#dune fic

[faetreides]

summary: priest!leto x afab!reader x priest!paul (title from scorpio by pour vous)

cw: blasphemy if i’m being so real, spit roasting, reader is lowkey losing it but they’ll be okay, dubcon, pwp-ish (there’s set up but it’s not that long imo), mention of paul being into predator/prey, daddy kink coded without the actual daddy kink, horror elements, unreliable narrator vibes, mention of them being willing to non con reader if things didn’t go their way, no incest between leto & paul 💀, reader’s their sad loser turned attic spouse, mention of eventual impreg, implied soft dom!leto & mean dom!paul, religious practice inaccuracies, possibly predictable plot twists, implied painful anal but reader’s too out of it to feel it, implied natural aphrodisiac in their spit, reader bleeds

wc: 2.5k

block & move on if uncomfortable,

do not translate/repost/give my works to ai

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You’ve been feeling… lost. The trees keep secrets from you and the clouds mix together like egg whites. You wish you knew what kind of pill you need to be on, you wish you knew what was wrong with you. You’re paranoid and seeing blank eyes watching you through the brick and mortar of your apartment. Your skin burns hotter than hell and sometimes you think that there are claws grabbing at your ankles when you sleep.

Church hasn’t been something you’ve bothered to attend since you were a kid, but you yearn for it now.

You pull your tattered coat around yourself as you step into the ancient building. The Church of Caladan is the oldest church in the country, if not the world. You hope you don’t look silly when you take caution with how hard your feet hit the stone. ‘You break it, you buy it’ must apply to old churches too.

Your unease rolls off you in waves, and a couple nearby priests seem to sense it in the same way that horses can sense fear. For a second you imagine bursting into flames, but there are hands groping your flesh through the great hellfire.

They’re about even in height, though one is clearly older. The gray hair weaved into his temples suits him more than it shows his age. The younger man has the same dark and wavy hair, but his gaze is a touch more haggard and rife with burden.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have burst in here…. I'm just looking around.” You rush to explain so they would go away, internally cringing at yourself.

“No, we want newcomers to feel comfortable enough to ask questions. I’m Leto,” He says and shakes your hand. “And this is my son, Paul. He’s recently started working here at the church with me.”

Paul steps up to shake your head as well, his mouth doesn’t move but you swear that the corners twitch. The stained glass windows cast a multicolored hue on his eyes and you find yourself lost in the swirling pools of light. Then black holes swallow the brightness in the irises, cosmic cannibalism.

You blink in alarm and awkwardly take a step back from the two priests. Father and son share a look between them that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing them.

Leto clears his throat and pointedly grabs your hands in both of his, encapsulating them in his warmth.

“You’ll have to forgive him, Paul’s never dealt with a lamb as darling as you before. He’s never dealt with one at all actually, you two can go through this together.”

Paul smiles but it fits all wrong, with teeth that should be fangs and with a tongue that appears forked. You blink again and all is well, the man before you fits his human skin like a glove. Maybe you should give them the benefit of the doubt, you’re convinced you’re going crazy anyway and Priests would never be capable of hurting someone. Ghosts aren’t real and Demons are just a crazed mother’s bedtime story.

“Um, okay. Thank you for accepting me.” That’s all you want, deep down, and they know that. “I felt moved to be here, I can’t explain it.”

Leto nods and Paul rubs your shoulder in sympathy. They would hiss that they know full well what called you here, but you might bleat and scurry away. You make a sad picture, abandoned and half insane, but that’s what they are for. To soothe and to serve you, to purify you from the inside out.

“Then all the more reason to stay and sit for a moment, don’t you think?” Paul finally speaks, the boyish tone surprising you.

“Paul’s right, let’s get this jacket off you, poor lamb. You must be freezing to death.” Leto coos, shushing your protests and carefully pulling the cheap thing off of you.

They take you on a little tour of sorts, pointing out the architectural details of the building itself as well as passionately delving into its history. Centuries of worship and service to the community, strangely never having sustained any kind of property damage. The priests speak of the church as if they were wandering through the halls all this time, and they chuckle when they tease you about how relieved they were that you didn’t suffer from a nosebleed. They’re quite common apparently.

“I think that should do it, i’d hate to think that we’ve been talking your ear off, dear.” Leto says, rubbing the inside of your wrist and directing you towards the large piano on the stage at the front of the church.

He must notice the sudden spark in your eyes at the sight, because his crow’s feet wrinkles deepen as he pulls the black piano bench out. Leto’s palm spreads out wide and he gives the leather seat a firm pat, signaling for you to sit down. Butterflies swirl in your stomach with anxiety but you feel too shy to refuse the clearly eager offer. You take a seat in front of an onyx grand piano far grander than you’re used to seeing in a church.

Leto soon occupies the space next to you. The bench is small enough that your thigh is pressing against his, warmth bleeds through your clothes and the indication of muscle really makes you wish you were alone in your room with a rose toy. You place your fingers on the pristinely polished keys and clumsily play some hodgepodge of a melody that you remember from your childhood. A mix of tchaikovsky and children's church songs.

You jump and play the wrong note when you feel thick fingers slide up your thigh. Your cheeks burn with heat but you focus on the music. Leto sighs with sugary sweet satisfaction but doesn’t move his fingers any further. He also doesn’t try to play, it’s almost like he only wants to bask in the domesticity of watching you perform. You think you hear him whisper “That’s it, who knew such a talented lamb would be gracing our doorstep?”

You get a flash of riding him on the piano, gasping into his hair chest when it breaks under the weight of your passion. Thin fingers come from behind to caress your ass as it moves, much colder than the cock you’re bouncing on. Then it fades away, and you’re back to making a fool of yourself with your little song.

Paul watches from the pulpit, eyes drinking in the way your curves expand and move as you squirm. His grip tightens on the bright wood but you’re none the wiser. You almost forget that he’s even there, something which he realizes because he strolls to stand behind you and his father. The music stops once you feel his breath on your neck and he bends down to tenderly pull your hair off of your shoulder, getting himself acquainted with the texture as he rubs his fingertips down the strands.

A distant voice calls out for Leto and he stands, smiling apologetically and thanking you for the performance. You feel adrift as you watch him walk away, reminding yourself that a man like him has other things to do than coddle you.

Paul slides a hand down your back and guides you down to the pew right up front, with a view of center stage, sitting right beside you with a wink. Once Leto returns, you spot the silver tray of communion wafers in his hands. The tray is set on the pulpit by his side.

The older man's eyes darken as he puts one in his mouth, and your brain shuts down when he snatches your face in his rough palms and kisses you sense no less. The wafer cracks as his tongue passes it into your mouth, the salty crumbs oddly making you crave something even saltier. There’s a sticky sweet sensation traveling through your body as you exchange saliva with him, your brain feels so foggy.

You break away, curling your hands into the collar of Leto’s uniform.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Your voice is small and not completely filled with disgust, you’re honestly too desperate for some form of human contact to make good decisions.

“We’re helping you, honey.” Leto purrs into the seam of your mouth, shaking his head in apparent fondness.

You’re too cute for your own good, at least they don’t have to worry about covering their tracks. Any incubus or succubus would be glad to get a hold of someone as lonely as you, but they wouldn’t love you like you deserve. You haven’t been watched by anyone as long as you’ve been watched by them. He hopes that Paul doesn’t shove his foot in his mouth and let it slip that he wished you gave them the opportunity to take you by force. His son carries a torch for a bit of predator and prey action, he likes playing with his food too much. You’re different from the scrambling mice that get torn to bits, though, you’re forever.

Plus, if you don’t get it now, he has no problems with explaining everything when you’re too weak to get up and try to run away.

Paul buries his face in your neck, spilling the vial of wine he had in his pocket down your shirt. It soaks the tank top underneath and though you try with all your might to wriggle away, the desire to resist gets brushed away under a heavy fog.

It’s nice to be touched, to be wanted after a lifetime of feeling the exact opposite. Perhaps this is why the lord guided you to his grandest home, so you could take his prophets into your body.

The black vanishes from Paul’s eyes and you sink against his chest, making out with his father as your eyes roll back into your head.

No words are uttered verbally as Paul shuffles to the side and pulls you to lie back on the pew’s cushion. Leto deprives you of his tongue and gives you a chance to breathe, which both men do with you in sync, resting their foreheads against you.

The nectar on your tongue tastes divine, little lamb, a voice whispers in your mind.

Let us give you purpose so you no longer need to roam, another begs.

You’re crying from the relief of having your mouth filled, Paul tilts your head up by your chin as he slowly slides his cock into your mouth. The ridges and bumps of what feels like piercings sends a jolt of arousal through you.

“Fuck-” He hisses and rubs your neck, watching you adjust to the stretch. “So warm-”

Leto tuts and clamps his hands around your hips, you’re already too fucked out to register sharp black claws taking care of your clothes. Leaving you bare. A shiver passes through your body as he drags his huge hand down to your pussy, being mindful not to accidentally scratch you. He intends for there to be no blood, this time, not a lot.

You gag on Paul’s length when Leto slams your hips against his pelvis, grinding not one but two large cocks against your cunt. If you were looking at his face, you’d see pitch black eyes and intimidating fangs, but all you can focus on is the hazy candle light and what must be someone playing an organ.

You catch a view of one of the stained class windows, a pair of angels cradling a lamb. It’s the only damaged part of the church, with cracks running along the angel’s wings. You’d think it’s a sneeze away from shattering entirely. Your view of it is blurred by Paul’s quick thrusts, gagging on it again. Drools drip onto the red carpet.

Leto grabs one of Paul’s curled horns and yanks his head to the side, scolding at him to be nicer to you. You’ve clearly never taken three cocks inside you, the one you’re servicing is proving to be overwhelming enough. Again, Paul’s new to this experience as well, just in a different way than you are. In a sense, it’s like he was born yesterday. The older man relays this to you through your choked moans and tears, assuring you that he’s taught Paul how to clean up his messes and be grateful. Something like this will be no different.

“Hush, beloved. I would have gladly speared your mouth but you would be dead before I could cum inside it.”

You see God in the sky when Leto slaps the tapered tip of one of his dicks against your slick entrance, God sees you when he gets the tight walls of ass to wrap around the other. Unbeknownst to you, it’s funny how so many things are, your blood pools around his balls. You’re in pain sure but you’ve never felt as much pleasure as you have in this instance. Both “Priests” smell your blood and well, only your body can tell the rest of the story. Later you’ll wake up to find that the building around you has ruby walls and it seems to be breathing. The shooting pain in your left hand is the result of two iron rings being chiseled into the bone of your ring finger.

The four leathery wings protruding from your back, with spikes poking out from the joints, are waiting to be discovered. As are the nubs sprouting out of your hair.

For now beads of sweat highlight your bouncing tits, Paul gropes one and Leto runs the edge of his claw along the side of the other. They’re hissing words that string together and disappear in the blink of an eye, voices slurred and sticky. Their babbling stops and starts again as you reflexively swallow around Paul’s cock when he skull fucks you without warning. They laugh too, but you can at least pretend that Leto’s tone is kinder.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough teasing.”

“But father-“

“I said no. And don’t think for a second that you’re getting anything else but their mouth.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You lack self control, it wouldn’t be suitable for conception to occur like this. As delectable as their quivering cunt is, demons shouldn’t abstain from courting.”

“You’re saying that as you’re balls deep inside of them.”

“Don’t start with me, Paul.”

All while you’re making gurgling sounds in between the younger priest’s thighs. You hear growls that sound like a mountain lion’s emitting from both men, and the heavy thumps of something flapping in the air gets you holes clenching around Leto. Both men feverishly scratch up and down your limp body, but you’re so enraptured by the chorus of angels happening outside. You have no sense of time, it’s minutes or it’s hours before their cum spills inside of you. There’s too much to possibly keep it all inside, a good amount of it leaks from your cunt and your throat. Leto feels like Christ incarnate when you squirt all over him and yourself with the dumbest expression on your face. Multicolored pieces of glass fall down around you with the loud chime of an invisible bell.

[lvsifer]

the sweet & talented @cilil tagged me on WIP Wednesday, so have a lil snipped from the next chapter of my Paul x Feyd fic <3

Feyd-Rautha lies down on the bed, closes his eyes and thinks of the boy. Reflected red light slashes the tenebrous room in half, a laceration that cuts Feyd-Rautha off by the chest. He touches where the light warms his skin just above his seventh rib and dips his fingers between his costal arches. Here. He imagines Paul’s blade push inside. He moans. “Come to me, Atreides,” Feyd-Rautha murmurs into the empty room, then throws an arm over his face, bites at his own skin enough to bruise while his free hand sinks between his legs. What if the secret door opened and the boy came to him now? Feyd-Rautha imagines Paul’s lesser weight on top of him, spreading Feyd-Rautha’s thighs.

And ALSO, this super old angbang wip from...2016..........that I will finish...some day:

Yet in gloaming Melkor had once more returned, gargantuan and of-augury. A light had shone in his eyes, both fiery and frore. Naught of offering or promises foul, only this: his hand extended, and crackling along the whiteness of his skin, power. And Mairon had taken it. For what Mairon wants is not to serve. He wants to make. Suddenly he needs not pledge himself. Nil binds him, but his own will to power. Torn from slumber, he for the first time sees, and stares into the depths of the world. And deeper than woe or servitude, cradled in igneous rock, lie his own blackening desires, clamouring for eternity. And eternal shall they be.

tagging: @sauron-kraut (i know cilil also tagged you but still <3), @jamlocked, @liesmyth, @saintstars, @crackinthecup, @curufiin @theskeletonprior

[lady-phasma]

Diplomatic relations

Feyd x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI! NSFW, spit as lube (I guess, kinda), penetration, honestly a little tame compared to my usual stuff.

The poll came in at 57% soft!Feyd so here we go. This is probably as soft as I can make him.

Summary: No physical description of reader. Feyd is on a diplomatic tour of an unnamed planet (not Caladan) under Harkonnen rule. You catch his eye, smuttiness ensues. Plot if you squint. 4k words

You looked away almost as soon as his eyes met yours. You didn’t want to be caught staring at the na-Baron. Feyd-Rautha’s presence on your planet had cause quite the uproar. Though many of the houses were pawns for the Harkonnen, some still remained who defied the colonizers. Your house couldn’t openly oppose the Harkonnen, but you knew that they were not respected. They were feared. They were fearsome after all. The na-Baron’s delegation had been sent to keep the peace, to quell uprisings, to provide confidence to the planet. You supposed it worked for some.

However, you wondered if the na-Baron was enthusiastic about his diplomatic responsibilities. He looked bored and distracted. You hadn’t thought it would be possible for him to notice one person out of the hundreds who crowded the city streets to show allegiance. But someone had caught his eye. He straightened a bit, turning his head slightly to look at you as the procession moved on. You swallowed hard and looked away again.

Your thoughts whirled and spun the rest of the day. That night, you would be in the same room as the na-Baron, possibly as close as the next table. Your house had the “honor” of hosting him on his first night in the city. You were preoccupied as you went about your errands, looked over the financial ledgers, dressed for the dinner. The hours seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly, dragging on for days.

As you walked into the main hall that evening your eyes searched for the na-Baron. You didn’t even realize you were doing it until a servant spoke to you and you hadn’t heard them. You nodded, unsure to what you were agreeing, and walked through the groups of people mingling and conversing.

You found your seat at the secondary table. The head table was reserved for the Duke and his guests. You continued to scan the room, lost in thought, unable to put your finger on why you were intrigued by the na-Baron. You barely heard the sounds around you, the chattering was a dull noise. You felt a chair pull out next to you but didn’t register who the occupant was until it was too late.

Feyd’s fingers stroked the utensils on the place setting, lightly aligning any that were askew. You looked up from his pale hands to his face. You were startled to see that he was staring at you. The Harkonnen skin and hairlessness were disarming amidst the bright colors of the hall.

“You must be old enough to know that it is rude to stare,” Feyd smirked as he spoke. “Surely you have seen a Harkonnen envoy before?”

“I- I-“ you stumbled over your tongue, then swallowed. “Yes, my Lord na-baron, I have seen such an envoy before.”

“And?” Feyd stretched the word out.

“Yes, I came of age last year and I know my manners,” you replied. You straightened your shoulders, squared them, and turned to face him more fully. “Did you need assistance to find your seat?”

Feyd laughed. His black teeth caught the light and you stopped a gasp before it could leave your mouth. They were almost horrible to look at, but the lips that surrounded them dulled that impression, somewhat.

The laugh was mocking but amused. He understood your tone as well as your impertinence. His blue eyes on you sent a chill down your spine. Almost as quickly as the laugh had appeared, it was gone. The grin that replaced it was somehow worse.

“No,” he spoke so lowly that it sounded as if the words rumbled from his chest. “No, I believe I already found my seat.”

There was no one on the planet who could make him move and the Duke was too subservient to object. Resigned, you turned back to the table and sipped your wine. All of your emotions mixed together: anger at his presumption, mild fear of his capabilities, and, strangest of all, curiosity. This man was intriguing and intensely attractive in a completely mad way.

Your food was unremarkable and you barely noticed if you had eaten any or not when they carried the plates away. Your dinner companion barely spoke at all. His interactions with the nobility were perfunctory and diplomatic. There was constantly an air of boredom about him. As imperious as he seemed, you didn’t think that this detachment was intentional. He understood his role here, his duty, but his thoughts were constantly elsewhere.

Only once during dinner did you interact with Feyd. Purely by accident, you turned to him to ask a very discourteous question. You caught yourself but he saw your face and wouldn’t let you go. Like an animal in a trap.

“How may I be of service?” His grin was infuriating. Without context, anyone looking on would think he was being as pleasant as was possible for him.

“It was nothing,” you tried not to spit the words at him, irrationally angry at that grin.

“No, please,” he leaned forward onto his elbows, grin falling just a bit as he dropped his voice. “Go ahead. I won’t command you, but I could.”

Your eyes widened at this, this threat. Was it a threat or a jest? You couldn’t read that infernal mouth. You made your face a mask, attempting to conceal any emotion.

“You could…” you began. “However, that shouldn’t be necessary.” Your chest began to tighten as you spoke. The feeling in your stomach wasn’t new but you hadn’t felt this in a long time. You felt like, no, it wasn’t possible… You felt as if you were flirting with him, and he with you.

“I was going to ask, Lord na-Baron, what is it you would rather be doing that sitting here? It’s a rather improper question, so I bit my tongue.” The truth seemed like the only way out of this trap.

You did not expect his smile to fall completely. Only for the briefest of moments he let his surprise show. He recovered and quipped back at you.

“Quite improper, but my answer would be much more so.” He grinned and leaned back in his chair, feeling he had won this round. A blush ran up your face, evidence of his victory.

After the Duke and his retinue offered the required pleasantries and excused themselves, the guests rose and began to leave the main hall. You stood before Feyd and succeeded in not looking at him as you began to walk away.

As you turned down the passageway, headed to your quarters, you heard heavy footfalls behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and the tightness in your stomach redoubled. There were only a few of the household staff remaining in the halls. You were nearly alone with the na-Baron. Your mind offered, unbidden, the word exhilarating.

His strides were long enough that he caught up with you in little time. His height was impressive after having been sitting next to him. Not much taller than yourself but tall enough to command attention.

“Were you tired of my company?” One corner of his lip curled in a smirk. “Or were you nervous I might answer your impertinent question?”

You stopped walking at this. He turned and looked at you, studying you.

“No, my Lord na-Baron,” you replied levelly. “I could not tell which you enjoyed more: my company or mocking me.”

His smile faltered then grew. You assumed no one ever told him the truth. You knew you could become afraid of him, perhaps should be, but you weren’t yet. Two chattering guests walked past and you moved to the edge of the hallway to let them pass.

Feyd stepped past you and leaned against the wall, his long coat belying the muscular figure underneath. Your breathing became shallow. His proximity to you was informal. It was unnerving. You couldn’t know what he was thinking and his smile was always simultaneously pleasant and malicious.

“Your confusion shows on your face,” he whispered. “What are you trying to discern?”

“Well, um, you, Lord na-Baron,” you dropped your gaze from his. “I do not yet know if I can trust you.”

Feyd dipped his head to meet your eyes and force you to look at him. He was barely smiling at all. His brows furrowed earnestly.

“You can trust me. I am only ever what I seem. I am an open book to any who care to read closely,” he whispered, mere inches from your face. He straightened and your eyes followed his. “Those who see that, don’t often call me ‘na-Baron’ every time they speak. Though I understand the risk one takes with using my name. I am quite…. impulsive.” And that smile again. This time with a touch of fondness in his eyes that suggested he was recalling a pleasant memory. Though you couldn’t imagine that murdering someone for using your given name would be pleasant. From what you knew of Feyd, he probably had done just such a thing.

“How might those who ‘read closely’ decipher your enigmatic smile?” Finding your voice, you spoke directly at him. This made him grin even more, showing his black teeth.

“Perhaps that may always be a game of guessing,” he quipped back. He took a step away from you and waited for you to follow. Your heart was almost pounding in your chest. You walked beside him, but allowing yourself to have some distance to think by staying one step behind. You tried not to stare at the slope of his head down to his neck, his hands, the only visible parts of his body. But they seemed to glow against the black cloth of his coat.

Neither of you spoke for a moment. The silence was tense but not uncomfortable. You weren’t sure you could guess anything about him. Your first appraisal of him may have been entirely incorrect, or mostly.

The main house sprawled, much like a palace though more understated. You knew the halls and passages by heart, but you weren’t guiding Feyd. You followed him without thinking. Your instinct told you to gather yourself and head directly to your chambers without a backward glance. Your curiosity was stronger than your instinct. Curious about him, yes, but also curious as to why he was so interested in you.

Feyd didn’t stop as he opened the door and entered his room. You paused, waiting for an invitation. He held the door and looked at you, no expression on his face. Your choice he seemed to suggest. He didn’t hold out his hand in a welcoming gesture either. You took one more breath to make your decision.

His room was probably a drastic change for him from his home on Giedi Prime. He had been given a guest room fitting of his station. The sumptuous fabrics and ornate furniture were more grand than those in your own quarters. You paused near the middle of the room. If he sat you would join him. He didn’t.

He stepped in front of you, looking, not speaking, and you felt that damnable blush rise to your cheeks again.

“If I may,” he began. “I’ll answer your question.”

You tried to nod but couldn’t. Your mouth was as dry as Arrakis.

“No, I did not want to be trapped at that farce, the quiet tension so palpable one could cut it with a knife. I was thinking of all the things I had in mind for you.” He took a small step forward and tilted your face up to his, fingers guiding your chin. His eyes were fierce and you saw no mocking in his slight smile now.

“Then you were correct, your answer would have been quite improper,” you managed to reply, mustering the last of your propriety.

“Yes,” he drawled. “Yes, then it would have been improper, but we’re alone now.” He swept his hand, indicating the empty room but he didn’t look away from you. He didn’t wait for your to respond. “You aren’t deferential to me like the others in your house. You are… intriguing. As I sat next to you, I decided I wanted you and I get what I want. Always.”

Your body tensed as he leaned forward and kissed you. At first you were rigid, unsure of what you truly wanted, but as one of his hands found the back of your neck you realized you had actually wanted this all along. Still wary of him, you kissed him back but did not move to touch him. His other hand slid to your waist and gripped you firmly, fingers digging into your flesh through your clothing. You exhaled and softened in his arms. You felt his smile against your lips. You assumed it was a triumphant grin but set your pride aside and opened your mouth to him.

Feyd’s tongue slipped into your mouth. His hand gripped the back of your neck harder. You placed your hands on his chest, tentatively, testing this new closeness. He slid his hand from your side to your back and pulled you in closer. You didn’t want the kiss to end but he pulled away and looked at you.

“Was that so bad?” he ask, finally without a grin.

You could only shake your head as your heart thumped in your chest. You moved your hands upward, slowly, to his neck. Using both your hands, you pulled him back down to your mouth. A small groan left his mouth and he pressed his body against yours. You licked his black teeth, growing braver. You still felt hesitant, nervous, even a little frightened. You had experience, you weren’t shy, but those were with people from your home planet. He was a Harkonnen. Completely hairless, scarily pale, and notoriously cruel. Something about the combination of those thoughts made you press against him in return.

His lips left your mouth and he drug them along your jaw, down your neck, the graze of teeth making you shiver. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, resisting the need to move your hips against him. Patience, you thought.

Without warning, Feyd let you go. Suddenly, his arms were gone. Then he spun you around so your back pressed into his chest. He wasn’t going to be patient. He clamped one hand on your throat and rested the other on the lowest part of your stomach. His lips grazed your ear and his breath was hot as he spoke.

“Are you going to give me what I want?”

“Yes,” you replied though you weren’t sure the sound was audible.

“Say my name.”

“Yes, Feyd,” you swallowed, feeling his hand move on your throat as you did. “Anything you want.”

He chuckled at this, the sound vibrating into you from his chest. His grip on your throat wasn’t tight but it held you in place as he slid his hand farther down your stomach. You didn’t let yourself moan as his hand grazed your thigh but you involuntarily moved your hips. You didn’t want him to take his time. Your need was getting the better of you. This seemed to be happening so fast, yet it had truly begun at dinner. Your desire had been growing with every step toward this room.

Feyd kissed just behind your ear, down your neck, as his hand dipped between your thighs. You knew he could feel your arousal even through your clothing. You wanted to push against his hand and gain more friction. He continued to tease, up and down, but then his hand slipped under your clothing. His touch on your bare skin elicited a groan from you. He released your throat and used both hands to free you from the garments.

You were momentarily embarrassed at your sudden nakedness but that was pushed out of your thoughts when he put his mouth on your shoulder blades, kissing each in turn. You began to turn to face him but he stilled you with his hands. You looked over your shoulder as he tossed his coat onto a chair and pulled his shirt over his head. He was actually magnificent you realized. He was hailed as a great fighter but you understood now it was more than skill, it was also strength. You watched him take his place behind you again then turned to face front once more.

You realized Feyd wasn’t just clever, he was always a step ahead of everyone. When you had entered the room you had been so anxious that you only took a cursory glance around the space. However, he had maneuvered you to stand in front of the bed. Now that you saw it, your breath caught in your throat. He was kissing your spine, your ribs, letting his hands explore everywhere but where you needed him. You took a deep breath and instead of the exhale you expected you moaned. He kissed his way up your back and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“I take it you are no longer confused by me?”

“Quite the opposite,” you replied. You moved your hands behind you, finding his hips, and pulled him to you, back to chest again. It was infuriating that he still had his pants on. You slipped your fingertips under the waistband. Even half-clothed his erection was obvious against your backside.

Feyd gently pressed your arms to your sides and you felt immediate disappointment. But then he began to unfasten his pants. The heat from your body flooded to your core. The need, the ache, that had been growing there was now fully aflame. You felt one of his hands rest gently on your hip when he came back to you. Seeming to keep a bit of space between, you he guided your forward until you were only inches from the bed. His hand slid up your side, to your chest encircling you. You sighed again. His mouth explored and made its way back to your ear.

“Lick,” he commanded, holding his other hand in front of your face. It took a moment for you to understand and another moment for you to summon the courage to follow the command. He made you feel things you didn’t know existed. In a spilt second he made you feel like you were doing something wonderful yet illicit. It thrilled you and, as soon as your brain sent the signal, you lapped at his palm. He made a sound like a chuckle, but deeper. You pleased him.

You couldn’t see but you heard Feyd stroke his cock with his recently wetted hand. You whined. Not a moan but an actual, involuntary whine. The waiting was excruciating even if you couldn’t predict his actions, whatever was to come would surely feel amazing.

Feyd’s hand moved from your chest around to your back, rested gently between your shoulder blades, and began to press you forward. With your heart racing you leaned forward, placing your hands on the bed.

“Such a good pet,” he growled. You would have blushed if there had been any blood left in your body. It was currently all pooled in your core, throbbing with that need for him. He slid his hand down your back and gripped your hip. After what seemed like an eternity, you felt his cock between your thighs. You couldn’t control yourself and you pushed back a bit, trying to feel more of him. He gently held you in place. He moved so slowly, teasing you with his length. When he had the angle he wanted he put his hand on your other hip and pressed against you.

It was so slow. Every movement was wonderful torture. You tried not to push against him, so you pressed your face against the bed and groaned. He pulled back and began pressing into you again. You realized he hadn’t yet given you his full length and you gasped as he bottomed out. Over your breathing you heard the most delicious sound come from him. It was a groan, perhaps a word, but certainly a sound of extreme pleasure. Now, you did push back into him.

You looked over your shoulder as you ground your hips slightly and his eyes were open, watching your ass. His eyes were heavy-lidded and his mouth was slightly open. You had never seen anything so beautiful, so unique, in your life. Before you could appreciate him any longer he pulled back, started a new stroke, and caught your eye. He winked at you, cocky yet comforting.

You couldn’t take it, you buried your face in the bed clothes, overcome with desire. This man was your undoing. Just as that thought flickered in your mind Feyd increased his pace. With steady movement he brought forth a litany of noises from you. As he sped up you moaned and pushed back onto him. His low, rumbling groans were intoxicating.

Feyd’s hands roamed up from your hips, over your back, around to your stomach, ceaselessly exploring you. When he leaned forward, pressing his stomach along your back you reached behind you and grasped his arm. Pulling him down on you by his forearm, then traveling up to his bicep. Your fingers dug into his muscle His rested his forehead against your shoulder.

You felt the pressure building in your core from the consistent rhythm. You were lightheaded, dizzy with the feeling of Feyd’s weight on top of you, his scent, his sounds. Then a brightness shot through the fog as he reached around you and stroked the center of your heat. You made an undignified sound.

“Please, yes, there,” you groaned, unable to decide if you wanted to press forward into his hand or back to meet his hips. “Please, Feyd, don’t stop.”

“Of course not,” he replied as he kissed your shoulder and stoked the heat in your belly. He growled against you as he sped up. Pounding into you, his hand between your legs, his body pressed against yours, Feyd dominated all of your senses. You had no thoughts. Only the growing pressure inside you.

“Wait for me,” he said quietly but firmly. You could barely nod, much less speak to answer him, as all your concentration was focused on holding back the cresting wave.

Feyd’s strokes were deep but quick. He grazed his teeth over your skin. His unoccupied hand dug into your hip so he could fuck you that much harder. Then you felt it. The stutter of his hips. His hand between your thighs sped up. A flood of heat ran over your entire body. At the same time, your core seemed to explode. His grunting made you cum that much harder.

He let out a final, deep moan, mingled with your name, and spilled his black seed inside you. You inhaled shakily, smiling to yourself. The lightheadedness was back and you felt emptied, completely hollowed out. You stayed still as he caught his breath. You tried to relax as he pulled out, but were unable to stifle a small gasp. You were ruined but never wanted this to end.

Feyd gently stroked your back and then began to guide you up, almost lifting you from the bed. When you were standing in front of him he kissed you on the forehead, then the lips. With his hand on the small of you back he led you to the side of the bed. He didn’t instruct you to lay down, you didn’t have a choice. There was no way you could remain standing on your shaking legs any longer. He covered you with the blanket then stepped away for a moment. Unable to keep your eyes open you listened for him.

He soon walked to the other side of the bed and slipped into it, pulling you against him. He tucked you as close to him as possible. He kissed your neck. Then nuzzled his face against you before resting his head close enough so you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

“I always get what I want,” he whispered. Your lips curved into a gentle, satisfied smile.

[nyrasproblm]

For you to stay with me

dark!Paul Atreides x reader (fremen)

note: Chani is not Paul's lover in this story, but the reader! I created this story based on Crimson Peak's dialogue from the list of phrases I took from this post.

Word Count: 0,5K

Warning: angst, poisoning, possessive behavior, attempted manipulation

You walked aimlessly through the corridors of the Palace, your vision blurred by tears, your steps not so steady. You walked as fast as possible, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You wanted to summon a shai-hulud and head out into the desert, but you couldn't do that in your current state of health.

You tried to breathe properly, but instead you just sobbed, reality crashing down on you more severely with each passing minute. Some servants passed by you with worried or scared expressions, but they didn't say anything and just walked on.

You tried to walk faster but you felt dizzy, so you let out a groan of frustration and placed your hands on your knees, taking a deep breath. The moment was interrupted when two thin, slightly calloused hands held you and guided you to lean against a wall.

Paul.

He made you lean your back against the wall as you tried to free yourself. He held your hands tightly inside his, towards your chin. You were in such bad health that you hadn't even heard him approaching.

"Calm down, calm down, please." he spoke in a soft voice, which you now knew was just a facade.

You moaned weakly at the pain of the grip on your wrists and continued trying to free yourself uselessly, tears now flowing freely down your face. You let out a painful sob and felt your knees weaken.

"Let's talk, calm down." Paul speaks again and you turn tearful eyes to him.

"Talk? How can you ask me that?" you twist your wrists in a frustrated attempt to free yourself. "Let go of me!"

Paul was poisoning you. He knew you wouldn't accept being his concubine after he married Princess Irulan, he knew you would leave and might never see you again. He asked you for some time to talk a few weeks ago and you accepted after much insistence from him, but the conversation ended up being postponed and you remained in the Arrakis palace for longer.

Every time you thought about leaving, Paul found a way to distract you and make you change your mind, and when he started failing to convince you to stay, you started to feel really bad about your health. You felt dizzy, weak bones, some pain, so it was difficult to get to the desert to summon a sandworm.

You would suspect that it was due to the food or the environment, after all you have been used to being exposed to the spice throughout your life and being in an environment with almost no spice could have induced this effect. Well, that could be it, but wasn't.

You knew you shouldn't listen, but you arrived early at Paul's boardroom and overheard him talking to his mother, openly admitting that he had been poisoning you by putting the substance in your food and drink for weeks. He looked scared while he was telling you this, you tried to get out of there but you made noise and he heard you.

"Be reasonable." he begged while still holding your wrists tightly.

"You lied to me." you sniffed

"I did."

"You poisoned me!"

"I did."

"You told me you loved me!"

"I do." you looked into Paul’s pleading eyes. "I do." he repeated.

You tried to pull away, your wrists already sore from his grip, but you felt another dizziness and your consciousness slowly left you.

[jointherebellion215]

Flowers

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.5k

TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??

A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.

Read Part One and Part Two

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

Lily white and poppy red

I trembled when he laid me out

“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”

Nothing gonna wake you now

Drops of blood. 

A wicked, black smile.

“You won’t feel a thing.” 

You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.

The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.

On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.

That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.

While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.

You are a Harkonnen now.

Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.

Your husband wouldn’t allow that.

Dreams are sweet, until they’re not

Men are kind, until they aren’t

Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart

“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”

You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.

You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.

“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”

His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.

“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I know you don’t, my darling.”

You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.

“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”

Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.

Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”

You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.

“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“

“She did.”

He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”

You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid. 

Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.

“I only want what’s best for you.”

You understand now.

Is anybody listening?

I open my mouth and nothing comes out

Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.

Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.

“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.

Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.

“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.

“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”

Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.

“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”

There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.

You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”

Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.

Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.

Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.

Flowers, I remember field of flowers

Soft beneath my heels

Walking in the sun, I remember someone

Someone by my side, turned his face to mine

The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.

A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—

You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.

A laugh, familiar and warm—

A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.

Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—

The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.

A kiss, given freely—

Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.

My darling—

My love—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

My darling—

“Is everything alright, my darling?”

You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?

Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

You give a bright smile.

If you ever walk this way

Come and find me lying in the bed I made

[aviawrites]

the rage of a harkonnen (dune: part two)

pairings: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Fem!Reader

summary: The Emperor’s second born daughter, Harauna, has never been truly seen by her father; Her light always being dimmed by the shine of her older sister, Irulan. As Maud’Dib continues fighting on Arrakis and her father’s spot falls farther into jeopardy, Princess Harauna sees an opportunity to finally find her place in the Imperium…Wife of the possible Emperor, ruling alongside Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. (3.9k)

a/n: i’ve already seen this movie twice and i’m going again😛 austin’s performance is so compelling, i couldn’t take my eyes off of him whenever he was on screen. i hope you all liked feyd-rautha as much as i do…otherwise i may be crazy. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: blood, death, abuse

in this story, yn is: Harauna Corrino (Harkonnen)

10191 // month 1 // 📍kaitan 

“Paul Atreides is not our only prospect.” Reverend Mother Mohiam reveals, standing before you and your sister. “The Baron’s youngest nephew, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, will inherit Arrakis. He may be the answer.”

Your eyes open wide, the name itself sending shivers down your spine. You, along with all of your family, knew of Feyd-Rautha - Knew of the Sadistic Harkonnen, known for slaughtering anyone who challenges him, even his own people. 

“Feyd-Rautha?” Irulan furrows her brows, “He’s psychotic.”

“That’s irrelevant. The question is…can we control him?” 

You stare up at the Reverend Mother’s black veil, an idea striking you.  

Since a child, it’s always been Princess Irulan - The Emperor’s daughter. Irulan will inherit the thrones, Irulan will marry Paul Atreides, Irulan will rule the empire. Never once has your father taken the time to look at you. Never once has he asked the Reverend Mother how you are as a Bene Gesserit. If he did, he’d come to learn that you’re just as equipped to take on the role of Empress as your sister. 

You know what you know - You know how impossible it is to ever be worthy of attention in your father’s eyes. The sound of marrying the prince, possibly the future Emperor, doesn’t seem distasteful. Is he a terrible man, yes. May he turn out to be a worse husband, yes. But God forgive you if you choose being the possible ruler of the empire over being second best. 

“I will marry Feyd-Rautha…” You suggest, coming out as more of a squeak. 

Their eyes dart to yours, Irulan’s gaze feeling more like knives piercing your head.

“Young Harauna-“

“No.” Your sister interjects, turning your body toward hers. “Are you crazy? Feyd-Rautha is the last man you need to marry.”

“Irulan, I want to.” You push back, your voice low. “He may be Emperor one day, we need to secure that opportunity. Do we not, Reverend Mother?”

“We absolutely do, Harauna.”

Irulan’s jaw hangs open, looking between the two of you.

“Are you serious? Reverend Mother, you know Feyd-Rautha. You’ve seen him with your own eyes - You want Hara anywhere near that?”

“She’s thinking of the Imperium, Irulan. Should Paul Atreides be alive, he will want the throne.”

“Feyd-Rautha won’t go down without a fight…” You finish for her.

“Precisely. If he loses, Paul will have a bride awaiting him.” She gestures to your sister. “But if he reigns supreme, he’ll have a Corrino by his side.”

Irulan only shakes her head, disbelief glossing in her eyes. 

“Hara…”

“Sister, I need to do this.” You whisper, softly squeezing her hands. “I can’t make decisions like you…I’m not you.”

“W- What does that mean, Hara? I don’t understand-“

“If I get in line for the throne…” You begin. “If I secure a spot for myself in the Empire, I will be nearly equal to you in father’s eyes. I’ll mean something to someone.”

A tear threatens to fall as she struggles to find words. 

“You mean something to me.” She shrugs, now wondering if that holds any value to you. “If I lose you to the Harkonnens…If I have to stay here alone while you’re on Giedi Prime I don’t know how I’ll-“ She quickly wipes her eyes, taking a breath. “I don’t know how I’ll survive this impending war without you, Hara.”

You tilt your head, bringing your hand to Irulan’s cheek. 

“Write to me, Irulan.” You smile, forcing back your own tears as you solidify this departure in your head. “Send messages to Giedi Prime, will you? Write them like you do your entries and I swear to you I’ll read each one. No matter what happens with the Harkonnen’s, I’ll always have my sister back home on my side, right?”  

A thick silence falls upon the three of you, Irulan fighting between perplex and terror as her hands began to quiver in yours.

“I’ll alert the Emperor.” Reverend Mother says, leaving the two of you.

Alone, your sister pulls you into an embrace, one of the tighter ones. She allows her tears to land on your garments, her shoulders trembling as small whimpers escape her lips.

“Don’t do this, Hara.”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

“On your birthday of all days. The Baron should know better than to jeopardize his soon to be Planetary Governor in such a public manner. You could’ve died.” 

“I would not have died.” Your husband fiddles with his blade.

“All slaves should be drugged, should they not?” You remind him. “It’d have taken only one swift slash of the Atreides’ blade and The Baron would’ve lost his heir. He’s insane.”

“Careful, wife.” He warns, “The Baron is flawed but his promises are rich.”

“What could he possibly promise you that’s more important than the entirety of this planet?”

He stares, his eyes scanning you up and down as a small smirk grows on his face. 

“The entirety of Arrakis.” 

Creases form on your forehead, your words coming out as stammers.

“…He promises you…Arrakis?”

“If I manage to control spice production.” He explains, reveling in your dumbfounded expression. 

Your mind immediately imagines your life on Arrakis, a fate you’ve never considered. The plan was to marry Feyd-Rautha, be by his side when he defeats his opponents, have your father kneel to him, and rule the Imperium from the planet of the Harkonnens. But now, thoughts of working from the dune covered planet makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. 

“But-“ You clear your throat, “Um - Is that not Rabban’s job?”

“Rabban failed.” He seethes. “He humiliates house Harkonnen with each Fremen attack he allows. With me ruling the mission, there will be no more.”

“What’s the plan? Once you’re on Arrakis who’s to say my father won’t order you out? What if he doesn’t like how you handle-“

“The Emperor has a set fate too, Harauna. If we were to expose what he did to the Atreides’, the houses would explode. A rise against the Emperor would ensue.” He nears you, looking down at your wide eyes as he bares his blackened mouth. “The throne would be ours to take.”

You don’t know if he meant to admit to what he’s admitted to. Though, you have no doubt he’d tell you his plans to kill your father to your face, indifferent to what you might think. But even Feyd-Rautha should have some sort of limit, shouldn’t he?

“Feyd…” You murmur, “What will happen to him? What will happen to my house? My Reverend Mother, my sisters? They’re innocent they don’t deserve-“

He rolls his eyes, turning away in the midst of your oration. “Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He returns to his spot across the room. “If you want to sit next to me as Empress, I suggest you straighten out a bit, hm?”

10191 // month 3 // 📍giedi prime

14 hours later 

Feyd-Rautha’s room reeks of deceased Harkonnen bodies and dried blood as you storm in, a scowl on your face. 

Inside, you see your husband squatted by a dead servant, one that if you look too close you may realize is an acquaintance of yours. 

‘FEYD-RAUTHA RABBA HARKO-‘ He’s carved into her pale white skin, his letters bleeding into each other.

The Princess Harauna 3 months ago would scream at the sight. She’d turn and run, alerting her Reverend Mother and father that a cold blooded murderer has gotten into your home. Only…this is home. The man carving names into bodies isn’t a stranger, not an intruder, but the man you married. 

Though you’re not sure he knows it, seeing as you can practically taste the Bene Gesserit on him.

You shove, hard, knocking Feyd-Rautha off balance and onto the concrete floor.

“What the-

“Seriously!?” You shout, watching his bewildered expression looking back at you. “You’ve not been of age for one whole day and you’ve already betrayed me!”

“You watch yourself, woman.” He warns you, spite in his eyes. 

“I can smell her on you.” You say, knowing all of the signs of a Bene Gesserit’s work, and a sexually vulnerable Feyd-Rautha. “She could be carrying your child!”

Your husband quickly calms himself, seemingly deciding not to waste energy on someone like you. On someone like his wife.

“Would you stop that yelling?” He mumbles, turning and beginning to smear the blood across the mutilated arm.

“How dare you.” You scoff. “I’m meant to be your princess. I’m meant to be your queen Feyd-Rautha! Not some girl who was on a mission. A Bene Gesserit who was here to test you and didn’t want you for more than one night-“

“You’re not any better!” He rises, his demeanor changing like night and day in a split second. 

The minute he gets angry, his energy dominates the room. “Don’t you ever think you’re a better woman for being a power hungry leech who called dibs on the heir before anyone else.” He jabs, lowering until he’s in your face. 

Your jaw hangs open, offense quickly overpowering the fear that you often feel in the presence of an angry Feyd-Rautha. Or any Feyd-Rautha, at that. 

“I don’t need you.” Your eyes pierce his, flames igniting in yours. “I’m the Emperor’s daughter, I was second in line for the throne. If anything, you needed me to get to where you-“

The wind is knocked out of you as your husband grabs your neck, instantly cutting off your words. He grins, nearly frothing at the mouth as he always does at the slightest hint of violence. He feeds off of violence, in the face of which most people quiver he greets it with a big smile, he yearns for violence, he is violence.

“I needed you, huh?” His face about brushes yours, his saliva dripping onto you. “I wasn’t at home being neglected by daddy, Harauna. I wasn’t the second choice. I didn’t need to marry to get power. I wasn’t worthless.” 

He’s entranced, his hand on your throat tightening with each sentence until you’re sure it’ll snap. You claw at his stained hands, collecting the blood of his servants under your nails.

“Husband-“ You croak, feeling the pressure in your head increase.

Feyd-Rautha only smiles, adrenaline rushing throughout him as he contemplates letting this be the end of you. Maybe he should rid himself of this royal burden before she sits with him at the top.

“Know your place, princess.” He whispers before letting you go with a shove. 

You drop to the floor, crashing into the bloody bodies on the ground and fighting for your pipes to reopen. You frantically heave as he looks down at you once more, evil in his eyes, before he leaves you where you are. 

Weeps escape you, feeling selfish as you cry in the presence of women who got it much worse. 

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you. Nevertheless, in times like this, the possibility of being ruler of the Imperium outweighs the possibility of dying due to your attempts. 

“Be the worst position in the highest room.” Your father used to tell you, “For some never make it to the room.”

10191 // month 4 // 📍starship 

The low hum of the frigate gives the cold ambience some character. Rabban lounges across the kitchen table, his feet up on the marble. Your husband sits a few chairs down from you, sheathing and unsheathing his blade, creating a repetitive sound for the two of you to suffer through.

“Princess Harauna.” You hear as the grand doors within the starship open. A servant enters, seemingly a younger version of the Baron, with a thin metal tube in his hand. 

The big man hands it to you, bowing slightly before shuffling away.

“Say thanks to the piggy.” Feyd-Rautha teases, a devilish grin on his face.

Rabban slightly chuckles as you eye your husband, sighing before opening the letter.

“To my sister, Hara.” 

Your eyes gleam, seeming to scan faster and faster the more and more you read. The two men in the room with you don’t seem to notice, mindlessly engaging in their own boredom as the ship heats up in the weather of Arrakis. 

You shut the tube with a click, looking down at it as you weakly attempt to process what you’ve just read.  

“Paul Atreides…is coming.” You reveal, catching the attention of Rabban and Feyd-Rautha. “He makes his way from the south.”

“Paul Atreides is dead.” Rabban corrects you. 

“He didn’t die in the attack-“

“I know that, woman!” He abruptly shouts, banging the table. “I saw to it myself, him and his mother died in the-“

“Sandstorm.” You finish, much quieter than he began. “But he didn’t.”

Your husband has turned his body toward you, now intently listening.

“They live - And they challenge my father now.” You look up at the two of them, “Him. He must be this Maud’Dib, this Lisan-Al-Gaib. Who else would it be?”

“Wait,” Feyd speaks up, “Challenge your father for what, exactly?”

You meet his gaze before reopening the letter, searching for the Irulan’s line on the challenge:

Paul Atreides will arrive unannounced when we land in Arrakis in a challenge for the throne.

Rabban shakes his head. “There’s no longer a need for the Emperor on Arrakis.” He misses the point, “We’ve got the spice production under control. The old bastard can stay home.”

Feyd-Rautha leans his elbows in his knees, looking up at you with that same evil look he gets whenever a dangerous plan arises.

“Atreides’,” He thinks aloud, “They’re little rats. Insects that keep popping up no matter how many times you exterminate.”

“Should I alert the Baron?” Rabban asks, speaking quicker than his acute brain can think. 

“You will do no such thing.” Feyd demands, conjuring up his plan in his much more suitable brain. “Since the Emperor is deciding to pay us a visit despite the work l've done here…Maybe the Atreides' will do the bloody work for us. Keep us in the good graces of the Great Houses."

Bloody work, he says. The exposure and diminishing of your father’s name he means. 

“Brother.” Rabban counters, “The Atreides’ - The Fremen - They’ll have us outnumbered. Uncle should be aware-“

“You will do no such thing.” His brother orders, now loosely pointing his blade toward Rabban. “The throne is mine therefore the throne is yours. The Baron won’t make Harkonnen the greatest house, brother. I will” He leers.

“Husband,” You voice reason, seeing all of the ways you could lose your promised spot to this scheme. “If it comes to a fight and Paul beats you-“

“He won’t beat me.”

“But if this challenge doesn’t go our way,” You hypothesize, “We could lose everything. Paul Atreides won’t let my father live, not after what he’s done. My family will hold no power, my sister will be-“

"I will remain unharmed, will I not? As will my brother.” He redirects. “Are we not your biggest concern anymore? Are we not your family, Harauna?" 

…

The ship gets hotter and hotter as you near Arrakeen. Feyd-Rautha meddles with his torso buttons on the opposite side of the room as you stare at the screen in your bedroom, broadcasting the sandy terrain of the new planet.

“What would your plans be as Emperor, Feyd-Rautha?” You query, eyes locked on the family owned land.

He sighs as he always does when you open your mouth, as if nothing his wife says is worthwhile. 

“Princess Harauna asks too many questions.” He repeats.

“Just answer me…Please.” You urge, the question having appeared in your mind minutes ago and hasn’t stopped nagging since. 

“What do you think my plans are, princess?” He turns toward you, his dark and threatening eyes seeming to dim the entire room. “I’m going to make the entire Imperium Harkonnen. Our family will be the most powerful spice harvesters anyone’s ever seen.” He begins, “I’ll give my Empress a child, grow our empire, and teach my princeling how to rule.”

You listen intently, trying your hardest to envision your life going from Princess of Kaitan, to wife of the heir, to Empress of the Imperium beside Feyd-Rautha, of all men.

Be the worst position in the highest room.

Your husband goes on. “Caladan will be a thing of the past. Atreides will be a thing of the past. Harkonnen will be the great house and any others will just be…Maud’Dib.” He chuckles.

“‘Your Empress’...” You point out, never having heard your name. You only wish to hear where you and your family stand in his master plan. “Would it be me?”

He gives you his undivided attention, letting go of his leather vest. “Why must you talk so much about things that don’t matter?” He asks, true indifference and apathy in his tone.

For some never make it to the room.

“…Is it me or no one?” You speak up, your voice frantically running before your mind can catch up. “Is it me or death, Feyd-Rautha?”

Your attitude shifts in the middle of your sentence as you realize where you’ve heard these exact words before.

“You or no one, Irulan.” Your father would say, stroking your sister’s hair while the rest of you sat and waited for nothing. 

Never in your life did you plan to sit in a Harkonnen’s bedroom and beg for his approval. For his confirmation that you were his. 

But here you are, begging the worst of men to love you the way The Emperor never did. The way he never will. 

“In two moons I will be Emperor.” Feyd-Rautha strides toward you, holding your hands in his as he bores. “Harauna Harkonnen will be next to me.”

A smile grows wide on your face; An odd, yet full, feeling of acceptance spiraling throughout you.

His eyes suddenly seem to get even darker as his grip on your hands morphs into a crushing clutch. “For as long as she knows her place, she will remain.”

Ice replaces the once warm feeling in your veins. Your smile fades as his grows, watching the fear in you rise with each squeeze of your fingers. Tears form in your eyes as the reality of your situation sets in once more as it has over and over since you step foot on Giedi Prime.

But you don’t dare complain. For you asked for this. Your sister warned you, your logic warned you.

10191 // month 4 // 📍arrakeen

two days later

You all stand completely still, your heartbeat seeming to be louder than the atomics outside of the Emperor’s structure. Inside the ring of Sardukaur lies your family; Irulan hiding behind your father as Maud’Dib, in front of your eyes, holds a blade over the Baron.

You and Feyd-Rautha stand alone across the walkway, your husband seemingly hypnotized by Paul Atreides as he plunges it into his uncles neck. Your hand resting on Feyd’s lower back vibrates as his breathing heavies, being just as amazed by Paul as you are. 

The both of your mouths hang open, and for once, you and your husband seem to be on the same page. Paul begins barking orders at your father as you bring your lips to Feyd’s ear, speaking in a hushed whisper to not interfere with the daring Paul Maud’Dib.

“In the event of your death…” You begin. He slightly cocks his head toward you, listening. “Would you have me marry him?”

Paul gives one last daring look at the sea of people standing against him, though, he seems as fearless as your husband as his expression never wavers from stone. 

“Is he worthy?”

Feyd-Rautha doesn’t so much as flinch at your comment, new, for a man like him. You can’t help but believe it’s because you’re right. The na-Baron recognizes that the viciousness that is Paul Atreides, no matter how unexpected, is a perfect match for him. A perfect match for his wife. 

Is he wrong to admit that if not him, Paul may be the closest thing to fit to be Emperor of the universe?

…

You’ve never laid eyes on a fight so glorious. The two most powerful and ferocious men on Arrakis clinking their blades again and again in a battle for the throne. 

The room falls silent as your husband lodges his sword into Paul, holding him close as one of the two release an animalistic roar. His mother stands, his Fremen’s mouths hang agape, your husband just hardly smiles at you over his shoulder. 

You can’t help but feel a sense of dread boiling in your stomach. Yes - You want Feyd-Rautha to reign supreme. Yes, you want to be Empress. But as you watch the devilish sneer on his face fill out as Paul’s blood stains his pasty hand, your heart seems to be pulling you in another direction. You’ve always been quite talented at telling good from bad; But Maud’Dib, you can’t seem to figure out. He lays in the gray area in between the two, you determine. 

Your reflection is quickly halted as the squelching sound of an edge piercing skin fills the room. You sway to the side, eyes wide as you see Paul’s hand gripping the handle, the rest buried into your husband’s heart. 

A gasp escapes many in the room, you included as a hand flies to your mouth. You and your father very well may be the only people in the room who are rooting for Feyd-Rautha. Knowing this, the smiles that sprinkle themselves on attendants throughout the room quickly after the inhale isn’t unanticipated. 

“You…” His raspy voice is almost too quiet for you to catch as he fights for each breath. “You fought well…Atreides.”

He slowly turns his head just far enough to have you in his sight. Even in death, Feyd-Rautha remains as menacing as the day you first met him. 

He has no words for you. He only bares that stupid, prideful, blackened smile that got him stabbed in the first place. 

You seem in a trance as you watch his body thud to the floor, looking as lifeless as the women on his bedroom floor back home. 

“Lisan-Al-Gaib!” A Fremen leader calls, breaking the silence as his people repeat after him.

Paul Atreides, Feyd-Rautha’s murderer, rises. He limps toward you and your family, prompting your sister to swiftly grab your free hand as the other slowly lowers from your lips. 

You had no love for Feyd-Rautha, nothing real. For him you experienced nothing that you should feel for a husband. Nevertheless, the tears flow all the same. 

"The life debt has been paid.” Irulan blurts, squeezing your hand as Paul nears you. “Spare my father and I will be your willing bride. The throne will be yours."

Her words snap you out of your haze, throwing you into the face of reality as it strikes you in the heart. 

"I'll take the hand of your daughter. She will remain safe and we will rule together over the empire." Paul declared.

In the span of seconds you imagine the moment a trillion different ways. If only he had nodded toward you, not Irulan.

‘Where is integrity?’ You wonder. 

Where is honor in sacrifice when you've given all you know to give and you still don't win. You can never seem to come out on top. You can never seem to be first…But your sister can, as she always does.

You snatch your hand away from your Irulan’s; Your eyes glued to your father, now kneeling, as rage grows within you. The rage of all of the rejection you've faced, the rage of all you have given to get to where you are, the rage of now wishing Feyd-Rautha had stuck Paul Atreides' head on a spike for all of Arrakis to see.

The rage of a Harkonnen.

[buzzkillers]

The Deer Was Tired 1/3

synopsis: As a guard for the Atreides family, it's your job to make sure their precious offspring was satisfied. Even if doing so got in the way of your true mission.

Pairing: Paul Atreides x Reader

Trigger Warnings | Content: Manipulative Behavior, Dubious Consent, Abuse of Power, Stalking, Sexual Coercion, Corruption Kink, Assassination Au.

By his fourth night of no sleep, the Archduke was restless, prickly and completely fucking annoying.

If you could kill him you would, but you couldn't. You could just barely grab for your knife and after an hour, even moving had become an impossible task. Call that the 'completely fucking annoying' part.

What a pity. 

Now at this hour, the Palace was a sleeping beast with soldiers that stood bleary eyed in the hallways. The inner workings of the court, nothing more than a shallow husk.

 It reminded you of the cities on Tano, a planet so lively during the day but nothing but a husk at night. But this was not that, this planet was a graveyard. 

An open cemetery filled with the walking dead and the beast that fed on them. Bad actors filled every corner of this world, death licked at your feet and famine yipped at your lungs. You've never been so thirsty. But you were sure that even they were rested now. The disease, the pestilence and the worms. Everything rested at this hour. Everyone but him. 

It was an odd thought. You felt as if you were even breaking some rule, that even the dunes moon hated the fact that the two of you were awake as it shined it's light through the Lords window, successfully lighting up the dark room and giving you a front row seat to the Lord that stared at you like a bug, like something to step on. 

Maybe you were. 

If not a bug than a snake. Something slimy and slick that cleaned up the pest in your walls silently, efficiently. Something meant to be invisible. It was partly true. Just as much as you were partly impressed. 

You never knew such a delicate man could look so demeaning. It reminded you of those old war paintings, the kind filled with vengeful women with burning eyes and gnashing teeth. He wanted to kill you. 

It didn’t help that at this hour, the young man was dressed like his mother. His body decorated in a deep oceanic blue fabric that crashed into waves at the ankles of his calloused feet. Each cross stitch covered in jewels and beads that glimmered in the moonlight while he laid stiff on his cot. 

 He was beautiful like this. And if you were being nice you’d say that he looked like one of those deadly beauties you heard of on the radio-if you were being nice. The look of death on his face kind of ruined it. 

With a face engraved with dark circles and sallow cheeks. The lord looked more sickly than anything. A walking famine. Before he turned towards his window, a frown etched into his regal features. 

Then with a beleaguered sigh, the Lord pinched the bridge of his nose. "Be blunt, soldier," 

"Are you saying it all came up negative?"

You rolled your armored shoulders. It sounded like a machinery of parts. "Yes, m'lord," 

"And what about this room, the walls I touch, the air I breathe?,"

"Checked and cleared, m'lord"

His frown only deepened. "Check it again,"

"But-"

He slammed his fist on the window sill. 

"Must I repeat myself?" You straighten your posture.

"Must I?"  

You shook your head till your helmet let out a creak and the brat unballed his fist. "Good," 

"This sickness has already gotten in the way of the more important things, it can't make me ignore my father's request too," 

You blinked and lied: "The Duke may be lenient," 

He laughed till his cheeks went sickly red but no humor was on his face. "You know him then?" He asked, even though that wasn't at all what you said. 

Still, still he did not wait for your response. He simply groaned, low and hard like an injured animal too stubborn to die. You wished he'd just die. 

"In a weeks time my father will need me at peak condition, and yet I haven't slept in days,"

"I haven't dreamt in days," 

"I have not known rest in days, I can barely hold my dagger any more but you say nothings wrong,"

"It is the truth," you lied again. "I pray for your health everyday m'lord" 

And for a moment there was silence before he cut his eyes towards you. "Don't lie, you are irritated with me and would readily slit my wrist for disrespect if I wasn't a highborn," You've never been more grateful that your armor came with a face shield. 

The stupid prince just had a flare for the dramatics, that was all. 

"My lord," you continued, your voice unnaturally timid because that's what books told you to sound like when speaking to royalty. "May I make a suggestion,"

"You may," But he barely looked at you when he responded, his eyes now locked firmly on the expanse of sand outside his window. His own little view of this hell scape planet. For a moment you wondered what he saw.

"Well as you know, the Duke brought many of the servants on your home planet to the Dunes," you waited for him to interrupt but he did not, you sighed with relief. "Everyone with loyalty to the throne is on this planet" 

The young man scoffed. "Are you suggesting that I make friends with servants" 

"In a way," you lied and before the scowl on the mans face could deepen (fuck it) you continued: "I'm suggesting that you get a whore," You said bluntly and not at all regal or uptight, shit. 

You're barely finished your sentence before the Atreides lord went as stiff as a board. His eyes no longer focused nor his breathing noticeable. For a moment, you mistook him for an apparition until a rush of red bloomed from under his cheeks and his eyes went beady like a bug.

Nonetheless, silence draped over the room like sand, the only thing you could hear being the sound of mice that scurried through the walls and the dancing of desert sand. 

 It would be distracting if you weren't anticipating his answer. The poor man, you must've shocked him. Politicians were rarely known for directness and you've begun to contemplate if you ran into this too abruptly then you thought before you felt it.

The soft tremor of your muscles and the swelling in the back of your head that felt like a banging drum, like a whistled beat. As something red-hot and scorching (fear,fear, dread) seeped from your veins and onto cold white bone. 

The urge to run bursted in every cell of your brain but you could not move. The sense of doom forced you still. For a horrifying second, instinct fought against instinct. You needed to run, you needed to stay. You needed to scream, you needed to choke it all down. You didn't realize it was over until you collapsed to your knees and sticky drool sloshed from your lips while your nails dug painfully into the floor. 

 Atreides hadn't moved an inch. He simply looked at you from the reflection of the glass window. His eyes replaced with black opaques that made you wonder where his irises ended and pupils began. 

Shakily, you stood back to your feet. 

"My-"

"How dare you," he hissed. 

"Please-"

"Get out," And as if space and time were at his beck and call. You blinked, the universe ceased to exist and just like that you were at his door with your armored hand on the handle. 

"And soldier," he whispered, voice now hoarse. The room now thick, muddy and impossible to think through with this heavy cloud that swelled heavy in your head. 

"Check it again,"

__

The next day, the Dune sun sunk into every pore of your skin. 

You could barely hear yourself think as you leaned against the cemented pillars of the palace. Each moment passed by with a drip of sweat made the tree gardener eventually stop and glare before grimly handing you a cup. 'A waste of water' he grumbled before he got back to work, his own skin drier than the dirt itself. 

Oh the thrills of guarding the Palm Trees.

For a moment, you wondered if this was a punishment. Something suggested by the Lord himself before quickly you burned the thought away, the Archduke was not that cruel. No, he was efficient. If he truly wanted you to hurt, a quick walk in the desert would be more his style. You doubt that you would’ve made it to morning if you had truly hurt the Lord. But that was the problem wasn’t it? He wasn’t supposed to want to hurt you. He wasn’t even supposed to know you. And now you were here, so now what? 

Now what?

Your head had begun to hurt as you thought of the possibilities. You could run, you could change your appearance, you could simply die. Did it matter? The end result stayed the same; they would not be happy. They might just bring her back just to kill her again. Oh the horror. They were going to find out and you were going to die and, 

Something like terror had begun to lick at your bones. Fear lapping at your soles. Suddenly it felt like eyes were on you everywhere. That the sky was watching and the walls were listening, they were everywhere and what were you to say? How would you plead your case? Everything watched as you stood there, your entire body damp with sweat and in your delusion even the gardener kept his gaze on you. His deep set skin dragging with his eyes at your form. Did he know what you were too? Did he know what you did? 

What were you to say if they asked? If your stupidity breached the walls of the Lords chamber?

 It was one thing to be the brats guard, it was another for him to remember that you were his guard. Just like that, you gripped the cup painfully. 

If the Brat remembered you...no you couldn't have that. It would ruin everything.It maybe already had. But the man was teased of sleep, of rest. Day and night he screamed and shouted at the guards, at his parents. At this moment, he was no different than a drunken fool. Yes, that was it. Your stupidity could be put down to that. The ramblings of a sleep deprived idiot. Even if he wasn't around, you suspected that the brat would tell your commander about the perverted soldier who attempted to tempt him into depravity, but who would believe him?

Everyone. 

Everyone would believe him. Because he was a prince before he was a fool. And you were going to die. Either by his hand or something far, far worse. It was as simple as that. A fact set in stone. The revelation caused your heart to ram into your ribs. For it was a simple answer for a simple question. All that you had left to do was warn the others, to prepare them.

Or maybe you didn’t as your shift ended with a buzz on the wrist and an overarching shadow that stretched into a soldier with armor like yours appeared in your line of vision. Under the sunlight he stood like death's hand. His metallic armor catching a gleam in your eyes. 

“The commander needs to speak to you,” the man said gruffly. 

“He says it’s urgent,” and that was that. 

You could only jerk your head in acknowledgement and with a nod towards the Gardener, you swiftly made your final exit; but not before looking at the cup of liquid in your hand and throwing it to the ground.

[faetreides]

summary: the discovery of a long hidden planet operating outside of the emperor’s rule threatens to upend the balance between the great houses and shift the tides of war. (ongoing series)

pairings: paul atreides x reader , chani x reader, leto atreides x reader, lady jessica x reader, irulan x reader, feyd rautha x reader (AFAB crown heir!reader)

cw: reverse harem type crack treated seriously, cosmic horror elements, undecided/possibly ambiguous endgame, dark/yandere behavior & themes, comedic undertones, dark & nsfw content, canon compliant as much as possible but there will be gaps in my memory, past leto & jessica (they split after she became a reverend mother)/past paul & chani, each character pursues reader separately, oc planet & oc house for reader, pretend like it still makes sense for leto to be there, don’t think too hard about the logistics of this in general, vintage sci fi inspired, i just wanted to have a silly unrealistic series where it’s all about the reader lmao

series masterlist:

coming soon !

tag list (ask to be added or removed, NO MINORS):

youngestxhearts, tian-monique, angel-gabriella, isnt-itstrange, flower-frog, aerangi, saturnhas82moons, ch0co1atech1p, mcmisbehaving, zoeaxrodriguez22, hellomadamebutterfly, sh4d0w69he4rt, moonsoulk, skythighs, laennetargaryenskywalker, nexilismirus, howibecameabadassbitch, hoely-maria, aubs444, timhalamet,

- faetreides 2024

[anxiouswriter0]

The Voice | Paul Atreides

════════════════════════════════════════════

Paul and Chani, along with Lady Jessica, were camping in the vast desert of Arrakis, surrounded by golden dunes and the eternal silence that characterizes that arid and desolate world. In the afternoon, as the three of them were in the tent, they were suddenly startled by joyful shouts and laughter echoing in the distance.

Alerted by the noise, they stepped out of the tent and found several Fremen, desert natives, waving their arms in the air with expressions of happiness directed towards a figure standing not far away. Among them stood a young woman unfamiliar to Paul and Lady Jessica, but not to Chani.

Chani, with a smile on her face, joined in the joy of the Fremen, while Paul and Lady Jessica watched with confusion. They didn't understand what was happening, but they could still feel the joy radiating from the group.

When she finally reached the group, the Fremen surrounded her with joy and warm hugs, while that person received those gestures with affection. Paul observed how Chani wrapped her arms around that person, not wanting to let go. Paul understood how that person had somehow managed to connect with the very essence of the desert and its people.

—you must be exhausted from the journey. why don't you rest?— Chani suggested, catching the attention of Paul and Jessica.

—Yeah, maybe a little rest sounds good —she replied, following chani.

As they approached the tent, Paul and Jessica called out to them, grabbing both their attention.

—I'm sorry, the excitement of the moment almost made me forget —chani smiled, while the girl also smiled. —(y/n), these are lady jessica and paul atreides —chani introduced them, —they are one of us.

from his position, paul watched (y/n) attentively as she removed her cloak, revealing sparkling eyes and a serene presence that took his breath away. her (h/c) hair gently waving in the desert breeze.

—It's an honor to meet you, (y/n), —Lady Jessica speak.

—A pleasure to meet you —Paul said.

(y/n) responded with a respectful nod.

—The honor and pleasure are all mine, Lady Jessica, —she said, looking at the named person and then moving her look to the young man, —Paul.

Paul, surprised, looked up at her in disbelief. Lately, he had been dreaming of a similar voice calling out his name.

a voice that was now in front of him.

════════════════════════════════════════════

↳ Note: Hey, this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction... sooo... I have several unfinished drafts. Maybe with this one, I'll make a sequel... Maybe... I don't know ↳ p.s: this was something quick that came out of my head, while I was watching the new Dune movie

[icedb1ackcoffee]

Corrupted by Design CH 1 | Feyd-Rautha x Reader

After generations of pillaging and destroying their ecosystem, you are assigned by the Emperor to work on with the Harkonnens to improve their planet’s agriculture as Imperial Ecologist. However, Giedi Prime is far from welcoming, and you must fight to survive the horrors you endure at the hands of the Harkonnens. When you catch the eye of the Baron’s youngest nephew, and most prized possession, you step into a world complicated by politics and revenge.

Tags: Unbeta'd, AFAB Reader, multiple OCs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, enemy to friends to lovers/enemy lovers, slow burn, fake science, blood, violence, gore, body horror, cannibalism, uncle/nephew incest (implied), eventual smut, etc.

A/N: I’ve never read the books, so this is a combination of the Villeneuve films, the Dune Wiki, and a heavy dose of just making shit up lol. I try my best to make Reader as nondescript as possible, but there are mentions of having periods and body hair in later chapters. As a warning up front, this will not have a Happily Ever After ending, but maybe more like Happy For Now?

Please mind the tags; this is very dark, but that comes with the territory.

Chapter One: Like Meat (Spoiled)

Previous Chapter ⦾ Next Chapter

When you first arrived at Giedi Prime, nothing could have adequately prepared you for the shock the harsh environment brought. 

Approaching the planet, dark, heavy clouds of pollution choked its atmosphere, seen even from your descent into the atmosphere. Any hope you’d had on your mission here began to wither as you saw the goliath manufacturing plants and landfills that scarred the horizon on all sides. Even the advanced Sardakaur technology on this ship couldn’t soften the harsh winds. Could this be the reason why they accepted you— a last-ditch effort to salvage whatever was left of this godforsaken planet…?

When you landed, you rose unsteadily to your feet and grabbed your luggage. Two large bags and one satchel tied at your waist. The rest unloaded off the ship, full of your tools and plants. Your entire life packed away, always ready for the next move. An escort accompanied you off ship, the rest staying inside. Not that you would blame them; if it was not required of you, you would not leave, either.

Read More

[finelinevogue]

love isn’t weakness

summary - paul helps you see that love isn’t a weakness

pairing - paul atreides x caladan!reader

word count - +1k

🌙⚔️🌅✨🌙⚔️🌅✨🌙⚔️🌅✨🌙⚔️🌅✨

You wake to the Paul sleeping soundly beside you.

For once.

So often now does Paul wake up in a cold sweat from his dreams. You can’t imagine how terrifying seeing the possible future must be, but as long as he has you beside him to hold his hand he assures you he’ll be okay.

You wipe the sleep away from your eyes and sit up to let the blanket fall from your body.

Some days you wish you had been allowed to stay on Caladan. Days like today, where you mourn the loss of your parents who died in a war long ago.

Now, you were lost to the deserts of Arakkis.

Paul was slowly becoming a God here and soon you were afraid you’d lose him to the desert too.

You watched him for a few moments, his chest rising slowly and falling again. There was something so overwhelming about watching him just exist.

Watching him grow up as your best friend had never been like this. You’d only grown in feelings for Paul when he was sent to Arakkis before you. The loss of not having him near all the time was horrible, and when reunited Paul made that clear to you by kissing you as more than a best friend.

You smiled softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly so not to disturb him, before getting ready to go outside to greet the waking sun.

No one else on camp was awake.

You were away from Worm territory and clear of any Harkonnen’s for now.

Trudging up the steep sand bank, you crested to the top and was greeted by the expanse lands of the dunes.

Nothing for miles. Far as your eyes could see, there was nothing but peaks and troughs of mountainous dunes.

You sat down carefully, watching some sand slide down the dune beside you.

Opening the small piece if dirtied white - now grey - cloth in your hand you found your small locket. The circular shaped pendant necklace opened to the treasure inside - a small picture of your parents on their wedding day.

You gulped back the phantom stone in the back of your throat and squeezed the pendant in your hand tightly.

“I miss you.” You whispered to the desert.

Silence returned.

“You would never guess where I am now!” You laughed to yourself, wiping your tears away quickly with the back of your hand.

It was advised to never cry in the desert, lest you want to lose all your bodies water reserves.

You blew out a big breath, trying to remind calm. “Could do with a nightmare of a family dinner right now.”

‘Nightmare’ because there would always be an argument of some sort about what you were going to have. It was never actually a nightmare, you just liked to refer to them as that.

Soft footsteps could be heard behind you, climbing the dune not so subtly. Although, you suspected they wanted you to hear them so you knew someone was coming.

Only when he sat next to you, did you realise it was Paul.

He sat tight beside you, not leaving much room.

He looked out towards the vast landscape and said nothing. He was good at knowing when or it you wanted him to speak, or when you just wanted the company.

For now, company was all you needed.

He softly slunk his calloused hand into yours, interlinking your fingers and squeezing to show you he was there for you.

He knew what this day was to you.

“I don’t want to be weak when I think about them anymore.” You whispered, hoping Paul would understand.

“It’s not weak to miss them, Y/N.”

“I feel it.” You dipped your head, opening your other hand to reveal the pendant.

“Love isn’t a weakness. That’s what you feel; love. You’re loving them even after they’ve gone.” He explained in a way a true leader could only.

“That was a very wise thing to have come from you.” You turned to look at him and he was already smiling at you, both of your glowing in the morning sun now.

“Love has made me wise.”

He looked at your lips. You looked from his eyes to his own.

“Then you would know, love isn’t wise at all.” You responded with something Lady Jessica had told him when he had declared that you were together.

Literally, declared in front of a whole camp of Fremens. It was simultaneously both the most embarrassing and happiest moment you’d felt on this planet.

Paul decided to shut you up by kissing you, not too harshly otherwise you’d both go falling off the top of the dunes - which, yes, had happened before.

He cupped your cheek softly and kissed just as much. His lips were warm with the wake of the sun and your insides started to glow just as brightly.

Love.

“You make me feel less weak.” You pulled back to tell him, whispering the words only a breaths touch away from his lips.

“That’s because you love me.” He teased, kissing you with a smile.

You pushed his shoulder ever-so-lightly, to get him back for the teasing.

“Do you not?” He questioned, pretending to be offended. He touched your cheek furthest from him and tugged it so you would face him again. “Hmm?”

“You’re so dependent on what my feelings are for you?”

“Yes.”

The light conversations between you never failed to outshine any dark moments you way be having.

“That makes you a weak man. Maybe you aren’t Lisan Al-Gaib after all.” You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.

“Maybe. Love still doesn’t make me a weak man though and it doesn’t make you weak either.” He kissed the tip of your nose softly.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him.

“They’re still there, watching over you.” He nodded to the sky where the last of the stars were twinkling still. Soon they’d be gone and the sky would be lit in cerulean blue.

“I know.”

“And they’re here too.” He touched over your heart and then over his. Your parents had been as close to him as his own father, so he knows what the loss feels like even after all this time.

He now knows the kind of whole a loved one can leave on your heart. It’s learning to know not how to re-fill it, but live with it that’s the difficult part.

He was learning how to do that from you, just as you learnt from him.

You kissed him again, just because you needed to let him know that you appreciated him - more than words could ever explain.

Paul gave you a small smile when be broke away from your lips quietly.

“I love you. To forever.”

“To forever.”

[mutsubaki]

Muad’Dib who steals one glance from Feyd-Rautha.

Muad’Dib who comes into the chambers where the prisoners are kept in the middle of the night, disheveled and angry, and just drags Feyd-Rautha somewhere. Nobody stops him.

Muad’Dib who takes his mask off in the darkness of the Arrakis night and reveals himself as Paul Atreides. Paul, who reveals that in the morning they would fight to death, as pawns of Bene Gesserit, and that he is so tired. That he is forced to follow their path and he wants to make his own choices.

Paul, who begs Feyd-Rautha to run away with him and mess up everyone’s plan.

They run away; nobody follows. Chani takes place at the fremen Council, Irulan makes her move as a negotiator, Arrakis regains more independance, and the Corrinos keep the throne.

All while the boys get a couple of days to be boys. Run away with each other, spill all their secrets: Paul already knows everything, so Feyd-Rautha can finally tell someone. Dream about future where their past doesn’t matter. Make love.

Of course, their silly resistance doesn’t last. After one breath of freedom, Feyd longs to feel the power, and he obviously choses to get back to Giedi Prime as a Baron.

So Baron Harkonnen returns - with a nameless, faceless figure, veiled in a way resembling Bene Gesserit, but different. Feyd-Rautha says that they saved him in the desert. That he has his own Truthsayer now.

Reverend Mother Superior thinks that it’s meaningless show off. He can have his desert witch, this would’t make any impact on their mission.

This line of thought is acceptable to all parties involves.

[jointherebellion215]

If It's True

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: When an unexpected guest crashes your House's welcome feast for the Harkonnens, your life unknowingly becomes the start of a sad, sad song.

Word Count: 872

TW: Manipulation, Dark!Feyd-Rautha (so Regular Feyd-Rautha), she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, songfic

A/N: Hi, it's your friendly neighborhood shitposter. I'm taking a huge leap of faith with this fic, because I truly haven't written anything in YEARS. This idea has been bouncing around in my head for days, thus "the trilogy was born". This is meant to be Part One of a three part series, based on different songs from the musical Hadestown. I've obviously written this with very very dark interpretations of the songs and the themes. If enough people like it, I'll post parts two and three. Please let me know if it's any good, I'd love some feedback :)

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories other than what I derive inspiration from are strictly coincidence.

What’s the use of his backbone

If he never stands upright?

“We welcome you to Kolhar, my lords Baron and na-Baron. Our House humbly offers our services and facilities to your use. I toast to our continued cooperation and to the strength of our Houses.”

As your father raised his cup, others of our House followed suit. The official welcome feast was well underway, though House Harkonnen had been planetside for at least a week already. The past few days had been for inspecting our mines and factories, ensuring that our production of their ships and swords were up to standard. 

Now? Pure pageantry. You found it a bit redundant, but it was necessary to ensure your good standing among the Houses of the Imperium. It was a grand occasion, in which the leaders of your father’s council were present, as well as the highest ranked mine workers. 

The doors to the large hall slam open, a familiar figure storming in. Your heart flutters at the sight of your beloved parting the crowds before him. The man who you had met by complete coincidence, one of the workers in a local steel mine, who you had spent the better part of a year meeting in secret—had crashed the court. You noticed a bruise growing on his cheek and blood trickling down his temple, indicating that his journey to enter through the doors was easier said than done. His voice soon bellowed throughout the hall. 

“My Lord Duke, I refuse to let your daughter’s hand be taken by the na-Baron. She cannot marry him.” 

The crowd gasps, as do you. You had spent the past week showing the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha around the grounds, the training of your most fierce warriors, and the best of your planet’s culture. You had shared a laugh or two and shown your prowess as a leader. Yes, you’d spent quite a bit of time with him, but marriage? This was news to you. 

You turn to your father, who gives you an apologetic grimace. Several Harkonnen guards step forward to seize the love of your life. You quickly stand to protest, but the na-Baron stops the guards in their track with a single snap of his fingers. He offers a hand to calm the crowd, an eerie stillness in his form.

“It is true, I have offered my hand to the Lady.”

I believe that with each other, 

we are stronger than we know.

“There must be a way around this. Even if this is in defiance of the court, they can’t punish all of us! We work their mines; they couldn’t truly function without us. We are the ones who truly hold the power! I implore you to stand with me, show them our strength!”

Your love stands strong, chin raised in the crowd, voice pleading with his brothers and sisters to stand beside him. He was convinced that this moment could provide a great revelation, that somehow your situation was different. That the consensus of a crowd could make the na-Baron stand down. Surely, your story could convince even the coldest of hearts that love can conquer all. He must have some sentimentality that resonates within him.

That's one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him. He's always so full of hope. Always willing to see the world as it could be, in spite of the way that it actually is.

But you knew better.

“This is treason.” Someone whispers in the room. Murmurs of assent soon follow, and your heart drops. The crowd around him quickly dissipates, as if the mere act of touching him promises death. 

And the ones who deal the cards

Are the ones who take the tricks

With their hands over their hearts

While we play the game they fix

You start to plead with your father to spare your lover. He doesn’t know any better, he wasn’t raised in the ways of politics or court. It’s purely out of his love and devotion to you, so please—

Feyd-Rautha stands up and the room is immediately devoid of sound. He cranes his neck to look at you.

“You love him?”

You swallow harshly, lifting your chin. “I do.” You went to your lover, making a bold statement in linking your fingers together. Presenting a united front. Hoping that somehow, your kind attitude the past week towards the na-Baron would allow this leniency.

A gleam flashes through his eyes, almost imperceptible. He gives a blackened smile, making show of placing his hand over his heart. Confusion fills you. He slithers down the steps towards the pair of you, boots echoing in the Feasting Hall, each step making your lover’s hand give a slight tremor. Your mind stands strong in its conviction, in the thought that you’ll have to fight for what you want. But a small tendril in the back of your mind gives the slightest hesitation. The smallest indication of hope. Maybe…

Piter leans towards his Baron, whispering concerns in his ears, but is quickly paused by the Baron’s hand. Vladimir gives a slow, menacing grin. He responds to his Mentat in a low voice,

“Don’t bother. You know that my nephew loves to play with his food.”

Is this how the world is?

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My You-niverse: Duke Leto Atreides

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides x F!Reader, throughout the series: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

Series Masterlist

You're staring out the window when a woman's voice broke your trance, "I'm surprised you're still here."

You turn to see a woman in elegant, yet casual wear. Jessica, your mind clicks, Lady Jessica. Your husband's concubine and your dear friend. Mother to your step-son, Paul.

You completely face her, "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About?"

"My time here.," you answer, but Jessica looks at you knowingly. You chuckle, "What?"

"Is something wrong?"

You shake your head, "No, should there be?"

"You seem different," she walks over to you and grabs your hand, "Stardust, whatever it is, you know you can confide in me, always."

You nod, "I know, thank you. It's just..." you're conflicted. The mind, is at war right now. The memories of the 'original' you and this you are clashing. You're seeing flashes from this universe, the one before that. You're seeing Marc, Richard, Laurent, all of these different versions of your husband. Your head is pounding and you start feeling dizzy.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Jessica yells out as she catches your falling form. Before things fade to black, you hear, "CALL THE DUKE! NOW!"

________________________________________________________

"A prison?!" Steve exclaims in surprise, "Y/N's a prisoner in this universe?"

"Seems so," Stephen Strange answers as your necklace glows bright, "This is the brightest I've seen this glow." After discovering the spell to help track you down, him, Steven, and America had travelled to five other universe, such as one where Marc was a homicidal drifter and another where he was a Russian security guard. It was very...odd, for Marc and Steven to see themselves as such.

"So this is a good sign right?" America asks, "Because it's glowing so bright, that means the next universe or so, we'll find her, right?"

"Here's hoping so," Stephen leads them further into a forest near the prison, "Alright, kid. Go ahead."

For the past few universes, Stephen has been transporting them. America, still guilty for losing you, had been apprehensive about using her powers. It took a lot to bring her confidence back. Thankfully, Marc and Steven didn't blame her at all for losing you. A lot of her guilt had washed away, but she still felt bad.

She steps forward and gulps. She's mentally hyping herself up. With a deep breath, she pushes her palm out and a portal the shape of a star appears.

Stephen gives her a proud nod, "Good." He proceeds to walk through the portal with Steven following behind and then America after them.

When they walk through, they're standing on a grassy cliff. The sky is gloomy and huge waves are crashing against the cliff.

Your necklace is hot and bright in Stephen's hand, "She's here." He states, "We just need to find her. Remember to stay vigilant and don't run into our dopplegangers."

America salutes, "Aye aye, Doc!"

Steven nods, "Yeah, alright."

_____________________________________________

You're sitting on a picnic blanket in Potters Field Park with the perfect view of the Tower Bridge and River Thames. The sun is shining on you, a slight breeze going by. You're focused on the book in your lap.

Marc lays beside you on his side, his arm propping his head up. He stares at you with so much fondness in his eyes while you read.

"You're distracting me," you simply state, eyes not moving from the book.

"What? Can I not stare lovingly at my wife?" he asks with a smirk.

You look up from your book and he's still smiling at you. You place your bookmark in between the pages of where you left off and shut the book. You poke Marc's shoulder and he falls onto his back. You proceed to lay down with him, taking your place in his arms, right where you belong.

The both of you lay in silence, cherishing the warmth of each other and the ambiance of London around you.

You feel him kiss your head, "Love you, baby."

You smile and curl into him more, "Love you too."

Your eyes snap open. You're confused and head still hurts . The lights in your bedroom are low, but you hear the crackling of a fire ablaze. You take a quick inhale as you sit up, alerting the others around the room.

"Stardust," Leto says in relief as he rushes from his chair, Jessica sitting beside him.

"What happened?" you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"We were talking in the training room. Something seemed off about you and then you just fainted," Jessica answers.

"If you weren't feeling well, you shouldn't have trained with me. You should've told me," Leto looked slightly upset with you, but mainly concerned.

"No, no, I was feeling fine. I..Who's Marc?"

Leto's brows furrow, "Who?"

"Marc. I-I had this dream, but it didn't feel like a dream. Like a memory. Leto, it was you, but not at the same time. Same face, but you went by Marc and-and we weren't here in Caladan. We were...I'm not sure where we were, but you were there."

Leto looks at Jessica with confusion and concern. She shakes her head in response to his silent question, but then speaks, "I will seek council with the Reverend Mother Superior. Perhaps she might know what's going on."

You hold your head, trying to grasp what's happening. In your mind, you're still getting glimpses. You see yourself with Leto here, your marriage that occurred for political gain, but then grew into genuine love. You see yourself spending time with Jessica, allowing yourself to not be jealous of the relationship she has with Leto. You see Paul training with you and Duncan.

But then in slips, other versions of Leto. One where he's in some sort of masked costume, another where he's bald with a beard and waring a sweaty tank top. Another where he's wearing some sort of tactical vest.

"What is happening to me?" you ask to no one in particular, but Leto answers.

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out," he reaches out and takes your hand. It feels comforting, his callous hands in yours.

__________________________________

"Well...that went well," Steven snarks as him, Stephen, and America are lead towards some sort of throne room. A woman stands at the forefront with a questioning look on her face.

"Who are you and what brings you to our planet?"

"Ah, so not only are we in a different universe but a different planet, splendid," Steven retorted and Stephen shot him with a glare, "Sorry," he mumbles and looks down.

"Marc?" the woman asks, which causes Steven to look up in surprise.

"Did you just say Marc?" he asks.

"Are you Marc?" she asks skeptically.

"Uh, well, yes, but also no. I-It's a little complicated, but, I-er-"he takes a sharp inhale and stares for a bit, when he comes back to, his demeanor is different.

"I'm Marc. How do you know my name?"

"The lady of the House, Y/N Atreides, she mentioned your name earlier. Why?"

"If I may-" Stephen stepped forward but Gurney immediately stuck his arm out.

The woman held up her hand, "It's alright, Gurney. I sense these people aren't here to harm us."

"Lady Jessica-" the burley man's words halt as Jessica gives him a look. He lets out a disgruntled sound before dropping his arm and taking a step back.

"Y/N, she's here?" Stephen asks.

"Yes, but she's in no condition to speak right now. She's resting."

"We need to see her," Marc demands.

"Marc-"

"No! We've spent all this time looking for her and she's finally here! We can take her back with us!"

"Calm down-"

"I want my wife back, Stephen!"

The woman holds up her hand again, "I will bring you to Y/N, however, I need some answers before you do."

________________________

Leto had moved to join you in bed. He lays beside you and you're resting your head on his now bare chest. He's gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm. You feel at peace, that is, until the door opens to reveal Jessica.

The both of you sit up, "What did the Reverend Mother say?" you ask.

"I didn't speak to her yet. We had some unexpected guests." she steps to the side and in runs America with Marc and Stephen behind her.

"Y/N!"

Marc pauses as he sees his doppleganger with longer hair, fuller beard, but the same cautious expression he gives when he's around strangers.

"What's going on?" you ask.

Marc's attention goes back to you, "Hi, baby," he says in relief and goes over to you, "We're to take you home."

"You're Marc. You were in my dream."

"Baby, that wasn't a dream. It was a memory. This isn't your universe. This isn't your home." he reaches out and places his hand on yours, "We're your home."

You pull back your hand, "No, you're not. This is my home. You're-You're just a figment of my imagination. Or-Or I'm still asleep!"

Marc looks at Stephen, "What's happening?"

"I was afraid this was going to happen."

"What was going to happen?" Marc stands and approaches the sorcerer, "What didn't you tell us?"

"Will all of the universes she'd been dragged to, her mind, her memories, they're getting jumbled. The ones from our universe and the others, she's now struggling with her other selves."

Leto slips out of bed and goes to Jessica, concern written all over him, "What did you do?"

"Nothing, my love, I, promise. These people...they come from another universe and it seems that Y/N," she gestures to you, who is now listening to America, "is from their universe."

"And what, we just let them take her from us?" Leto asks with hostility.

"I've already called for the Reverend Mother. Hopefully she will be able to-"

"NO! I WON'T GO WITH YOU!" you're yelling. Leto immediately pushes past Marc and America who seem to be pleading with you.

"Leave her alone!"

Marc stands chest to chest with his doppleganer, "Listen, she doesn't belong here. She belongs back with us in our universe. She's my wife!"

"You need to leave."

"Or what?"

"Or I make you leave."

Marc and Leto glare eat each other, one trying to best the other. However, their attention goes back to you when you speak, "Wait, let me see that." you point to the necklace in Stephen's hand.

Marc grabs it and holds it out to you, "I gave this to you for our anniversary. Whenever we went on missions, you asked me to hold it because you didn't trust yourself to keep it safe."

He places the necklace in your hand and a burst of white light blasts out of the pendant, blinding you and everyone else in the room.