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kasagia · 29 days

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Right hand

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You were his right-hand (wo)man after he saw you in combat during your training on the Bene Gesserit. He freed you from them and turned you from a Bene Gesserit into a faithful soldier who took care of all his dirty business. Getting rid of the bodies of the people he killed, organising opponents for him to fight, poor people on whom he could vent his anger and desire for bloodshed, or even concubines. You were his eyes and ears in the baron's court. You reported everything to him, being more effective than any Bene Gesserit. But he wants more... much more. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; bathing together; dagger play; breeding kink? I guess; a lot things happening; my first time for Feyd so I'm a little nervous😅; enjoy!; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

It wasn't your choice to undergo Bene Gesserit training. Your mother abandoned you when you were a little baby and took you to these terrible women, leaving you to their mercy.

You hated them. Their entire organisation, which included planned breeding, aimed at creating the Kwisatz Haderach. To you, these women were a sick cult that you were reluctant to be a part of. You trembled with fear, thinking of the day when they would send you to extend the genetic line of a nobel family by lending your womb or to ensure that their plans succeeded.

However, you realised that you had little say in the matter. The Bene Gesserit would find you anywhere if you tried to run and hide. You were doomed to follow the orders of your crazy old reverend mother and wait in fear for the day when you could prove your usefulness.

But one day, you crossed paths with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And for a very long time, you considered it a real gift from fate. The first happy turn of events in your tragic life.

He was on a diplomatic mission. He was being shown around by the princess of your planet, and they happened to be attending the training of the Bene Gesserit sisters. You immediately caught his attention. Your movements were smoother, full of the passion of a true warrior. You charmed him so much that, at first, he thought you had put a spell on him. After seeing your potential and your obvious dislike for your sisters, he took you with him to Giedi Prime.

He faked your death so the Bene Gesserit sisters wouldn't come looking for you. He made you his right hand, his most trusted soldier. It was only after years of service under the Na-Baron that you realised that you had entered a much worse hell than any plans the Bene Gesserit had for you.

Feyd Rautha was supposed to be your personal devil. But first, you saw him as your saviour.

An animalistic, bloodthirsty scream resounds throughout the na-baron's private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow she received from the furious man. You enter the room just as Feyd pierces him with his sword, causing drops of blood to land on your face.

You wipe them away, undeterred by the na-baron's brutality. Years of service had accustomed you to all the acts of cruelty he was capable of. At least this time, the dead man's entrails didn't spill around him. You hated calling his harpies to the feast. Despite so many years spent at the side of the baron's favourite nephew, you never got used to his concubines. They made you feel strangely uneasy.

"My lord, na-baron." You say, announcing your presence. Feyd breathes heavily and shifts his mad, furious gaze to you, not noticing your entrance until you speak.

You walk past the body, avoiding the pool of blood, and hand him a towel. He takes it from you without a word, wiping the sweat and blood from his head, chest, and back. You ignore his exposed muscles and kneel next to the man on whom he took out his anger, preparing to carry him out of the room before the next opponent/toy shows up.

"You were right. That old fool entrusted Arrakis to my brother. He will embarrass our family in one day. Ha! Even half is enough for him! This wretch doesn't know how to manage a small province, let alone an entire planet with fremen ready to attack at any corner." He says, rubbing himself furiously. He throws a towel into the corner of the room and walks to the table to pour himself something to drink.

"He gives him a chance to prove himself. When he wastes it, you will get it and prove to the baron and the lords that you are rightfully entitled to the title of baron." You say, securing the body so the guards at the door can carry it out.

"Every fool knows that. It's obvious that I'm a better choice than this scoundrel, who will sell the secrets of our family and swear allegiance to anyone who threatens his life. Baron throws a party in his honor. To the success of his mission. He's just doing it to piss me off. He doesn't give a damn about Rabban or whether he succeeds. This is just another of his tests on me. That's why you're coming with me. I've already sent for a dress for you." You look up at him with your surprised gaze. You're even more shocked when he reaches out his hand to help you up—something you didn't expect from him in his white, burning rage state.

"A dress?" You ask, taking his hand. You hold your breath, keeping yourself from gasping, as he lifts you off the floor with one strong pull. Unprepared, you bump completely onto his chest, not being able to keep your balance.

You freeze at the feeling of his muscled body close to yours. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline he felt while killing this poor man. You tense up, seeing his icy-blue eyes already staring at yours. He starts giggling darkly as he presses you tighter against him so you can feel every muscle of his.

"Is there a problem? Would you prefer to come naked? I wouldn't mind, but…”

"I'm simply surprised that you want me there officially. I usually sneak there. I watch from the shadows. Well, you know." You interrupt me before he can insinuate anything, and with his silent permission, you move a decent distance away from him, leaving his arms.

You always had to be careful when making moves like this. You saw how he punished for minor offences, just for breathing. And you didn't run away from the Bene Gesserit with him to lose your life because of one of his… impulses. Although he has never put you in any serious danger, which was strangly amazing, since all of the servants who worked for him (and are still alive) have experienced his wrath on their bodies at least once.

"I know. But this time, I need you by my side. Not in hiding. My birthday is coming up—the most important of them all. I want to know what my uncle will come up with. Maybe you can find out something from the Lords. Besides, why wouldn't I want to have such beauty on my arm?"

"You want a woman by your side so you can humiliate your brother before he leaves? Perpetuate in him a sense of belief that you are superior, even if you don't have power over Arrakis right now?"

You see his hands tighten on his blades. You purse your lips, realising you were too quick to question his intentions. Basic mistake. You shouldn't have tested the waters when you knew Feyd was already on the end of his patience.

He takes a step towards you, entering your personal space. You swallow and lift your head to meet his gaze. This wasn't the first time he had intimidated you, tested you, carefully gauged your reaction, and waited until he finally saw the fear in your eyes. But you never gave him that satisfaction. If the Bene Gesserit taught you anything, it was that fear was weakness. A weakness you could tame... at least enough not to show it to anyone else.

So you endure his piercing, burning gaze with indifference. You stay like that even after a small smirk starts to appear on his face. You wonder how many people before you saw that smirk and stared into those night-black eyes on Giedi Prime as they passed from this world.

"That pink little tongue of yours will get you into trouble one day, my little witch." He purrs, his tone low and dangerous. He reaches up to your face with his free hand and gently runs his hand through your hair, caressing your cheek and jaw with the pad of his thumb. "Possible. I'm a na-baron... don't I deserve the best?" He looks defiantly at you, throwing you the proverbial gauntlet. He's waiting for you to stumble. For open defiance of his order.

You don't understand why, but he's been acting like this more and more lately. He made ambiguous comments, carefully watching your reaction. It was something new—a change in his behaviour that you hadn't figured out the reason for yet. But you had too much on your mind to think about it any longer.

"I can prepare you a beautiful concubine perfect for Giedi Prime standards." You suggest at which he shakes his head, laughing hoarsely. He turns his back to you and pours himself another glass of water.

"It's not necessary. I want you. Go and get ready. I'll join you in two hours when I'm done here." He says just as the door opens to reveal the soldiers you called for to take the body away and who have brought him a new drugged opponent. Feyd licks his lips, flips the blade up, and catches it, making a little show before lunging at his toy.

"As you wish, my na-baron." You say before leaving him to get ready for the party. Another warrior's scream echoes off the walls of the chamber as Feyd unleashes his anger on him.

You scan the room carefully, standing with your glass against the wall in a more crowded part of the room. You try your best to blend in with the crowd, but with your hair down, it's not that easy. Even if you try to cover your hair, you can feel people's curious gazes on you. But the worst ones are the burning gazes of the lords on you, some of them too lustful to be able to feel comfortable.

If you could, you would hide in the shadows, as usual, and observe them without being the centre of attention. You felt like a monkey in a circus or an exotic animal at an exhibition. The cold hand on your shoulder reminds you why you can't do this. You turn around to once again meet the na-baron's intense gaze today.

"You look good." He says as his eyes carefully scan the black latex dress with cutouts on the sides that reach down to your hipbones. "But I don't remember having that metal corset disguised as armour and that ridiculous chain veil sent to you along with the dress."

"I almost mistook this rag for a nightgown. I had to wear something on it. They think I'm your whore anyway; we don't have to prove it to them." You respond to his taunt and turn towards him. He is wearing black, formal armour, which is perfect as an official outfit.

"Do you find it scandalous to be my whore, little witch? Maybe even disgusting?" You meet his gaze to roll your eyes at him, at which he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don't like this closeness, but there's nothing you can do to push his hand off of you. You are in public. Such a gesture towards him would be equivalent to a death sentence.

"I see nothing... honourable or good in being anyone's whore, my na-baron." You say, gently moving away from him so as not to lean on him as much.

"Have you seen anything noteworthy?" He asks, unfazed by your trying to move away from him. He pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter and making your back rest against his chest. His fingertips brush against the exposed skin, caressing your hipbone.

You frown, turning your head to look at him. He's never been so... clingy before. He always respected your personal space and never touched you. You blame it on his desire to tease his brother, who is staring at you intently from across the room, and you shift your gaze to the people present at the party.

"Several lords congratulated your brother. However, there are rumours and beliefs that he will not be up to the task. Some also believe that you will slit his throat before his ship leaves for Arrakis."

"This idea crossed my mind. If you hadn't brought this information to me earlier, you would probably have had to deal with making the public believe in his… tragic and sudden death from natural causes."

"Natural causes; I wish I could see that." You scoff, finishing your drink. You turn around, leaving his arms, and set your glass down on the table. When you turn to him again, he holds out his hand for you to take.

"You'll see if you don't entertain me. I'm bored, and looking at this smug idiot isn't helping my patience or my ability to restrain myself. Dance with me, my little witch."

"You're interrupting my work." You complain, taking his hand. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you around, pulling you tight against his chest. He holds you close to him, perfectly placing his steps and moving to the beat of the music. He is as fluid in dancing as he is in fighting. Flawless as always.

"I'm your work. You are my right hand; you meet all my needs. I don't think I need to remind you of that, do I?" He asks in challenge, taking your chin between his two fingers as he looks at you carefully. You only smile at him in a sweet, artificial way. He laughs, fully aware of how fake this act is, and drops your chin.

Over the years, you discovered that he liked it when you teased him and responded to his taunts with your own. Of course, only when no one could hear it, and not very often. He had a reputation to uphold. He couldn't afford for anyone to see his right-hand (wo)man mocking him. Unbeknownst to you, he found it adorable the way your eyes lit up whenever you did something mischievous.

"Of course not, my na-baron."

"Good." He nods at your words. He takes his eyes off you for a moment and focuses on something behind your shoulder. He leans down, his cheek brushing against yours. You shiver at the sudden closeness, his scent becoming more distinct as you inhale it wholeheartedly. It's captivating. Sweet. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Just like him. "Do you have your daggers?" His hot whisper reaches your ear. He's so close, you can almost feel his full lips brush against your earlobe.

"Yes, why?" You ask, perfectly masking the tremble in your voice. But you doubt whether you can hide from him how your heartbeat speeds up. You blame it on the adrenaline rush. Not fear caused by his proximity.

"It seems to me that you will soon have to prove to these imbeciles once again why I chose you to be my right-hand man." He explains as the song ends.

You feel him reluctantly release you from his embrace and take a step away from you. You turn around and see his brother walking towards you, his right hand following him, giving you a mischievous look and a lecherous, mocking smile when he sees your outfit. You straighten up, lifting your head proudly at the man in a similar position to yours. The difference between you was that you served the stronger Harkonnen. It would give you an inviolably higher position if, like them, you had a penis between your legs.

"Brother. You finally brought your pet to play with us." Rabban says, nodding to his brother. You feel a wave of disgust as his gaze lingers on you longer.

Feyd tenses, furious, as his brother's eyes are all on you. You wouldn't have noticed if his hand hadn't been on your hip bone a moment later, hiding some of your exposed skin from his brother's eyes. You wonder what his problem might be. After all, he chose this dress for you by himself.

"Be careful. She doesn't have a muzzle. I would prefer that no harm come to you before you go to Arrakis. She's got some pretty... sharp teeth." He says it condescendingly, pulling you closer to him. In a perfect world, you'd kick them both in the groin. Unfortunately, you don't have that luxury. You can only imagine putting these two pseudo-alpha males in their place. But how sweet these dreams are...

"What about a small competition? My man against yours? Let's see what this mysterious beauty that you keep hidden can really do." Rabban's right-hand man gives you a cocky, confident look. He plays with the dagger in his hand, making a poor show that was intended to intimidate you. You roll your eyes behind your metal chain veil and shift your gaze to Feyd. You are only subject to his orders. Not some weak, pathetic creatures.

"This party is already dead. Do you want to kill also YOUR pet?" Feyd mocks him, and you almost break your unflappable, emotionless attitude, barely holding back your laughter. Na-baron sees this and smiles to himself, rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb on your hipbone.

"Are you afraid that she won't heat your bed anymore?" Feyd narrows his eyes at him. You feel his fingertips dig painfully into your hip as he tries to keep himself from lunging at his brother with the blade. You know full well that the eyes of the lords, the baron, and most of the people at the party are turned towards you.

"I have no doubt whatsoever about the outcome of this little skirmish. She will just sweat unnecessarily. And I would rather have her in full strength tonight." He says it in a mocking tone, shifting his gaze towards you. He licks his lips and tightens his grip to make his lewd intentions towards you clear to the two men.

Despite his famous reputation, he never touched you. Giedi Prime society might have thought otherwise, but in the years you had served as his right-hand man, he had never once taken you to bed or had you entertain him at night. You appreciated it immensely, which is why you accepted such behaviour from him without batting an eyelid whenever you were in public. It was all a game to maintain the reputation he had built over the years. Or so you thought.

"Feyd, boy, release your pet. Let her entertain us." The baron's words interrupt any skirmish that might have developed between the brothers.

It was not uncommon at Giedi Prime parties for soldiers to fight against each other to entertain the crowd. You just didn't think that you would have to fight someone during your first official arrival at the party. Although you should have anticipated such an unexpected turn of events. The baron and Rabban would not miss the opportunity to find out how much you were really worth and why Feyd, out of all the talented soldiers, chose the Bene Gesserit as his right-hand man.

You send a quick glance at Feyd. He gives you a small nod, so you bow to the baron and prepare to fight. The crowd around you parts to form a circle. You feel people's excitement as you flip the metal chains from your face to your hair, revealing more of your face. You wrap the shawl around your hair, tying it tighter and making sure it won't get in the way of your fight.

You look at your opponent, who is also preparing, trying to spot any of his weak points before the fight even begins. Rabban says something in his ear, which causes the manly smile to grow. Feyd stands in front of you, blocking your view of them. You look into his steel blue eyes as he leans towards you.

"Don't hold back." He whispers in your ear, handing you his blade. "And finish it quickly. We have other things to do."

You nod at him. He walks away from you, sending a mocking smirk at your opponent. He spreads his arms, taking a few steps back, as if inviting him to try his hand at you. You feel the burning gaze of his eyes on your back as you position yourself in front of the man.

"Don't worry, witch. If I win, I won't kill you. It's a shame to waste such a pretty face. I wonder if you're as good as the rumours say. Your pussy must be good to keep the na-baron entertained for so long." He says, waiting for you to activate your shield. But you don't do this. You want to completely humiliate him and give everyone in the room a clear message about your power and that you didn't secure your place just by having a pretty face. The crowd cheers, but you think you can hear Feyd growl furiously amidst the shouts of approval.

"I doubt you'll have the chance to find out." You say, and without waiting for his next words, you attack.

After the first few attacks, you figure out his tactics. He is physically strong, it's true, but that's his only advantage. It attacks you in a learned way, repeating its patterns. You read him quickly and position yourself to use his strength and mass against him. You could have walked up to him a long time ago and slit his throat, but you know it would be much better if you had some fun with him. You will show that you have complete control over the course of this fight.

You dodge the man's punches, and after a few minutes, you quickly get bored when you once again manage to kick him and send him to his knees. You take advantage of the moment he gets up from the floor to glance at your na-baron. Feyd doesn't look happy with your introduction. Of course, you see his interested look and how he appreciates your skills, but he doesn't look at you like he usually does. He doesn't wait with bated breath for your next move, like the crowd around you does. You can tell from his face that he wants you to finish this as soon as possible. You frown, surprised that he of all people doesn't enjoy watching the fight. You wonder what the hell is wrong with him.

Your moment of inattention is, of course, immediately exploited by your opponent. You manage to fend off the man's blade, but not his kick, which sends you landing on your butt on the floor. You feel rage more than pain; you only see red when you hear the cocky laugh of the man you are fighting with. You're so focused on driving the blade into his body that you don't notice Feyd's angry look, the murder in his eyes, and the desire to rip your opponent apart with his own hands as you fall to the floor. And you certainly don't see the trembling of his hand, as he instinctively wanted to grab you and pull you safely behind him.

You strike once, quickly driving the blade into the man's stomach and leaving it there. You push him to his knees, push away the hand that holds the sword, and reach for the dagger hidden in the sleeve of your dress. You strike a second time, piercing his shoulder. You stick the second dagger into his hand and knock the weapon out of his hand, taking it from him. You grab the man's throat in a tight grip and tilt his head back. You lean over him, a mocking smirk on your face as he struggles to breathe.

"I didn't even take off my high heels." You mocked him as you slit his throat.

You smile victoriously as you decapitate him. His head rolls at your feet, blood splattering your dress and face as you breathe heavily. You sigh, feeling your heart pound in your chest, as you bow to the crowd surrounding you as they shout and applaud you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rabban's sour, angry expression. You kick the head of his right hand towards him and give him a small smirk. You stand upright as you meet the eyes of your na-baron.

And then you saw it. Hunger in his eyes. Pure lust and desire, as his pupils were wide and solemnly focused on you.

You knew that gaze. He only looked like that at things he really wanted. Only his favourite concubines got THAT look from him or a beautiful, precisely made weapon that fit perfectly in his hands. Usually he had that look in his eyes right after the great battle he won. He would lock himself with his concubines and then spend long hours in his chambers, giving himself completely to his primal instincts.

You shiver as he walks towards you, ignoring anything else in the room. He grabs you tightly by the throat, and, to the delight of the drunken crowd who are screaming madly with excitement after the show you had made, he kisses you.

It is hard, hungry, and passionate. His hand completely removes the metal chains and shawl that were covering your head, and he pulls you to him as close as possible. His grip on your hair and throat is tight as he demands that your mouth be opened for him by biting your lower lip. You moan involuntarily, causing his tongue to slip into your mouth, as he is exploring new territory with a zeal you've never seen from him.

He pulls away from you when you're completely out of breath. Your vision is blurry, your heart is pounding from the adrenaline of the fight, and you can only stare at him stupidly and blankly while trying to understand what just happened.

Your eyes widen as he licks his lips, lust still burning in his eyes as he takes in your panting form and swollen, red lips. A trickle of blood drips from your mouth after he bit into it a few minutes ago. As you taste your blood on your tongue, you realise the terrifying truth.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen desired you.

Feyd strokes your neck, which is still in his tight grip. His eyes travel from your lips to your neck, to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, and to your hips, which were starting to bruise from how tightly he held them in the moments before your fight. Suddenly, everything starts to fall into place for you. His strange, unusual behaviour, the flirtatious comments, the long stares, and his more frequent attempts to hold you close to him and touch your exposed skin are starting to make sense.

You were screwed.

Completely and utterly fucked up.

You've been avoiding him since that night. More than any Reverend Mother or Bene Gesserit. Which was a very difficult task, considering how many things you had to do as his right hand.

But, luckily, you managed to avoid being alone with him. Of course, it couldn't last long. You knew him very well, and you knew that eventually he would try something and come for you. But you tried to deceive yourself by living the lie that his desire would pass and his concubines would effectively take care of him.

If he noticed your attempts to stay away from him, he never mentioned it. Of course, he chased after you when he saw you walking alone down the hall, but you never gave him a chance to catch up with you. He may have grown up here, but you knew the palace like the back of your hand. And all the nooks and crannies you could hide in from him.

So you actually managed not to get close to him for a very long time. Until it was time to train a unit of soldiers directly subordinate to him.

"Y/N!!!" You're sure all of Giedi Prime could have heard his scream. You sigh, calming down as you continue your walk to the arena. You step out into the black sun, carefully watching the men training. You walk up to him and bow to him.

"My lord na-baron." You say it politely, unfazed by the fact that he's practically seething with rage. You were more used to dealing with him like this than when he was horny... or worse, kind. You would turn on your shield if you knew it wouldn't make him fall over the edge and start murdering everyone he could.

"Take your blade. None of these piles of useless muscles know basic defensive moves. Look, you all! You have to learn this by the end of the day, or next time you will enter this arena as my opponent!" He walks over to one of them, probably to either stab him or adjust his position, leaving you to get ready. You tie your hair up so it doesn't bother you during a fight and choose your blade.

You gasp in surprise when you are suddenly pushed. You turn around quickly, trying to keep your balance as you face the na-baron. You move your hand to activate your shield, but his voice stops you:

"Don't. I have to show them how to do it. No shield." You know he's lying, and that's not why he doesn't want you to turn on your shield, but you don't say anything. You just nod and prepare to get into a defensive position.

He attacks you quickly. Very quickly. You've trained with him before, and you have to admit, he's never been this… brutal with you.

You go through different positions with him until you finally stop following the textbook fighting patterns and start fighting seriously. You keep up with his movements for a long time, blocking his blade with yours and dodging attacks that you have no physical ability to block, but he keeps pressing against you, not letting you rest or trying to return the favour with one of your attacks.

You gasp in surprise when he trips you, sending you to the ground. You block his swing at you with your blade and kneel in the sand, trying to get up, but he's pressing too hard against you with his sword for you to move. You use all your strength to push him away from you. Feyd growls, throwing his sword aside, and simply lunges at you. You're too shocked to do anything as he snatches the blade from your hand and sits on top of you.

You fight him, sending both of you rolling in the sand. Eventually, he gets impatient and wraps his hand around your throat. You take a hoarse breath as he blocks your airway. You grab his hand around your neck and try to pull it away. You dig your nails into his palm, but he remains unmoved, pinning you to the sand.

He leans closer to you, and you take the opportunity to wrap your hand around his neck. He laughs, showing you his black teeth as he practically lays on top of you. His erection presses hard against your thigh as he grinds against you, grunting as he too begins to feel the need for air... and something more. You see black spots in front of your eyes, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe.

You let go of his neck completely, your hand falling next to your head, and you desperately try to use the remaining air to try and use your Bene Gesserit voice on him. But before you try to say anything, he loosens his grip so you can breathe, but his fingers are still lightly holding your neck.

Too busy breathing, you don't notice how he tilts his face towards you. Only when you feel his tongue on your neck do you realise how close he is to you. You freeze when he runs his tongue from your neck, from jaw to cheek, to taste your tears. You hear him moan softly. To confirm that your brain, stunned by lack of oxygen, didn't make it all up on its own, he rubs against you, and his hardness in his pants is clearly felt by you.

You just fucking hope he doesn't fuck you in front of those soldiers.

You meet his black eyes with yours. You shiver as he leans in, his bare chest pressed completely against you as he whispers into your ear.

"Damn you, witch... if you taste as sweet as your tears..." He growls. You feel dizzy, and you're not sure if it's because of the heat of the moment, the fact that he cut you off from oxygen for a while, or because you're overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth that radiates from the two of you.

You thank whoever is above you as he finally pulls away from you and stands up. He gives you his hand and helps you stand on your two feet. The soldiers obediently look at the ground, not daring to face the na-baron's gaze. You swallow hard, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Feyd barks orders at them, herding them back to training. You breathe a sigh of relief when he stops paying attention to you. You use your shawl to wipe his saliva and your sweat from your neck. You take your blade and are about to leave the arena to do the rest of your duties. But a tight grip on your wrist stops you. You tense up and turn around to face him again.

"Y/N." He murmurs, watching you carefully. You're sure that bruises are starting to appear on your neck from his tight squeeze. "Come to my chambers tonight." A cold shiver runs through you, but all you can do is nod and watch his retreating figure as he leaves to continue the training.

You hoped he didn't mean what you thought he meant by that... invitation. Otherwise, this could be your last night on Giedi Prime or the last night of your life. You're not sure yet.

For the first time, you feel fear as you walk to his chambers. He had called for you at such times before, but it never occurred to you that he wanted to do with you something else than discuss with you matters that were related to the Giedi Prime Court, the baron's plans, or other political matters and plots.

You shudder, wondering what might be waiting behind that door. You saw the condition in which some of his concubines left him. You didn't want to become one of them; you didn't want to be reduced to being his lover. It was fine as it was. You felt very good as his shadow, ears, and eyes. You liked conspiring together with him, making plans, and that hrill each time you managed to take down the enemies that were standing in your way. He was supposed to be your savior, not your persecutor. Were you that naive from the beginning, or has everything started going to shit recently?

The guards let you through without saying a word. With your heart pounding, you enter his chambers.

He's sitting on the bed. His harpies finish taking off his clothes, and at first you want to back away, but as soon as his gaze meets yours, you freeze. Feyd snaps at one of them. She hands him a glass of his wine while the others look at you furiously.

"Leave." He tells them, never taking his eyes off you. The women look at each other, not wanting to leave him, especially leave him alone with you. You guess that if it weren't for Feyd's presence, they would have attacked you long ago, trying to eat you before their master got a chance to touch you. Disgust arouses in you as you think that you may be soon reduced to their role and turned into one of them. "I said something." He growls at them, shifting his gaze from you to give them an angry glare.

The harpies are going out obediently, but they are not wasting an opportunity to hiss at you as they pass you to get to the exit. You hear one of them scream in pain as Feyd suddenly throws a knife at them right before they close the door behind them.

You were more used to his brutal reflexes than to his tender gestures. You actually preferred him being aggressive more. At least you could have predicted his movement. That's why you didn't even blink when he threw a blade at his pets.

"You wanted to see me." You start when you are alone. If you could impress him with anything other than your fighting skills and the ability to obtain various information by staying in the shadows, it would be that you never showed fear or insecurity. At least not to those who don't know you. Almost no one could read you. Almost.

However, Feyd saw that you were behaving differently. But he was tired of controlling himself around you. He couldn't do it anymore after tasting your lips, tasting your skin mixed with tears, and feeling your curves press against him. He wanted more. Much more than he ever got from you. And he was going to take it, whether you wanted it or not. He won't go crazy with lust for you... or at least not with as much longing for you each night as he used to.

"I did..." He stands up, and you're grateful he's at least wearing underwear as he walks over to his bar and pours a second glass of wine. He hands it to you and taps it with his own. He takes a few sips and looks at you. After a while, he sits down on his bed again and swirls his glass, playing with the remains of the wine. "Baron wants me to find a wife." He announces calmly, staring at you intently as he finishes his wine with one big sip.

You almost choke on your drink. You place your glass on the table and meet the careful gaze of his cold, blue eyes. You feel yourself starting to get hot with nerves.

"I beg you pardon?" You ask, still reeling from the shock of this sudden information.

"He wants me to find a broodmare who will bear my heirs since I am getting close to the appropriate age." He repeats, standing up gracefully. He approaches you, his steps slow and measured, as if he were approaching his prey in an arena. And for a moment, that's exactly how you feel. But you show no fear or any other emotion as he stops a few inches in front of you. You straighten up, your muscles tensing as you think about any answer.

"I… I can make the necessary preparations and check which high families…"

"Strip." He orders you. His tone is hoarse, leaving no room for any objection. He talks just as if he were asking you to pass him the dagger rather than to stand naked in front of him. As if it was an order he carried out every day and something you should be used to following.

"What?" You ask stupidly, unable to process what he said to you in your head.

"Have you gone deaf? Undress. Take your clothes off." He repeats mockingly. He crosses his arms, takes a few steps back, and leans against the wooden post of his bed as he watches you carefully, waiting for you to either obey his order or openly disobey him, giving him the opportunity to punish you... as if he even needed a reason to do so.

"My na-baron, I..."

"Exactly, Y/N. I am your na-baron. So follow my order. Now. I'm not in the mood for our games. You think I haven't noticed you've been playing hide-and-seek lately? I have given much worse punishments for such disobedience and attempts at self-indulgence. Take your clothes off, or I'll rip them from you."

For a moment, there is a deathly silence in his chambers. Only your breathing can be heard as you try to find any way out of this situation. But you can't think of anything. Your mind is empty, your hands are shaking a little, and all you can do is look at him, silently begging him to change his mind. A frown of impatience appears on his forehead, and you know you have to do something before he gets irritated and cuts you with one of his blades.

You sigh softly as you reach for the laces of your shirt. You take your time, slowly untying your bindings. Feyd devours every bit of skin you expose to him, and you swear you hear him hold his breath as your shirt lands on the floor. You get out of your shoes and socks very slowly.

Luckily, he doesn't comment on it and lets you get out of his clothes at your own pace. He knows he will win anyway. Tonight, he will finally stop playing cat and mouse with you and put his hands on what is rightfully his. So he savours every moment, making a plan in his head for what he will do to you tonight for this small act of rebellion.

He licks his lips as you stand in front of him in nothing but black underwear. His eyes take in your every curve, skin lesions, and scars that mark your warrior body. Oh yes. He was going to enjoy this night and finally unwrap his early birthday present.

"Good girl. You know where the bathroom is, right?" Without waiting for your response, he goes there, expecting you to follow him.

You swallow hard. You're glad that at least you managed to stay in your underwear and that you're not completely naked in front of him. You get out of your pile of clothes and leisurely follow him to the bathroom.

As soon as you enter, the door closes itself behind you. You sigh, the sweet smell of bath salts reaching your nostrils. But you don't feel so relaxed when the coolness of the bathroom and the black marble you stand barefoot on make you shiver and your nipples harden.

The na-baron's dark chuckle catches your attention. He's in a large, black bathtub, his hands resting on its edges as he enjoys the warm water, watching you closely, a spark of amusement shining in his icy blue eyes. He looks like a vulture waiting for the best moment to kill his prey.

"It had been a long day. Join me." He says, lifting his hand for you to take and step into the tub.

Having no choice, you obediently reach for his hand and release it as quickly as you can, sitting on the other side of the bathtub with your legs tucked under you so as not to accidentally touch him. He laughs, shaking his head in amusement.

"Not so far, my little mouse. Closer. I won't bite… well, not yet."

"I'm not a mouse." You snap at him. If you're going to die, at least die with dignity. Blinded by your anger at him, you sit on his lap before you can think it through. It's only his hardness pressing against your ass that makes you realize what a mistake you've made. You don't show your discomfort, though; you even lean against his chest, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around you just as the skin of your back meets his chest. You feel like you're in a cage, even though he's trying to calm you down by lazily drawing patterns on the skin of your arms. Your underwear soaks up the water and sticks to you, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

"Hand me my dagger."

You much prefer receiving such orders from him. You get up from the bathtub to get away from him for a moment, but he stops you by grabbing your hips tightly. He shakes his head and nods towards the dagger, which is literally at his fingertips. You bite your lip, keeping yourself from talking back at him, and reach for the weapon, handing it to him. You do this carefully, not wanting to cut the skin of your fingertips with the very sharp blade.

He cuts through the fabric of your bra with surgical grace. You gasp in outrage but don't move, knowing full well that you are only millimetres away from him taking your blood. You don't have to turn around to know he's smiling cockily as he traces the tip of his dagger across your skin to your panties.

"You know I can take it off by myself?" You ask as he traces patterns with the tip of his dagger on your stomach, around your navel. You hold your breath as he rests his chin on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him, rubbing against your still-clothed ass. You learn the hard way that the rumours about his... greatness were true.

"You had your chance at the beginning, now it's my turn. You're lucky that I'm not taking it off of you with my teeth anyway." He growls in your ear. You shiver as he presses a wet kiss on your shoulder, peppering kisses on your skin, down to your neck, and down to your jawbone before he rests his chin on your shoulder again.

"Sorry for interrupting your fun, my na-baron." You growl as he hooks the tip of his dagger against the fabric of your panties.

"No worries; you will compensate me in another way." He says, cutting your panties. He throws them behind him and lazily presses the dagger against your jawbone, forcing you to turn your head to look at him.

You meet his blue eyes with yours. His irises are practically non-existent, giving way entirely to his dilated, black pupils. He stares at you hungrily, licking his lips. He looks lost and indecisive, as if he didn't know what to do first.

His other hand, the one not holding the dagger pressed against your neck and jaw, explores your body, caressing your skin as if it were some kind of precious silk. You sigh as he cups your breast, which, of course, fits perfectly in his hand. You want to punch him in the face, but the dagger at your throat reminds you that one wrong move could cost you dearly. So you take his hand in yours instead, stopping him from over-exploring.

"You know... I tried to stay away from you. From the first moment I saw you... fighting with those daggers of yours... you're not as graceful in dancing as you are with them in your hands, taking down all your enemies. But you are Bene Gesserit. I know you're dangerous. So damn dangerous... if I were anyone else, you'd use your voice on me and tell me to castrate myself. Or you could make me magically disappear by throwing myself off some tall tower just because I thwarted your plans or looked at you wrong. Surprised? You may live in the shadows, my little witch, but I won't miss anything you do. You know I have trouble controlling myself... so how can I do that when you're so damn irresistible? The fact that I've endured all these years and not gotten close to you the way I wanted—the way I dreamed so many times at night—is quite a success, don't you think?"

He massages your breast, playing with it. You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he pinches your nipple. He leans closer to you, pressing his nose against your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. He removes his hand from your breast and moves your connected body along your body. You gasp, tightening your grip on his as he brushes your clit gently with his fingertip.

"I… I should go." You mumble, squirming in his grip, which is, of course, pointless and only makes him groan in pleasure as your ass rubs against his hard, leaking member.

"Stay. You won't oppose your na-baron, will you?" The bastard knows well that you won't openly oppose him, and he uses it as best he can. He moves your joined hands to his length, forcing you to wrap your hand around him. He hisses, pressing the blade closer to your throat and tightening his grip on your hand as he guides yours along his length the way he wants. "Your skin is so soft… and that beautiful hair that you needlessly hide… you don't know how many times I imagined pulling you by it." He mumbles into your neck. The hand with the dagger now presses against your chest, only causing your heart to beat much faster. A wave of heat washes over you, your traitorous pussy clenching desperately as you hear his moans in your ear.

"Feyd..." You moan as his hand releases yours and works at your desperate pussy. He growls, feeling the warmth of your walls around his fingers and the wetness he caused. You remove your hand from his member and tighten your grip on his hand, trying to push him away from your private parts in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation.

"Don't fight. Just give yourself to me, Y/N. Let me show you how much you've lost while trying to hide yourself from me in your shadows…" He growls, pressing the tip of the dagger to your nipple. You freeze, moaning as he becomes stiffened by the sheer movement of his blade.

He bites into your neck, making you moan loudly and throwing your head back. He licks and sucks your neck, rubbing his painfully hard cock against your pussy. The water splashes around you, some of it spilling out of the tub due to his sudden movements. A few inches deeper, and he would have slammed into you, bisecting you with his huge cock, which stood ready for you from the moment he saw you in your underwear.

"Can you feel it? Can you feel what you're doing to me? How hard I am because of you? It's like this every time you hand me my blade, perfectly balanced and sharpened, every time you meet all my needs without even communicating with me, you just know what I want by looking at me, my little witch. So tell me, who is a better partner for me than my right hand? Who can I trust more than you? Who should I fuck, full of my heirs, if not you?"

You don't respond; you can't find any words as your brain desperately tries to shout out the pleasure he's giving you and force you to resist him. Unsuccessfully. The warmth of the water, his body, his scent, and his precise, deliberate movements cut off your thoughts. Feyd is practically salivating at the sight of you so lost in lust and desire as he witnesses you lose control for the first time.

He throws away the dagger, which falls with a crash onto the marble floor. Neither of you care as he grabs your hips and, in one smooth, quick movement, turns you around so you can face him.

You only have time to draw in a quick breath before he demands your mouth. You moan into his lips as he kisses you with the same passion and intensity as he did a few weeks ago at the party after you won the fight. You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tightly, placing his hands on your back as he presses you against him. You don't stand a chance against his strength. You can resist him, but you know it won't be long before you collapse from exhaustion. You bite his lip until you draw blood, which only causes him to groan and have him grind against you, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

You gasp as he leaves your lips for a while and pulls your hair, exposing your throat to him so he can mark it even more. He sucks on your skin, littering it with hickeys as you feel him slowly move, positioning himself beneath you so that his member presses against the entrance of your pussy.

And just as he's about to join your bodies, to make you two one, to feel your hot, wet, tight walls around him, there's a knock on the bathroom door.

This time, he's the one who freezes, tightening his hold on you. You feel like he's making sure he hasn't misheard or imagined it in this heated moment between you, but when the knocking sounds a second time, he realises it's real.

You pray with gratitude for the soul of the fool who dared to interrupt him, because you know that even if it were something important, he would not live to see the morning.

"What?!" He growls furiously, not letting you go, not letting you move an inch from him, still believing that he can quickly get rid of the intruder and go back to ravaging you, maybe even fucking you while he talks to whoever is standing in front of that damned door. Though Feyd preferred to be fully focused on you when he took you for the first time. However, he was convinced that if he didn't feel you around him soon, he would go crazy. He is so close... all he had to do was push a little more...

"My lord na-baron. The Baron wants to see you. It's very important."

You see pure rage bubbling in his eyes. He growls, shifting you from his lap as he stands up. You look down as you see all of him very clearly, especially what you were exposed to a few moments ago. He throws a towel at you, and you automatically catch it. He wraps one around his waist before he comes back to you again and grabs your throat. He gives you a crazy, passionate kiss, stroking your neck and appreciating the marks he made before pulling away from you.

"We'll come back to it, little witch." He leaves you with that promise, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You hear him shouting something at his harpies, and you shudder at the thought of having to walk past them to get out of here. You lean back against the tub, still sitting in the now-cold water, as you slowly process everything that happened.

You succeeded this time, but you know you won't be so lucky next time. You could either accept... your new responsibilities and his expectations of you, or you could try to break free from him, risking your life.

It was a decision to be made in the privacy of your own chambers. For now, you let yourself lie in the cool water, fully aware that if you weren't interrupted now, he would fuck you silly, likely planting his seed inside you.

You ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be a whore, a vessel for their crazy breeding plan. Apparently, you just changed the owner of your womb. You had to do something if you didn't want to end up as originally intended—as the mother of the future Kwisatz Haderach.

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blueskittlesart · 4 months

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can you expand on your purah thoughts

i've been waiting for someone to ask me about purah since botw came out. im obsessed with her. let's talk about it.

what we know about purah's life pre-calamity is limited, but we do know that she was a sheikah tech researcher in her 20s when the calamity hit. in her diary, she says this about the calamity:

Ganon had been dormant for 10,000 years. Perhaps his power had been building all that time. The slaughter that followed was arbitrary and merciless. The destruction complete. We lost everything... Hyrule Castle, Princess Zelda... Well, perhaps not everything was lost. A youth named Link was brought to me a hundred years ago, covered in wounds and on death's doorstep. Link... So young, yet so courageous. He was the youngest knight to have ever been appointed to the Imperial Guard at Hyrule Castle. He was also a gifted swordsman who was selected as captain of Princess Zelda's personal guard. I thought his skills would be enough to defeat Ganon in glorious fashion... Since ancient times, the royal family of Hyrule and us Sheikah researchers have had a strong bond. Their pain is our own. We took the swordsman and the Sheikah Slate Princess Zelda left behind to the Shrine of Resurrection. Although the Slumber of Restoration had not been fully tested, we decided to put the swordsman under to save his life. It was the best we could do...

What this tells us is that Purah was present and involved in the war effort pre-calamity, and she, like most other hyrulians, bought into the idea that Link was strong enough to defeat ganon. it was only after his defeat that she saw him for what he truly was: a child. "So young," she says. There's a clear undertone of regret in the way she talks about Link and the slumber of restoration. It wasn't fully tested, and she knew that it would likely cause him more pain in the long run, but it was the best she could do. It also implies that she believes Zelda is dead, or, at the very least, unreachable in her current state.

Purah was a researcher of ancient sheikah tech pre-calamity, and one who was very close to Zelda, meaning it's very likely she was heavily involved with the development of the guardians and divine beasts. When this tech was ultimately turned against hyrule and used to decimate their armies, Purah likely felt more grief than most. this was her tech, her brainchild, that was killing thousands of innocents. When link was brought to her, inches from death, covered in wounds inflicted by guardians, she would have known exactly what it was that did him in. For all intents and purposes, she killed him. it was her technology that led to this. Her decision to put him in the untested and potentially dangerous shrine of resurrection is an act of desperation -- not just an attempt to save hyrule from the calamity, but an attempt to prove to HERSELF that her tech is capable of more than senseless violence. that she's capable of saving this boy who she has caused such suffering for.

For 100 years, she has no idea if her gamble has worked. Presumably, it's only after nearly a century of radio silence from Link that she begins working on the anti-aging rune. in her diary, she says:

This technology will enable us to make retired warriors young again, thereby strengthening the Hyrulean army. When Calamity Ganon inevitably returns, we'll be ready. Our offense will be solid, and our defense impenetrable. The need for this tech pains me, but I truly hope to use it to attain everlasting peace for all.

it's interesting, here, the way she equates youth with strength. I think it's likely that, subconsciously or not, she is remembering Link and the other young champions. She believes that they COULD have won the war as they were, if only HER tech hadn't gone haywire. In her mind, the young soldiers and champions she saw weren't doomed until SHE doomed them. With this rune, she is once again clinging to the hope that her inventions will be able to do some good in the war, to somehow make up for the suffering she caused. I think this is also a big part of the reason why she tests it on herself rather than a third party -- she would rather put herself in imminent danger than let someone else suffer the consequences of her actions ever again.

The self-inflicted de-aging is also especially interesting. The way her BOTW diary is written suggests that the anti-aging rune affected not just her body, but her mind, too. there are noticeable changes in the way she writes as her body ages in reverse -- the diary becomes more juvenile and carefree the younger she gets. This is an especially important piece, the fact that she was mentally affected by the de-aging. Before the de-aging process, based on her diary, purah comes off as a very wise, very careful, very grief-stricken woman. Every decision she makes is rationalized and carefully tested in such a way that no one (except her) gets hurt. She looks back on impulsive decisions she made in her youth with melancholy regret -- "I thought his skills would be enough." "it was the best we could do." but she moves forward regardless, attempting at every turn to correct her mistakes in any way she can. "The need for this tech pains me, but I truly hope to use it to attain everlasting peace for all."

And her de-aging rune works. but when she tests it on herself, she accidentally takes herself back to the mindset of a six-year-old child. She remembers what she's doing and why she's doing it, but the wisdom and impulse control and regret that came to her with age and experience have all left her now. She has the boundless optimism of a little girl -- the same boundless optimism that likely led her to utilize the guardians and divine beasts pre-calamity, and with none of the fear of consequence she learned in those hundred years past. When link comes back, she's playful and carefree with him despite her knowledge of who he is and what his return means. She's dismissive of the choice she made to put him in the shrine of resurrection -- when link tells her he doesn't remember her, she says:

"Really?! Well! I'm so shocked I don't know if I'll ever be able to recover from this! Even though, 100 years ago, I took you to the Shrine of Resurrection after Calamity Ganon fatally wounded you... Even though I was the one who put you safely into the Slumber of Restoration... Hmm... As expected. After 100 years in the Slumber of Restoration, subject...has...lost...all...memories. Noted! Oh, sooooorry... I have a bad habit of taking notes rather abruptly like that. It's a charming quirk, isn't it?"

and in her diary:

I can't believe it... Our hero, Linky, has awoken from his 100-year slumber! As expected, he has lost his memory. The Slumber of Restoration... I really should have done a test run on that thing first. Well, live and learn. In any case, he got the ancient furnace working, so now I can start my research once again. Finally!! ☆ Only a truly gifted and heroic swordsman like him could have achieved all that. ♪ Speaking of...this seems like a good opportunity to get him to do some other chores for me too, heh. ☆

All the regret and careful wisdom she spoke with when she was still her accurate age has been replaced with childlike curiosity and mischief. She has, essentially, zapped the war right out of herself. In conversation, she consistently frames this as a mistake, an experiment gone wrong, but I almost wonder if that's truly the case. In totk, she re-ages herself only up into her 20s, the age she was just before the calamity hit, and her diaries reveal that this was a deliberate decision. She decided to put herself back into the headspace of a researcher unburdened by past failures, rather than putting herself back to a true "normal," i.e. her accurate age. I wonder if her regret over what happened in the calamity became too much to bear; if, after a hundred years of not knowing if her final desperate gamble had paid off or if she'd just killed a 17-year-old, she decided to take matters into her own hands and get rid of the guilt. Being the first test subject for the anti-aging rune, she had no idea what the effect on her body would be -- it was an act of self-sacrifice just as much as it was an experiment. Whether the consequences were intentional or not, whether she expected to die, or lose her memory, or nothing to happen at all, taking her life into her own hands with an untested piece of ancient technology was likely her attempt to atone for her sins -- to sacrifice herself to tech she didn't fully understand in the way she'd unwittingly sacrificed so many lives to the guardians during the calamity. the result of the experiment is a little girl with the mind of a seasoned veteran researcher but none of the inhibitions, and while that luckily ended up working out for link, it could just have easily have led him down the path of destruction again.

Ultimately, purah is a selfish character. she chose to put link in the shrine of resurrection in order to prove herself and her tech, ignoring the potential danger to his life. She chose to de-age herself and get rid of her guilt, ignoring the ramifications her experiment could have had on Link and his journey when he woke up. but for all her selfishness, she still cares very deeply for those around her; for her friends, for her family, for the soldiers and princess she lost in the war. She cares so much that she's incapable of dealing with her own guilt over their fates. She is a researcher, and all she knows how to do is make things, so she makes things that she desperately hopes might undo the harm she's caused.

#no readmore you all are going to look at this. PLEASE SOMEONE ELSE TALK ABOUT PURAH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEE BE INSANE WITH ME #SHES EVERYTHING. SHE IS EVERYTHING TO ME. THINK ABOUT HER. TALK ABOUT HER. I AM NO LONGER ASKING #zelda analysis #asks

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tinyidle · 6 months

Text

Let Me Protect You - CSN

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: at a time of chaos, and with you being almost deathly afraid of the dark and what it can bring, you find comfort in your husband. he holds you, kisses you, and unfortunately gets an erection in his loose sweats...

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: san x fem!reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: historical fiction; angst; fluff if you can squint; smut

𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰: victorian au; married couple

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.2 k

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: marking, praise, mutual masturbation, slight overstimulation and edging (not on purpose), sideways position, breeding kink, b!gd!ck san kind of overwhelms reader, unprotected sex (they're married and consenting), aftercare implications, all fiction ofc ofc

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: M for mature

𝘈/𝘕: previously i saw a man who said "women don't need to be protected ... we [men] need to stop attacking them." he has a point, but sometimes a woman crave to have a man 'protect' her from the things that she knows she can just put up with. she just wants to be dotted on sometimes. first submission to @wonderlandnet

the village was at war, it was commonplace by now. you knew very well that, when marrying a man who was born to be in battle, you were going to be a soldier's wife; yet you didn't care. it was either him or the arranged marriage your parents set you up with-- a bullet you're always thankful to have dodged.

despite the wars becoming very bloody, with your husband's team getting hit numerous times, san never seemed to get a scratch on him. he is his father's son, you thought as you'd watch the burly-slim-built man perform deadlifts behind your tent every afternoon. no wonder the king appointed him to be the head warrior of the team.

having grown up to hearing sounds of swords drawing, horses furiously neighing, men exclaiming before falling to the ground with a thud, and the hearty cheer of victory on your village's end, you were desensitized to anything and everything. well, almost everything.

every night you would be unfortunately forced to sleep by yourself in the head soldier's tent as san and his men patrolled the camp for any potential enemies. you had an oil lamp burning sweet incense along with melodies from your childhood to keep you company, so you didn't worry much. however, when rain or thunder would roar along the dead night sky, you'd scurry under your covers, very much disliking the loud sounds of nature.

after nearly thirty years of constant battle between the neighboring cities and squatter nations, the village king and the rival leaders signed a peace treaty, calling for no physical fights for up to one hundred years. this treaty was sealed in the thumbprint of their blood, making it a life oath for each affected city. once you heard the news, you were ecstatic. you missed your life back with family in the village, and, although you knew that you wouldn't be able to completely move back there as you and your husband have a house, you were just glad to be able to visit them more.

you and your husband quickly gathered your things and left the soon-to-be vacant camp to travel to the once-vacant house. when you got there and took a look around the area, you immediately went to working on reviving the currently dusty place. san, who was carrying most of the things, helped put them down wherever you said for them to go. once you cleaned and dusted and decorated the house, along with san restocking the food pantry and getting the cooking materials back in their place in their kitchen spots, you two were finally finished refurbishing the old place-- becoming almost brand new again.

with dinner being finished and the two of you talking about your future endeavors with civilization again, you decided to get ready for bed. being the ever-so-sweet gentleman he was taught to be, san held your hand and courted you to the freshly-scented room, the candlelight aiding to the dim ambiance of sleep that settled within yours and his minds.

when you took the first couple bath since your honeymoon, which consisted of san constantly praising you for being the best while washing your back and chest, you both got out and dried off before putting on your night clothes. sleeping on your side, your husband went right behind you, becoming the big spoon for you almost unintentionally. you just felt so warm, he honestly couldn't help himself. san then blew the candlelight out, making you a bit worried, but you thought nothing of it considering you no longer were going to need it.

and then it happened. thunder boomed out of nowhere, along with the sound of the trophy wolves san brought from battle barking furiously at the night. you tried not to jolt, you really did. but when the second booming of thunder came and went, along with the wolves changing their tune from barking to howling, you jerked out of san's slight grasp, finding retreat under the covers you previously washed.

san was awoken by your body leaving his, making him confused. he looked downwards to see if you were okay, and when he saw that you weren't, he asked, "what's wrong? are you scared?"

you did your best to calm yourself, shaking your head as your heart pounded heavily. "no, it's nothing. ill be fine if--" again another sound shook your core, except it was someone loudly shutting the lid of a huge trash bin outside as dogs were now barking and howling in tandem with their gray cousins.

your husband shook his head as he saw your trembling figure through the indent of the cotton, "dear, how long have you had the fear of loud noises?" san slowly traced his hands over the outline of your body before carefully pulling you from the covers and onto his arms, the sheet now covering you chest down instead of your entire self.

"i always hated loud noises at night, but especially from nature. i thought id be over it by now," you pushed your head onto san's neck, your hands finding purchase on his muscular chest as you struggled to breathe properly.

the man wrapped his right arm around your back, pulling you impossibly close to him. for a guy who claims that im always so warm, he feels like a campfire right now, you thought, but had nothing in you to speak out your thoughts as another loud bang from a nearby neighbor racked your senses.

"shh, shh. it's okay, sannie's here," he calmed you down as he felt tears start to stream from down your face to his clavicle. "oh, baby, i wish i knew sooner how the dark's terror made you feel. i would have gotten a different house away from here." your husband rubbed his hands over your back, slowly but surely calming you as your feeling of worry and danger turned to warmth and peace, all thoughts molding into the man who had you in his embrace.

you stopped crying after some time, simply resting your head against san's shoulders and breathing soundly. turning over to sleep in your previous position, you felt something stiff. experimenting with your bottom, you shifted backward a bit before bending forwards, which was met with a not-so-subtle groan. wanting to further test the waters, a third deep breath from the man was taken as your butt nudged against the much-uncomfortable hard-on from san. as you repositioned yourself, your husband reached out to grasp your waist, stopping you from your bottom leaving his crotch area.

"baby, what are you doing?" when you refused to answer, san simply pushed himself towards your backside, making you gasp as you were suddenly surged forward from the slight force of his movement, biting your lip as you remembered exactly who you were married to. "don't make me repeat myself."

not wanting to make him upset, you answered quite timidly, despite your previous confident actions, "i just wanted to play with you, that's all."

san hummed, chuckling a bit at your reply. "okay," he said, one of his hands pulling your night dress up to your waist. before you could think about it, san slithered his hand onto your clad cunt, cupping it with a gentle force that made you gasp. he always had a way of taking your breath away, flustering you befor you'd know it. "is it alright if i play with you?"

you mumbled the words 'yes' in-between heavy breaths, all thoughts now melting into the warmth that resided between your thighs as san began rubbing your wetness through your undergarments. "you're so wet for me, yet all i did was do what you did to me," san quipped. "i guess its only fair for how hard you made me." he continued moving his hand on your covered clit in circles, causing you to whimper lightly as the fabric became more sticky against your folds. "take your panties off," he commanded. you removed your underwear, tossing them to the floor as best as you could without leaving your spot on the bed. you felt your husband shuffle behind you until his hardened length met way to your thigh in all its bare glory.

turning around, you stopped san from doing anything more. when he pulled his head up to ask what the problem was, you asked with a small smile on your face, "can i help you out a little more while you help me?" without saying a word, san guided your hand to his length as his other hand went back to its previous place on your core. this only caused your smile to grow bigger. as soon as you started stroking him, which caused his member to become harder and bigger than it already was, san let out a guttural moan.

"gosh, you're so good," san grunted, pushing his hips slightly closer to you as his fingers now pressed inside you, curling his fingers to your spot. your mouth dropped open as you tried your best to concentrate on pleasuring him.

in no time at all, you could tell the man was getting even hornier as you began to climax from his motions. pausing for a moment to catch your breath, you grabbed san by the neck and passionately kissed him. he could only groan in your mouth as your walls furiously clenched on his fingers still inside of you as you were smearing his precum around his now burning head.

pulling away from you completely, your husband turned you around to how you were before, your bottom stuck out for his viewing pleasure. you whined from the loss as san your side for a while, tracing your body line down to the curve of your hip before slotting his hand between your thigh, slightly raising it. "ready?"

you smiled, nodding your head quickly as you stared at the soft linen of the matress.

smiling from behind you, yet you could feel it, san held himself to your slightly pulsating hole and slowly pushed his head in. you slightly jolted, but relaxed as you heard san's small praises of how fortunate he was to have you and how well you were taking so little of him. using the hand he was using earlier to push the start of him in, he then gripped the side of your ass before slowly thrusting the rest of himself in. you were whimpering from the tremendous stretch, his fingers seeming to not prepare for what you haven't had since he was called to serve.

wrapping his arms around you again, san wiped away the stray tears-- wait, you were crying?-- he knows you were shedding. "i know, i know dear." he soothed you, helping you to untense for both you and his sakes. you because you were obviously overwhelmed from the size of your husband, and san because your tightness almost made him orgasm like a prepubescent teen. getting himself together for you, san held onto you sides as he did his best to pepper kisses on your face. "let me love you, now." when you finally started to, you sighed in content as you pulled his hand up to kiss.

"thank you, sannie."

kissing your cheek in return, he held his place inside you and slowly began to pump into you; just the amount of speed needed to calm downyour shaking. your sighing from discomfort soon turned to moaning from pleasure. feeling the bliss of your husband's length in you, you jutted your hips back more, allowing the view of your ass be a signal that you were definitely feeling good right now. feeling encouraged, san sped up, driving himself deeper into you. his fingers dug into your inner thigh as his motions grew rougher and more passionate.

"fuck, sannie. im about to cum," you breathed out, feeling so close yet so far to your release.

putting his freer hand to your clit, he rubbed it in circular motions, high pitch whines coming out of you in return. "cum for me, my love. make a big, filthy mess on my cock. can't wait to always have you like this until you can barely think without having my cum in you."

your moans grew louder as your thoughts began to change to ones of having your stomach filled to the brim of san's love.

with one harsh thrust into you, your release hit your core, a splattering sensation running down your leg as he kept fucking into you. despite becoming quickly overstimulated, you didn't dare stop san from using you to his completion. "please, sannie," you cried, doing the best you can to get him closer through clenching. "please cum inside me. i need it to feel warm."

the image of his imprint leaking out of you flashed through his mind, quickly causing him to snap. with a tight squeeze at his enlarged length, he let out a grunt before he unloaded his seed into you, moaning in pleasure and relief as he did so. his thrusts grew shorter as he came less and less, holding onto you and kissing all over the parts of your face and neck he could reach. "i hope that wasn't too... intense for you," he apologized once his heart rate settled down.

you turned your head to san before slowly pulling yourself out of him with a hiss, looking at him as your hole pulsed in an attempt to return to its previous size. "'too intense?'" you quoted him. "why would it be?" your hand was gently touching your husband's face as he kissed it anytime it reached his lips. "it felt amazing." san, feeling assured by your words, leaned in to give you a tender kiss on the lips.

"im happy that you feel safe with me," san yawned after hesitantly pulling back, stretching before wrapping his arms around your waist as your aftershocks were coming down to an end. "i love you."

smiling at him and kissing his lips once more, you replied back to him. "i love you, and im always safe with you."

this is my first san fic. crazy right? and it only took one dance performance to awaken something in me. oh, the photo in the middle with the moon? i took that picture two weeks ago after getting off work.

#ateez smut #san smut #wonderlandnet

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scoonsalicious · 19 days

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 17, Unanswered - Pt. 5*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Dream!Sexual Content - Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. (dream!oral (f-receiving))

Word Count: 1.3k

Previously On...: A conversation with Steve informed you that Bucky was fine, and on his way back to the Tower. He just couldn't be bothered to contact you, it seems. Cool. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool.

A/N: Yay, look at that! Some more smut! Finally! Last part of Chapter 17. You know what that means, friends! BETRAYAL IS AROUND THE CORNER!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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You went about the rest of your evening and night as normally as you possibly could to distract yourself, checking up on the work emails you’d missed while you were ill and approving some requests for PTO. You’d listened to some back episodes of a True Crime podcast you’d been meaning to catch up on and aimlessly browsed Reddit, making some anonymous posts debunking some of the more outrageous relationship theories that were popping up concerning you and Steve. You were most definitely, for example, not having his super soldier baby.

Fortunately, you only threw up once during that time, and you were optimistic when, after you did, your stomach growled with hunger. You headed to the kitchen, considering potentially grabbing a plate of Thai leftovers from the other night, but remembering your reaction to Nat’s to-go plate, you opted instead to just make yourself a turkey and cheese sandwich. Best not to risk a repeat performance.

Once you made it back to your room, you decided you’d been awake long enough and called it a night. Checking your phone one last time, you were disappointed, yet not surprised, to see you still had no new messages from Bucky. As you put your head down on your pillow, you could only hope tomorrow would bring better tidings, and soon, you were asleep.

You were dreaming. And oh, it was a very good dream, indeed. You weren’t exactly sure what you were dreaming about, you just knew that delicious tension was building low in your stomach and, fleetingly, you hoped it was the kind of dream where you actually got to finish, and not the kind that left you frustratingly hanging over the precipice without actually falling. Those dreams were the fucking worst.

The dream slowly came into focus, Bucky’s head between your legs, his soft hair brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as his tongued fucked you, the hardened muscle working its way in and out of your cunt as if drawing life from it.

You moaned in your sleep as his tongue slipped from your weeping hole, only to latch onto your clit, dancing circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You felt your back arch off the bed as his thick fingers found your entrance and began working their way in and out of you, the pace growing faster by the minute. God. This dream was so fucking good, you never wanted to wake up. Your orgasm was so close, you could practically taste it.

“Bucky,” you moaned in your sleep. Even as a figment of your imagination, he was good enough to elicit sinful sounds from your lips. The pressure was building. You were nearly there.

“That’s it, doll,” Dream Bucky said, his nose rubbing against your clit. He added another finger, stretching you so damned well. “Almost there, baby. You can do it. Come for me.” His mouth returned to your clit, suckling from it and driving you over the edge.

Your breath was coming in ragged gasps, the noises you were making positively pornographic without your conscious mind awake enough to dampen them. But Dream Bucky kept working you through your release, rhythm never faltering.

“I think you can give me another one, pretty girl,” Dream Bucky said. He increased his pace, and soon you were falling again, your arousal coating his hands.

When your aftershocks had subsided, Dream Bucky’s hands pulled away, and you whimpered at the loss of contact. But then, you felt your bed dip, felt the solid, comforting presence of Bucky’s body as it crawled up alongside of you, felt his arms wrap around your waist.

You weren’t dreaming.

“Buck?” you rasped, voice still thick with sleep. “Is that really you, or am I still dreaming?” You reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the unmistakably real sensation of his overgrown stubble against your palm.

“I’m sorry sweets,” Bucky said, a devious smirk plastered across his face, “did I wake you?” He was already divested of most of his clothing, down to just a pair of tight, burgundy boxer briefs.

You yawned and raised your arms over your head, stretching out like a cat. “Was I supposed to sleep through that?” you asked him.

“Mm,” he said, kissing the side of your neck and making you shiver, “I’d really hoped you wouldn’t.” He shifted and you could feel the hard outline of his cock pressing against you. It woke you up immediately.

“Why the fuck haven’t you called me back?” you snapped suddenly, all traces of sleep having gone, leaving you with only your anxiety and unanswered questions. “I’ve been worried fucking sick all day long and I haven’t heard a peep from you! You think you can just give me 24 hours of radio silence, not knowing if you were dead or alive, and come waltzing back here with that magic tongue and I’d just–”

Bucky silenced you with a bruising kiss. “Magic tongue, huh?” he said when you broke for air. You nodded dumbly, currently unable to form a sentence with the way he’d just kissed the shit out of you.

“‘m so sorry, sweets,” Bucky said, his hands slowly making their way to the hem of your sleep shirt and pulling up, exposing your breasts to his lingering gaze. “I never meant to make you worry.” He slipped the shirt over your head, and despite your ire, you helped him do it. “Forgot to pack my international adapter for m’ phone.” He began placing gentle kisses to your breasts. “Battery died.” He took one nipple hungrily into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the peaked flesh. “Couldn’t charge it.” Then the other. You carded your hands through his hair. “Think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?”

His hand snaked down your belly to cup your heat. God, he had a way of making you feel so fucking good.

“I might be able to be persuaded,” you breathed as his fingers began toying through your slick folds. But logic soon smacked you like one of Natasha’s “love punches,” and you reached out a hand to stop his movements. “We should probably talk first.”

A flash of panic crossed Bucky’s face, and you wondered if he was worried about the articles. “Did you get my messages?” you asked him nervously.

Bucky nodded. “Plugged my phone in back in my room as soon as I got home,” he said. “Hadn’t seen the articles, but even if I had, I know you of all people would never do somethin’ like that. I’d have to be a fucking moron to think so. I know you’d never hurt me.” He had a far away look in his eyes for a moment, and you wondered if he was imagining you and Steve together.

You reached up to cup his face. “But did you see the other part?” you asked him.

“The part about you being ready to try us again?” he asked with a smile. When you nodded he leaned in and kissed you, a quick, sweet peck. “Darlin’, why the hell do you think I rushed over here to wake you up like that? Couldn’t stand to waste another second.”

“Well, then we better make up for lost time,” you teased, reaching down to slide your hand under the waistband of his boxer briefs.”

“I like the way you think,” Bucky grinned as he rolled over until he was lying on top of you. “I hope you’re not tired, sweetheart, because I got plans to keep you up all night long.”

“You talk a big talk, Barnes,” you smirked as you stroked him, firm and slow. “I hope you can back up your words.”

The look Bucky gave you was absolutely sinful as he reached down to free himself. Pressing the head of his cock against your swollen clit, he kissed you again. “Hold on to something, doll,” he said, nipping at the skin of your pulsepoint. “Cause you’re gonna have to beg me to stop.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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fourteentrout · 26 days

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Another Acotar Hot Take

I think tamlin has the potential to be as powerful as rhys, in terms of actual magic.

We’ve barely seen his shapeshifting put to use—we’ve seen Feyre use it in a myriad of ways, but with him we only ever see him as Fae or beast, which isn’t really all that special given that all the high lords have a beast form. So we haven’t seen his full potential with his Main Power, but he also has other powers.

Like, air manipulation. It sounds like Rhys and most other high lords have some level of telekineses, but I feel like full on air manipulation is like a whole different story. Could he fly without wings? Could he lift up huge objects into the air using the air itself? Is the air manipulation what causes stuff to shatter around him when he can’t control his magic? When his powers get out of control stuff literally EXPLODES around him. Imagine if he could focus that power? Just fuckin…exploding shit with his mind?? Not to mention the fact that he can make OTHER PEOPLE shapeshift. What are the limits of that? Can he force other people to shift or is it only a power he can bestow upon willing participants? Cause if not, that dude could be turning soldiers to fish on the battlefield or some shit. Like he may not be able to get INTO your mind but he COULD turn it into a piece of coal, or give you gills instead of lungs, or if we’re talking mind shit, he could shift one’s brain just enough that it could be rendered completely useless (ie changing someone’s frontal lobe beyond repair or something).

Plus, he’s literally like trained all his life as a warrior, which like yeah so has Rhys, but I’m just saying like put all this stuff together PLUS him being a skilled swordsman, likely prolific in hand to hand, and someone whose been training for battle for their entire life…like if he wasn’t so depressed I’m sure he could learn how to really hone all the stuff he can’t control, and I think if he did that he would be just as powerful as Rhys.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin #tamlin acotar #a court of thorns and roses hot take #acotar hot take #Rhys #rhysand #rhysand acotar #sarah j maas

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cerastes · 1 year

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I haven't played the game, can you tell us what Mudrock is like, like her personality and backstory?

The first impression you'll get from Mudrock based on her fanart, is that she's cute or attractive, and probably nothing else. I do enjoy Mudrock art a lot, but part of me feels like there's definitely a lot of potential for more serious art involving her (which exists, in minimal quantities). That's because she's a very solemn character. Mind you, she does have a silly side to her, but it lives alongside this solemn side I speak of. Let's talk about Mudrock.

Mudrock is a Sarkazian warrior that possesses great might and magic both, being a highly skilled spellblade, or, well, spellhammer, owing to her own expertise of Originium Arts (particularly those that manipulate ground and rock) as well as her time in the battlefield. She made her debut on the event Grani And The Knights' Treasure, the game's very first sidestory event, on a cutscene after the very last optional map, where she receives a letter from that story's main antagonist, Big Bob, her sworn brother, who informs her that he's doing alright after getting part of the treasure. It wouldn't be until Twilight of Wolumonde that she'd take to the stage again, where she is not playable and is, in fact, the main antagonist (though not the villain) of the story. Just like Big Bob, Mudrock is ex-Reunion (Reunion being the first part of the game's main antagonist), and she, alongside Big Bob and their respective squadrons, of which they were leaders, deserted Reunion after it rotted from the inside and strayed from its supposed objective to protect and fight for the Infected: They both realized that Reunion had become yet another pawn in the international war games between the bigger countries, and the Infected had become little more than cannon fodder and easily swayed soldiers to Reunion more than the people they sought to protect. Big Bob and Mudrock both are characterized by having a well-attuned moral compass, and this wasn't what they signed up for. They weren't simply lashing out at an uncaring world and letting their rage loose, they seriously were fighting for the freedom and well-being of the Infected. So they deserted... But they couldn't leave together.

Here's the first big important aspect of Mudrock: Big Bob invited her and her Mudrock Squad to come with him, since they were sworn siblings and their squads also got along really well. It seemed natural to walk the walk together, right? Big Bob's plans were to find the Knights' Treasure in the outskirts of Kazimierz, and use those riches to buy land in Columbia, where oppression against the Infected isn't as prevalent as in most other places, and money speaks louder (for context, the Infected are usually secluded into special Infected neighborhoods in other countries, or even executed outright, so while Columbia still oppresses them to some degree, it is leagues better than other places) and the Infected are allowed to own land and businesses, so long as they have the capital. Big Bob then intended to make a business with this money, and then be able to provide housing, employment and profits for his "family" (what he calls his squadmates and close friends), and for any other Infected that needed help.

However, Mudrock politely declined, because the Sarkaz in her squad simply couldn't live a life that wasn't one of blood and steel: Sarkaz from Kazdel are known to live short, fast mercenary lives, and those who see a longer life, can only live in the battlefield. It's all they know. Mudrock knew this, more so the older Sarkaz in her Mudrock Squad. To subject them to a civilian life would be to simply put them in a pressure cooker until they snapped, until PTSD or incompatibility with the lifestyle became too much, until their grave Oripathy claimed them anyway, and Kazdel Sarkaz tend to prefer a end in the field of battle. They needed a leader, and Mudrock was that leader. Not only that, Mudrock didn't want to leave any other Infected dry out there, a sentiment shared by her Sarkaz, who figured, hey, if we're going to keep fighting, we should do it to rescue as many Infected as we can.

So she traveled. Even though Reunion might as well be dead, rotten from the inside, Mudrock took matters into her hands. She knew her scope would never compare to that of an organized movement... But she had to do whatever she could, even if it was minimal in scale.

Twilight of Wolumonde is a whole can of worms and a half, so let me summarize it by saying this: Mudrock fought Rhodes Island entirely because she demanded there be justice for the Infected that were unjustly killed in Leithanien (or, well, that small corner of) in what basically was a mystery novel plot of whodunit. Once justice had been doled out and responsibility was taken, she took what oppressed Infected would be fine with leaving with her, and quietly left. Her stay was anything but quiet, however, as she summoned several Colossi of stone and soil in order to fight. At one point, she even summoned a particularly gigantic one, akin to a mountain, which she proceeded to transplant her consciousness into to 'pilot' it herself.

Afterwards, however, they were hounded by several Infected Hunters from Leithanien, who had the complete advantage in terms of terrain, who kept picking them off one by one, survivors and fighters both. As Mudrock and company finally arrived at the frontier with Kazdel, just one bridge away, she ordered all stragglers and survivors to cross the bridge, telling them that they could eke out a free, if hard-earned and arduous, living in the Kazdel outskirt towns. Mudrock and her Sarkaz warriors, however, would not accompany them, they would stand their ground by the bridge, to stop their pursuers. Mudrock was ready to die. She put it in no uncertain terms, if anyone wanted to leave with the survivors, they could, and those who stayed with her would die alongside her defending the survivors. Her men and women stayed with her. If it meant saving those, even though they weren't many, that was what counted, she'd seen her personal duty to the best of her abilities. She was fine dying in these terms.

Of course, she didn't die: Elite Rhodes Island Operator Logos had come across this little kerfuffle recently and tailed both groups, and then took action to support and rescue Mudrock and what remained of her squad. They fought. They won.

Mudrock and her crew went to Rhodes Island afterwards, where Human Resources struck a deal with her: If she worked as an Operator for them, they'd provide for her and her Squad, giving them jobs in the field as well as Oripathy treatment. Mudrock wasn't initially sure, but a chance encounter with Grani led to both of them conversing initially about Big Bob and then about other stories, and, plus encouragement and endorsement from Folinic and Suzuran (who knew Mudrock from the Wolumonde incident), Mudrock ended up accepting the deal.

Besides her very full, sincere intention to do anything she can for the Infected and her Sarkaz brethren, Mudrock is a bit... Weird. She'll usually go on bizarre tangents about the weirdest things, or simply say strange things with the utmost serious expression. Not random stuff, just actually letting her thoughts drift along with whatever thought comes to mind, in a contemplative manner. She also likes making little clay dolls of people and talking to them, but feels very embarrassed when seen doing this (though it is implied she actually can just talk to the earth). Mudrock is also popular among Rhodes Island logistics personnel (which includes plenty of Sarkaz from the Babel days, the precursor to Rhodes Island) because she'll offer to help them move heavy things whenever she sees them, given that she's both immensely strong physically as well as a powerful caster whose earth Arts make moving things around easy. She also very rarely isn't wearing full armor, meaning that while you likely usually see her like this in fanart:

She actually looks like this most of the time:

In fact, a lot of people in her very own squad didn't know what she looked like. There were rumors about an unknown Sarkaz girl that would wander around Mudrock's camp now and then. That was actually Mudrock in the rare occasions where she didn't wear her armor.

Two fun facts about Mudrock!

The first one is that her birthday is on the 21st of September, which is the International Day of Peace. It serves to reflect that ultimately, what she wants is peace for the Infected and Sarkaz, even if she has to fight for it.

The second one is that her hammer has an inscription if you look closely:

In the trailer for Roaring Flare, we get a good look at it:

"For evil men will be cut off". This is a short form of Psalm 37:9 from the Bible (King James edition): "For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the Lord, they shall inherit the earth."

All in all, Mudrock is bundle of love and kindess in an awkward package (awkward in terms of how she socializes, not in that she's shy or anything), but when an injustice is present, she will fight tooth and nail until justice is meted out (as she did in Wolumonde) and is willing to die for her ideals, if it'll save just a few people.

#arknights #mudrock

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amandav09 · 2 months

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Ghost x Princess Reader

MasterList of COD x Princess Reader

Summary : a stroll around town

Warming : sexual allusions

Word count : 3K

He was a proud soldier of the Royal Guard, known for his efficiency. Second in command of the strongest army

And yet here he is making white hair because of all the stress, all this caused by one person

He throws a cold look at the apple seller who is cooing with the princess. It had been half an hour since the young woman had tried to escape the palace, and as her personal guard, Ghost had tried to stop her. But what good is trying to hold a ball of energy that wants to go out? So here they were holding, hood on head, walking the streets of the kingdom. He thanked internally the fact that civilians did not often see the princess, which made it easier to blend in.

The king will be killed if his daughter doesn’t do it first.

He felt himself drawn to a flower stand «Princess, we should go home» Murmure Ghost, his hand clasping on the pommel of his sword.

"But look!"

He quickly noticed palace guards taking advantage of a break to walk around the city. His jaw tightens and he quickly grabs the princess’s arm. If the villagers did not recognize her, they would have a better chance of doing so.

He pulled it to an alleyway with little life and pushed the first door he found, making them both enter.

He closed the door, the noise of the animation, did not alert him, but the little noise of surprise of the young woman made him quickly turn.

A growl of annoyance left Ghost’s throat when he realized where they were: a whorehouse

«Look at the ground» Orders the knight by leading her through the people towards a potential exit door.

The palace soldiers were probably heading here for a while, so they had to find a way out.

The house consisted of several dark and crowded rooms. The princess looked with curiosity at the people, while her gaze turned a woman and a man, she gently pushed herself on a bench. Ghost quickly got on her and covered her body with his.

«The next time you want to leave the castle, I lock you in your room» He growls. Her gaze passes several times from her to a group of three men who speak nearby.

"Is this where all the soldiers come?" She asks.

«Most of the time» Ghost patiently waits for their attention to be diverted, but for the moment, he counted their capes that hid their identity.

"What about you?" Does she ask

Her eyes are on her again

“Me? I spend too much time chasing you for this kind of hobby. Besides, I can’t stand people touching me.”

The princess frowns "Yet I touch you" Her hands were resting on her shoulders following the surprise of the fall "And not only today."

Ghost sighs, "Don’t make me tell you."

She smiles, “I wouldn’t.”

The knight closes his eyes and lowers his head, putting his forehead against his.

“Why do you always have to get in trouble?”

«To see you chasing me» She closes her eyes

She feels the chest of her knight vibrate because of her laughter

«Let’s go back to the castle»

"Once there... will you show me why the woman was behind the man there with the whip?" She makes a playful smile.

Ghost growls, "I’ll lock you in your room."

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley

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batwritings · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 1 - Breeding

My first published piece for Call of Duty! Like a lot of others I got very much sucked in (c'mon...hot masked man? ya'll really think I'm that strong? I'm far too gay for that. /hj) to this series and hope you all enjoy the content I write for it! Enjoy!~

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Coming on this mission was nothing short of a mistake. Yet Price wasn’t one to let work build up and overwhelm him. Plus, this was a favor to Nik; he couldn’t just turn the Russian man down with all the times Nik had saved his ass. The unfortunate part of all this was you.

Your relationship with the Captain wasn’t exactly secret. A number of soldiers had caught you two by now. You two really did try to keep things under wraps! But after Gaz and Soap had caught you in his lap, lips passionately discovering the other’s, well…let’s just say the two sergeants weren’t the best at letting it remain a secret. Thankfully for the both of you, Laswell had workarounds, and the entire squad was sworn to secrecy until further notice. It was only recently, during a short shore leave that the conversation came up: kids. “I’m too old for that pup,” he’d chided, casually taking a drag off his cigar. You huffed a laugh quietly.

“Oh c’mon John,” you hummed against his bare chest. Your fingers played idly with the hair that covered his skin. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to see a little mix of both of us running around base? How happy they’d be with all their uncles and auntie Laswell?” You could see the cogs turning in his post-coitus brain. So many different scenarios played over and over in his brain. On the one hand, the two of you had probably the most dangerous jobs in the world. There was absolutely no way he would let you back out in to the field if he found out you were pregnant.

But the more he thought about it; you all round with his child, the happy life that would await you two. The idea of him absolutely ravishing you with the sole purpose of knocking you up became more and more enticing. Which was exactly why this mission was nothing short of torture for him.

You were being used as bait, put lightly. And a variety of different people had their hands all over you, guiding you where you needed to be. Now normally, Price was by no means a jealous man. He was rather proud to call you his partner, and was more than happy to show you off and brag about you. But something about the way you were being drug around set some sort of fire in the good captain.

“Ghost, do you have a copy?” He asks over the comms.

“Send traffic,” comes the response of Ghost from the other end of the building, no doubt honing on potential targets through the sight of his sniper rifle.

“Go to the next channel, there’s been a change of plans,” Price tells him as calmly as possible. There are a view other questions from Soap, Gaz, and Laswell, but he leaves them all unanswered as he switches the channel on his radio. “I’m going in after them.” “Price…” Ghost starts to protest. He’d warned the Captain long ago that if Price were to involve himself with a partner, emotions would eventually get in the way. The masked man knew his Captain’s emotions and control over them far better than he’d ever let on. “We can’t afford to complicate things.”

“I won’t,” Price comments sharply, slipping down the embankment to get closer to the building. His aim was to slip in a window to a room where he knew there’d be no guards. He remembers the layout like the back of his hand; his photographic memory worked pretty well for someone reaching forty.

Again, the Lieutenant sighs heavily over the comms. “Fuckin’ hell…” he grumbles, adjusting his position slightly. “Just don’t get yourselves caught in there old man. Last thing we need is losing two good soldiers in one night.”

The captain chuckles grimly before hoisting himself up onto a few barrels and switching his comm back to the original channel. Ghost can be heard explaining the plan to the team, but Price tunes them out. “C/S, move to that empty room we pointed out on the first floor as you can,” Ghost instructs.

“Copy,” comes your hushed response. Price nods, hauling himself up and into the open window. How their target didn’t think to guard this room was beyond him. Then again, with how much he was struggling to get in, it’s not like it was necessary. “Fuck my old boots,” the man grumbles as he hits the floor, joints protesting at the sudden drop.

“Gettin’ old on us there Cap?” comes your teasing tone. You just barely manage to silently shut the door behind you when your world is sent into a whirlwind, eyes now meeting the brick wall in the dark room. A gloved hand is covering your mouth as the other pins your hands above your head.

“I’m sorry darlin’,” you hear Price say, right against your ear. “But there’s a thought that’s been plaguing me, and I can’t hold it in anymore, Nikolai be damned.” You try hard to wiggle and protest, but your captain has his boot between your feet, shuffling your legs apart.

You gasp a little as you feel the excitement rush straight between your thighs. “That’s my pup,” Price purrs, warm breath and beard tickling the shell of your ear. “Keep those wandering hands still for me.” Slowly, as if to test your obedience, the good captain lets go of your hands. You do as he orders as you feel him undo the suit pants you’d been put in for the night.

A gloved hand dips beneath the waistband of your underwear, running over your wet slit. You try to contain your whimper, but your captain was no fool. He knew your body and all it’s sweet spots better than he knew his own. The rough fabric brushes over your nub and you gasp against his other hand.

“That eager already are we?” The man teases, kissing along your neck. Your eyes close and your brow knits in frustration. Not that you were mad by what was unfolding, oh no. It was because that man’s amazing cock wasn’t in you right now.

Thankfully, you and Price often shared the same brain cell, and you could hear the telltale sound of him undoing his belt, shimmying his pants and briefs down enough to get his member free. Yours were next, the fabric easily slipping down your legs to pool around your ankles.

Price was as slow as he felt he could be, rubbing the head of his cock over your quickly moistening slit and hole. “Gonna take me so well darling,” he coos, more kisses and nips against the sensitive area of your neck.

When his member first breaches your entrance, your knees almost buckle. It had been so long since you’d had your captain inside you, you’d nearly forgotten what it felt like. If it weren’t for the glove in front of you, the diplomatic party would probably have heard your shuddered sigh of pleasure as Price fully sheaths himself inside you.

It doesn’t take long, between the time crunch and your warm, wet walls hugging his cock so perfectly, for the captain to start truly fucking you. He went from gently letting you adjust to trying to muffle the sound of your skin meeting so quick it made your world spin. “Fuckin’ hell,” he groans, sliding his hand down your side to grip your hip so hard you knew it would bruise and you’d have to hide your slight limp for the rest of the night.

“Can’t wait to see you,” he murmurs against your skin, stopping in his sentence to moan softly. “--so full with our child, love. Gonna be so perfect for me.” His words have you absolutely gushing, your wetness making the sex even louder.

You’re not sure how long the two of you had been at this, but the voices growing closer to the room told both you and Price that there wasn’t much time left. “Price, wrap up your business,” Ghost hisses over the comms. The thrill and knowledge of what brought this on has you teetering on the precipice of orgasm.

“Go on pup,” Price growls softly. “Let’s make this the moment. That moment I breed you like you want.” As every good soldier would, you follow your captain’s order, biting down slightly on the fabric of the glove to keep your whimpers from reaching the hall. The good captain isn’t far behind you, quickly spilling his seed inside you.

The two of you are trying to come down from your respective highs when you hear. “...Is someone in there?” shouted from beyond the door. In swift movements, Price pulls out of you and you’re pulling your pants and underwear up from the floor. Just as you’re finished fixing your hair and your captain slips around the corner does the door open, light flooding the dark room.

“...Y/N?” asks the intruder. You give a sheepish smile, only accented by the flush still on your face. Not like they had to know it was from the sneaky sex you’d just had with your superior who would probably blow this person’s brains out in the next few minutes.

“Sorry, I…got a bit shy. I needed a moment to adjust myself,” you explain. The person shoots you a knowing look before ushering you out of the room. Price waits with baited breath for them to leave and walk away before sighing. He needed to get out of here before the mission changed any further.

“All finished?” Ghost asks, voice surprisingly calm for how much he detested the change in plan.

“On my way out,” Price advises, pulling a few boxes closer to help ease his escape.

“Good,” the lieutenant answers. “Oh and Price? Permission to speak freely?”

“Go ahead Ghost, send traffic,” the captain answers, just barely getting into the window before he hears the response.

“Turn your comms off next time you decide to fuck your partner on the job.”

#bat writes #cod x reader #cod smut #captain john price smut #captain price smut #captain price x reader #price x reader #price smut

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feverdreamsandlucidnightmares · 1 month

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I keep thinking about moral vs ethical authorities and actions in the Trigun animes. I hope this ramble about it makes sense.

I think most of us will agree that morality is perfectly capable of secular development and is unbeholden to religion in general, though religions can certainly serve as a moral authority and inform specifics. But they are not, or at least not the only, source of morals.

And while ethics and morals are often used as synonyms, they do actually have different meanings. The short version is that ethics are the rules and standards of a social system/culture/etc and morals determine what a person individually thinks is wrong or right. Often, people’s morals and ethics follow the same principles and authorities. They don’t have to, though.

Functionally, let’s say that ethical choices are social goods, and thus social authorities are the ethical authorities within a given society or culture. Much like laws and power structures are meant to protect and benefit the people they govern, a social or common good is something that benefits the largest number of people within a society. In Trigun, these authorities include the Bernardelli Insurance Society (in a limited capacity), the JuLai/July military police, the Eye of Michael, and (notably, but discretely) Millions Knives.

There’s plenty of speculation on and textual implication within Trigun Stampede that Knives and Conrad having their hands in a lot of JuLai’s governance and polices. This is where the moral value of the ethical systems in place becomes questionable.

There are a lot of implications to unpack within an ethical system potentially developed and controlled by a genocidal semi-immortal being using it as a shadow government. The abridged, most important point is that there is no reason for Knives to be a part of a system that allows humans to flourish, build community, and grow. There is every reason for him to convince/allow everyone to think that he is.

A social good is one with the support of those in authority. It has no innate moral value. Laws and orders from unjust governments do not absolve anyone of the weight of their actions. But they determine who is punished.

So, the Eye. The church of No Man’s Land. A social authority for people in Hopeland, at least to some extent. Enough so that the orphanage cannot stop the Eye from taking its children. And Windmill Village to a much larger extent. So much so that its people volunteer their children as sacrifices. And it’s implied to have a much wider reach than just that. The Eye of Michael is a cult that preys upon the planet’s most desperate. Rollo - sick and poor and unlucky. Blessed. Made new, made whole (everything down to his emotions tampered with). Monev the Gale. Wolfwood and Livio - orphans and poor. Wolfwood, the handpicked Child of Blessing. The perfect candidate to be a child soldier. Nicholas the Punisher. Livio, the volunteer. The good and faithful brother follower. Livio the Double Fang. The other Gung-Ho-Guns. Dominique the Cyclops, Midvalley the Hornfreak, Rai-Dei the Blade, E. G. Mine, Leonof the Puppet-Master, Hoppered the Gauntlet, Caine the Longshot — volunteers? Desperate people doing desperate things? Or violent people playing at divine intervention? Social authorities in their own right, in the sense that they can do what they want without repercussions from the masses. They answer to Legato, to Knives, not to the traditional governments of No Man’s Land.

And Legato has been desperate. He would kill almost anyone before suffering that again. He would die to escape it, too. Life holds so little meaning to him. The end is near and he is both hierophant and harbinger. He lays no claim to justice, only ruin, but it’s all in Knives’ name.

Knives, who plays god. Who puts a bounty on his brother’s head to drive him back to him. All that power, he gets to determine what is wrong or right and people can either agree or die. It’s easy to see where his morals fail, but there isn’t a higher power to enact justice. So, he has the authority, what goods does he perform with it?

It’s also important to note that Zazie does not perform moral or social goods. Zazie serves themself, for their own betterment. And this is not a moral failing because applying human morals to a multi-consciousness conglomerated hivemind controlled collective of bugs can’t make sense. Zazie is all of the wams on No Man’s Land. All of their collective experiences in the species’ existence. All of their lives, all of their loss. It’s all Zazie. And Zazie believes that the needs of the many (themself in all their facets) outweigh the needs of the interlocutor few (humanity, Plants). Tentatively willing to coexist and adapt, unwilling to accept their own destruction. Allies or enemies. They work with Knives until it no longer benefits them. Very utilitarian.

Nonetheless, the Eye of Michael and its chosen crusaders, its sychophants, its priests are a definitive social and tentative moral authority within No Man’s Land. So, who can tell Conrad that he is performing anything other than a social good by doing his experiments? He claims he’s trying to save humanity and the only authority over him wants humanity dead. A flawed system. The Gung-Ho-Guns perform social goods by killing whoever they are sent to exterminate. This, of course, includes Vash without regard to whoever might be caught in the crossfire. Vash, who unwittingly takes the blame for his brother over and over. Vash, who has a bounty placed on his head by his brother and his misguided puppet government. Vash, who is being mocked and chided, his bounty the same as the cost of a new Plant. Vash, the Humanoid Typhoon, legally an act of God, the first “human” natural disaster. Destruction in his wake.

Wolfwood performs a social good by betraying Vash. He has the authority to justify his actions through his ordainment.

And Wolfwood performs a moral good by saving Meryl. It’s the first unilaterally moral good he performs in Trigun Stampede. That’s important. The thing about Wolfwood is that he knows the difference between moral and social goods. He knows whatever values he’d like to act on don’t align with his orders, but there’s always other lives at stake. Wolfwood doesn’t kill because he’s particularly bloodthirsty. He’s pragmatic. Other people have to die to keep the orphanage safe. An unfortunate, but necessary cost that he’s willing to pay. Until he isn’t anymore. Monsters don’t need morals, but if Vash can afford them maybe he can, too.

And normal, everyday people perform social goods, too, by trying to stop bank robbers and bandits and the Nebraska Family. And Vash. Those are ethical decisions, stopping criminals threatening your home is ethical. You just have to remember who determines who the criminals are and why.

Your moral and ethical authorities, ideally, should be in alignment. This is not a utopia, so they aren’t. And these random people living on the planet he forced them onto are continuously subjected to the so-called social good of Knives enacting his divine plan in order to force Vash’s hand. They are a necessary sacrifice for his greater good. The greater good that is Knives’ Eden, that is a world remade in his image. Vash remade in his image.

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cowyolks · 10 days

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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was the character that never knew life outside of war. He’d die a soldier, fighting through blunt nails and chipped teeth.

He spent his childhood filled with blood shed, his own, instead of others. Cigarette burns coating his arms, covered by hasty tattoos. Worse was his soul, torn to ribbons at the mention of his greatest failures. His family dead on Christmas, the hostages he couldn’t save, his comrades.

He was a good man, but in this story the only time he’d find peace is in death.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish is the unrequited hero of the story. His family filled of veterans that fought bravely. He always had this naive hope that he’d be different, he’d be the one to survive. To go back to his sisters and parents, chest candy glittering upon his puffed chest.

He was the youngest recruit of the SAS, something his Father was so immensely proud of. His boy, serving the country, fourth in line of Mactavish men.

In this story they’d weep over his ashes, given a flimsy flag in return instead of his warm hugs and chortling jokes.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick was the apprentice in the story. Close to the hip of his captain, always eager to learn and improve. His amber eyes were always flickering, absorbing information like a sponge. He was the most knowledgeable, the one that had came up with the plan in the first place, nearly breaking his resolve to smile as his Captain agreed to the assignment.

It’s gone horrendously wrong, his hand was on the comm, hoping to alert the others to the news only to be led in static.

They found him days later, when the rubble and smoke finally cleared. He was mourned in this story, by his Captain mostly, thinking of what potential he had.

Captain ‘John’ Price was the villain in the story. Not because he murdered the good, or stole, or had any relatively bad intentions, no. He was the villain because he was left standing.

He didn’t mourn the fallen, didn’t shed a tear. He was the broken shell of a soldier, fueled by the only thing that licked at his skin like a wildfire— revenge.

John becomes the thing he hates most in this story. A cold killer, with no other goal then to kill as many as he can before they put a bullet in his brain.

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #call of duty #soap mactavish #captain price #john price #kyle gaz garrick

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deramin2 · 4 months

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God I love Orym's choice to make a deal with Nana Mori so much.

He trusts Morrigan because he trusts Fearne. They're like bonded shelter cats. This place genuinely doesn't feel so bad. Like Maybe someplace he could settle. And then he wouldn't be able to keep running. And in return none of his new family has to die, which is the thing that traumatized him and destroyed his happy life. If they can just stay alive maybe they'll be powerful enough to win. With Ashton and Fearne's new powers, and Imogen leaning into her powers. And Laudna is freaked out about Delilah but also using that power because when she felt angry and terrified and alone it was right there. Chetney is all about harnessing his curse and not just living with it but thriving. All his friends have made these big moves and he was still just some guy. So he got in on the game.

Going home is too painful to him to stay. He wants to visit, but he doesn't feel like he belongs anymore. He hasn't for years, that's why he's been traveling. But he could belong here with Fearne's people because he loves and trusts Fearne.

Nana Mori is weird and off-putting but she doesn't scare Orym. He doesn't think she's deceitful, he thinks she binds people to their word. He's offering something mutually beneficial. Her interests are inscrutable, but Fearne's happiness is one of those interests and he makes Fearne happy. So it's in Mori's best interest to take care of him. And he in turn will take care of her.

Derrig was his lover's father who trained him to be a guardian and made him more powerful so he could do that well. That's not that different than Mori. He's really just repeating familiar patterns with different contexts. He failed Zephrah, but maybe he can redeem himself and also try a new post. He's a soldier.

He doesn't want to die but he thinks it might be inevitable (and worth it) for this cause. He can't let what happened to his husband and his father happen again. He couldn't think through that fear. And he has actually been open about it, but also there actually hasn't been an alternative. This is just one more crux move in a long series of moves to stop all this. All of it suicidally dangerous. None of them are the best people to do this. Chetney voiced what they've all been thinking: their one advantage is they're expendable. Everybody at that war meeting had to be prepared to be expendable, but they're trying to minimize casualties. Bell's Hells are Team Frodo, but there may not be any eagles coming. And Orym knows that. He thinks this is an incredibly important mission but also a one-way trip. But maybe making this deal is what sends the eagles. And he knows he can't go back to The Shire, so maybe Nana Mori's domain could be Valinor. It has been a respite for him.

Maybe all that is as much hubris and misplaced trust as Zerxus trying to reform Asmodeus. What I love about this choice is we don't know. The way things were before he made a deal was just win-lose for Orym. Now it has a whole other interesting layer of things that could happen.

Campaign 1 & Campaign 2 were about adventuring parties trying to save the world. Exandria Unlimited: Calamity was about an adventuring party who fails to save the world. Campaign 3 is not about success or failure as an objective. It's about making interesting choices and then following the consequences of those choices. This is theater where anything can happen. This is Shakespeare where everything going wrong is FUN. This isn't a definite tragedy, but they took off all the guard rails that said it couldn't be.

They don't have to win to be successful in the work of art they want to make. Marisha explicitly said to throw out expectations. I truly think the cast did. The world is something being done to them, not something they are causing to happen. And they're reacting to it in whatever sounds the most interesting with potential consequences they most want to see. It's a game of curiosity.

So a couple things can happen here: Either they don't all make it back, Orym is heartbroken and trying to fix it or dead. Or Orym gets what he wants and we see more of Nana Mori's nature and if she's more like Uk'otoa or Artagan. Either way Orym gets a new and interesting direction to go in.Far more interesting than succeeding and everything staying the same. And that's why I like the choice.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #critical role meta #critical role campaign 3 #Bell's Hells #orym of the air ashari

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carulenes · 1 year

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an analysis of wolfwood’s characterization in trigun stampede as well as his connection to vash (+ why i believe he’s likely much older than we think)

okay i’ve been thinking abt this since eps 10 or 11 were released (this show became my special interest the second it dropped if i'm being completely honest) but its been scratching at my brain ever since i read the sakuracon radio interview and since i haven’t seen anyone talking abt this yet i figured i may as well because it’s clear they really did pull very extensively from the manga and i really am loving how they adapted his character. also i occasionally keep seeing the “tristamp wolfwood is a kid/is 14-15” takes which i need to at least try to help put to rest bc they make no sense given his other iterations and would actively make the story worse.

a quick tldr of my main points before i get on my very long winded soapbox:

wolfwood in trigun stampede has been used as an undying, unkillable soldier by the eye of michael for decades.

rollo as a character, as opposed to monev the gale, was designed specifically as a metaphor for wolfwood’s backstory.

wolfwood and vash are written to be literal complements to one another.

I literally don’t think I have the space to talk abt all my thoughts, and ofc these are all my personal thoughts so any and all of what i’m saying could be wrong, but direct analysis of eps 4-7 (as I think they’re the most important) and discussion of his trajectory in general under the cut (obvious spoilers for the show but also the manga as well as tw: discussions of suicide/suicidal ideation as well as the general tw list for the show's graphic content):

Starting first with a side point that Wolfwood was never a child at any point he was with Vash during thecourse of the story, including the manga. He has always been a man in his 20s, with trimax ww having the appearance of being in his 30s or 40s. It is absolutely crucial to his and Vash’s characterizations, as well as their entire dynamic together, that Wolfwood is an adult. Could make an entire separate post about this, but I feel like starting here is important.

Onto the sakuracon japan radio interview. The team gave a LOT of interesting insight into the development of the show, but one specific point stood out to me:

This is important, because I definitely missed it during the show’s initial run, but I think it’s REALLY obvious once you know what you’re looking for, and is a big factor in why I think he’s likely older than we realized.

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EP 4: These are the very first lines that are said about him in the show, and the very first time we see him, he is absolutely exhausted:

We know that at this point, Wolfwood is likely on his way to Jeneora Rock to meet up with Vash to fulfill his contract...until Vash and co. quite literally slam into him (and his life) unexpectedly, nearly killing him with their van. He probably should’ve died except… he’s on his feet almost instantly, able to walk perfectly fine and being a jackass as though he didn’t get launched halfway across the desert by a moving vehicle. Which is… odd, naturally.

When they try to find help and instead find the dead couple, he specifically mentions that he isn't a priest like he's been in other iterations. He's now an undertaker, someone meant to guide others through their deaths:

His personality is hard to tap down. He's goofy and childish and downright unlikeable, and there's a hint of something lurking deeper, something menacing and potentially dangerous. So much so that Roberto is on edge the entire time their group is together after being swallowed by the Grand Worm, and flat out tells Vash that Wolfwood is untrustworthy and likely an assassin, "a man who can kill with a smile on his face". And Vash’s response is… really fucking weird, given how long the two have known each other:

not to mention he's wearing sunglasses Wolfwood is rightfully very ??? in response because, what the fuck is he talking about, and why is he so genuine about it, they just met???

Fast forward to a bit later, when Wolfwood is like "hey man, you really shouldn't be so trusting. I could've shot you in the back several times now." To which Vash is like "but you didn't, though." And Wolfwood is even more confused because is this guy stupid???

And then it's time for the final act: Wolfwood reveals his Punisher, destroying the Grand Worm while giving the illusion of taking out Zazie as well. Meryl was informed by someone that Wolfwood had been the one to save them all, but when she tries to thank him, he immediately shifts the subject, being annoying and arguably completely unlikeable. Roberto points out that Wolfwood had lied about who he was, trying to get Vash to realize that he still can't be trusted, and again Vash shoots it down: "We're alive because of him."

Wolfwood showed his role as the Punisher without hesitation, and not only was Vash not really phased by it, but he actually seemed to be inspired by him, stopping his self-destructive tendencies and even repeating his own words back to him. And that's the moment we finally learn his name in the show:

But then, almost immediately, we have a complete reversal of his scene with Vash in the Worm. It’s also of note that Zazie always specifically says human lives:

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EP 5: One of the most important episodes in this discussion, and it starts with the name alone, "Child of Blessing". Here’s a very general summary:

A young boy in a much less than ideal living situation is chosen to be 'a blessing upon the world through his sacrifice', which turns out to secretly be mutilative experimentation on children in search of a subject compatible with a mysterious medicine that can heal any injury. The meds warp him, morph him into something that doesn't even appear to be human. He tries to return home, but his mother, the only family he knows and loves, is terrified of him. She calls him a monster, and the boy finds himself struggling to articulate who he is. Then, he wanders alone alone without purpose in that unchanging altered body, a body that can withstand lethal amounts of damage directly because of the meds, for at least 20 years. All he has is a single name: Vash the Stampede, the person who promised to save him, and the one person who managed to bring back his consciousness in the end, if only for a moment.

The moment Nicholas sees Rollo regenerate is the second the switch flips. He instantly demands to know what the fuck is up with him, and when Vash responds telling him that he was too late to give him the medicine he needed, Wolfwood shuts down, because he recognizes himself. From this moment until the rest of the episode, we are no longer seeing Nicholas D. Wolfwood; we're seeing Nicholas the Punisher.

Vash continues to push Rollo to remember who he is, while Nicholas continuously says that there's no way to save him, that he's already a monster now. In the final moments, Nicholas inevitably feels tasked with Rollo's death like the undertaker he is, and when Vash angrily demands to know why he took the shot, his response is:

When discussing Rollo's killer, Elendira refers to Nicholas by name, but Conrad specifically states that no, he is the Punisher.

In vol 10 of the manga, Vash thinks to himself: “I met a strange man. Just as I thought we had come to an understanding, I found that our core beliefs were opposed to each other. I was used to such situations, but I wonder how he felt.”

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EP 6: This episode builds directly upon the foundations set by the episode prior. Child of Blessing ended with Rollo being referred to repeatedly as a monster, and this episode begins with Nicholas in the middle of completing a kill. Right before he does, his victim gets one final glance at his assailant, an inhuman looking executioner, and calls him a monster… directly because he will not die. He’s also been shown knocking back meds like tequila shots in tristamp, which we all know was NOT possible in the manga. During the flashback scene, Nicholas is literally called the Child of Blessing.

We see a very similar sequence with Nicholas that we saw with Rollo; the horrific torture, the bodily mutilation (during which Conrad specifically mentions that the drug will heal all damage done the body, as well as rebuild and strengthen the cells), and the attempt to return home:

Something different happens with Nicholas, though. Nicholas can't go home; he’s literally yanked away from his chance at freedom by Legato. Nicholas can’t go home, likely ever again in his mind, because Hopeland Orphanage and the Eye of Michael represent two fundamentally different ideals.

Hopeland (and thus Livio) is exactly like its name for Nicholas: it is is land of hope, the only place in the world where Wolfwood was allowed to exist freely. When Nicholas was taken by EoM, Wolfwood began to die.

The entirety of the EoM is shrouded in imagery of death and rebirth, specifically in regards to humanity. Humanity in this case has a dual meaning: humanity as a species, and humanity as a concept. Their philosophy is that the end justifies the means in that humans in this form will be preserved and would likely live exceedingly longer lives but, as repeatedly mentioned, there are side effects.

Aging and death are integral parts of the human experience, the two aspects of life that we ALL experience regardless of circumstance. Can you be human without humanity?

The message behind these two episodes is to show that the process of becoming part of the EoM is a metaphorical crucifixion symbolizing the death of one’s humanity. And Nicholas is interesting, because he’s almost the perfect specimen in their eyes and is treated as such. Almost. The only thing holding him back are the two strands of humanity he has left, both which are nearly destroyed in the very next episode.

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EP 7: In the previous episode, during the animated flashback of Nicholas and Livio, we see a few scattered scenes of other people living at the orphanage. Interestingly, while almost all of the children are seen with very sparse detail (or even none really at all), there is one person, the caretaker, whose face we get a pretty clear picture of. At the very beginning of this episode, we have the first and only shot of the inside of the orphanage in the usual style. While none of the children are familiar and actually aren’t incredibly distinguishable from one another, there is one figure in the room with recognizable hair, but looks considerably older than in the flashback:

During the majority of their interactions, you don’t see Nicholas and Livio interacting with any of the other children. They are simply a background, a set piece to the story and a representation of just how other they were forced to become.

This episode features them fighting each other, dealing each other what should be mortal wounds, but somehow remain standing, as though they’re perfectly fine. As if on cue, the soldiers stationed call them both monsters and run away in fear.

But Vash doesn’t run from the danger. He runs towards it.

Nicholas tries to stop him, and all he gets in return is “he’s important to you, isn’t he?” as though that’s enough. But it is enough for Vash. And Nicholas doesn’t know what to do with that.

Nicholas comes dangerously close to giving up, to giving into his role as the Punisher and killing the last bit of Wolfwood to do so, but it’s Vash who stops him. He diverts his shot and, instead of hurting Livio, literally frees Nicholas from Legato and Zazie’s trap. Vash tells him to make him remember, and Nicholas thinks it’s bullshit… until he doesn’t.

And when he finally relents, when he tries to emulate what the silly blonde idiot keeps screaming at him about… It works. For a moment, but Livio does wake up for a moment. Nicholas hadn’t been able to see Rollo, but he did see this. And he really doesn’t know what to do about it.

To drive the point home, Livio drives a bullet into his own head and falls to the ground in a scene very reminiscent of Rollo’s death… but is implied to still be alive. With him saved, now it’s time for Hopeland. And this is when the narrative really turns a focus to the balance between Nicholas and Vash.

The group is half convinced that they’re about to die snd that the town will be destroyed when, all of a sudden, it’s Nicholas who’s yelling that they have to do something. Because despite all the noise Nicholas makes about self-sacrifice and calling Vash a weirdo, he’s directly inspired by his energy, which is proven correct when Vash is the first one to side with him.

Then, somehow despite the odds, the two of them manage to work together to stop the ion cannon. Which should have been impossible. And because of this, Nicholas is finally willing to give Vash the chance to take the lead on things.

When Vash and Wolfwood discuss their plan to save Hopeland, and after they argue about which method is the correct one, the conversation they have is probably the clearest depiction of Nicholas’ inner struggle:

Nicholas: Have it your way. Just for today. I do owe you one… but if the orphanage doesn’t survive this, I’ll hurt you so bad you’ll wish you were dead before I kill you.

Vash: Wolfwood…

Nicholas: Shut up! I’m the Punisher! I’m not like you… I’m Nicholas the Punisher…

He murmurs the last line as though he’s trying to convince himself. He uses his persona as the Punisher almost like a mask, like a cat puffing up and hissing to deter predators. It’s a defense mechanism, and a trauma response. Except.. it still doesn’t work, because the entire time Vash is simply not listening. Regardless of what Nicholas says, Vash does not stop fighting Nicholas on the title that was forced on him by the EoM and, in fact, blatantly rejects it. And the moment Nicholas finishes speaking, when he declares himself to be the Punisher, the episode’s title card finally appears: Wolfwood.

It's a direct representation of this panel of Nicholas' inner monologue from the manga:

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Nicholas and Vash’s roles as each other’s complements is emphasized very deliberately when the two work to stop the sand steamer from smashing into Hopeland. These screenshots occur one directly after the other:

Another detail the team mentioned often during the interview was attention to use of color. In color theory, blue and orange are complementary colors: hues that are opposite each other on the color wheel but, when used together, come together to create harmony and balance. Additionally, Vash is the character typically associated with warm hues, while Nicholas is paired with colder ones; with the colors flipped, it’s almost as if they are literally mirror images of each other.

The two are in the same position, in the middle of similar actions, both drawing strength from that which makes them “other” in order to work together to protect a common goal. And once again, miraculously, they succeed, able to do together what neither could ever have done together.

This mirror motif is even clearer when comparing these respective scenes from each of their respective backstory episodes:

For Nicholas and Vash, on top of sharing such a crucial common thread in their backstories, often in the show they are seen together, either side by side or back to back. Often they’re shown doing the same thing at the same time, almost as though they’re moving as one. And they consistently save each other over and over again, with Nicholas acting to save Vash physically, and Vash working to protect Nicholas’ psyche. Vash refuses to let anyone continue to see themselves as a monster, as lesser than, in much the same way Nicholas refuses to let anyone else be used as one.

They are a pair, a unit working together to create a force that is stronger than the sum of its parts.

They are both “other”, they are both different, and they both seek to protect the things they love and care about despite the excruciating pain it can put them through.

Nicholas and Vash’s entite dynamic is basically “I don’t understand you, but I recognize you. I recognize myself in you. And somehow, that’s enough for me to trust you.”

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So with all this in mind, here is how I’ve come to understand Nicholas’ arc throughout tristamp:

When we first meet Nicholas D. Wolfwood we meet a weary man longing for death to save him, longing to be free from the purposelessness of his life but knowing the hope is futile. He works for the Eye of Michael as an assassin against his will and has for God knows how long. Not only is he no longer a priest, but he’s no longer religious at all, having no belief in God at all and a particular disdain for the false promises and hopes of salvation that are portrayed by it. He doesn’t care about the clothes he wears, whether he looks messy, whether it’s suited for the desert, because he literally doesn’t care about anything, really. He has no home, and can never go back to the orphanage— there’s likely no one left there that he knows anyway, and even of there were, they wouldn’t recognize the monster he’s become. Nicholas is tired, he’s angry, he’s potentially depressed. He fights impractically, sometimes leaving himself open to attacks he could probably block with his Punisher, but he just doesn’t care. He’s just here to do his job, which is to escort his piece of shit CEO’s assumedly equally piece of shit brother to him so they can destroy the world together and he can hopefully die off in peace.

Until he actually meets Vash, and he’s… really fucking weird. He’s dumb and naive and acts like he knows Nicholas on some deep level after they’ve just met, but… he’s not a bad guy. Just another crybaby who doesn’t understand the world. He can see the Punisher and not be frightened by it. That means something, means enough that he feels that he can introduce himself now. He still doesn’t know how to handle kindness, so he deflects whenever it’s shown to him, making irreverent jokes and being annoying in order push people away. But then he meets Rollo and has a flashback to himself. He learns that Vash is no stranger to false promises, has sold the same thing to the kid who ended up just like him, and yeah, Vash is no better than the EoM. He talks a big game but doesn’t actually know anything. Nicholas kills Rollo out of mercy because it’s what he wishes could be done to him; every day of living his life is torture.

But then his hometown and childhood best friend are suddenly in danger. He’d completely forgotten what it felt like to have something to lose, to protect. And without planning for it, Vash also becomes something to protect, because even if he doesn’t act like it, Nicholas desperately wants to believe in him. He doesn’t want the EoM to be right. But the feeling of having something to protect is terrifying, because it means you have something to lose. Nicholas gets incredibly stressed out by this, because it’s been so long that he doesn’t even remember what it feels like. But it’s enough to get him, for likely the first time in a very long time, to hope. And it’s Vash who helps him so that he’s able to hang on to that hope for a little while longer.

He still can’t get too excited, because he hasn’t actually finished his job yet. Before he does, though, he sees Vash’s scars (which was a deliberate choice, as in both the manga AND the og anime this scene went to the girls) and wow, if it weren’t for the regenerative properties of the drug, he would likely look the same. He drops Vash off with Knives and knows that Vash will likely be killed, but he’s also expecting to die himself in the fallout, so it doesn’t matter, really. Except for some reason, it does a bit. And then, yet again, Vash miraculously doesn’t die, and in fact changes the game and actually looks like he might stand a chance against Knives, and is clearly willing to die to do it.

And then July is destroyed. But, miraculously, Nicholas isn’t dead. He still finished the contract, but now… now what?

The show began with Nicholas at his lowest, and ends with Vash at his lowest point. And Nicholas owes him one.

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INCREDIBLY long story short, it really is clear that they weren’t kidding, the team really drew SO MUCH inspiration from the themes trimax it’s unbelievable and I really really think we’re in for something incredible during the second phase. I also think it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.

#trigun stampede #trigun #trigun 2023 #nicholas d. wolfwood #nicholas the punisher #tristamp #tristamp wolfwood #vash the stampede #tristamp vash #this had no reason being this long but fuck it we ball and i was off work and had the time anyway #neurodivergency go brrr ig idk but like i really haven’t seen anyone mention any of this #and like it really is entirely possible someone did but like i Need to discuss it

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