Spoilers For 5.1 Archon Quest

Spoilers for 5.1 Archon Quest

yan!capi x soldier!reader who used to idolize/adore him? 👀

Specifically, you used to be a black serpent knight who worked under him. From the very first day you met him, you could not help but admire him; such a strong, powerful man- worthy of being a commander, worthy of being loved and respected. Your crush on him, your own commander, had been visible to any and all that cared to look. And that included even him, as well. 

Though he never quite returned your feelings. all of your attempts at catching his attention fell flat. Your commander did not care for romance, and did not care for you beyond you being a knight under his command. Still, you persisted and tried your best again and again to earn his praise and affection- through always training, keeping spare food from your own rations for him, willing to do any and all tasks. 

And then, Khaenri'ah falls, and you get injured and cursed to a painful immortality. It's devastating, it's cruel and painful and you end up separating from your group, including your commander- never knowing what happens to him.  

Five hundred years pass in resentment and bitterness, then a bone-deep exhaustion and now... 

The wind howls over the desolate, forgotten battlefield, carrying with it memories of long-lost battles and fallen comrades. You stand among the remnants, staring at the tattered banner of a past era. The centuries have been cruel, not just to the land, but to you. You don't know why you came back here, yet you can't bring yourself to leave just yet. 

Your legs ache- a dull, persistent pain that has been your constant companion for centuries. The curse has worn you down, body and soul, until all that remains is a tired will to survive. You sigh and shift your weight, leaning heavily on the stone slab you were using to remain upright. There’s little left to fight for now. Just a hollow existence.

Then, you feel it- the heavy presence of someone behind you. It’s not the first time you’ve felt a presence like this, and for a brief moment, a flicker of recognition stirs in your chest. You turn slowly, your body heavy with exhaustion, and there he is. Once, he'd been your commander. Now, he is a Fatui Harbinger.

Capitano.

The man you once idolized, the commander you adored. But that was so long ago, so distant it feels like another lifetime. Now, the sight of him- tall, imposing, clad in the black armor- stirs nothing inside you but weariness. His mask is as dark and unreadable as the void, hiding every part of his face, giving no hint of the man beneath. The commander you knew is long gone, replaced by this Harbinger, cold and unrelenting. Even if certain traits still exist within him.

“You’ve come back,” you murmur, your voice barely louder than the wind.

His head tilts ever so slightly, the black mask making it impossible to see his eyes. Yet you can feel his gaze locked on you, weighing you down even more. Once, you would have given everything for such attention.

“I’ve come to claim you.” he replies, his voice deep and resonating from behind the mask. The sound of it is steady, almost indifferent, yet it carries an unsettling weight of finality. 

You don’t move, don’t resist. The fatigue that has plagued you for centuries sinks deeper into your bones. “Claim me?” you echo softly,  chuckling. “What’s left to claim, Capitano? There’s nothing here anymore. I hold no adoration for you anymore."

The mask remains still, impenetrable, yet his presence grows more suffocating as he steps closer. “You were always mine,” he says quiet yet resolute. “And you still are.”

You sigh, not out of fear, but of sheer exhaustion. The energy to fight him, to resist, just isn’t there anymore. “I’m not the same soldier I used to be, commander. That person’s long gone. You should leave me here, where I belong.”

But Capitano doesn’t leave. Instead, his gloved hand reaches out and grips your wrist, firm but not painful. You don’t pull away. You simply look at him, weary and resigned, watching as he brings out a ring, dark as his armor. You don’t ask why—your mind too clouded with fatigue to even care.

He slides the ring onto your finger, his voice low and steady. “This is your place, with me. You’ve wandered for too long.”

You look down at the ring. It's cold. “It’s been centuries, Capitano,” you say, your voice a whisper. “Do you really still think I belong to you?”

He pulls you closer, until you’re pressed against his chestplate, the harsh cold of his armor making you shiver. His masked face hovers above yours, unreadable, but his grip is firm, unyielding. “I never stopped thinking it,” he murmurs, voice deep and possessive. “You admired me once- more than anyone. That devotion is mine to keep.”

You don’t fight him. You can’t. The years have taken too much out of you. “That was a lifetime ago,” you sigh, resting your head lightly against his armor. “I’m not sure I even know who you are anymore.”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he says, his voice soft but filled with dark certainty. “You will stay with me. We will be wed, and you will never be alone again. Your suffering ends with me.”

For a moment, you close your eyes, letting the heavy weariness wash over you. Part of you wants to resist, to push him away. But the truth is, you’re tired- so tired. The centuries of pain and solitude have worn you down to the point where even the idea of fighting feels like too much. Capitano’s grip is cold, but it’s steady, and in that moment, you almost feel… relieved. You don’t want to admit it, but the thought of someone else taking control, of someone else carrying the weight you’ve been shouldering alone, is tempting. Especially if it's him.

“Is this really what you want?” you ask, though you already know his answer.

His arms tighten around you, drawing you in even closer. “It’s not just what I want,” he says, voice low. Unbending. “It’s what will be.”

He lifts you into his arms with ease, your body too tired to struggle, too worn to protest. You glance up at the dark mask once more, seeing nothing but the void where his face should be. And yet, for the first time in what feels like ages, you don’t feel completely alone.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“Snezhnaya,” he answers, his tone firm and absolute. “My home. Where you belong.”

You let out a soft sigh, leaning into his chest, your body going limp in his hold. “I’m too tired to fight you, Capitano. I don’t think I care anymore.”

His response is unwavering. “You won’t need to fight. You’ll be with me now. I’ll take care of you.”

As he begins to walk, each step echoing the finality of your fate, you close your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion. The world around you fades, and all you can feel is his steady, unrelenting presence. The future, dark and uncertain, is no longer your burden to bear. So what if your freedom is to be taken away?

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” you murmur faintly.

“I do,” Capitano replies, his masked face tilting down toward you, his voice calm yet possessive. If he holds you any tighter, the claws of his armor would dig into your skin. “You’re mine. That is all you need.”

And as the cold winds of the battlefield sweep behind you, you let go of whatever fight you had left.

OBX 4 SPOILERS!!!

sofia overhearing rafe talking about her just being some pogue he’s hooking up with 😭😭😭😭😭 man i’ve read COUNTLESS FICS LIKE THAT ON HERE OMG

i think the writers just came onto tumblr and said “WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN” !!!

Fremen Girl

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Fremen!reader

Summary: The potential wife of any future Baron must prove herself by surviving in the arena before the current Baron will permit the marriage. In this case, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen wants a wife, and he might have just found a woman capable of meeting that challenge.

Notes/Warnings: this is just the first section of this fic, which I can't decide if I want as one long fic (5k words) or multiple short parts (5 or so). If you like it, feel free to provide an opinion on that. Comments help me out and make me happy, so they're always welcome :) Also, Dune inaccuracies and typos.

Words: 900

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

The toe of a boot jams into your calf. Your knees are the first to crack on the tiled flooring of Arrakeen Palace’s throne room. You land with a grunt, followed by four more grunts as the knees of your Fremen brothers are forced down beside you.

That’s all that remains of the troop sent to attack one of the Harkonnen patrol groups. Out of twenty-one, only five. 

The five of you make a neat line in front of the empty throne with you in the middle. From left to right, one after the other reduced to half height, your heads down, arms bound behind your backs, and blood dripping from various Harkonnen-inflicted wounds. 

Your only wound is a swollen, busted lip, which you found curious until you realized their goal was to capture the remaining few of you, not kill. That swift fist to the face had caught you off guard while you were trying to aid a friend who inevitably met their death, and in that moment, you knew you were going to be made an example of; a warning to other Fremen: Be smart. Don’t end up like this girl. 

So, here you are, in a Harkonnen-occupied palace awaiting your grim fate, forced to bow to an old baron you thought was too lazy to leave his home planet of Giedi Prime, let alone bother with a handful of Fremen who made a minuscule dent in his massive army. 

But then you hear footsteps echoing as they make their way through the vast, hollow room. 

“Are these the ones?” is asked in a low, gruff voice. It’s akin to the voices of the men who brought you here, but it contains a unique richness and lacks the worn, overused quality that comes from many decades of aging. Definitely not the Baron.

“Yes, my Lord na-Baron,” one of the brutes answers from behind you, conveniently answering your unasked question as well.

“And which of them did the most damage?” 

Thick fingers dig into your hair, nails scraping your scalp as your head is yanked back. You swallow your whine from the pain and meet a set of deep blue eyes. You know those eyes—well, you know stories of those eyes. As a small child, you overheard whispers amongst the Fremen elders of the Harkonnen boy with the soulless eyes who killed his mother and maimed his family’s slaves. The promising younger nephew of the Baron: Feyd-Rautha. Barely older than yourself and yet word of his deadly glare was already jumping from planet to planet. 

But those eyes change as they look at you. There’s a quick shift from wicked to amused, a glint flitting across his irises as he scans your face. His lips tick upward—almost imperceptibly—but you catch it before it disappears. 

“Release her,” the future baron instructs. The tension from your abused strands eases as he steps forward and crouches in front of you, much too close for your liking. You want to flinch away, but Fremen do not cower to intimidation. 

“So,” he starts, peering into you, “you're the one causing me trouble, hmm?”

“She took down twelve of our men.”

His brow raises and his head tilts, but Feyd-Rautha does not break your stare. “Twelve? Is that right?”

“She bites as well, the fucking bitch,” the soldier grumbles to his leader. When you roll your eyes, said leader's lips quirk again. “Too much spirit in her if you ask me.”

All sense of amusement drains from the na-Baron’s features. Cold blue eyes flick to the soldier, and with the attention momentarily off of you, you take a breath. 

“I did not ask you,” he says in an eerily calm tone. 

You can practically hear the gulp that struggles to make its way down the other Harkonnen’s throat. “Apologies, my Lord.”

Feyd-Rautha returns his gaze to you. He examines you for a few long beats before lifting his hand and swiping his thumb through the blood beginning to cake on your split lip. 

“Don’t touch her!” comes from the left in your native tongue.

You wince. He’s one of the younger ones, just shy of your age. Well-trained enough to be a dangerous force, faster than the older Fremen at your sides, but so full of hatred for Harkonnens that his enthusiasm has him making silly mistakes, clearly not excluding shouting in a threatening tone when it would be best to remain silent. 

The butt of a Harkonnen weapon slams into the back of his head and he falls forward, landing face-first on the floor. 

The na-Baron doesn’t pay the disruption a lick of attention. His index finger meets his thumb and they swirl together in small circles until they’re thoroughly coated in your blood. Then, one at a time, he sticks them into his mouth and sucks that little bit of you off of each pale digit. 

“Lover?” he asks you, nudging his head toward your knocked-out friend. You shake your head.

Leisurely taking in your features, his eyes trace the curl of your lashes, the slope of your nose, then the V of your cupid’s bow before he says, “A woman more deadly than the men who flank her is quite rare...and impressive.” Your brows pinch at the compliment and he smirks. “I think I might have use for you, Fremen girl.”

---

A/N(just a repeat of the notes up top in case you missed it): this is just the first section of this fic, which I can't decide if I want as one long fic (5k words) or multiple short parts (5 or so). If you like it, feel free to provide an opinion on that. Comments help me out and make me happy, so they're always welcome :)

@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t

ermmm capitano corpse bride au? yes? no? anyone?

your old husband from khaenriah comes back as a corpse? hello? he gave you a ring before he died? and you still wear it? five hundred years later?

IS ANYONE OUT THERE?

hiiix can i b 💍emoji? also honestly thinking about rafe telling you to shut up if your to loud🥲

ofc! welcome bby <3 (tw noncon/dubcon, reader tries to tell rafe to wait and instead he goes harder 😫 mainly rafe’s POV here)

rafe’s eyes fell shut as he tried to hone in on the euphoric feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him, sucking him in as he pounded into you from the back.

this was arguably rafe’s favorite way to take you. as much as he loved watching the faces you made while he drove his cock into you, hitting it from the back allowed him to reach depths of your cunt that he just couldn’t get to as easily in missionary.

but each time rafe heard you mewl or whine beneath him, that lust he was chasing, inched closer to irritation. his patience with you had long flown out the window, and you knew better than to complain and cry over a punishment you’d earned yourself.

you might not agree with him, but rafe knew flirting when he saw it… or in this case, even when he didn’t see it. your boyfriend simply took kelce’s word when he told him he’d seen you ‘chatting it up’ with the pogues earlier that day. just the thought of you interacting with them pissed rafe off, to no end. it was something you already knew would land you in hot water.

so why even do it? what was so special about the island trash, namely jj, that you just couldn’t resist? that’s all rafe could wonder as he dragged you up the stairs and forced you face first onto his bed. you were lucky he was nice enough to warm you up; stretching you out with his fingers, even loosening you up with his warm tongue, which was more than you deserved. your cunt was still squeezing the life out of him though, almost trying to force him out each time he shoved inside of you.

a particularly harsh thrust caused you to let out a pained cry, and rafe rolled his eyes at the sound. you couldn’t help the fact that the action made your body jolt forward, trying to evade the rough snaps of his hips.

but that was the last straw for rafe.

in one swift motion, two large hands gripped your hips and pulled you back down onto his cock. he let out a low groan at the feel, but the same action caused you to whine out again in discomfort.

“rafe, w-wait-,”

your cries were ignored; rafe pressed down on your spine with one hand while the other weaved itself in your hair, gripping at the roots and shoving your face down into the pillow.

his body immediately chased after yours, his toned chest pressing up against your back as rafe leaned down, his lips level with your ear.

“shut the fuck up,” he rasped, his annoyance clear in his tone. you couldn’t stop your cunt from fluttering around his length as he cursed at you.

rafe nibbled at your lobe before straightening himself back out. his hand remained on the back of your head, nails scratching at your scalp as his lips parted. he lowered his gaze, admiring the forced arch of your back and the way your ass rippled with each pointed thrust of his hips.

“you just never get used to taking this big cock, do you?”

he chuckled to himself, finding amusement in the way you could only grip the sheets and whine while pinned between your strong boyfriend and the king size mattress.

you somehow managed to turn your head to the side, letting rafe press your cheek into the pillow now and giving you the chance to plead your case again.

“please…” you panted, squirming around beneath him, “too…too much!”

“too much? aww, cute…” he repeated, tauntingly.

repositioning himself on his knees, rafe drew his hips back slowly, creating the space he needed to slam back into you, even more unforgivingly than he had before.

“that’s just too damn bad, huh? cause you’re gonna lie there and take this shit either way.”

idk if youve watched scream but like what abt that one scene where stu and tatum r walking and he picks her up and kisses her neck and shit but with bsf!jj where the pogues are talking and he just keeps groping and grabbing and they all keep talking cuz its just normal 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

i luv scream.. rip tatum u will always be famous

you are sarah are walking side by side as you leave school, turning the corner as she rambles before hearing the voice you know so well. “yo, just picked up some new shit from cousin ricky that you and me are smokin’ toooooonight.” he says playfully a little too loudly, causing you to swat him on the shoulder.

john b smirks in sarah’a direction as he throws an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into him as she smiles. “stop it, jj.” you chuckle, his eyes widen jokingly taking mock offense, crossing sarah and john b before tackling you over his shoulder. stepping from the road to the pavement as you accept your fate and place your hands on his shoulders for balance, squealing as he pretends to drop you backwards. “sooo, i say impromptu party tonight at the chateau, to celebrate the stickiest of ickies, what’dya say?”

“are you serious?” sarah asks with a little chuckle, hoisting her bag further up onto her shoulder giving jj a raised brow look, looking back at john b for confirmation as he just smirks. “you heard the man.”

“as long as this one don’t invite the whole damn island, we’ll be fine.” jj says tapping your butt, spinning you around and placing you down next to him, still keeping a hand draped around your waist, holding you close to him.

“intimate gathering, close friends.” john b mutters, in an attempt to convince her, as she shakes her head with a smile. “cmonnn sarah, a lil’ weed makes all your problems drift away…” you tempt with a smile; wiggling your fingers in her face as she swats them away playfully, dropping them by your sides as jj reaches for your hand, swinging it obnoxiously as he rambles.

“we’re totally protected, yo- i am so buff” he smirks, flexing the arm he wasn’t holding your hand with and you roll your eyes. “i got you covered girl, fightin’ all your mental demons n shit.” jj smirks and speaks with that southern drawl you love.

“fine. whatever.” she throws her arms up in defeat and you squeal wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. “this is gonna be awesome, okay let’s go.” grabbing her hand and continuing up the path, john b giving sarah a quick peck before the two boys wander off towards where the twinkie was parked on the other side of the road, hopping in and sharing a low high five as john b steps on the gas.

“so they’re coming. proud of you buddy.” he states with a side smirk, one hand on the wheel, focusing on reversing out of the space. “hell yeah they’re comin’. y’know me. mister convincer.” he says energetically, drumming a beat on the dashboard, john b rolling his eyes at his best friends’s antics.