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delaber · 1 year

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To Let You Win (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: a sparring match between you and your best friend turns into something you’ve both been keeping under the surface when he refuses to let you lose the game

Words: 2K

Flufffffff 💖 (with a squint towards a smuttier theme hehe)

"Holy fuck it's hot in here," Bucky wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and resumes the fighting stance he'd been occupying before exclaiming that he was sweating balls.

"Alright," you laugh and flip the makeshift knife in your hand, "just tell me if you need a break to regain your strength, old man."

"Oh doll, I don't need a break," he grins and threateningly takes a step towards you without blinking, "I can take you with both arms tied behind my back."

There it is again...

One of those ill-timed comments that you try and laugh away in a poor attempt at hiding just exactly how bad they make your stomach churn and the back of your neck prickle.

Pretending that you do not have a major crush on the man standing in front of you has become full of feeble attempts, and to avoid embarrassing yourself, you settle on an equally threatening "I'd like to see you try," accompanied by a playful smile that you cannot hold back no matter how much you try to.

He winks at you before he, without warning, lurches forwards, swinging his fake dagger mere inches from your chest.

He's quick, but you're quicker, and while he's focusing on touching one of the spots you in unison decided would be considered a kill-zone, you jump as high as you can while wrapping your legs around his hips.

Immediately thrown off balance, he falls backwards and lands on the white felt floor with a dull thud followed by a grunt as your weight lands on top of him.

Before he can even move, you've pinned him to the floor with a knee placed on each side of his torso.

"Surrender?" you grin and lean forwards as you press your wooden weapon to his bopping Adam's apple.

"Okay, you got me," he laughs and raises his hands above his head to capitulate.

You know that he can easily flip the two of you around and turn his fake demise to his own advantage; place his entire weight between your legs as his thick thighs glue your hips to the spot, ready to devour you as he sinks his teeth into your neck, filling up the empty hole inside you that's constantly begging for his touch.

God, he smells amazing!

"Sweetheart," he chuckles from far away and you realise you've done it again; become lost as you daydream about your best friend fucking you into oblivion.

"Not that I'm not enjoying this," he places both hands on your hips and gently pushes you back with a stomach-flipping grunt, "- but my back is killing me, and I really need to change out of this shirt."

Your gaze falls to the hand you have carefully placed on top of his sternum, suddenly aware of the wet stains of his t-shirt and the heavy heartbeat drumming below your fingers.

"Of course," you immediately pocket your fake knife and release the grip you have on him as you stand up. "Sorry," you mumble, embarrassed by yourself and your inability to play it cool whenever you're around him.

"No worries," he winks at you from the side of the ring and reaches behind his head, grabbing the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling it off with one swift movement.

You've seen him shirtless countless of times before, but it never ceases to amaze you just how good he looks. He has angry scars extending from his waistline, zig-zagging and digging into the skin lining his entire stomach and chest, reaching all the way up to the torn flesh of his shoulder and it makes him look so fucking beautiful. You know he hates the bare-chested sight of himself in the mirror, but you doubt there could ever be a single facet of Bucky Barnes that you would not love.

"You've been working on your takedown," he eyes you impressively, either ignoring your obvious stare, or choosing not to believe that you actually like him shirtless. "I can't wait to see you break Sam's back with that move," he chuckles, "I love when he's having his ass handed to him."

"I highly doubt that'll happen seeing as Sam doesn't let me win," you mock Bucky while adjusting the strip of cloth that is wrapped tightly around your knuckles. "He actually fights back when he's down."

"Come on, you had a knife pressed to my throat!" Bucky chuckles but you merely raise your eyebrow at him, well-aware that he stopped fighting for the sake of your keeping your confidence intact and not because you'd beat him.

"Okay, okay," he laughs at your dead-pan expression, "maybe I let you win a little. I want it to be fun for you too - so sue me."

"Buck, we're supposed to be training," you sigh, holding your hands out to the side, "how am I ever gonna get better if you won't give me a fair fight?"

"Sweetheart," he licks his lips and squints as he considers how to put his next words in the most delicate way possible. "I bench press more than you weigh... It's never gonna be a fair fight."

"Well if I don't get to practise on you, how do you reckon it'll go when I'm up against a guy your size for real?"

"A guy my size with seventy years of combat training and serum running through his veins? Sure, that's likely to happen..."

You ignore him. "Get down on your back and continue fighting me like you normally would."

He crosses his bulky arms over his chest while arching his eyebrow.

"I'm serious!”

"I don’t care," he shakes his head, “I’m not doing it.”

"Well if you don't, you can consider this our last training session."

"Come on - this is ridiculous!"

"Lie down, same as before."

"You've got to be kidding me," he mumbles under his breath as he rolls his eyes but he still ends up doing as you say. "Happy?" He defiantly throws his arms out to the side when he's once again lying with his back against the white felt.

"Can't say that I'm not enjoying this more obedient side to you," you laugh and sink down on top of him, straddling his chest again, "didn’t think you had it in you - where do you normally keep it?"

"Shut up."

"Then fight me."

"I'm not gonna fight you," he shakes his head.

"Bucky, do me like you normally would!"

His grin broadens in a boyish smile as his hand twitches near your thigh. "Really?" he laughs while licking his lips, mockingly slipping his eyes down to your chest and back up again. "You want me to do you like I normally would?" He winks.

Another stomach flip… You have to suppress a gulp.

"Shut up," you chuckle and lightly smack his arm to get his mind out of the gutter. "You know what I mean."

"Sweetheart," he sighs with serious eyes, his smile still perfectly in place, "- are you sure you really wanna do this?"

Now it's your turn to roll your eyes. "Yes, Barnes..."

"Alright - just remember that you asked for it," he shrugs before he quickly grabs your hips and shifts the position around.

You don't even get to yelp - you barely have time to register what the hell just happened before you're lying on your back with Bucky's lower half pressed to yours, trapping you in place.

His dog tags are dangling in the air between you and you can feel the heat radiating from off his bare chest that is panting enticingly right before your eyes.

"Now, are you happy?" He asks and makes a point of his statement by pressing himself closer to your body, so you're completely sandwiched between him and the floor with no means of escaping.

"Goddammit!"

To further underline his superiority, he pins your wrists together and forces them above your head, holding you steady with one hand only.

"Surrender?" He asks in the same mocking tone of voice you used before, his plump and grinning lips suddenly mere inches from yours.

You can feel your entire body stretching below his, how he drives his hips into yours to keep you in place.

"Fuck," you mumble in frustration and start wriggling your hips to try and get free. "Bucky!" You groan to get him to release you, but even you can hear how your struggling sounds come out almost moan-like, and you see how the smile on his face is suddenly replaced with small, almost inaudible gasps.

Immediately, you stop moving, suddenly aware of the excitement growing tight in his pants while the rest of his body is completely frozen above you.

"Sorry..." you gulp as you slowly look up at him, finding the panicked blue that is half-hidden behind long chestnut strands falling sinfully over his eyes.

You've never been in this position before; on rare occasions you have cuddled long into the night, arms and legs entangled on his bedsheets to the tune of a long-forgotten movie playing in the background - but this? This is different. It's not cute and cuddly.

The look in Bucky's eyes has shifted in a heartbeat, and it's not teasing anymore. It's raw. It's passionate. And when he quickly shifts his gaze down to your mouth and up again, you give in to what you've been wanting to do for months now.

Without thinking, you strain your neck upwards touching the side of his nose with yours, placing a soft kiss on his lips for the first time ever.

He's perplexed - still completely frozen - but when you let go of his mouth shortly after, he wrinkles his brows in silent frustration.

He's panting hard, digging his lower half into you as he looks at you with a fire ignited in his eyes you've never seen before.

You put your hand on his neck, pulling him down towards you, throwing your pillow-soft kisses out the window by placing your thumb on his chin, slipping your tongue inside his open mouth while you move your pelvis rhythmically against his.

"Sweetheart," he whispers with swollen and wet lips as he slightly pulls away. He's breathing hard but his entire body is heavy and relaxed as he looks down at you with lust written all over his warm face - and you choose that exact moment to attack.

Quickly, you wrap your legs around his body as you flip the two of you around so you're finally sitting on top of him again.

"What are you doing?" he pants, confused about your sudden movements.

"Winning," you whisper back with a grin.

It takes him a minute to register your words and set them in connection with the conversation you'd had just before your friendship had passed the point of no return, but when he does, he throws his head back with a frustrating grunt at your dirty trick.

"Not cool," he shakes his head with a chuckle, half-amused, half-annoyed. "Not cool at all. You had me all excited," he groans and puts his hands on your hips, pressing you down on his hard erection.

"Tell me I'm winning," you chuckle as you run your fingers down his chest, suggestively arching your back while he's turning into a mess beneath you.

"Fuck," he groans and rubs circles over your thighs as his erection grows a little harder. "You better not be doing this to the guys you fight in the field."

You put your hand atop of his sternum and slowly start rocking your hips back and forth against him, arching your back while rubbing yourself along the tight bulge underneath you. "Tell me I'm winning."

"You win! You win!" he pants and traces his fingers down your throat and cleavage, laying his palms flat over your stomach as he angles his hips upwards. "Just... don't stop. Don't stop."

"Kiss me, Bucky," you whisper and pull on his dog tags so he can only inch closer to your craving lips.

"Oh doll, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this!" he groans sensually with pink cheeks as he finally reclaims your mouth.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes friends to lovers

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kissitbttr · 2 months

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your mafia!toji fic got me thinking so hard abt him😭😭 he’s deffo the type to just buy you sm stuff as an apology but when you don’t forgive him and sleep in a different bedroom mf will come into the room on his knees and beg for you to come to sleep 😩😩 imagine still saying no and him just flipping you onto his shoulders and carrying you to bed 🤭

oh you are absolutely correct!

“darling” toji softly calls you, letting out a tired sigh. “i said i was sorry. what am i supposed to do?”

“die” she replies nonchalantly, shoulders shrugging before grabbing a pillow and your favorite blanket off the bed,

he snickers, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow. “now, now that would be over dramatic don’t you think? won’t you miss me?”

he almost pisses his pants when she throws him a glare,

“okay. no jokes. got it” he put his hands up in surrender, feeling absolutely terrified at his baby being mad and speaking less than two words to him,

if anyone ever finds out that the most feared and notorious man in the city being tamed by his woman, he would never hear the end of it,

but she is scary. can you blame him?

toji looks over at the designer shoes and bags he just purchased a few hours ago, tucked neatly in the corner. untouched by her.

guess the apology gifts aren’t working,

“i didn’t know that she was coming, i haven’t even talked to her in years! never planned to anyway, you know i only got my eyes for my girl, right?”

she tries so hard not to roll her eyes,

toji had a meeting with one of the cartels at the club earlier that night. and of course, she always goes. it’s where he can always keep an eye on her and refuses to leave her at home all alone because he can’t risk that. also, because she’s his good luck charm. whenever she’s around, deals always goes well,

tonight was an exception though,

all was well until a certain person decided to crash. his old fling. one before he met his precious girlfriend. the red haired thought that it would be fun to press her fake ass tits against toji,

y/n was shocked to say at least. she didn’t say anything but her face spoke thousand words. toji could see that. throwing daggers at the bitch, corner of her lips quirk into a form of disgust.

and the worst part was? toji didn’t do anything about it! can you believe that asshole?!

something about being absolutely unprofessional if he was ever to push her off and it ticked y/n to the fucking bone so she decided to ignore him the rest of the night,

toji feels defeated when she chooses not to respond, simply just taking her stuff. he crouches lightly to look at her pretty face clearly. “baby… can you please look at me? I can’t stand seeing you mad. i’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”

if it was any circumstances, sure she would melt and jump in his arms. but tonight is different. how could he?

she looks up at him and whisper “fuck. you” before turning around angrily and walk out of the door to go sleep on the guest room,

toji groans, the heel of his palms pressing against his eyes. she has always been so stubborn. too fucking stubborn. exactly why he had to get rejected seven times before she accepted his date.

what? he needed to get humbled, so she gave him that.

he contemplate for a while whether or not he should let her be or not. then he chooses the latter. it would probably be best if he let her cool off some steam for a while, he doesn’t want to do any more damage or make her feel more annoyed by his presence,

bet. not even ten minutes later, he feels like losing his mind without her here.

“fuck this shit” he mutters, getting up from the bed. rubbing his face furiously before stomping towards the other side of the room,

he walks in without knocking, ready to say what he needs to say again. yet he stops. heart clenching at the sight of his girl curled up in bed, back facing him.

“love?” he slowly walks over to her laying figure,

“go away” she speaks. now in a softer tone

“please” he begs, walking around the bed and catching a glimpse of her playing with her pink manicured hands. “sweetheart. I’m sorry” he repeats, going down to her eye level before letting his hand moves to rest on her bare thigh. he’s internally relieved when she doesn’t push him off,

he sighs when she’s not looking at him, seemingly only focused on the nails that she had gotten done a week ago.

“i should’ve pushed her off. shouldn’t let her touch me like that. hell, i shouldn’t even let her breathe near me. i know that” he realizes his mistake. “i didn’t even think about what my girl needed. i was being a horrible boyfriend”

no answer,

he sighs again, refusing to look away from her pretty eyes,

“baby—“

“i heard you the first time. leave. and close the door”

toji is taken aback. fuck. she really is mad at him.

“you don’t mean that”

“uhm, yes i do” she retorts in an obvious tone, sassily raising her eyebrow before scooting a bit further from him. she doesn’t realize this but it makes his heart break,

“princess, i swear-“

“go call that girl back to keep you company. let that fucking bitch sleep by your side” she mutters, looking at the tv instead of him,

he can’t take this anymore,

“you know what? that’s it” toji had enough, he will not be sleeping alone and neither will she. standing up on his feet, his hands reach out to circle around her ankles before tugging her body towards him causing her to yelp,

“toji! what the fuck are you doing-oh!” her voice gets cut off the moment he pulls her body up like she weighs nothing. throwing her over his shoulder. “put me down!” her fists start to hitting his back—as if they’re actually hurting him— legs swinging back and forth

“nope” he answers, keeping a firm grip around her waist before swatting her ass, locking the guest room behind him and walking back to their shared one. “you’re driving me crazy, woman—not saying that i hate it, but i’m pretty fucking beat tonight and we are going to sleep together. so stop fighting me”

she huffs, admitting defeat and letting him carry to the bed. “fuck you, toji”

he smirks at that. “oh i will, baby”

#mafia!toji #toji x reader

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chappellroansdreamgirl · 13 days

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officer!els<3

author's note - meow i love this woman.

content warnings - black!coded!reader ig????, fluff, els i love u ellie williams pls handcuff me to ur bed and police-brutalize me! , text msgs from reader that are very me-coded! , mostly just based off every grumpy but cool cop i've seen in media, lots of notes from me i'm going insane I NEED HER!!!!! , there's a white man in a pic i put... you have been warned, smut/suggestive shit at the end!

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- def wanted to be a cop when she was a kid and then was a total fucking juvenile as a teen. (duh!)

- always loved the police officers who barely ever gave troubled kids a hard time. (this is coming from a troubled kid. acab all the way except for u guys. well, still acab, but y'all r cool!) would refuse to talk to anyone except her favorites. i fully believe that's one of the reasons she would go into this workforce.

- when she got approved to start training to be a cop, u were home with her favorite strand of weed and she gave u a look like, "🤨🤨" , "can't be doing that no more baby, i'm gonna be a cop." , "...stfu and take the first hit before you piss me off..." , she's wearing a SHIT-eating grin before she takes it. (don't ask me how she passes her drug-tests!) (probably gets jesse to do it or someone idk maybe joel if she's lucky!) (def not joel...)

- ADDING ONTO THIS!^^ : every single time you smoke when she can't she'll look so sad or just side-eye tf out of you... "really?" , "what do you want me to do ellie..." u stopped smoking around her when she couldn't...

- this woman is so intimidating but once those cop dogs come on the scene she's so cute<3 . she's so smiley and happy they love her AND SHE LOVES THEM. she definitely sent u a picture of her with the group of the babies and was like, "can we adopt them all pls i love them ):" . you guys adopted a rescue pup shortly after...

- whenever you're doing ANYTHING EVER she flashes her badge at you and says something so loser of her , "don't make me handcuff you..." or makes finger guns with the sounds and GOD I LOVE THIS WOMAN.

- speaking of badges, she always has her badge on her. ALWAYS. it is EMBARRASSING!

- when she got her first arrest she was so happy:3 . i FEEL like she took a picture with the fucker and everything and she looked so proud of herself. "good job baby now pls get to the station before that mf breaks out of those handcuffs he looks like he's gonna murder u..."

- this is a headcannon of mine (and canon so why am i saying hc maybe it's just bcs it's more in-depth in my head.) but she loves kids and whenever she sees a younger person at the station, she makes sure that they're ok and have everything they need.

- with that being said, she HATES the teens who don't have a valid reason to be such delinquents. lovable delinquents are her soft-spot but those... THOSE ONES😧.

- definitely is a kitten-saver-cop. hates getting the call but she responds every time.

- sends u this pic anytime u say something mildly threatening to her in text msgs:

suggestive/NSFW!

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- the day she got her uniform, you wanted to jump her bones. she came back home, poor girl was so tired and all you could think about is how good she looked in that shit.

- like i said... the badge is with her at all times... maybe this is too feral but i feel like she put IT in ur mouth and took a polaroid of it after u were done eating her out or SSAAAWWWWMMMMTHHHIIIIING. (pls let me wear ur badge baby i'm on my knees BEGGING YOU!)

- definitely joked about role-playing jailer/jailed and then it wasn't a joke anymore. y'all tried it once and couldn't stop laughing.

- has definitely used her handcuffs on u or vice versa. she gets so excited when u pull that shit out.

- ggggg...g-g-gu-....gggggggggguuuunnn ki-

- definitely has fucked u in the uniform. u two probs have had a quickie in the station bathroom on multiple occasions.

bonus round - police!els edit<3 :

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everlastlady · 7 months

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Vampire Miguel HCS

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✰- Author's Note: Hello! My little spiders welcome back to another Miguel story. I decided to write some Miguel content before I rest up. I'm writing this from inside the Tumblr app. Since I usually write on google doc from my phone or laptop. Which I think/believe that Tumblr should add a word count for the app, I think it will really help writers. Anyway this is vampire Miguel hcs with a female reader, don't worry I'll make a separate one soon for male readers because I really need to also cater to my male followers if y'all want I could also make one for my non binary followers as well. So for now remember to eat a meal or snack, drink some water, get fresh air, take your medicine and vitamins, and especially remember that you are loved. If you enjoyed these hcs then please consider commenting, tapping or clicking on the heart, reblogging with tags, or blaze this post if you can. Remember to always support your local writers! ♡♡♡♡♡

✰- Story Contains Blood, Biting, Fem reader, Violence, Fluff, Smut so minors dni, stalking ,Protective Miguel, & author giggling like a bitch over smut.

✰- Posted: Sunday, October 8th 2023 at 1:21 a.m

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Vampire Miguel who has been watching you for a while. Ever since he stopped that guy from robbing you in that alley when you were coming home from working. Miguel couldn't get you out of his mind especially the scent of your blood from when the man had cut you when you refused to hand over your bag and fought with him. Good thing Miguel showed up to save you. But the scent of your blood was so strong that he had to control himself and hurry up and leave. He let you call the police, you were happy the mask man saved you but was confused at his behavior.

Vampire Miguel who continues to watch. He found out that you live in the same apartment building that isn't to far from his. He likes how well you keep your house clean. But hates how rude your neighbors are, he wishes he could get rid of them so that you sleep better at night. He thinks that you look adorable when you are asleep at night. Still having to himself back from opening your window and crawling on top of you to stick his fangs into your neck, he wanted to know what sweet sounds you would make. Thinking about this so much, he goes home and strokes his cock to the image of you underneath him as he's pounding into you while his fangs are buried into your neck like his cock would be in your sweetness.

Vampire Miguel who finally gathers up the courage to talk with you. So he pretends to introduce himself at the coffee shop you go to before work. The two of you talk and get to know each other, exchanging phone numbers, and waving goodbye. He did it! Now he has to act cool because he has scored a date with you. At his place he makes you dinner and can't wait for you to come. He thinks you look beautiful in the dress you were wearing, your hair, make-up, and jewelry looked beautiful. Miguel's dinner looked and smelled great. The two of you ate, drank, and dance.

Vampire Miguel who goes on more dates with you and eventually becomes your boyfriend. You find it stranges how he always sleeps during the day but is active as a cat at night. He seems to always be gone at night. Sometimes he won't talk when he sees you and it worries you. Also he smells metallic. He eventually tells you that he's a vampire and is spiderman, now he's scared that you'll run out screaming and tell someone. But you don't you still love him and stay by his side. Though you wished he told you earlier but you understand he was scared.

Vampire Miguel who loves to stuff you with his fingers as you unravel underneath him. When he's pumping his fingers in and out of you trying to prepare you for his length. He absolutely loves to praise you, calling you his good girl or sweet little thing. And when you are finally ready he slides himself into your pussy pushing his hips into yours while feeling how you squeeze around his cock. You feel so damn good. You could hear him grunt and see how his fangs scrap across his lips, as he's thrusting. He bites your neck, breasts, ass, thighs, and stomach. He wants people to know that you are his.

Vampire Miguel who has beat people to a bloody plump for messing with you that sometimes you have to grab onto him and yell for him to stop. His red rage filled eyes would stare at you before fading back to those beautiful brown chocolate orbs. He would apologize and pick you up, leaving quickly. You would patch up Miguel and remind him that he needs to work on keeping control so he makes a promise to keep his anger in check for the both of you.

Vampire Miguel who shits on other vampire movies and shows calling them dramatic, misinformed, or stupid. Though he's very fond of the movie Dark Shadows the old version and Tim Burton's version. He also questions your taste in vampire stories whether it's books you read online or books you buy.

Vampire Miguel who when he bites you for a quick snack especially when he's seriously injured and needs blood. Is gentle, even though he didn't want to bite you at first but you reassured him that it's fine. He's gentle when he bites you and never takes too much from you. But will make sure you get you some water and snack to eat after he drinks from you.

Vampire Miguel thinks about turning you into a vampire but it's your choice to make. Miguel will love you no matter what if you grow older and older he will still be by your side especially when you become an old lady he will still protect and love you, no one will mess with you at bingo night or when you are knitting away in your cozy chair. When you die he will visit your grave everyday and leave a rose there on your birthday or your guys anniversary.

Vampire Miguel that If you do choose to become a vampire, Miguel has a lot to teach you and is glad to have someone by his side. He brings home a lot of donated blood, but sometimes you aren't afraid to get your hands dirty and help him fight crime. Miguel thinks it's hot whenever you have blood on your mouth that it leads to a steamy make out session on the floor and then leads to sex on the floor. Thanks to the abilities from you both now, y'all be fucking on the ceiling but it's not like he wasn't pounding into you on the ceiling when you were human.

Vampire Miguel who thinks it's cute whenever you dress up as vampire for Halloween and get those fake fangs. He will also dress up like a vampire to match with you at parties. All your friends and people at the party tell him that the blood on him and his fangs on him look so real. Miguel chuckled as your just let out a nervous laugh hoping no one gains the third eye or a new brain cell.

Vampire Miguel who tells you that garlic doesn't really kill vampires that it just makes them sick but to the point they die. So when Miguel accidentally ate a dish that had garlic in it. You took care of him but he did say that silver makes vampires break so you replaced your silverware with fake silverware. Miguel was in a awe he saw how much you listened to him about vampires and sacrificed a lot to keep him safe so he did the same by keeping his hunger in check, anger in check, and keeping you away from greedy and corrupted vampires that could hurt you or his enemies from whenever he's being spiderman.

Vampire Miguel who will love you until the end of time whether you choose to stay human or become a vampire like him. Because no matter what you choose Miguel will love you for a thousand years and thousand more.

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📖Taglist/Miguel's Simps: @sukioyakio @quechulitaaa @miguelcvmslvt @homewreckingwreck @tayleighuh @lauraolar14

『 Let me know if you wanna be added or removed from the tag list! 』

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themotherofhorses · 10 months

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pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

summary: “she’s a bastard—‘innit the truth, mother?”

warnings: explicit language. angst. much angst. nothing but angst. i cannot stress it enough.

notes: well this is rather unfortunate.

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

The raven arrives at nightfall, at an hour so late that only Aemond is awake to accept it. The princeling could not find sleep that night, instead rolling off the bed and crossing the chambers to his windows, before pulling back the heavy tapestries and throwing them open one by one.

The cool air is a welcoming feeling to his feverish skin, hot to the touch from hours of lovemaking under the sheets.

He stands facing the darkness, naked and at utter peace, in pure happiness. His precious girl sleeps soundly behind him, with the thick furs pulled up to her chin, hiding the most of her beneath the blankets. She is so utterly beautiful in the moonlight. It’s been three long months since his sons were born, and Aemond was beginning to hope his seed would again take. His loins ache at the thought, and he fights the sudden urge to slip in between her thighs. Perhaps she’d give him a daughter this time.

In his dreams, she wears her mother’s face, in a gown of Targaryen colors with a dragon hatchling sitting on her shoulder. She pokes him awake in the morning, and pleads for a quick ride atop Vhagar before grandmother arrives to begin her history lessons.

His daughter has his love’s eyes and smile, he thinks again, and her nose scrunches up in the same way hers does.

I want it.

He shakes his head.

Let her rest, you fool.

When the black raven arrives at his windowpane, he is a bit confused. He waves the bird away before it could make another squawk, and stares down at the scroll taken from it, eying the blood-red ribbon tied into a pretty, tight knot around. In his head, he weighs the choices in taking it as his own. Should he…? Or should he not? His curiosity clashes with his righteousness.

Aemond decides to, in the end.

He takes the scroll to his desk, quietly lighting a small candle before taking a seat and unrolling it out to read. The writing is in pretty cursive yet smells of cheap ink, with a slight smudge staining the edge of the paper. It is addressed to his handmaid, he realizes, starting with her name that leads to a sweet congratulations on her newfound motherhood. Twins, your uncle had said. How marvelous to hear. I hope to meet them soon, my dear.

With all the love in this lifetime—your mother, Alys Rivers.

“With all the love in this lifetime,” he repeats aloud, shaking his head, refusing to believe. His fingers tighten around the letter, the tips turning a jarring white. “Your mother, Alys Rivers.”

Aemond then glares up at the woman lying in his bed, a bitter twist on his mouth. She shifts a little bit beneath his gaze, but remains relaxed and asleep and blissfully ignorant of the rising anger sparking deep inside him.

Who is she? For the first time since he met her, he asks himself that.

He should’ve suspected this.

“A bastard, Lord Beesbury, mothered by the daughter of a milk cow.”

Aemond turns away from her, back to the darkness outside.

Her mother is a bastard rivers woman, it seems. At least that is how it reads. Alys Rivers. She carries no man’s last name in her letter. What is her daughter, if not the same as her? He picks at his mind, trying to remember if she ever mentioned her father. Aemond returns to staring up at the moon and the white stars blinking high above in the midnight sky.

He suddenly feels no desire to return to bed with her tonight.

But she is the mother of your children, his mind argues, and it leaves him irritated.

She’s given him two heirs, his first-born children, beautiful twin boys that are mirrors to their own father, himself. And the daughter he’s dreamt of…But…they’re bastards too, he then reminds himself. You love them the same way you love her, do not lie to yourself. It was not enough to ease his thoughts, and reason with him, and stop the ugly bitterness from rising in his throat.

Damn her.

Aemond stuffs the letter inside one of the desk drawers, not wishing to lay eyes on it again. Maybe he’ll burn it later in the day. He then shrugs on his robe, tying it around his waist, before leaving the room. She’ll wake up in the morning, and search for his hand buried within the sheets. When she realizes she is alone in the bed, he knows she will pout before readying to tend to her babies, like the mother he’s made her into.

Damn her.

Then she will move on to her responsibilities, like the silly, dumb handmaid she is.

Damn her.

That is all she should’ve remained, Aemond thinks, curiously calm as he strides down the hallway. He doesn’t know where he is going, but he knows he will not return this night. Bastards never amount to anything else.

Aemond hasn’t spoken to her in three days, dismissing his handmaid from his bedchamber before he retires for the evening. She no longer fetches his hot baths or crawls beneath the blankets with him. He hasn’t allowed it. He avoids the nursey too, where he knows his twin sons sleep in their cots, too young to notice their father’s absence. Aemond walks the halls of the Red Keep, as he has walked a thousand times before, but disregards all the rooms where he knows her presence painfully lingers.

She does not fight nor question him. He knows she won’t.

“Aemond.”

He hears her voice in his slumber, always- sometimes in a breathless whisper, and most times in a scream, or a whimper, or an anguished howl. She always manages to find him, following him into his dreams and nightmares and antagonizing him into insanity. Her shadow stands over his bed. And around her neck dangles the sapphire necklace, while her pretty eyes weep both tears and blood.

“Aemond, please!” she cries, bawling up the sides of her dress in her fist. The plain cloth is stained in dried blood, splashed across her belly and thighs. “Aemond, please, I need you, husband!”

“AEMOND.”

This time tonight, it causes Aemond Targaryen to jerk upright, pulled from a horrible nightmare that still clouds his thoughts. The sheets are tangled between his fingers, and his heart is heaving heavily within his breast. He hears her voice echoing, begging for her husband. “Aemond.” His attention quickly darts to the door, where his mother stands, tall and regal and noticeably pissed. She calls his name again loudly. Although still groggy, he stumbles his way towards her.

His mother does not greet him. Instead, her brown eyes remain on his empty bed, skimming across the sheets and the way the heavy fur blanket nearly hangs off the foot of his bed. He must’ve kicked it off him during his sleep.

She frowns at the sight, before looking back at him.

“So it is true, then.”

Aemond rubs at his eye, tilting his head in confusion. “What is true, mother?”

“That she hasn’t been seen in your room for the past three days; instead, she’s returned to her old room across the castle, where the other maids sleep. Three days, and three nights.” His mother spoke in anger, yet her face remained a mask that betrayed nothing. It is one thing he greatly admired about her, in the same way it terrified him the most. “And you haven’t visited your sons as well, I’m told.”

He flushes. “I’ve been busy,” he grumbles, shifting on his bare feet. “I’ll see them tomorrow, in the morning after we break fast together.”

“Tomorrow? You’ll see them tomorrow? AEMOND!” she shouts, incredulous. Her hair hangs loosely around her face, and she pushes a thick strand behind her right ear. “You wanted these babies so badly, and yet you are beginning to neglect them before their second nameday. Have you lost all fucking sense?!”

Aemond bites his tongue in an attempt to keep his own temper from flaring up in response to her yelling. He says nothing in return, which he knows only upsets his mother further.

“What has happened, Aemond?” she asks. “This is unlike you. You love those boys, and that girl too.”

“Nothing,” he says, a bit too quickly. “Nothing has happened. I’ve simply been too busy to play anymore games with her.”

“Games? Games?! That is all shit,” his mother blazes. “Utter shit. Do not begin to take me as a fucking fool, Aemond. I am not your father, and I am not your brother, and eldest sister either. Now you tell me, boy, what has happened.”

Aemond sighs. “She’s a bastard—‘innit the truth, mother?” He meets her eyes and feels his poor heart sinking at the silent shock that instantly falls across her features and the way she makes no move to deny it. “A bastard.” Saying it aloud, it makes him wish to return to his bed, and curl up in his sheets, completely hidden from this cruel world that damned him to fall in love with a stupid bastard girl. “A damn, no good, bastard girl from Harrehnal—”

But he is then cut off by a sharp backhand blow to the side of his face that quickly sends him stumbling two steps back, almost falling hard against the wall. Aemond holds his cheek, breath hitching as he brushes a tender finger against the already reddening skin that he knows will surely show a dark bruise on the morrow. It feels hot, and it stings. He looks up at his mother, who has never hit him before.

“How dare you speak of her in such a way,” she spits, purpled with rage. Her hand twitches at her side, as if she itches to slap him again. He deserves it, he thinks. “HOW DARE YOU. She is the mother of your children, and you dare behold her with such loathing venom?”

“AND YOU DID NOT THINK TO TELL ME BEFOREHAND?” he shouts back, half hurt from the realization that she watched him fall smitten with the bastard, and never thought to tell him the truth. “She is the cousin of those bastards that took my eye, their own blood!”

“And? It is the truth, yes, that she is a riverlands bastard, born to a woman at Harrenhal. Lord Larys is her true uncle, who brought her to us at my request. But damn you, Aemond, that girl is so fucking in love with you.”

All his words fall stuck in his throat, and he fails to push them out.

“Have you nothing more to say?”

His queen mother sniffs when he says nothing, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. Perhaps it is best she drinks the moon tea, lest she gives you another child that you won’t love nor appreciate because of its mother’s unfortunate bastardy.” Aemond remains silent, and her mouth drops into another scowl. “You lied to me when you promised that you would never be your father or Aegon.”

I am not, he wants to scream out. His knees buckle in weakness at her cruel words, and the sheer disappointment laced within them. It hurts worse than her slap.

I love her so much, I swear, and my boys too. I love anything she gives me, and I promise…I promise…I promise…

“You, Aemond, carry their eyes and hair and nose, everyone can see. But I know the truth now—you carry their pig attitude as well,” she remarks, pushing herself toward him. “I’ll send her back to her mother, I promise, and find another handmaid for you, one that is to your liking.”

She says not another word, instead turning to the houseguard that had accompanied her to his hall. “I’m tired. Please help me back to my bedchamber,” she asks, pressing her fingertips against his temple. “I would appreciate such, my good knight.”

His mother leaves him silent and still, sad and scared and helpless and heartbroken, staring down at his toes as they grow damp from his tears.

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houserautha · 30 days

Text

These Destined Ends

Part 4

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: a striptease?, female masturbation, hints at incest/sexual abuse, mentions of killing, he fingers you at the dinner table, public humiliation aplenty

A/N: I made it exactly *checks clipboard* three parts without smut

The garment bag is composed of the finest fabric you’ve ever seen. Your pulse hammers at the thought of whatever might lay within — what could Feyd-Rautha have possibly chosen for you? You eye his usual all black garb.

Zipper cool to the touch, you glide it open, pushing aside the garment bag to reveal your present. Bile rises to your throat at the same time you feel a familiar swoop of desire in your stomach, a summation of your relationship with Feyd-Rautha so far.

The dress — if it could even be called that — shimmers seductively, black, and somehow inlaid with thousands of glittering beads. Two slim straps keep it secured, dangling, from the hanger. And there’s remarkably not much else to comment on: the straps descend daringly low, barely enough to cover your decency.

A belt encircles the middle of the dress loosely, and you can only imagine how it would withstand even the slightest of breezes without exposing you. You swallow, deliberating.

“Where is the rest?”

Feyd-Rautha reclines back in the chair. “Wife, why would I disguise your beauty with useless fabric? It would only pale in comparison.”

“I hardly believe this is acceptable dinner attire,” you point out, surprised at the coolness in your tone.

“It’s rude to refuse a gift,” Feyd-Rautha says. “Will you deny me the pleasures of gifting my wife for the first time?”

You bite your tongue to keep from lashing out. Fine, if that’s how he wanted to play.

Clearly this was his retaliation for your bold behavior, you just hadn’t expected it to come so swiftly after his arrival, or in the form of public humiliation. Normally you wouldn’t dare wear such an affront to fashion, or your sensibilities.

“Very well. I would be remiss to…deny you.” You look to Asha, who has presided over the entire interaction with wide eyes. With a smile, you say, “I would like you to undress me now.”

Her mouth opens, then snaps closed.

The upper level of the antechamber positions you higher than Feyd-Rautha, whose dark eyes have taken on the delighted glint of someone encountering a worthy opponent in the arena. Asha nervously obeys your command as you hold your arms out to your sides, allowing her to undo the difficult laces of your dress. The only sound in the room is the sound of it pooling at your feet.

“I hardly think my husband’s generous gift will allow for underclothes,” you laugh. Asha then begins removing your thin chemise from over your head. She tugs it up over her arms and your breasts slip from the fabric, leaving you entirely naked in the glow of the black sun.

Desire unfurls between your legs. You don’t even have to glance at Feyd-Rautha to know that he is fully captivated by your performance, at the sight of your naked form. In any other situation you might’ve been ashamed of your nudity; the curves you found unseemly, or the dimples of cellulite in the soft flesh of your thighs and ass.

But, beholden by the na-Baron, you were resplendent.

“The dress now, please,” you order Asha, voice breezy and carefree.

Feyd-Rautha’s gaze bores into you, sears your skin like its own personal brand. You loathe to admit that you’re actually enjoying this. Your thighs are slick with revel in your own cleverness, in wresting the control from the man determined to wield it over you.

Asha covers you with the dress, laying it gently over you — nipples hardened and skin flushed with self-admiration, in satisfaction of capturing Feyd-Rautha’s attention so wholly.

Asha moves to fasten the belt next but is interrupted. “Let me,” the na-Baron orders.

Which unspoken, is understood as: leave us. Your friend ducks her head and disappears from the antechamber. You silently thank her for closing the door behind her.

Feyd-Rautha approaches you slowly, measured in his movements. A predator reconsidering its prey.

So then why are you so eager for him to devour you?

He stands infuriatingly close to you without actually touching you, absurdly concerned with the so-called belt hanging at your waist. It vexes you that he refuses to meet your eyes, refuses to give you what you so ardently seek.

“I should strip this from you. Tear this dress from you with my teeth and bind your wrists,” he says, tugging at the belt, agonizingly composed, his breath fanning your face. “Show you exactly what you deserve for pulling a stunt like that.”

His fingers are deft as they fasten the belt. He doesn’t touch you once.

“Did you not like it?” You ask, breathless.

His proximity intoxicates you, takes you by the hand and leads you into a fathomless darkness. And yet he won’t look at you, won’t touch you, just turns simply on his heel of his boot and says over his shoulder, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

The smoldering shower water blasts between the blades of your shoulders, sluices over you and scathes your aching flesh. But it’s not enough, not a fit replacement for touch, for his touch.

Your fingers slip between your thighs and find your pleading cunt. A breathy noise escapes you, and you begin pumping your hand, no time for the attention you usually afford yourself — you’re desperate to rid yourself of this feeling, wash it away in the drain and pretend it never existed. Your release comes fast, insipid, and once your legs have stopped shaking with the effort of your touch, you wrench off the water.

And there you stand, cold and wet, cunt swollen and certainly not satisfied, but at least you can direct your thoughts from —

You slam your fist against the shower wall. Pain, leftover from Feyd-Rautha’s boot, quivers through you like a bow across the string of an instrument. How dare you let yourself become so entangled in him, in his game, in his inescapable command. You are a fool.

Quickly you towel yourself off and step back into the sorry excuse for a dress, warding off any traitorous thoughts belonging to Feyd-Rautha. You have no clue when dinner actually is but you won’t be caught shivering and spent. You apply a simple, dark makeup and leave your hair untouched, determined to set yourself separate from the rest of the Harkonnens in attendance.

And when the scents of food and the clatter of guests float through the antechamber, you take it upon yourself to join the others. You follow the din of a party, a sound you are accustomed to from your time on Caladan, and traipse into the Great Hall to find it already engaged.

The long table usually void of company is brimming with noblemen and women dressed in various shades of blacks and whites, and every single one of them turns and stares at your entrance.

Not even the strictest training can prevent the flood of embarrassment through you. It’s so prominent and all-encompassing that your entire body goes rigid with fear.

“Ah, the Lady Y/N,” a booming voice calls. “How lovely of you to join us at last.”

At the opposite end of the impossibly long Hall, the Baron lifts from the table on his suspensors and effectively stamps out any fleeting hope you had of going quietly into the night. Or perhaps dying on the spot. He hadn’t given you enough time to decide which.

“Come, take your place at my side so that you might meet your court and feast with them on this splendid occasion,” the Baron says.

Surprisingly, your limbs do work, and you somehow carry yourself past the leering eyes in your scanty dress and sit upon the only empty chair at the table. If you weren’t so completely mortified, you might’ve taken the time to glare daggers at the man beside you; Feyd-Rautha lounged regally at the right hand of the Baron. To your utter displeasure, he looked disgustingly wonderful in a dark tunic and pants, his lips reddened by the wine.

It looked a lot like blood.

“I apologize, your Baron, I had no intentions of causing a scene or demeaning your gracious invitation.”

The Baron eats in a ferocious manner best likened to a savage beast, wild and without abandon. Repulsion churns in your belly as you are forced to watch, doing your best to mask your horror as he gulps down his food in large, greedy mouthfuls. A smudge of sauce graces the corner of his unsightly mouth.

“There is no need for apologies, Lady Y/N, as long as it does not happen twice. No court is ever won over by a careless Baroness,” he says icily.

“Where were you?” Rabban asks next.

Rabban sits to the left of the Baron and across from you, fixing you with a glowering look. It’s not lost on you that he is already tormented by this, demoted to the less favorable side of the table in favor for his wicked brother, who replicates Rabban’s probing glare, no traces of awareness that he had been the exact reason for your tardiness.

“We met initially in the salon to give you time to appear. Tell us, where were you, wife? What demands did you have grander than this celebration of our upcoming union?”

Your molars might grind into dust by the end of the evening, if you survive it. You smile sweetly at him. “I suppose I was preoccupied with preparations, na-Baron. Your…gift is not easy to slip into alone.”

“However taxing, you look splendid,” the Baron says. He drains the rest of his goblet. One massive hand descends on Feyd-Rautha’s thigh, strangely intimate. “Nephew, will you fetch me more wine?”

Feyd-Rautha’s face storms over. “We have servants for that, Uncle. Besides, have Rabban do it for you. This banquet is for my benefit, after all, I should be allowed to enjoy it.”

The Baron studies him critically then, more sober than you thought possible. “Very well. Rabban?”

The mountainous man snatches the goblet from his uncle and vanishes to find a servant. You’re prompted to heap some of the food on your plate then, disconcerted by the lingering hand of the Baron and Feyd-Rautha’s obvious resentment.

Dinner passes without a hitch, your tardiness smoothed over by your status as the future Baroness. A small grace for such a tremendous burden.

You entertain the guests with stories of Arrakis and spice production, fielding their endless questions with as much charm and elegance as you can muster. And, frankly, it’s not as horribly daunting or tedious as you feared it to be.

The last course is coming to an end when a man strides up to the Baron with an expression of self-importance. He’s dressed similarly to the other Harkonnen guards but there’s something different about him — where the Harkonnens you know are arrogant about their strength, he hides it well. You immediately start to eavesdrop.

“The Emperor needs you for an urgent matter,” the strange man whispers into the Baron’s ear.

The Baron nods as if he’s been expecting this, and then without a word abandons his feast and glides after the man.

Feyd-Rautha had been surveying the party when you ask him, “What urgent matter?”

He sips his wine. “I don’t know.”

Ha, you think, he had been eavesdropping too. You frown. “He didn’t tell you?”

“My uncle does not tell me everything,” Feyd-Rautha replies. There’s a trace of anger in his voice, but it’s difficult to tell whether it’s pointed at you or the Baron.

Either way, this irritates you. You decide to provoke the beast. “What, like you don’t tell me when our engagement dinner is?”

Feyd-Rautha’s gaze cuts to you. “You’re upset.”

“Yes I’m upset,” you hiss. “I thought I warned you not to humiliate me again. Tonight was inexcusable, you filthy —”

“Ah, careful, wife. You must mind your words before our court. And my oafish brother.” He indicates Rabban with a slight incline of his head. You spot the older Harkonnen approaching with quite the entourage and you scowl. “Don’t make that face. Remember, this is a joyous occasion.”

“How could I forget?” You mutter miserably.

At your side, Feyd-Rautha is a study in beauty. Not in the classical sense, of course, but that of something devastatingly cruel and dangerous, the glint of a newly sharpened blade or the ocean during a storm. Breathtaking, in both senses. Unwittingly, you trace the slope of his brow, his handsome nose, the cushion of his plush lips, and you feel the familiar flicker of attraction.

“Where were you?” Feyd-Rautha asks without looking at you, still watching the party.

“Hm?” Did he know you were studying him? “What did you say?”

“I asked where you were. Before.”

“Oh.” There’s something in his voice that suggests that he knows exactly what you were doing. Your moment in the shower emerges unbidden in your mind, of your hand between your legs and his name in your mouth. You answer as flippant as possible, “I was waiting for you.”

Feyd-Rautha finally sets down his goblet. Rabban is taking his time returning, regaling his entourage with an undoubtedly riveting story, so the na-Baron must feel secure in your privacy.

“You forget that those are my quarters too, wife, and the walls are very thin.”

Shame creeps up your throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, is that right?” Feyd-Rautha grabs the bottom of your chair and pulls you closer to him. Any outside observer would simply think you’re having a regular conversation, which you suppose is the point, but there’s nothing regular about the way he slides his hand across your thigh and dips down to your heat. “Then I didn’t hear you touching yourself, whimpering and pleading for me? For my fingers? My cock?”

“I thought I was —”

“Alone?” He clicks his tongue. “If you didn’t intend for me to hear, then should I not give you exactly what you were begging for?”

It’s only too easy for him to nudge your dress aside and acquaint himself with your cunt, slide his fingers along your swollen lips and tease your entrance. You inhale sharply, without permission. He takes that as an invitation to delve a finger into your slick cunt.

“Feyd —”

“Tell me you don’t want it.”

You swallow, throat working. Rabban is finishing his story, evident by his boisterous laugh and then beckoning his entourage to the table. Feyd-Rautha keeps one finger inside you, unmoving, a sensation unfolding within you that you certainly won’t be able to ignore.

The rest of his hand cups between your thighs, a reminder to you, as long as you yield to him.

“Just say the words, and I won’t,” Feyd-Rautha says, his lips on the shell of your ear.

You’re frozen in indecision. When Rabban rejoins you, you’re sure that Feyd-Rautha will revoke his teasing hand. But instead he rocks his palm against you and drives his finger, then another, deeper inside you with dizzying ferocity.

You grip the edges of the chair, the force of his fingers cleaving through you, invoking a wave of pleasure that ripples throughout your body. It takes everything in you not to cry out.

“Brother, you remember my friends,” Rabban says. His cheeks are reddened by the spice-laden alcohol and he is oblivious to what’s occurring underneath the table. “Uriens and Ze’ev.”

Feyd-Rautha says smoothly, “Of course.”

“Uriens, Ze’ev, this is the Lady Y/N,” Rabban introduces you. He indicates each friend in turn — Uriens, a man of notable stature but a blank gaze, and Ze’ev, slightly smaller and sporting a sneer.

You dip your head and hope it’s enough to count as a greeting. You don’t trust your voice, not with Feyd-Rautha’s ministrations. Your cunt pulses with each one, clamping down on him, even the slightest of withdrawals enough to ruin you. Fortunately for you, or not, Feyd-Rautha shows no interest in stopping, curling his fingers in and out of you with agonizing precision.

“We wanted to speak to you about tomorrow, actually,” Uriens says.

Feyd-Rautha’s eyes narrow. “What about it?”

“What —oh! What’s tomorrow?” You ask. As soon as you speak, Feyd-Rautha pushes another finger in to join the others, spurring your body to jerk in response. You suppress a shudder.

Uriens, Ze’ev, and Rabban look too intent to notice your falter. Uriens explains, albeit with less enthusiasm, “We want to partake.”

Feyd-Rautha’s jaw flexes. His pace slows as he considers this request, and it’s almost more torturous than his persistent thrusts.

“No,” he finally says.

Rabban’s face darkens with anger. “Why not?”

“Traditionally those who partake do so because they are interested in the hand of the wife.” His tone veers dangerously close to a growl. “Are you telling me that you wish to take her from me?”

Uriens eyes widen. “No, na-Baron, we —”

“We understand the ceremony is purely customary. We ask only for a chance to partake in the revelry,” Ze’ev cuts in.

“There is no killing,” Feyd-Rautha says.

Uriens and Ze’ev nod. “Yes, na-Baron.”

“Then I don’t see why you shouldn’t partake.”

You bite back a moan as Feyd-Rautha then resumes his ministrations. You ask, “What’s tomorrow?”

You’re impressed that you manage to keep your voice even.

The Harkonnens exchange glances as if they’re reluctant to answer you. The slight one, Ze’ev, says, “Dessid aperr. The Crucible.”

“It doesn’t concern you,” Feyd-Rautha says.

Your indignation overcomes your pleasure, and you glare at him. “It does if my hand in marriage is being fought over.”

“The Crucible is a ceremony dating back to Emperor Shakkad the Wise,” Uriens eagerly says, jumping to please you. “When a Harkonnnen of noble standing is to be wed, they will engage in a battle against the other noblemen for the hand of the bride. To ensure that the strongest bonds are forged.”

Feyd-Rautha pumps his hand violently against you, and you feel your orgasm building. You grip the chair even harder. “I would like to partake.”

“The brides are not permitted to watch,” Uriens says. Rabban and Ze’ev both glare at him.

“I don’t want to watch. I want to fight.”

“Absolutely not,” Feyd-Rautha rasps.

“Why not?” You ask. You hope the breathy sound of your voice comes across as petulant and not aroused.

Rabban answers, “That’s how it’s always been.”

Feyd-Rautha glances at you. He must know that you’re close, can feel it in the way that you clamp around him. “Wife, is that what you want? Tell me.”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer.

He says, “Tell me that you want it.”

“I want it,” you breathe out, both of you aware of what he’s actually referencing.

More words form on your tongue but you’re unable to say it — your pleasure mounts as Feyd-Rautha buries his fingers inside you with swift finality and your orgasm seizes you. It’s white-hot and dazzling as it tears through you, walls contracting, his fingers stroking you to the end. A shudder racks through you.

Pulse hammering and your thighs trembling, Feyd-Rautha withdraws his fingers. He rises abruptly to his feet. Horror dawns on you as he then pushes his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean. Without so much as glancing back at you, Feyd-Rautha says, “Very well. Don’t be late this time.”

You stare after him. The aftershocks of your orgasm rumble through you — you can’t believe that he just did that then left you to deal with the aftermath. Uriens and Ze’ev stare at you in equal parts confusion and shock, while Rabban sneers at you, seemingly more aware than you thought.

You clear your throat. “Well, that’s been settled.”

“Something has been settled,” Rabban replies. His expression is nearly impossible to read, but the comment makes your cheeks heat up.

“You hold considerable sway over the na-Baron,” Ze’ev says.

You stand, smoothing down your dress and trying to maintain some semblance of composure. It’s difficult when your thighs are still slick, the memory of his fingers imprinted in your mind.

“I will be the na-Baroness,” you remind Ze’ev. “I hold considerable sway over everyone here.”

And with that you leave without excusing yourself, feeling the burn of their gazes on your back. It’s suddenly too warm in the Great Hall for you, the sweaty, lingering bodies suffocating. You’re not quite sure where you’re going. Certainly not after Feyd-Rautha. Though you can’t stop the way that your heart skips hopefully when you feel a hand grab your arm.

“What are you doing?” Asha hisses, spinning you around. “The party isn’t over.”

Post-orgasm clarity is eluding you. You shake your head. “I know, but —”

“Also, what was that shit earlier?” Asha asks. She adjusts her hold on a tray laden with champagne glasses. “There was some weird tension in that room. Don’t involve me in your weird — whatever, with the na-Baron again. Do you hear me?”

You nod stupidly, although you’re not entirely sure it’s a promise you can make.

Asha studies you. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lie. “But I’m going to retire to my quarters. Can you cover for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Asha says, obviously not convinced.

You huff out a breath. “I’m going to need the rest if I’m participating in the Crucible tomorrow.”

Asha nearly drops the serving tray. “The what?”

“I’ve been invited,” you say, which is also a lie.

“What?” Asha presses the heel of her hand to her forehead. “What is wrong with you, Y/N?”

To avoid her gaze, you take to scanning the party. You know perfectly well what’s wrong with you and you’re searching for his face even now, despite the fact that he’s the last person you want to see. You sigh. “I wish I could tell you.”

Part 5

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123

#dune #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #fanfic writing #writers on tumblr #writing #fanfic #feyd smut

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aeomianamoure · 3 days

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— emo beomgyu being your pervy loser bestfriend to boyfriend!

warnings <3: !loser beomgyu, bestfriends to lovers!, reader is a crybaby, !reader is sweet and pretty but still a loser unfortunately, beomgyu and reader like eachother but beomgyu likes reader more than reader likes beomgyu (as it should be for any relationship between a man and a woman) , insecure reader who has low self esteem if you squint, beomgyu corrupts reader a bit, use of pet names! , smut !! (reader n beomgyu receiving and giving) , faint ddlg !! ,, fluff fluff fluff !! <333 ,, comforting n reassuring beomgyu who loves reader :( !! ,, dom gyu subby femmy reader !!

a/n <3: beomgyu suits this concept so bad idk.. i love oreo emo gyu </3 >:( enjoy ^^

beomgyu was ecstatic; he had recently gotten himself a purple skateboard and just couldn’t wait to show you. he desperately needed one ever since he broke his bicycle in two pieces which you still didn’t know why or how that happened but you really didn’t wanna ask much less know

beomgyu was headed to your house, ready to show you his newly prized possession but he needed to do something first. grabbing a box cutter; the obvious manic emo boy craved your initials onto the back of his skateboard leaving a ‘y/n<3’ on the lower left side it wasn’t that noticeable to where you would notice it but he knew exactly where to find that mark

with a satisfied cheeky grin beomgyu marched to your house riding his skateboard of course before placing his black over the ear headphones on blasting bulls in the bronx by pierce the veil, his favorite artists. yet making sure not to fall on his back again, seeing how much you’d cry if he came to you with cuts on his fingers and face again

“beomgyu!” you squeal quietly in delight seeing your bestfriend aka your only friend climb through your window for the nth time with a big smile on your face

“hey baby” beomgyu mutters grinning back at you showing off his dimple making you flush cherry red; another thing that was going on between you two was that you both were crushing on eachother

you being a total ditz though, you didn’t really catch on to beomgyu’s liking towards to you. you always just thought he was really sweet and you also had low self esteem so it was hard to accept that anyone could possibly like you especially someone as special and attractive as beomgyu

you still couldn’t believe that beomgyu was considered a loser, he seemed way too cool and attractive to be one but after being his bestfriend for years you’d realized why he was one.

beomgyu never really spoke to anyone unless it was to say mean things to them especially if somebody was messing with you

beomgyu always carried an angry look on his face only letting his eyes soften for you of course; beomgyu really lacked common social skills and had anger issues

but still you refused to believe beomgyu actually liked you

even after that time he went down on you

“beomgyu?” you’d squeak in fear as you sense your baby pink pajama short shorts being taken off of you as you try to watch blue spring ride with beomgyu

“shhh it’s just me baby relax” you hear beomgyu calming you down and you couldn’t lie you enjoyed every minute of whatever was going on

your breath hitches as your whimpers grew more high pitched while you cling onto your teddy bear beomgyu gifted you for your birthday last year watching your bestfriend desperate eat your pussy as if your were his last meal through your teary hooded eyes. the only thing that could be heard was your cries of over stimulation and faint slurping sounds coming from beomgyu’s mouth

“b-beomgyu..” you’d only whine sensing a burning sensation growing at the pit of your stomach as the aforementioned boy continued to lap his tongue in and out of your gummy walls aggressively

you felt beomgyu snicker against your clit as he looks up at you with a faint smirk; “what is it babydoll? you wanna cum already? gonna cum on my tongue again?”

you two never really spoke much of about that night, since every time beomgyu tried bringing it up you’d start to cry out of embarrassment not really liking beomgyu’s teasing since you took it very seriously

weeks went by since that night, and let’s just say you and beomgyu were getting closer and closer as more time went by.

“like this?” you’d tilt your head staring up at your bestfriend as you gently took his cock in your mouth or at least tried to you never exactly given anyone head before

“yes- fuck c’mere” beomgyu wanted to take control not feeling patient enough to guide you through sucking him off he gently started to move your head back and forth on his length

“gonna be a good little girl and let me fuck your mouth right?” beomgyu hissed at your soft gurgles as you nod rapidly not really understanding how this made him feel good because it’s not like you were doing the work

“beomgyu?” you’d call out to your bestfriend as you watched him paint his nails jet black; “yes princess?” he’s not looking at you instead he’s blowing air on his nails but you knew he was paying attention to you

you felt tears forming in your eyes as you grew nervous of what you’re about to ask; “do you like me? and i don’t mean like just as bestfriends i mean like do you like me enough to be my boyfriend?” you were trying your best to not cry at the thought of rejection

beomgyu senses you’re about to cry and he immediately looks at you worried; “c’mere” the oreo haired boy cradles you onto his lap as he rubbed your back shushing your cries

“i don’t like you i love you you hear me? i love everything about you, your crybaby tendencies, and your pretty face and it would be a dream come true to be your boyfriend if you let me” beomgyu reassured you making you sniffle with a smile as you rapidly nod followed with a ‘i love you too beomgyu!’

a/n <3: that song espresso by sabrina carpenter is stuck in my headdd it’s so catchy

#angelina’s garden ♡!#coquette #emo boyfriend #emo x coquette #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt #txt headcanons #txt reactions #txt smut #txt beomgyu #txt imagines #txt oneshots

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xianyoon · 2 months

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body & soul.

alhaitham x gn!reader. inspired off that pride & prejudice scene. 0.7k words.

the dense morning fog is quite the sight to see, you think to yourself, trudging through the grounds of the estate. you barely make out anything apart from the white fence that had been your guiding light for the past quarter hour, muddied boots making embedded footprints in the steps you take. it is frighteningly cold, but there seems to be a particular kind of coldness within you this sombre morning. it feels almost–

empty.

as if you soul was longing for something. you know very well what it misses, but how is it that you can miss something– no, someone, so dearly – if they had never been yours at all? he was never yours, he could never be; although you wished quite the opposite. as if you'd ever make those intentions known to him.

speak of the devil, alhaitham. you could vaguely make out his broad silhouette, shadows in the fog becoming larger as he walked towards you. your boots seemed to refuse to move – frozen in the very presence of this man. alhaitham now stood before you, his towering stance seemingly softening at the sight of how cold you were.

the unspoken question hung in the air as he stared at you, not unkindly. why were you out here, at such an unfathomable time of the morning?

”i couldn't sleep.” you exhale. the air feels a little colder, an obvious sign of the coolness the two of you shared.

“nor i.” he lets a small smile grace his features before taking a quiet breath. ”my aunt–”

”yes, she was here.” you nod. there was no need for trivialities.

the silence seems to only amplify after your four words, slowly filling in the crevices of the conversation – until alhaitham steps forward.

“how can i ever make amends for such behaviour?” he whispers, addressing the elephant in the room. a brave step – one you couldn’t have bore to take. what amends, alhaitham? how do you dare to speak of amends you could make when you have done nothing wrong in my eyes?

“after what you've done for kaveh, and i suspect, for nahida also, it is i who should be making amends.” you look back up at him, almost uncertainly. you wonder if you should revert your gaze back to the earth.

you see him sigh softly. gather yourself together, alhaitham is something you can glimpse at, by the weary look on his face.

“you must know, surely you must know, it was all for you. you are too generous to trifle with me. i believe you spoke with my aunt last night and it has taught me to hope as i’d scarcely allowed myself before.”

hot, salty tears gather, threatening to spill over. please, don’t you dare to betray me. you've betrayed me once.

“if your feelings are still what they were last april, tell me so at once.” alhaitham continues. he straightens his back, looking at you straight on now. he looks … glowingly different. almost empowered. “my affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever, i promise.”

no, alhaitham – how foolish it would be to think that it would have changed. do you not see it? how the light returns to me the second i hear you speak, how i stop to listen to you even when my soul remains obstinate – my affections will never allow themselves to be changed, they belong to you, and you alone.

“if however, your feelings have changed – i would have to tell you, you have bewitched me body and soul, and i love... i love...”

”i love you.”

oh.

“i never wish to be parted from you from this day on.”

oh, alhaitham. there is no doubt about it now – salty tears have won their freedom, flowing down your cheeks only to be caught and thumbed away by his hands. he holds you so gently; do you deserve this kindness, little bird? do you deserve to be held so dearly?

you look at the spark of light in his eyes – it is warm, inviting, loving. he loves you. there is no doubting it anymore. you whisper those three special words into his chest, burying your head into him when you feel him nod and rest his head atop yours in acknowledgement. he feels ... safe.

i love you.

“well, then. your hands are cold.” you chuckle wetly, holding his hands tightly in yours. and maybe, just maybe –

he squeezes your hand back tighter.

"it's quite alright. i trust that your touch is enough to warm them."

#long post #― latest brew.#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham fluff #pride and prejudice #genshin drabbles #genshin fluff #astronetwrk

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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year

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Immortal Cop Danny P.2

Part 1

So, we have seen my scenario where Danny is revealed as an Immortal Cop really late in the Timeline, like nearly the entire Batfamily has already been formed kinds of late.

But what about a world where Danny has been on the Force since Batman Year 1?

Officer/Detective Nightingale has been one of the best and most loyal members of the GCPD for well over 3 decades. He didn't hide his "Meta Ability" when he first joined the force, since Gotham hadn't been introduced to all of their Superpowered Rouges yet, and the attitude for Metas in Gotham was nowhere near as harsh as it would be in the future.

He was one of the Go-To Cops in the early days of the Batman, since he had proven to be trustworthy and most people felt comfortable talking to him. Most of the community respected him, although some saw his power of Immortality as unnatural or freakish.

Batman met Officer Danny on one of his earliest cases. Danny pushed him out of the way of a Bullet and saved his life, getting shot in the process.

Bruce will never forget when Danny reached into the hole on his side and pulled the bullet out with his fingers. He didn't even flinch.

Danny has also been one of Commissioner Gordon's best friends and closest confidants for years. He was even offered the job of Commissioner once due to his extensive experience on the Force, but refused since he knew Gotham would never accept a Meta Commissioner, or maybe because he believed that he wasn't the right fit for the job.

Dick remembers the time when Officer Nightingale found out about Robin's age. He will always think of Danny laying into Bruce for bringing in such a young kid as one of his fondest memories.

Gordon remembers being invited to dinner with Danny's mom, a nice if cryptic lady dressed in gothic clothes who thanked him for all the work he did for the city, and for keeping her streets as safe as possible. Apparently she did the same for Batman, who had gone to Danny's apartment for some information and left with a full belly and plenty of leftovers.

He was basically the best Cop you could ask for. Calm, kind, honest, understanding, and he genuinely seemed to be trying to help the people around him.

Barbra calls him Uncle Danny, and he was there to help her adjust when she lost use of her legs.

Commissioner Gordon thinks of Danny as his best Cop/Friend, unflappable and loyal to a fault.

Bruce thinks of him as one of his more trusted allies, on the same level as Commissioner Gordon even.

Robin called him "Cool Cop D". Later, he was one of the reasons Dick decided to become a Police Officer.

Hell, even Damian commended the man's resolve to help the City, which was considered a monumental feat at the time.

Which is why it was such a shock when Danny disappeared.

He just didn't show up for work one day. This in and of itself wasn't too out of the ordinary, but he usually called in to tell them he was gonna miss a day. They thought it was just because he was so anxious lately, jumping at the little things like a guy bumping into him or asking to leave room at the mention of Autopsies

Then he missed the next day. Not that bad, I mean he had been really stressed out recently. Maybe he just needed an extra day, to work off the stress? Nobody was really worried anything had happened to him, he was immortal after all, but they were still concerned.

Then he missed a third day. This was far more concerning. The last time this happened, Danny had been found passed out in his apartment because he hadn't slept in days and hadn't eaten in weeks (what's the point if he won't die either way?).

He had been put on medical leave for a month after that.

So one of the guys decided to visit his house, just to see if he needed some help.

They find the apartment empty. No evidence that he ever lived there. It was like the entire place had been scrubbed clean of anything that even hinted at his existence, and whoever had done it obviously wanted to cover their tracks.

So, an investigation is launched.

And almost instantly, the Feds take the Case from the GCPD and declare Danny as dead a week later.

Seems they forgot to take a look at his Resume...

So Gordon takes this to Bats, who immediately starts investigating the Feds in White who showed up to steal the case.

...

Tag List:

@overtherose @kyrianclawraith @ghostreblogging @the-autistic-spider @just-rant-and-write-fic-idea

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inthefallofasparrow · 1 month

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Attention:

In light of recent unfortunate events in Sectors 17 - 19, the NCD has had several requests for transfer from the Mining Division of the Digging Corps to the Surface Division. I am sure you can all understand that we cannot recommend nor indeed allow transfer to the surface at this time or in fact ever.

For those of you too young to know the history of the Digging Corps, it began its existence many decades ago as part of what was colloquially termed 'The Digging Project'. Simply put, the goal of the project was to dig up the first three feet of soil from the entire state of Nevada. The purpose of this endeavor has long since been lost to us, but given the ever-rising temperatures and general ecological and economic turmoil we have witnessed over the last century, it's reasonable to assume the project was proposed in response to that and as a solution to mass unemployment.

At that time the project was undertaken by what was termed the 'Civilian Excavation Corp', which oversaw the organization and dispatch of shovelmen to various locations across Nevada. Their central hub located outside Ely, NV would later become known simply as Nevada Central Dispatch and was run by a man named Former Lieut. General Obadiah M. Delmar. His grandchildren were also heavily involved in the Digging Project, and before long it became tradition for all Delmars to spend time in its ranks.

As you can imagine, such a monumental task became harder and harder as the temperature rose, but a specific quota for soil needed to be met each day by government mandate. Many former residents of Nevada had refused to leave their homes and so work often ceased for weeks due to rioting and clashes with those now trespassing on the evacuation zone. The only way to continue meeting the daily quota when progress stalled was to continue digging downwards past the three foot limit. Soon, many shovelmen began volunteering for tunneling detail as a way to spend the day staying cool and out of the blistering sun. Over time the mining units became their own separate division from the rest, rejecting the futility of the initial Digging Project, but recognising the stable employment a bucket of dirt could provide. So long as quotas continued to be met, the government didn't seem to care, and so the digging continued ever downward.

Then as now, communication with the outside world was strictly forbidden for members of the Digging Corps, so contact with the Surface Division has also long since been severed. We have every reason to believe they do still operate however, presumably now toiling in full-body proximity suits made of high temperature protective material, but we cannot in good conscience, allow the transfer of our loyal shovelmen to such an untenable and hostile environment, and any attempt at contacting the surface will result in immediate termination.

Thank you to @riverpiracy for providing archival images and information previously assumed lost.

Many hands make light work.

#digging corps #dustpost #unreality #long post

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rawliverandgoronspice · 1 year

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THE GERUDO POST

(aka an attempt at a critique of how gerudos were handled in BotW and before)

Oh no. TOTK being right around the corner, it might finally be time for the Gerudo Post.

(aka half of the reason why I made a Zelda sideblog in the first place)

So I want to preface all of this by saying that, as you could probably tell already, I’ve always adored the gerudos. They have fascinated my small child brain when I was 7; then the obsession made its comeback when I was 14, and now, here we are, almost 28, and I’m still thinking about the gerudos. I think they might be among my favorite fictional cultures for their potential and their understated storyline. I guess growing up in a very Arabic neighborhood, coupled with being bi-culturally latinx (?? does Brazil count?? you tell me), also always made them feel like home to me –especially when I was very young and there was not a lot of cool female representation flying around that managed to involve fiercely independent PoC women, flaws and teeth included.

This whole weird-essay-thing tries to do two things. First: analyze the place gerudos have occupied in the series, their initial problematisms and their subtextual narrative arc during the Myth Era coupled with their relationship to Ganondorf. Second: tiptoe to Breath of the Wild and poke it with a stick to see what happens –and in doing that, explain why I believe a lot of their characterization was defanged in service of smoothing their past with the hylians instead of deepening the culture on its own terms, and why I’m a little apprehensive about what that might mean for TotK even though I adore seeing the best girls at it again.

Those are the uhh terms of service??

And now, we must go back to 1998.

OCARINA OF TIME ERA

There’s so many things about the gerudos that are noteworthy and rich, and they’ve made for a complex piece of Zelda lore ever since their introduction –and when I say complex, I don’t 100% mean it as praise. The very racially charged decisions made about their inclusion have been discussed at length by the fandom, especially when it comes to orientalist and Islamophobic tropes being deployed pretty thoughtlessly in Ocarina of Time (their sigil being literally a crescent moon and star originally, the parallels are pretty obviously there).

We’re talking about a band of amazon-like, big-nosed brown women from the desert ruled by a single Scary Evil Man born once every hundred years hellbent on conquering Hyrule who they apparently worship like a god, characterized primarily as thieves, decked in jewelry and orientalist-inspired harem/belly-dancing clothing, hostile to the white good guys of Hyrule (especially men), unblessed by the Goddesses and so deprived of elongated ears (this is true for OoT –we’ll come back to that), also known as a demon tribe with their deity straight-out described as evil-looking by Navi (on my way to cancel you on twitter Navi you watch out), and secretly led by evil twin witches who can turn into a single seductress and, as two mothers, raised their Scary Evil Guy king who happens to basically be the devil.

In so few words, gerudos are the future that liberals want.

It’s worth notice, also, that Ganondorf’s characterization in this game is… kind of relentlessly uncomfortable to play through, especially before the 7 year skip. The utter assumption of depraved and evil intents from every character surrounded by dialogue that does little to hide its biases in spite of having generally very little proof to back them up –even though, in the game’s context, every character is correct to call his eyes evil and the darkness of his skin a moral judgment in on itself. The scene where Zelda demands that we believe her conclusion that the sole and only brown guy in the entire kingdom is evil and will do harm, and the game straight out refuses to progress until we concede that her dreams are prophetic and that this man must be stopped at any cost even though she has no more proof than her discomfort… hits different on replay.

I’m restating all of this not to pretend I’m making a novel and thought-provoking point, but to bounce back on a tumblr post I saw a while back (that I can’t find anymore!! I’ll link it if I find it again) –and so express what it is that gripped me with the gerudos in spite of their pretty damning depiction… and actually maybe thanks to it.

There’s a surprising amount of texture to Ocarina of Time’s worldbuilding that exists folded within the things introduced and left hanging, or in its subtext –and whether on purpose or not, I believe it is why people keep coming back to this iteration of Hyrule.

What was that about the king of Hyrule unifying a war-torn country? Why did the gerudos break the bridge connecting them to the rest of the kingdom during the 7 year timeskip while still worshiping Ganondorf, and why are the carpenters trying to rebuild it against their apparent wishes? What was that about gerudos imprisoning hylian men trying to force entry into their lands? What was that about the secret death torture chambers right next to the Royal Family’s tomb and connected to the race of people who were, apparently, born to serve them?

Nothing? Oh okay… okay… okay….

The same can be said about this strange depiction of this hostile tribe, consistently described as wicked yet suddenly friendly once you prove you deserve their respect once you... defeat them, so you now have joined them? Ocarina of Time isn’t very consistent when it comes to characterizing them as their occupation (thieves) or as a proper culture, with a king and a strange system of rulership that seem to involve at least 5 people: Ganondorf, the Twinrova, Nabooru and the unnamed random woman who decides you’re now part of the gerudos because you slashed enough of them with your sword and hookshot, which, uhh ok.

They’re but a ragtag and negligible group when discussed next to gorons and zoras and hylians, but they also clearly have their own religion and at least a 400-hundred years old history (probably far longer than this) and hints of a written language of their own. I’m not sure the game itself knows what it wants them to be, beyond: intimidating and hot and cool, but also wicked and, because of Ganondorf and the way you barge in their forbidden fortress (heh) with the explicit intent to dismantle their king, in apparent need to be saved from themselves.

Speaking of rulership and the Spirit Temple, let’s have a quick tangent about Nabooru: I always found her characterization when meeting with Child Link pretty strange. I refuse to mention the promised reward, which feeds into everything orientalist mentioned above, but I always found her moral compass so extremely convoluted for someone coming from gerudo culture. Nabooru says that, despite being a cool thief herself, she resents Ganondorf for killing people as well as stealing from women and children. Stealing... from women. Nabooru. Why are you this pressed that he steals from women!!! This feels so out of place, that the only girl of that hostile culture that betrays her king and befriends you, is the one that upholds moral values that only a hylian could possibly hold.

Either way: the strange unquestioned contempt of the game for them as a culture, mixed with the occasional bouts of heart, friendliness and badassery, makes it hard not to consider their depiction as pretty biased in favor of the hylians finding them at once exotic, scary and exciting, and could hide a more complex reality you might only get one side of –especially when you know there were originally plans for Ganondorf’s character to be more gray and motivated than what the campy final version ended up being. To be blunt: even in the context of a game for children, and maybe because of that fact, it all reads like a reductionist and imperialist/colonialist reading of a more complex situation.

This might seem like A Lot coming from a game where the actual game writing can be this overall flimsy and simplistic due to the standards of the time (it’s rough, it's so rough). But I would have never dwelt on that thought about a little children’s game if not for the mainline entries that came soon after, because... ooo boy.

The sense you’re not getting the whole story was certainly not helped by the introduction of Wind Waker Ganondorf, and the chilling emptiness of Gerudo Desert in Twilight Princess.

AFTER THE TIMELINE SPLIT

(I’m skipping Majora’s Mask, not because I dislike them in the game or think they’re not worth talking about, but because it’s a parallel universe and they’re never even called gerudos and their reality seems extremely different from their sisters in Hyrule so I think it’s okay to call them tangential and not dive too deep in this particular depiction)

Here’s something I want to highlight about gerudos and how they were characterized before BotW came along: their absence. Not only their physical absence, the lack of any gerudo character that calls themselves gerudo, but their absence from the text itself.

It’s not that Wind Waker and Twilight Princess retroactively scratch them off existence: we can clearly see Nabooru’s stained glass art in WW as well as recognize them being mentioned in Ganondorf’s final boss soliloquy, and WELL there’s quite a lot to say about their imprint over the world of TP. They are there –or at least they... were there. But nobody ever talks about what happened.

In Wind Waker, there was the deluge. It’s assumed lots of people died then, and those who survived scattered across the Great Sea. Are they sealed under the waves? Have they drowned? Is Jolene, Linebeck’s ex-girlfriend in Phantom Hourglass, a distant relative of one of the rare survivors? It’s unclear, beyond the fact that Ganondorf is the only living gerudo we see in this entire branch of the Timeline split.

In Twilight Princess, the desert which bares their name is empty. The hylians never mention that it used to be the name of a tribe: they’re not even named when Ganondorf is introduced for the first time, reduced once again to a mere band of thieves. We learn his plans to steal the Triforce in OoT were foiled, and that he may have turned to war. Then he lost the war, and was executed in Arbiter’s Ground: a strange structure in the desert, a mixture between a temple, a prison and a coliseum. What looks like gerudo writing coexists with hylian symbols, which often look much fresher. This dungeon is the Shadow Temple of TP: a prison hosting the worst criminals the kingdom has ever known, now haunted and cursed. Besides the locations, the only character that vaguely look gerudo in the entire game besides Ganondorf is Telma, a character with pointed ears that never seems to identify as anything but a hylian. What happened? Who’s to say. Nobody ever says anything. Not even Ganondorf bothers to mention them the way he did in WW –and though the game’s story is quite focused on another exiled tribe seeking revenge and dominion over Hyrule as retribution, the parallel is never explicitly drawn. So who’s to say what happened there. Who’s to say.

And in A Link to the Past and the games forward? The only mention of other gerudo characters are Koume and Kotake, resurrecting their son in the Oracles games through their own sacrifice and failing to bring anything back but a monstrosity incapable of making conscious decisions. Granted, most games in that extremely weird Fallen Timeline predate OoT and therefore had yet to make gerudos up at all. Still: canonically, between the gap of OoT and ALLTP, whatever it may be, gerudos disappeared here as well.

I think there’s something subtle and a little heartbreaking about the fact that no matter what Ganondorf does, the gerudos always end up dying out. His yearning for Hyrule, its gentler wind and the Triforce blessing its lands always costs him the kingdom that he does have already.

Now, does he care? A lot of people would argue that he doesn’t, that he used them like pawns for his own ambition and saw them as servants more-so than sisters, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Nintendo’s official opinion, but… One very powerful thing about most of Ganondorf’s incarnations (focusing on the human ones) is that he never seems to reject his cultural heritage. They could have gone for him wearing more kingly hylian stuff given the whole underlying theme of envy and pride surrounding his character, but never once does he try to look more hylian, beyond the ear situation that seems to be tied to the Triforce of Power? Either way: he is gerudo. Several of his outfits reference his mothers, as well as general gerudo patterning and jewelry. His heritage is something he proudly displays, even hundred of years in the future when there is no one left to remember what it means but him. I think it’s a very potent piece of characterization, an arc that crosses over multiple game and says something pretty intense about this character’s fate and his inherent destructiveness over the things he touches –starting with the Triforce, all the way up to his very own body and mind. His mental breakdown by the end of Wind Waker, when the king of Hyrule himself forces him to give up on the thing he sacrificed everything for, takes a new kind of weight with the whole picture taken into account.

(not to excuse genocide or general egomania-fueled madness and violence, but one thing doesn’t mean the other isn’t also relevant)

Regardless of whether this is a tragedy for Ganondorf as their uhh complete failure of a king, honestly, it is undeniably a tragedy for the gerudos themselves: a once-in-a-lifetime joyful event turned into a never-ending nightmare from which there seems to be no escape, their legacy now condemned to fade to black, leaving nothing behind but a demon boar forever laying ruin upon the world.

One may say I’m taking on the bleakest explication for the gerudos’ absence when there could be others. It’s true! Perhaps the gerudos are just chilling off-screen, completely fine, not interested in whatever is happening in the kingdom nearby and their disaster child having yet another temper tantrum about not being the Goddesses’ favorite boy. It’s possible! But regardless, what little elements we do possess as players doesn’t seem to support this, even if it remains possible –and regardless of actual gerudo lives, gerudo culture is definitively a goner in every single timeline.

Even if they did survive... Hyrule still won its unification war.

(I won’t mention Skyward Sword as they are not really a thing there, except for a butterfly that seems to suggest the Gerudo Province was a thing before the gerudo people –I don’t know what to do with this honestly– and the whole Groose situation, which, I’m not sure what to make of either beyond the fact that he may have gotten cursed by opposing Demise? And then went on to start the gerudo tribe, which ended up being an all-women group for some reason? Maybe? It’s not confirmed? I feel like it’s more of a fun tidbit than a central piece of the gerudo puzzle, so I’ll leave it there like I would a cool rock I brought back from a walk and that I don’t know where to put in my house)

Then, Breath of the Wild happened and changed things.

BREATH OF THE WILD

(Additional short note, but: while I won’t mention Four Swords Adventure, since it’s a weird one that almost nobody has played and severely messes with the Timeline, we kind of see the beginnings of what is about to happen in Breath of the Wild in this game –gerudos coming back without much explanation, then distancing themselves from Ganondorf to become friends with hylians because he was too hungry for power and now they are nice and have good reputation because they are our friendsss)

I was actually so happy to learn gerudos were making a comeback in a mainline Zelda game, and this got me more excited about Breath of the Wild than basically anything else the game involved. And getting to explore the Desert once again, meeting this new batch of impossibly tall buff girls, getting more about their language and their culture, Riju and the rest of the little girls are adorable, the grandmas are so cool, the sand seals??? sign me the fuck up??? And above it all, hanging around Gerudo Town at night and feeling as warm and cozy as little me liked to imagine how freeing it would feel, to stay there and watch the desert behind the safety of their walls in OoT… This was great. I loved it.

It was a huge compensation for the criticism I’m about to make, but did leave me with… questions regarding how their culture was going to be handled moving forward.

I’ll start with something small yet deeply revelatory, then work my way from there.

So... gerudos’ ears are pointy now.

This is pretty significant. Lore-wise, it’s been said that the elongated ears of hylians are there so they can better hear the voices of the gods. It’s considered a sign of holiness in-universe. There's a bunch of really thoughtful analysis on tumblr over that whole Ganondorf ear situation, which is a mess but also very interesting, but the short answer is: I think the absence of pointy ears was a clear design choice to originally signify them as Less Good. Even when Ganondorf gets pointier ears, they never get as long as hylians’. Worth noting: not every non-gerudo character has pointy ears: gorons, zoras and ritos (among others) do not possess this trait, and there are even some humans that have regular rounded ears in the series –though they always seem to be of lesser relevance, if not downright peasants in Twilight Princess. Pointy ears always tended to implied a strict hierarchy in the series: basically, the more pointy, the more Protagonist you become.

(also their eyes becoming green instead of the traditional yellow/golden, which looks more wicked and demonic --and cooler also tbh)

The pointy ears imply two things. From within the game, this could be interpreted in two ways: either that gerudos… converted, for a lack of a better term, and are now considered holy through their worship of the Golden Goddesses and/or Hylia, or that their mingling with hylians through tens of thousands of years had them acquiring this trait out of sheer genetic override (though they have kept their mostly-women birth rates, their big nose, darker skin –for the most part– and red hair). Probably a healthy mixture of both. Design-wise, it signifies something quite simple to the player: they are on hylians’ side now. They are good guys. We can trust them, even if they still have a little spice in them. They aligned themselves with us and against Ganon in all of its manifestations (even if he’s but an angry ghastly pig being parasitic to everything it touches in this iteration). They are on the side of Good, definitively, and will fight evil by our side.

On that note, I think it’s worth bringing out another major change from their initial iteration, which is their overt friendship with Hyrule as a whole, and with the Royal Family in particular. Despite not allowing any voe inside their walls (we’ll come back to this), their relationship with hylians is pretty neat. They have booming trade roads, travel and meet with the rest of the cultures, and are fierce enemies with the Yiga clan, who are renowned for being huge Calamity Ganon supporters. The tables certainly have turned. I want to bring out, in particular, Urbosa’s friendship with the queen and her role as the cool aunt taking care of Zelda and protecting her from evil (to be noted: I am not familiar with Age of Calamity so if I’m mischaracterizing her in any way, please let me know). The gerudo sense of sisterhood has been extended to the royals they used to fight against. I would go on and say the cultures peacefully coexist, but I think that what we’re looking at here is a case of vassal behavior, just like we used to have from zoras (in the non-Fallen Timelines) and gorons. This is a huge departure from gerudos being openly rejecting of Hylian culture in their initial iteration, and something that is worth returning to later.

Okay. Now it’s time to mention the weird obsession BotW gerudos have with romance. I didn’t take notice of my issues with their writing until I realized how prevalent of a theme that was. Now, the reason given for gerudos to refuse entry to males (of every race) has much more to do with preventing young gerudos to make mistakes than anything else, and is actively being put into question by the younger generations –which would make sense. But the amount of NPCs that either lament their lack of match, talk about their husbands (because they marry now apparently) or are invested in romance, and a very limited understanding of romance at that (heterosexual, closed, etc), makes for much more of the population that I initially expected. There’s no mention of what’s going on with their males, if there are new males being born and either exiled or abandoned, or if Ganondorf being technically still alive have have cut them off male heirs. Either way: no more kings, only girlbosses chiefs.

To have the gerudos so interconnected with Hyrule, not only through trade but through extremely coded romance where they have to make themselves palatable to a future male partner and enforce fidelity, was… a choice. The extremely brief and skippable mention of gerudos sometimes going to Castle Town in search for boyfriends in OoT became half of their personality traits in this game. We went from a race that was fiercely independent and mocking of the unworthy men who tried to mingle with them, to… this. Now I’m not saying some of the sidequests aren’t cute, or that I didn’t like the wedding, or that the grandma near the abandoned statue of Hylia (so she was worshipped at some point) clocking us and talking about her love life wasn’t one of my favorite gerudo conversations. I’m saying that the vibes have definitively changed. For the better? I’m not sure.

I once stumbled upon an article that said that Breath of the Wild gerudos were a huge improvement compared to their original introduction, because they were no longer presented as evil and hostile thieves groveling at the boot of a single man, but as a full culture allied with the protagonist and actively involved in the story, while still getting their Cool Girl Badass moment (again can’t find it anymore, I’ll link it if I stumble upon it again). I see where this comes from, but I honestly can’t help but consider it a reading that assumes something pretty major (though through no fault of their own, as the games tend to hammer this down as hard as they can), and that being hylians as the unquestioned anchor of Good.

Which, in spite of what the games want me to believe, I… feel uncomfortable taking at face value.

To me, regarding how gerudos are being incorporated in that goodie narrative, this is kind of a case of surface-level feminism trumping over colonialist/imperialist concerns. It becomes more important to perform the aesthetics of being cool and friendly and independent than scratching at any deeper problem that would risk making people uncomfortable. This is kind of Green Skin Ganon all over again: oh wait, isn’t it a little icky to have the evil bad guy being brown while faced by the most aryan-looking ass heroes of all time? Okay, then let’s take the brown guy and make his skin green so we don’t have to feel bad anymore that the conflict has racial undertones!! Solved!! There’s nothing questionable about changing a PoC's features to make it more monstrous and less human, right?

To me, it’s kind of the coward option: instead of accepting the messy reality those initial choices created (and their interesting nuances if taken at face value), let’s just… rewrite the PoC culture’s history to make it feel less uncomfortable for the white heroes. In many ways, it is an extension of what hylians have always done: scrubbing the weird and messy things about the past and shoving them deep down into the spooky well and far into the desert prison and away in alternate hellish dimensions, and then make up a very simple story where they get to feel good about themselves –except this time, it’s the fabric of the games, the literal reality, bending backward to make it happen. Which, in my opinion, makes it much worse than before. Now, there’s no conversation. The fabric of reality is changing their own history so that there is nothing to discuss anymore. Ganondorf was always evil incarnate. He never had any point. It was always 100% his own fault, his own hubris, his own fated wickedness. He was always demonic (and green, very important –having a flashback to people on twitter accusing artists restoring the TotK green skin to the original brown of wanting to make Ganondorf black, and like….. how do I put it gently…..)

And, above all else: gerudo are to distance themselves from his legacy so they can stay in the club of the Good and Just and Holy.

Because here’s the messy thing: as much as I love seeing the gerudos again in Breath of the Wild and as much I love for them to have survived the Era of Myth (??? somehow ???), this… kind of changes Ganondorf’s character arc. No longer do we have the story of a king who wanted more, either for his people, for himself or both, and led his culture to its destruction in his search for absolute Power, while remaining ironically incapable of maintaining what little he already had. This starts from him kneeling to the king of Hyrule in OoT and leads to the deluge, Arbiter’s Ground, his own mothers dying for the sake of his failed resurrection. Breath of the Wild changes this: now, the gerudo were apparently fine without him? They apparently did their own thing and became suddenly and inexplicably disconnected from his actions? I know it’s kind of implied they side with hylians at the end of OoT, but it’s honestly never really explored why they would cheer for the death of their king while never seeming to resent him before except for Nabooru –there are mentions of brainwashing for those who resist him (as well as “other groups in the desert”, tho they are never mentioned again), but it’s hardly a proper plot point for the majority of the tribe, aaaand they still die by Wind Waker in the Adult Timeline, in spite of their potential alliegance…

(again, this shift towards submitting to Hyrule actually started with Four Swords Adventure, getting crisper with each iteration)

There used to be this polite blur regarding Ganondorf’s relationship to them, how much he used them and how much he acted in their name (with arguments for both sides), and I think this messy and debatable question mark was one of the most compelling aspects of his character. Gerudos rejecting their relationship at a near-cosmic, reality-bending level, removes a huge layer of complexity to both parties… all for the benefit of making hylians come out cleaner out of this whole exchange, their moral grayness barely a whisper in the distance.

I’ll kind of go on the record and say that I suspect the addition of Demise to the canon to serve a similar purpose (at least in part): if Ganondorf becomes but the manifestation of a demonic curse, and is no longer an extremely messy character brimming with agency and drive, forcing the heavens to reckon with said agency in a way he was never meant to access, born from a complex set of circumstances from which we clearly get only a limited and biased perspective, then it becomes extremely clear that he’s a Bad in a way that isn’t worth exploring further. Even if he does have some points, he is a Bad. It’s what matters most. Not to say I even hate what this angle can bring to the table or that I want him to become Good (I don’t –I’ll talk more about why I dislike most takes on him being a helpless victim to the curse), but once again, who benefits from adding another Unquestionned Baddie to the equation to rest upon? Not him, and not the gerudos, that’s for sure.

So. Why did I, me, personally, like the gerudos in the first place?

Beyond the inherent coolness factor of their culture and the fascinating mysteries of what is merely suggested, I think… I think I loved gerudos because we were obvious outsiders. Because their rejection of Hylian culture was so sharp and extreme, their value system so different, and their writing, their religion, their relationship to power and hierarchy and worth wanted nothing to do with hylians. They didn’t need hylians, beyond them having potential resources to steal. In fact, the threat of hylians influencing their culture was such that the entry to the Fortress was forbidden to everyone (I don’t think men were ever singled out, by the way, even though they are mocked relentlessly). I think there was something inherently hopeful about this semi-matriarchy resisting the outside world, and especially its notions of what girls were meant to be –it was 1998, and every other girl character in OoT, besides Impa and Sheik that?? is another can of worms entirely, is either helpless or someone to save. For them to reject this narrow vision of femininity was, in my opinion, much more radical than what we got in BotW. Less nuanced, more problematic perhaps? But also much more powerful. Gerudo Valley is home, not to a town, but a Fortress.

Hylians were worth being resisted.

In Breath of the Wild, their refusal to let men enter their town is kind of boiled down to a fading tradition over-focused on romance, a meek little game of chase. Their entire goal seems to be finding a hylian to settle down with. Say what you will about the single man and the many girls (never explored and completely open-ended in its implications, btw), but at least it wasn’t… that. At least it opened the way for different ways for people to exist and imagine culture and civilization, outside of the heterosexual couple, the christian-infused patriarchy and its trickling down implications. What I want to say is: let my girls tell hylians they ain’t shit!! That they aren’t the end all be all of reality! This is what made gerudos so compelling in the first place! Where is that bite now? Where is that self-definition?

It’s gone, because hylians need to be Good. So we tee-hee at the creep running laps around the town, we disguise ourselves to breach their trust and infiltrate their town (though there is nuance to be had there, gender be complicated etc), we watch them pine after shitty dudes and take classes to become the perfect approachable woman and make love soups with ?? strange ingredients honestly, and we witness them get very friendly with the Royal Family they used to conspire against, dying to protect the princess against the manifestation of their ancient king reduced to a raving puddle of Bad Boar.

Hyrule, unified against him.

TEARS OF THE KINGDOM

For posterity’s sake: this post was made before the game was released. I’ll probably update my thoughts on a separate thing later on.

I don’t think gerudos allying with the hylians and burying their own legends about Ganondorf as deeply underground as they can until it blows up in their face is a bad setup at all. It’s actually pretty juicy, and there’s a ton of fascinating stuff that could happen here –even some involving gerudos taking a firm stand against him while still reconnecting with their past and the choices they made once. This is my hope with the title of the game: Tears of the Kingdoms. Let’s examine them all, account for the damage, and decide how we move forward from there with the full knowledge of where we come from.

What I am afraid of (and I already made posts about that) is the scenario where gerudos rallying against Ganondorf, which I expect will forcefully try to take back his place as their king, is used for cheap feminist points that completely fail to examine, well. Everything mentioned above. Where reality bends itself out of the way of the Goddesses, and hylians’ responsibility in any of this mess, so that everything bad is 100% Ganon’s fault and so he must be cast aside and torn away from the Cool Gerudo Girls and this is 100% justified and deserved because we are Independent Women Who Take No Shit from No Men (unless they are the king of Hyrule or any random hylian they wish to marry apparently).

I’ll say this here because it’s been burning my mouth every time I see discourse about Ganondorf and the gerudo: gerudos declared him as their king. To make a really bad comparison that I dislike: he didn’t run around to assemble girls and make a cult around himself, he was born with the cult already formed around him (and it’s not a cult, it’s just a different mode of governance –hylians also revere the Royal Family like gods, don’t they?). This heavily changes the dynamics at play. Not to remove any agency from him to do a little invasion about it, but chances are the ancestors to BotW’s gerudos fully expected him to behave in this way, at least to a degree –in OoT you see very plainly that they value physical prowess, feats of thievery, witchcraft and general violence. It’s more complicated than him being a Bad and making the poor helpless women go along with the plan uwu –even taking the brainwashing into account, AND Koume and Kotake counting as gerudos too, even if they might not be not fully innocent in shaping the culture and the man himself. If manipulation and forced servitude is the explanation given, I’ll be genuinely mad –because, once more, all the nuance and messiness would be flattened for the sake of making Ganondorf Bad and the gerudo Good (= on hylians’ side).

It bears to be said: I think feminism stances that require, not to criticize (which is fair), but to fully dehumanize and bestialize men of color to make any sense are uhhh bad, and it's worth questionning who they end up serving in the end.

The flip side of this would be to make Ganondorf a poor little meow meow that was secretly controlled by the evil Demise all along, and... I’ll be real. I really don’t think it solves our problem at all. It might even make it worse.

My problem with how gerudos have been handled thus far, being mostly connected to how they behave in relation to hylians Good, is that they’ve been systematically defanged not to threaten the status quo as much as they used to. I think it’s pretty clear why I’m not a fan of Ganondorf being a mere victim of cosmic circumstances; I have a post that goes more in depth about this, but to simplify: my man has legitimate grievances. To make him a mere puppet to Evil Incarnate would, to me, be just another attempt to erase the despotism of the Goddesses, the unjust hierarchy of the world, what hylians have historically done to the races they were in conflict with (looking at the Yiga for the most recent example…)

I’m not saying his fight is clean or even legitimate, that he isn't driven by his own sense of self-importance above anything else, or that he should win (he has no plan beyond domination and victory, that's not a future). But I think there’s something really important about having someone being willing to fully consume himself and everything around him for the simple fact that someone should resist the order of the world. Even if that makes him a heartless, cruel, and egomaniac demon-pig. Even if there’s no Hyrule left to rule. Even if his own people despise him, or are long gone and forgotten.

Is it a little heart-wrenching? Uhh yes to me yes most definitively. This is why Wind Waker Ganondorf hits so hard, and remains (I think) his favorite entry in the series so far. But… I still find this fate of eternal resistance more resonant and empowered, and far less grim, than if Hyrule’s lore absorbs his hatred and rage, gives it to another entity that would be Badder (= more opposed to hylians and the goddesses), and scrubs it off anything icky and uncomfortable, rendering it completely domesticated and non-threatening to hylian domination; rubbed of his skin color, of his complexity, of his own emotions, even made... kind of sexy now, in the same way his sisters have been made before him? I am very, very afraid of him being turned from furious and an unapologetic subject in his own legend to a "redeemed" (according to whom??) and palatable object in somebody else’s, that you now end up having to… save from himself.

Again, I want to trust that Tears of the Kingdom can walk that line and preserve everything sharp and contrasting and profound and thrilling about this fascinating setup. I don’t expect a philosophy course, this is a game for children –but it doesn’t mean Nintendo didn’t do an astounding job with similar setups in the past. Again, I’ll invoke the Wind Waker conflict, but Twilight Princess did a lot of great things as well (Zant’s speech, if you can get past the weird stretches and stumping and NNHYAAAs, is pretty fantastic) –and the subtle writing of Majora’s Mask is also proof enough this series can be complex without being impermeable.

So this is where my hope lies. Not really with BotW’s writing, which, I’m sorry to say, but I found to be below what the series has done in the past (I have no problem with the setup and how the story is explored, I think it was a great idea, but wasn’t ever sold on the actual writing the way I may have been with previous titles –it felt… very tropey to me overall, with a couple of highlights). But Nintendo has shown to know how to write compelling stories for children that know where to sprinkle its darkness and how to preserve its hope, and this is this side I’m relying on for this delicate storyline moving forward.

And now? Now… I suppose we wait and see.

(thank you for reading my impossibly long essay what the actual hell, at least I got it all out of my system, see you in part 2 for when TotK comes out I suppose aaa)

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