to the sandworm’s mouth when you stopped beside him. You were offered a seat on Leto’s council that morning and chose not to hide away because you did not receive a permanent position.

You took what you could.

“Do you know what these are called?” Paul asked and you shook your head in response. “Relief sculptures.”

“Hm. I always fancied them for a rich man’s art. They’re too old world… too baroque for our tastes.”

“Are you offended by the culture here?” Paul thought your comments were based on the people. If the art inside the grandest palace in the city was displeasing, perhaps it were a reflection on its people.

“Paul, do you really think the people of Arrakis made these? They sit in a palace where ruling fiefs determine their place. If anyone was consigned to make such pieces, they were not sent here to do it willingly.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ Now, close your little gaping mouth and walk with me while I go meet with your father.”

Paul extended his arm as he had done on the day Leto signed your family’s name away. A finely raised boy, Paul was someone you were proud of. He put effort in learning, in caring, in trying, and everyone could see it too. The passion he had for what he was forced to do was something you wondered you would have been able to muster at his age. There was a reason Duncan called Paul ‘my boy.’ It was a reflection on the familial relationship they had but also the willingness of Paul to accept someone other than his father to teach him the ways of the world.

Paul was finally at the precipice of his knowledge. There were few moments to be more proud of.

“I had heard my father request your attendance. I am to attend two days from now, my first council meeting for House Atreides.” Even his voice was noble.

“It will go smoothly, if you are concerned at all about the discussions at hand. Do not be afraid to ask Gurney or me for help too. I’ll help you with the language if you need it.”

“Thank you, Y/n. I appreciate that a lot.”

“Eh, it gives me something to do. Otherwise I’ll be wasting away in this hot weather and pants. Your mother tried stocking my closet with only dresses and I had to go searching for these—“ you stuck a leg out in front of you so Paul could see without stopping; “—and you would not believe how hard it was to find them.”

“I’m sure it was.” The boy let out a chuckle and turned a corner at the end of the hall. “Will you be joining us on the tour this afternoon?”

"No, I am afraid I will not be able to. 'Other matters' require my attention." You rolled your eyes at him at the emphasis on 'other matters' because those duties fell on deaf ears. "But please enjoy the spice silos without me."

"I am more interested in what Thufir can tell me about this planet."

"Did you not hear the exciting news, Paul?" You feigned excitement as a surprise to him, causing him to narrow his brow and shake his head.

"What news? Did something happen?" The concern he had been fighting the last few weeks was aching to be heard. But Paul never got the chance to recall his dreams to you after that day. The move took up so much of his and your time that conversation had worn thin or it was in the presence of his parents, whom he believed did not need to know about what he saw about you.

"Thufir surely will not be the one telling you about the planet's secrets. Duncan is returning today. This afternoon actually."

"Really? Did my father receive contact from him? I asked two days ago and he said that no one had heard anything for weeks."

"Yesterday Leto caught word. Supposedly Duncan is bringing a Fremen man with him."

Paul's face lit up at the revelation and continued to tug you along the corridors. The joy in his wide steps evident as the destination grew closer and closer. You paused outside the door of the meeting room, turning to Paul whose face told the entire story. He was happy to have a dear friend return, a confidant who did not ask Paul to be someone he was not.

"That is wonderful news, Y/n. I am sure my father would not be happy that you told me but I am glad you did." His wording puzzled you. Glad. It was a diluted word for relieved.

"Why glad?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can be happy I told you, but glad and the way you said it makes me think you meant something else. Glad... perhaps relieved nothing had gone wrong?" Paul did mention how it had been weeks that no one had heard any word from Duncan. For the boy, the time was limited that he could fully confess his dreams and whether or not they were true. Only the information Duncan would provide upon his return would quell the concerns.

"Do you remember before we left I told you I had another dream?"

"Mhm, I do." You hummed, nodding your head in recognition. "You were acting strange about me, about Duncan, but Paul, I told you–"

"No! No, that is not what I mean. I am not trying to–I am not implying anything."

"Fair enough. What was it?"

"I saw Duncan die."

A beat of silence passed between you. You were not sure what to say.

"You saw him die?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I don't know. He was just lying there dead."

"Do you know where?"

"Somewhere on Arrakis. It felt as though if I had been there, it would not have happened. I don't know how to explain it..."

Although it was evident Duncan would return in a few hours, your heart plummeted to your stomach. That sinking feeling—where uncertain distress settled like a rock—filled you with a worry you had not had before. Of course, any mission the man went on could be the last but Duncan was the greatest warrior your family had ever seen. He put everything into a fight and survival was always the goal.

“Why tell me? Should you not warn Duncan instead? To be careful or more observant?”

“I did. I asked him before he left Caladan if I could come with but he said no. I told him what I saw.”

“And his reply?”

“He said not to worry about it; that he was not going to die.”

“And what does this have to do with me?”

“I saw you and Duncan in my dream, he was holding you like… like…” Paul trailed off, looking anywhere but your eyes as he tried to detail the scenes replaying in his mind that were far too personal for him to want to see. He was unfamiliar with the concept of love. He had never experienced it and for once saw it bursting with gentleness between two people he had not expected.

“You don’t have to say—“

“He said he loved you." That is why he asked if Duncan had loved you in Caladan.

“Oh.”

There was a lapse in that moment. The dreamed seemed plausible until then except Paul knew none of the following: one, that you and Duncan were indeed in a romantic relationship and two, neither of you opening admitted that you loved each other. It had never been said and it was clear that it never should be said because there is where the danger lies. A committed, formal declaration that transcended human experience from one of singularity to one of duality. The two of you knew it was there. It was impossible to deny when your eyes met across a crowded room and everything felt perfect. It was there when Gurney or Lanville mentioned you in passing and his heart beat faster like a love-sick school boy.

There had been a code if one of you decided you needed to express the feeling of love. It was a simple, breathtaking affirmation that meant devotion ran deeper than clandestine meetings on cloudy days. For me, there is no one else. There will never be anyone else.

‘I love you’ was the taboo. Paul’s dream was wrong.

“Paul,” you started softly to calm his nerves and thoughts. He had convinced himself that it could indeed be true but your knowledge of the current situation defused it. “That is not going to happen, do you know why?” He shook his head no.

“Because Duncan and I are not those people in your dreams. Not all of them come to be and I know you care about both of us enough to be concern but Duncan is a friend. You needn’t fret over his well-being simply because you see it in a dream. Not everything will come true. Remember that.”

“You’re sure? It just doesn’t feel like one.”

“I am positive, Paul. Now, I have to go so enjoy the tour and I will see you later.”

You squeezed a gentle hand on his thin arm and walked into the room without another glance. Paul sighed in comfort knowing that you could reaffirm what Duncan had claimed. However, you were less than satisfied with the conversation.

Even as you tried to convince yourself that all would be well, the sinking feeling never went away. The dread lingered and even as Leto talked his way through a new economic strategy, your mind wandered to the scene Paul had painted—Duncan dead and you left alone with the memory of him admitting love. It was a horrible thing to be left with.

“What do you think of these?”

“Y/n, what do you think of these? Are they alright?”

“Y/n!”

“Hm?”

You’re attention had been focused on a thin window overlooking the city. It’s bleak, one-note color palette a reminder that Arrakis was nothing like Caladan and none of you were supposed to be here. Paul’s mother, Jessica, had asked for your assistance picking out new cutlery and formal plates for the dining hall that would see many formal heads of houses dine with your own. The task was less than thrilling and you were left with your wits to carry you through.

“I was asking you about the napkins. Green or gold? Perhaps a blue?”

“Gold is fine. I really do not mind, Jessica.”

She folded the napkin in her hand, placing it back in the crate before turning to you with her arms crossed against her chest. It was a motherly pose—a scolding, inquisitive look that only those who had a child would wear and those who bore witness of it were awaiting a single question:

“What is going on with you today?”

“What do you mean?” You turned your head to her with a puzzled look. After Paul’s revelation, the informational but ultimately useless meeting, and now this trivial dining matter, your mind reverted to one thing. It was not as though you could tell her that.

“You aren’t present in this room.”

“Oh, don’t go all pseudo-religious on me. I’d rather not subject myself to that.” If your words were harsh, Jessica did not let them sting.

“I can see it in your eyes. You are as far away as Caladan even though are not a mere ten feet away.”

“Lack of sleep is to blame I am sure. You know how difficult it is to readjust.”

She nodded, looking wearily but picked up a cup that resembled a chalice from the box. She held it out toward you—sitting on one of the tables that had ornate carvings on its sides. You shrugged and she put it away to search for the next one.

“You know, if you are itching to find something else to do, Leto—“

“Do not tell me he only sent me here so you could do his bidding…”

“You’d be perfect there; we know it.”

The godforsaken spice refinery.

“I already told him no. I will tell him a million times if he cannot get it through his thick skull.”

Jessica sighed in a similar fashion as Paul had. You saw where he obtained many of his mannerisms.

“And who is ‘we?’ I know Leto turns to you for advice but as for my position in this family, it should be left up to me. I should be able to choose and I do not appreciate others making the choice for me.”

“We don’t always have a choice, Y/n. Sometimes we have to take the position we are given.”

Jessica was a fragile woman. When she needed to, she stepped up to her absent throne and decided what was best for Paul—fusing her future with his success. It was something you would never be able to do even if you were surrounded by powerful people. You were powerful in name, nothing more in most cases.

“Not all women are willing to bend at the will of someone else. These people here—“ you got up, moving toward the window and looking down on the city that was slowly being over taken by dust. “—they do not bend willingly to a new fief. The system is hypocritical. What the Bene Gesserit and the Emperor do is nothing for people down there, only for themselves.”

Jessica wanted to correct you. She wanted to tell you the ways she had learned, the futures that they had small hands in, but she didn’t. She let you fume in the dimly lit dining hall as if that were her job.

“Alright then.” Was all she said before turning once more to the crate and shuffling through the products.

Silence lingered for a short time before the sound of the heavy doors opening caught your attention—anything to get you out of this unproductive task. To your surprise, Leto walked in just enough to be seen and gestured to you. Jessica hid a smile at your respite. She would admit that the task was futile, wishing to spend her time elsewhere though she knew her duty as a Lady of a great house. The minute tasks needed to be taken on by someone—but that person was never you. Lady Jessica held no animosity toward your words of displeasure, she did want you to succeed in your passions one day.

“Want to meet a Fremen?“ Leto asked with a quirk of his dark eyebrows.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

There was an excitement in the unknown. The conceivable futures that laid between unspoken words; a chapter waiting to be written as two prominent men met. At least, that is what you thought it’d be like.

Leto had attempted reconciliation tactics without viewing any of the work you’d done. The admission in Caladan’s Great Hall that someone had been reading your solutions was a lie and that was seen through his policies and questionable tactics. As you walked through the hall to get to the location, armed soldiers flanked both sides as if an entire army was going to invade that very moment.

There was one single man being brought to Arrakeen. How much damage could he truly do?

“Is this necessary?” You asked Leto as you passed an open door with twenty-five more guards within the room.

“You can never be too cautious, sister.”

“It’s one man, Leto.”

“You’d be surprised how much damage one man can inflict.”

Leto extended his arm outside a room in the middle of the hall. The doors were open wide and at the end of it sat a long table to designate a power imbalance for the ruler and the ruled. A fitting space for the first meeting with a Fremen. You could have slapped Leto on the side of the head right then and there.

In front of the table stood all of the important figures of House Atreides. Paul, Thufir, Gurney, Lanville, and in front of them with his back turned to the both of you, Duncan Idaho in a stillsuit. They were all talking in low voices when the two of you arrived.

“Duncan!” Leto greeted him with an extended hand. Duncan turned, smiling proudly at your brother before flicking his eyes to you for a brief moment. The knowledge that he was here was soothing.

"My Lord."

The warrior bowed his head in the slightest, his hair done back in a short braid and the beard that he had taken with him from Caladan was gone. Your brother shook Duncan's hand firmly.

"It is good to have you back." Leto spoke as he retrieved his hand, walking up to the small platform to preside over the room. Leaving you to find your own position amongst the many men, you suddenly felt a thousand eyes on you, as if you had done something wrong. It was painfully obvious in that moment that Leto had never informed any of them of his intention to include you in the Fremen's welcome.

You were sure Gurney half expected you to turn around and leave the room.

Though Duncan Idaho had always known his place, and he always knew where yours should be too. There, in that room with men of very high stature, Duncan was not going to let you feel like an outcast in your own home–well, temporary home.

"Lady Y/n," Hearing him say your name after much time had passed felt like Cupid's golden arrow through the heart. "It is good to see you here." And those words felt like an accomplishment.

"It is, isn't?" You could not help the brazen smile that crossed your face. It was good to be there. "I am happy to made it back to us safely, Duncan. God only knows what House Atreides would do if you had not." You took a place beside Paul who gladly moved over to allow you the spot.

Paul stood silently as Duncan began to recite the events of his journey, the hundreds of sietches there were, the waiting game he endured in the hot desert sun for days before someone came. The entire time, he kept his eyes flitting between the men in the room with a purpose. He was not trying to draw any more attention to you than necessary but Paul found it odd. The way you both tipped your head down when you passed one another, a shameless feeling arose within him and he was not sure why. Perhaps his assumptions about you brought a discomfort now that you had to interact with a man he had implied loved you.

The last thing Paul wanted was to make anyone uncomfortable. Though he was able to brush it aside for a second as the warrior continued on.

"And I gotta tell you," Duncan started again as he detailed wandering the dunes. "I have never come so close to dying."

Paul felt your head turn toward his. The dream coming forward in three minds that it did not come true in the sands of Arrakis. Duncan had indeed found the Fremen and survived to tell the tale–one many would never be able to state. Relief lifted from the shoulders of all who knew and for once, Paul was certain his dream was nothing more than that.

He had been reassured by you that no romantic love existed between you and Duncan. He fought expertly against warriors who fought like demons, and now in the flesh, Duncan said he had never come so close to seeing the great beyond.

As Leto continued to awe at the idea of the desert power the Fremen had, a caller alerted the Duke of the visitors unwillingness to surrender his weapon.

"It's a crysknife. It's sacred to his people."

Making the decision to let the man pass with his weapon, Leto called the meeting into session. Behind a large stone table, House Atriedes prepared to welcome a Fremen leader into Arrakeen for the first time in many months. The intention was to wipe the slate clean and inform them of your families intentions on the planet, not to cause further conflict.

As Duncan made the pass behind the table, he glanced at you for the same reason you did him–unbridled, selfish love that grew from lust and forced every fiber of a person's being to be willing to make the briefest connections from a single link. In times such as these, where physical distance and secrecy kept you apart, a single glance was more than enough to say 'I'm here. I know you are too. Nothing has changed.'

Paul saw it too and that questionable feeling returned.

At the front of the room, the wide stone doors opened and in came a man on a mission with his cape billowing behind him. There was a regal flow to his movements that you hadn't expected, but the hardened look on his worn face increased the carelessness in his walk. As he approached the platform, Lanville warned him to stop and pulled his blade before Leto informed him it was alright. And then he removed his hood and his eyes were like you had never seen.

Glowing with a blue hue, he was as the books said. One who spends much time in the presence of spice were fitted with blue eyes. They surveyed the surroundings, looking at each member of House Atriedes with careful precision before inhaling, humming in agreement to whatever Leto said, and spitting on the floor before him.

Gurney lept and pulled his blade, Thufir was preparing to throw himself in front of Leto, but Duncan called out a "hold" before anyone could go any further. Stilgar, the Fremen man in front of you, looked as though he had no intention of harming any of you. With Duncan clearly un-alarmed by the man's actions, there was no fear to be had.

"Thank you, Stilgar, for the gift of your body's moisture. We accept it in the spirit in which it was given."

Duncan proceeded to spit onto the table in the same fashion, motioning to Leto to do the same. Leto followed suit and suddenly the conversation was off. An immediate decree of distaste pervaded the room; bouncing off the walls like a grave, proverbial ball of energy that Stilgar expected you all to know. No deal, no help, was ever going to be reached so long as colonizers remained on Arrakis.

"I believe your people and mine have much to offer one another."

"No. No, you are Outworlders. You come here for the spice, you take it, giving nothing in return." Stilgar shook his head nonchalantly—passing his eyes over everyone once more. He caught Paul’s eye for a moment longer than the rest before moving onto your own. A clear shift in recognition appeared on his face and he looked to Duncan.

"That's true." Paul spoke up.

"I know you've suffered at the hands of the Harkonnen. Name what you want. If it's in my power to grant, I'll give it and ask for nothing." Leto continued what Paul did not say.

"I ask for this: do not seek our sietches. Do not trespass on our lands. The desert was ours long before you came. So, come and dig your spice, but when you have it, go back to this side of the shield wall and leave the desert to the Fremen." It was abundant in his voice this was a warning.

Gurney peered over into Stilgar’s face with his own. Narrowing his eyes at the unfamiliar, foreign man, and spoke with just as clear intentions: "You will address the duke as 'my lord' or 'sire'"

"Gurney, just... just a moment." Leto held up a hand to silence the boiling dispute. Given what Duncan had said about their fighting abilities, Gurney may be no match for the Fremen called Stilgar.

"The Emperor has given me Arrakis as my fief to rule and protect. I cannot promise not to travel into the desert if duty compels me. But your sietches will be yours forever. and you will never be hunted there while I govern here."

"That's very honorable…” Stilgar pondered off, picking off where he was in your direction. Nodding off to Duncan with a tilt of his head, his words nearly spoiled everything. “Is this her? She is very pretty.”

Half of the rooms heads went whipping in Duncan’s direction while the others went ready to force Stilgar from the room. Leto leaned onto the table with two closed fists and rose his eyebrows high at him.

“You do not speak to her, you do not speak of her. You have been an amiable man thus far and I will not muster an image of you from one fell comment, but never speak of my sister that way.”

The language your brother used unsettled you. Here, in a room where reputation and presentation meant everything, Leto was handling you like a dog. Someone to be pushed around and ordered, fragile and incapable of protecting or determining your own interests. You understood his need to be a masculine figure in his own home, however, the Fremen were no strangers to women being warriors, wives, and impressive beings.

Stilgar’s intent was not hidden with any ill-will. Duncan had divulged more information the the Fremen he met than with anybody in the room, you just happened to be there and Stilgar just happened to make the connection. As unbothered as he had been when he entered the room, Stilgar simply nodded and turned to leave.

“I must go. That's all I have to say to you."

"Won't you stay? We would honor you." Paul asked before he could get too far. Would Leto truly promise to honor him now?

"Honor requires that I be elsewhere." He then stated something unrecognizable in his native language. Paul remained puzzled as the room’s shoulders were lifted with ease as the man left without another word. Leto was disappointed in the trajectory, angered the Stilgar mentioned your presence, and looked to the future for new paths to take.

The Duke refused to inquire why Stilgar had known who you were or what unknown words he had directed at Paul. Those were battles to be had at another time. So he dismissed you all with nothing further to accomplish that day besides one final pat on the back for Duncan and a cloud of resentment hanging over your head.

There was a tradition every time a member of a specific elite guard would return from a major mission that required two things: first, gifts no one asked for and two, drinks.

You sat back against the wall as a swell of laughter filled the air from something Gurney had just said. The established common space for the soldiers of House Atreides functioned more as an inn than a residential space but it broke up the order of the floors above. Fewer eyes watching every move, a welcome ability for silly laughter and one man’s crude jokes. Beside you the older man sat lurching his arms forward on his knees. A half drank glass in his hand, Gurney Halleck wanted nothing more than the memories of today’s unfortunate meeting to disappear.

He was the one to hand you a glass, clinking it with a sorrowed look of recognition that yes, Leto had stepped too far even if he was the first one to say he did not like Stilgar in the slightest. Gurney knew you could handle yourself in these kinds of situations—it was a damn shame your brother did not see it that way. Duncan and Paul sat on the bench across from yours.

"Here, this is for you." Duncan let the laughter settle and handed Paul a wrapped package before taking a sip of his drink in anticipation. Paul unwrapped it to find a type of compass he had never seen before.

"It's a paracompass. The moons here have a magnetic filed, so a simple compass won't point north. Takes a clever piece of clockwork to sort it out."

"The Fremen make these?" Paul felt the device in his hand, running his thumb over the center where it opened and a soft ticking sound emitted from it.

"And stillsuits, and sand compactors, and all kinds of ingenious things." Duncan replied with a smile, clearly appreciative of the time he spent with the Fremen.

"What the hell is a sand compactor?" Gurney huffed, gaining a laugh from Lanville and others who decided to gather around the space. Duncan reached for a device that appeared more like a large flashlight than something that compacted sand and handed it to Gurney.

"That's a sand compactor."

"My god, man, you've gone native."

The chuckles from everyone and the smile that found itself on Paul's face was enough for you to know that for one night, Arrakeen was filled with a delight it had been missing. It was as though a puzzle had retrieved its final piece and balance in the firm was restored. Duncan divulged his gratitude of the Fremen, the admirable qualities each possessed as part of the deserts function. Paul was enamored by it. The idea that one day he may be able to experience the same beauty and understanding Duncan returned with was hopeful.

You caught Duncan's eye as Paul admired the compass once more, looking pointedly at your Nephew, nodding your head to tell Duncan that he did well with the gift. The gleam in Duncan's eye was something you would never forget. At the same time, Gurney handed off the sand compactor so others could ooh and ahh at the foreign device.

"You get anything for the rest of us?" Gurney asked impatiently as compactor was no longer holding his attention. Duncan scoffed, looking beside him where a single vial of sand sat upright.

"My god, Gurney. You don't sound greedy at all..." You sipped at your drink as the Warmaster shot you a glare from the side, knocking his fist against your bent knee.

"Here." Duncan held out the vial. "You can wipe your ass with it if it doesn't suit you."

You choked on your drink, coughing forcibly at the comment as the others laughed. Gurney patted your back but you shook him off, insisting you were fine.

"I'm alright, I'm alright..." You cleared your throat and pushed the cup away from you and into Gurney's hands. "I think that may be a sign for me to retire for the evening." Standing against a few protests, you motioned to the door to Paul.

"You joining me or no?"

"I think I'm going to stay. Gurney has yet to grace us with a song, and I want to be here to catch it this time."

"Ah, the infamous baliset. Well, enjoy it without me."

"You don't want to hear it? I'll sing you a love song, Y/n!" Gurney exclaimed loudly, throwing his hands in the air as you made your way closer to the archway.

"I hardly doubt this will be my last time to have you serenade me, Gurney Halleck. Good night everyone!" You waved goodbye, having one foot over the threshold as Duncan Idaho called out for you to wait.

"Hold on!" Across the room glances were drawn, conversation's acoustic lowered. "I'll walk you."

Paul watched as you silently accepted his company. The boy would have thought little of it because Duncan had been a friend for many years, but it was Gurney's subsequent comments that diminished any sense of relief the days moments had brought him. Worn thin by the possibilities of his dreams coming true, Paul was certain you and Duncan would never lie to him and had reassured him that the dream was nothing more than that–a dream.

But then he remembered the feeling that stirred within him as Stilgar made an unfounded comment about your presence in the room. He implied that Duncan had at least described you to him, the looks he was not able to place, and suddenly, the consistent denial began to look like a shield. Gurney Halleck's snickering reaffirmed that.

"What is it?" Paul asked him, uncomfortably chuckling on his own as he changed positions and sat on his hands.

"I mention a love song and he goes running."

"Perhaps Duncan just doesn't want to be the subject of your loneliness." Lanville jabbed. Paul ignored the comment and pressed Gurney again.

"Why would he go running?" Gurney provided him with one simple answer: the furrow of his brows. It was in that moment Paul knew he had been missing something that was right in front of him.

"I know you're a kid..but are you that daft, son?"

"Duncan doesn't love Y/n. They're friends. They've been friends since I was a child."

"Maybe we should give them credit." Gurney looked to his fellow soldiers who shared a similar response. "They've managed to convince one!"

"How do you know that is what is going on? Surely it is just speculation." Paul prayed between every word that was told to him was the truth. No lies, no possibility of death.

"Paul," Gurney moved to sit next to him and patted him on the back like a father. "One day, you'll realize that love takes many forms. People do not need to be superficially romantic to for it to exist."

"But that does not mean it exists between them."

"I know you care about both of them... we have never said a word about it to your father if you are worried about any repercussions but Paul, the next time you find yourself in the presence of them both, just watch and you'll see it too."

"It really is not that difficult to miss."

Relief long forgotten, the boy who had been forced to possess these dreams was left with the truth: Duncan had not yet experienced the battle that would end him, you had lied to protect yourself from either harm to both reputation and secret emotion, and between the stolen stares and distant laughs, Paul had been convinced that the two people he respected most told him the truth.

In reality, it was a game of chess with three players. Two lovers and a boy waltzing around truth and lies to maintain harmony.

Paul stared at the archway where you both had left minutes before with the same sickening feeling he had on Caladan. In Arrakeen's halls, two bound souls were sprinting toward a finish line that Paul could not change.

It felt as though everyone had been sent to Arrakis to die.

Nothing good would come from this planet.

A/N: Next part will be majorly Duncan x reader based now that the setting has allowed it (I had to break this one into two). Thanks so much for the response to the first part, I am truly so thankful for the support. Any thoughts are highly encouraged! :)

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Tag List: @mistalli @srodulvroux @howlerwolfmax @trifoliumviridi @carlimel @charmingvalkryie @whovianayesha @joficrec @sunsetmando @rogue-barnes-durin--mainblog

Disclaimer: any dialogue taken from the film belongs to Jon Spaihts, Denis Villenueve, and Eric Roth (Screenwriters).

#dune x reader #dune 2020 #dune #duncan idaho x reader #duncan idaho #duncan idaho x female reader #duncan x reader #jason momoa #jason momoa x reader #paul atreides #leto atreides #lady jessice #gurney halleck #fanfic #x reader

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