#except the baron for once

[eruptedinlight]

do you have a moment to talk about my lord and savior

[misstycloud]

Isekai’d yandere x f.reader

We’ve all heard about reader getting isekai’d into another universe and bonding with the characters, but what if it was the opposite and the yandere was isekai’d while reader’s just a background character.

————-

You were the mere daughter of a baron. You were pretty, yes, but nothing to gape in awe at. To summarise, you were nothing special. Then how come the heir of a grand duchy followed you around like a puppy seeking its masters attention? Especially since it was only the day earlier that he smitten with another young miss, who he’d declared with his actions was to become his future fiancée.

Yandere! Noble who suddenly approached you out of nowhere one day. You weren’t friends and had hardly ever spoken; to ask directions or work in pairs, perhaps. He was way too cheery speaking to you. It was completely out of character for him. Where did the normally stoic and unphased young man go? He was certainly not to be found here. No, this man chatted your ear off and did not understand that you wished to be left alone. It didn’t feel very safe anymore when all his admirers glared daggers your way. There was one you were especially afraid of. He was head over heels in love with her before. What has changed? You always saw them together and she was the only one he’d smiled at genuinely. Now he didn’t even spare her a glance.

Yandere! Noble who sought you out whenever he had free time. He wanted to accompany you in breaks between your classes at the academy, he wished to escort you to town and he even showed up outside your estate. His change in behaviour was puzzling, but not as much as the shift in his speech. What were these ‘bruh’, ‘sigma’ and ‘I’m cooked’? You didn’t understand any of it, no matter how much he used it around you. You suppose you were thankful he did turn it down a notch when in others company. You already had a hard time with it, you didn’t think it was necessary for others to suffer as well.

Yandere! Noble who had been shocked when they died and woken up in the world of their favourite romance game. They had read a lot of isekai novels but never once thought the thing was actually real. Wait, if this was their favourite game, then wouldn’t that mean that you were there too? Yes! Maybe they should thank Truck-kun for hitting them on their way to work. This was much better than any ordinary life a citizen could have. At first they thought they’d be stuck in the body of a villain or a side character, but they were pleasantly surprised to find themselves being the male lead of the game. He was rich, noble, influential and devilishly handsome. He had everything.

Yandere! Noble who immediately went to the academy to find you. When playing the game, they never found themselves attracted to the female lead, despite the fact she was modelled after the general population’s preferences. It just didn’t work for them. No, they liked you. Loved you even! It didn’t matter that you were nothing more than a simple background character. You were way better and cuter than any other love interest! You kept to yourself and didn’t have many friends, however you were still very kind and modest. On top of that, you were also an animal lover- exactly like them! The two of you also shared one other interest. They wanted to know if you shared more, but unfortunately the information on you was limited(not created because you’re not important).

Yandere! Noble who wrote an email to the game developers about how they should make extra content that should only feature new information and updates on you. They insist it would sell well(no one except them would buy). Sadly they never got a reply back. Rude ass company. Maybe they should’ve claimed mental health damage because the love interests were bad, so they could sue.

Yandere! Noble who couldn’t care less about the female lead. Unfortunately they got isekaid to at the point of the game where you’d have to enter a relationship with the female lead, that you could break off eventually if you wanted to chase after someone else. And sadly for her, you were the only option. The look on her face was laughable as they told her they could give rats ass about her and how they’ve found someone much better than her in all ways.

Yandere! Noble who then realised they were not bound by any rules. In a lot of isekai the person would have to follow some original rules at least in the beginning, but there was no system or points you needed to collect. They could do whatever they wanted. They had the power, the looks, the wealth and what they wanted was you.

There is no way you’d ever say no to a future grand duke, right?

[thecordelialetters]

She's my Angel I Five Hargreeves x Reader

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Post Apocalypse Au! Pt2 Pt3

WC: ~3,258 Warnings/Tags: Sexual Tension, Mentions of Abuse, Agedup!Five, Mentions of previous trauma, 18+

Summary: The Umbrella Academy saved the world, the Commission is no longer after them, the moon is in one piece and everyone’s lives start to fall back into place. Five attempts to start his life over again when Klaus brings home a girl with unusual shadow powers. ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡

˚

The Apocalypse was over and Five Hargreaves did what he did best, drink and cope. The first few weeks of freedom he tried things he had missed early on in his childhood. It started when Viktor took him shopping for a new, more appropriate wardrobe, that someone who looked his age would wear. Then he would often visit the park just to admire the beauty of places that were once a baron landscape. And sometimes he just spent his time reading catching up on what he missed in the last few years.

But old habits die hard when you spend 54 years alone and the next 2 weeks desperate to save yourself and save your family. Maybe Klaus was right when he called the apocalypse his drug because, for a while, it was all he’d ever know.

Five hadn’t slept well in a long time and despite his newfound freedom without the looming feeling of impending doom. He would find himself waking up at 4 am to check his window and just to see if everything was real.

The Academy had been empty for a bit, the first week his family had stayed back to collect themselves, celebrate, and appreciate one another but slowly their lives fell back into place. Allison went back to Claire wanting to get back her career and her daughter back. Luther wanted to find his independence and took a small helping from his inheritance to live on his own. Diego and Lila had also moved out in hopes of continuing to grow their relationship and perhaps find happiness in normalcy. Viktor, now confident in himself wanting to explore the world more began traveling and meeting new people. To Five it felt like everyone had moved on, except him. He had been the one to jump through time, and now he felt like he was stuck in it.

However this morning, his silent coffee and breakfast time was interrupted but a surprisingly sober Klaus barging through the door with a girl no taller than 5’3 who looked as if she had been dragged through the mud and a forest in his arms.

“I didn’t know where to bring her she ran into me frantic and couldn’t speak much,”

“There wasn’t anyone chasing her so I have no idea where she came from and she’s in pretty bad shape.”

Klaus looked panicked, he felt bad for the beat-up girl in his arms but what could he do besides bring her to the place he knew could help her best.

Grace and Pogo immediately took action, bringing the girl into the spare room to care for her wounds.

“What makes you think you can just bring random people in here? She could be dangerous?”

Five arched his eyebrow at Klaus’s behavior. He wasn’t a trusting man but he trusted his brother’s intuition and the girl genuinely looked like she needed help.

“I couldn’t just leave her on the road. I’m not a bad person Five. There’s something different about her I swear.”

Five looked distrustful at what his brother was saying.

“Well, we’ll just have to see when she wakes up.”

The two went back to doing their own things in the Academy waiting for you to wake up.

————————-3 days later————————

The sun shone brightly in the room you stayed at. Your eyes slowly opened, blinking harshly to adjust to the shining light. You had no idea where you were, this new place was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Warm wood furniture decorated the walls, and the mattress you slept on seemed more comfy, soft, and warmer than your old hay-filled cot. Unsurprisingly your wounds ached but were clean nevertheless. You jumped when the door swung open to reveal a monkey? no an ape? in a suit. "Ah you're finally awake, Ill let the others know"

"I am Pogo by the way, please rest, we don't want your stitches reopening." Maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to you, but you listened to his words and laid back, staring at the large high ceilings waiting to see if whoever brought you here would be like your old doctors. Back downstairs Pogo noticed Five pacing around in the living room. "Any troubles worrying you?" "Yes that girl, I can't find any information about her, she had no ID, no name card, I even looked around the area trying to track back where she came from, and nothing." Five glanced around, more cautious of his surroundings

"What if the commission sent her?" "This is not good, not good at all"

And with a quick turn, he teleported to the room of which his unwelcome guest occupied. A flash of blue interrupted your daydreams when a boy about your age in a green flannel, cargo pants, with slightly long side parted hair entered your space. Besides appearing out of nowhere he looked almost normal, but that didn't stop you from being scared. Shivering you pushed yourself back on the bed as far as you could to try to get away from him. Sensing your fear Five held out his hands as a way to show you some form of peace. Lowering one hand he slowly approached you. But the closer he came the farther back you shuffled. Something wasn't right Five thought. You were terrified of him, what had happened to you to cause you to be in such a state.

Hey Im not going to hurt you, I don't know who you are but Im not going to hurt you." Five could see that you weren't budging so he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hazelnut toffee-flavored candy. He wasn't a big fan of sweets but had kept some from his last visit to a local coffee shop. "Here you must be a little hungry, it's good to see." He popped it in his mouth to show her that it was safe, not a trick. Slowly you reached out and touched his hand, grabbing the little treat, unwrapping it before letting the gooey sweet melt on your tongue. Five smiled at your reaction. "See? It was good." He thought you looked adorable with big doe eyes waiting to see if he had any more. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out another handle full of candies. "Ill give you one each time you answer a question. Can you do that for me?" You nodded slowly. "Okay, can you tell me your name?" "Angel" you pointed to yourself "Five" you pointed to him. You had heard Klaus shouting his name when you entered the house. "Angel? Do you have a last time?" "Five. Five Hargreeves" He pointed to himself. "Angel" You repeated. Okay maybe you didn't have a last name that was fine, at least he had gotten a name. He gave you another candy and watched you excitedly open it. "Okay Angel, another question where did you come from? Who or what were you running from?" "Doctor" you responded looking down. "What Doctor? What did he do to you." You felt like you should have known better than to trust the boy in front of you, but he looked so earnest so sweet, that you decided to show him your secret. Opening your fist a ball of shadows appeared in your hand before you tossed it into the air letting whatever light was in the room dissipate. Five knew what this had suggested. Whoever took you, held you captive, and experimented on you. Perhaps they were trying to make you into one of the unlucky 43. Another candy was handed to you.

“Show me more” Five demanded. You blinked at him slowly before he put another candy in your hand. “Show me.”

You looked at him and brought both your hands up into the air. He watched shadows run from the ground into the room and swirl around you. It appeared you could summon shadows at your will and control them.

“Good girl” and another candy as placed in your hand. "Tell me, Angel, do you know where or who it was? Do you know the name of the commission?" You stared at him blankly not understanding what he said. Before Five could ask any more questions Klaus had burst through the door. "My Angel! You are okay !" As he rushed towards you to grab your face. Stunned you jolted back from his presence. "Angel, that's why she called herself that, it's not her name, it’s what you called her!" Five went to smack Klaus in the back of the head when his hand was stopped by a shadow. "No hurt, Klaus friend" With heart eyes, Klaus dove into Angel's arms "LOOK AT MY ANGEL PROTECTING ME!!" With the gentleness of a newborn deer, Angel reached out to Klaus with a small sweet in her hand. "Candy?" "For me? Of course, Angel thank you!" Rolling his eyes at the scene Five teleported to his room to think. Where had this girl come from she had no name could barely speak and had a dark power with unknown consequences. Angel clad in Umbrella Academy uniform, and Klaus were in the living room when a flash appeared in the doorway. "Cinco! Where are you off to?" "Library I need to do some research." But just before he would reach for the doorknob a body was flung into his back. "Here take Angel with you, she needs a new set of clothes, can't have her wearing this uniform, you know all about that wouldn't you?" Klaus said as he shoved Angel forward. "I don't have time, I'm not a babysitter." Five expressed as he grabbed your arms and pushed you back. "Five...mad?" You looked up at Five with tears in your eyes. Reaching out to his face with his hand you softly pet his cheek. "Five...happy. Happy"

The time travelers face softened at the kindness you showed while trying to console him.

“I’m sorry Angel, yes Five is happy. Come on let’s go.”

He grabbed your hand ignoring the feeling of his heart when your soft skin wrapped around his.

————————-In the Car—————————

“Alright Angel, as cute as you look in the uniform we have to get you some normal clothes.”

Five looked over at you, but you were looking out the window. His green eyes passed over the cuts on your legs and the faint but visible bruises on your neck. It wondered him how someone could do this to you, turn a girl who seemed like an Angel into a shadow user. He parked the car at Gimble's before flashing to your side of the door to open it, Five was still a gentleman after all. "Okay now Angel, we're here to buy you some new clothes." You nodded your head to show you understood him and hopped out of the car excited to see the world around you. Being locked up for so long you had forgotten what the outside world looked like. Today the sky was blue with warm gusts of winds filling the air. People and families were seen chattering about. You reached out to grab Five's arm and pulled him closer to the store. Five chucked at your childlike antics, letting himself be whisked away by you. You dragged him to the dress section; some of the kinder doctors had given you books to look at to pass the time, many of them being princess books. There were cute frilly dresses that caught your eye immediately. Rushing forward you grabbed 3 dresses that might have suited you. With a sigh Five grabbed your shoulders wanting to tell you to go find some more practical everyday clothes. But after seeing the glimmer in your eye as if you found the most priceless thing...he couldn't bear take that away from you. "Come on Princess, let's go try them on." He ushered you to the changing room and waited outside. As he turned his back you grabbed his hand, but Five had yanked it back at the unexpected contact. He wasn't completely used to physical touch yet.

Ignoring this you grabbed his hand once more and tried to take him into the dressing room with you. "No Angel I can't go with you, just put on the dresses inside and Ill wait out here."

You had refused to let go of his hand. With another sign he allowed himself to be pulled into the confined space of the changing room. You quickly shimmied out of the uniform skirt and tie throwing it into a random corner. Five's face turned a deep scarlet red, although he was an older man the sight of your small and barely clothes body was enough to make him shift in his pants. Before he could embarrass himself any further he blinked out into the waiting room fanning his face as if he ran a marathon. There were small warning signs in his brain, don't get too attached, she doesn't know better, please don't get a boner right now. Trying to collect himself he put his hands in his face wanting to be anywhere but here right now. You interrupted his train of thought when you came out bouncing with a big smile on your face. The dress you picked out was a cute white summer dress that was white had thick straps tied on your shoulders. The skirt part stopped right above your knees and flared out with a twirl. You looked absolutely adorable, an Angel who wielded the power of a devil. "You look...beautiful" Five muffled through his hand. "Beautiful?" You questioned. "Yes you, Angel, you are beautiful." And as if your smile couldn't get any bigger, you ran and jumped into Five, his arms slowly wrapping around your frame to prevent you from falling.

"Five! Beautiful!" You smiled and pointed at him. Your fingers had graced his cheeks into a smile. Pointing at his dimple "Five! Beautiful" you repeated. "Oh, you think I'm beautiful Angel?" Five couldn't help but also feel happy and continue smiling, something about you felt like a breath of fresh air. His last few weeks had been nonstop paranoia and feeling the effects of an identity crisis, but hearing your laughter and seeing you call him beautiful, it felt as if he was actually living again. However, that didn't stop the nagging fear in the back of his mind of where you came from and what had happened to you. Perhaps it was the assassin in him that just couldn't let him...enjoy a moment. "Come on Angel, let’s get the rest of the dresses and pay. We need to head to the library before it closes." You nodded your head and skipped off to grab the rest of your dresses and clothes. You and Five stood at the cashier waiting to pay. "That will be 45.78." Five pulled out a 50 and felt your head lean on his shoulder. "Five, thank you." You looked up at him with a mischievous gleam in your eye. As he was retrieving his change you leaned up and placed your soft lips on the corner of his mouth. "Five happy?" He looked down at you and blushed "Yes Five is very happy." ————————The Library—————————- You were sat in Five's lap flipping through a picture book while he was doing research. Unfortunately, there was almost no information about any kind of suspicious activities in the area where they had found you or even how you even got to the city. Five had to expand his research on places that might have to do with experimental tests but with so little access he was found himself at a dead end. "Nothing! Absolutely Nothing!" Five yelled before slamming his notebook on the table. You jumped in his lap and covered your ears, eyes filling with heavy teardrops waiting to fall. "Shit Angel Im sorry come here." He cooed wrapping his arms around you for the fourth time today. Five pressed a kiss to the top of your hair and inhaled slowly. You smelt like a blooming meadow and a hint of cinnamon. Closing his eyes he rested his head on yours. It wasn't been often when he felt a peace like this, heck he didn’t even remember the last time he felt calm, other than when he was drinking or passed out after a mission. Your eyelashes fluttered on his neck as you began to press small kisses on his jawline. "Come on Angel what are you doing?" "Make Five happy. Kiss you" You mumbled and continued leaving marks on his neck and jaw. Five clenched his fists around you "Angel if you keep this us I'm not going to be able to hold back." Five groaned as he pulled you closer into his lap. And with his last bit of resolve, he blinked you guys back into the car. "Come on Angel let's go home." He kissed your cheek slightly to assure you he wasn't mad and drove the two of you back. ————————the academy———————--- "Mi hermano and Angel ! You guys are back" Klaus shouted from the couch he was currently lying on. You ran into the living room jumping in front of Klaus to show off your dress.

"My cutie Angel! You look so pretty!"

Klaus then swept you off your feet and into a fit of giggles. Five, who had been observing the scene from the bar was actively trying to fight off the green monster that was creeping up his heart. "Leave her alone Klaus we had a long day. Come on Angel let's have your shower and get ready for bed." It was obvious you needed to be cared for and Five had already begun to assume the role. Pulling out some extra pajamas Five had in his wardrobe he handed them to you before showing you the bathroom. "Shower here and come back to my room when you are done okay?" You nodded back and went into the bathroom. With a sign Five flopped on his back in bed wondering more about you. How could someone he just met cause him to feel such a way? Maybe it was his messed up time-traveling brain that was causing these emotions but deep down he knew he had a hidden attraction to you. He began to think more about your powers. You couldn't be part of the 43 because you were too young but you also showed an understanding of your abilities and more control than Viktor did when he first found out about his. Five would have to talk to you after you shower about your abilities. Small footsteps padded outside his room before stopping. The door swung open and there you stood wrapped in only a small towel Grace had given you. Five green eyes turned wide as you skipped into his room.. You had turned to grab the pajamas he had left you on the bed and dropped your towel. Five sat up instantly, his eyes wandered over the curve of your breasts and the plumpness of your backside. Being in the apocalypse and focused on getting back home to his family never allowed him much time for romance or women, besides Delores. You stood up as bare as the day you were born, nipples perked up at the cold air and you put the silk top and bottom on. Now properly clothed you turned to Five who was staring at you with eyes that rivaled a burning sun. In a blink, he was in front of you grabbing your waist with such a force it felt like you would disappear if he let go. Bringing his lips to your neck he kissed gently and dragged his face to meet your eyes. Soft despreate lips met plump shy ones as you and Five melted into each other. The kiss grew hungry, more desperate, both parties missing the feel of one another. The two of you fell back onto the bed with Five on top of you. Two souls both isolated from the world finally finding solstice in one another. All the questions Five had for you were gone from his mind, the only thing replacing it was the thought of how your body felt against his. A small hand reached into the front of Five's pants. "I want to help Five" You had whispered into his ear. It was going to be a long night.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ Authors note : I kinda of wrote this on a whim in the middle of the night. I’d want to make this into a full series although and go really in depth about Angel who she is and how she got her powers and I defiantly want to bring back the rest of the Hargreaves but I'm not sure when Ill have another creative burst.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Could I request Feyd and reader’s wedding from “his”? Or maybe how her life changes once she’s his wife and not his mistress? I lovelovelove all the prequels, but I’m so interested to see their future together!

Forever His

Feyd-Rautha x concubine!reader

Notes/Warnings: barely smut. discussions of babies. thank you for the request and for reading <3

Words: 1350

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

You’re his now. Completely. Entirely. 

Before, anyone could have attempted to touch you, talk to you, insult you—though unwise—and no one but Feyd would have blinked an eye. Neither would they have assumed that such disrespectful behavior toward you would result in their death. A concubine is meant to be touched, spoken to however one pleases, insulted if it’s what a man needs to relieve the stress and frustration from his body. With the exception of Leto Atredies, Feyd’s the only Lord you’ve heard of who has ever given a fuck about the concubine they keep while simultaneously demanding respect for them. And on his part to ensure that, Feyd put secret rules in place when it came to you that men did not often follow. 

Being so heartless by nature, no one would expect a Harkonnen to care about anyone other than themselves—it’s risky to hint that the cold-blooded are capable of running a little warmer than rumor suggests—and for Feyd to lay out his care for you to the masses would have undoubtedly led to your death, whether by the hands of enemies or the Baron himself. But that didn’t stop Feyd from enforcing his rules and the repercussions for breaking them.

Those rules led to the deaths of many, most dramatically of his brother and a Caladanian diplomat, and it’s a wonder Feyd was able to talk himself out of the responsibility for their lives when the Baron called for an explanation. But he did. Feyd kept you alive, untouched by others, unbothered by others, respected by others because you were always his. His, at first labeled so in one way, and now, labeled so in another—as a wife. 

His wife. A Lady once more—not of your home planet, but of Giedi Prime—and though your renewed status may not change the way a Harkonnen man needs to present himself to the universe, Feyd can now be who he wants to be without the Baron lifting an eyebrow. He doesn’t have to pretend not to care for you as deeply as he does, and neither do you have to fear the choices he was making for your sake. 

From the moment Feyd kissed you in front of those who declared the validity of Geidi Prime marriages, your worries were instructed to fall in line with the duties of a wife. But with Feyd—for Feyd—it’s easy. Be his woman; stand by his side; and bear him an heir. And those things, you can do. 

—

His fingers are digging into your hips, helping guide your movements as you grind and shift your hips. He never let you on top before, and he never answered you when you asked why, but you knew it was his method of protection. A psychological need that extended to the physicalities of sex. He had to be the looming one, the consuming one, the one who shielded the other from dangers that were not present in the confines of your room. But that changed as your title changed. You’re allowed to be freer now—uninhibited—and Feyd has been willing to teach you how.

His back teeth clench, jaw sharpening with his final grunt of pleasure. With his hand on your neck, he pulls you down, lips claiming yours as he spills inside of you for the third time in the night. 

Your chest rises and falls in sync with his as you come down from the high, and then he rolls you onto your back, remaining inside of you to keep his seed from leaving your body. “Do you think it worked this time?” you ask as you regain even breaths. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he says as he tries to do the same. “We aren’t going to stop until you’re pregnant with my heir. We aren’t going to stop even once you are.”

Your chuckle is cut short by another press of his lips. Then, there is a press on your jaw. Then another on your neck. Then that kiss turns into little bites that are sure to leave marks. It feels too good to stop him, though you probably should. One of the things that works against you as a wife that did not as a concubine is the marks he makes on your body that cannot be covered by clothing. Nibbles, scratches, bruises—all acceptable on the skin of a concubine. Not as much on the skin of a bride. But it’s a propriety that Feyd could not care less for. 

“Feyd…” The vibration from his hum tickles your throat. “I’ll get stares.” Glares, more like. 

He pulls back with a quirked brow. “Ladies from other Houses eye the marks I give you and suddenly you’re bothered? What for?” He hums again, low, deep. His voice matches. “They’re jealous their Lords don’t fuck them like I fuck you.”

You snicker. “Maybe.”

Not maybe, definitely. However, you know it extends past the attention those women do not receive from their men. The fact that you were a concubine at all raises their hackles. While the Emporer and Lords have their meetings, the Ladies sit aside, offering words when requested but otherwise remaining silent, and in that silence, they have much time to think and scrutinize and judge. 

They don’t care that you were a Lady of your own planet before Feyd; they care what Feyd made you and then remade you when he decided he loved you. And now, you remind them too much of their own circumstances: a wife competing with a concubine. Except you were the concubine and then the wife while they are the wives shadowed by concubine counterparts. You’re an image of what they will never have and what their husbands wish they could have with the women they’d prefer. 

“They’re never going to like you,” Feyd interrupts your thoughts when he sees you’re lost.

“I don’t need them to like me,” you tell him. You prefer the company of the other concubines anyway—those brought alongside the wives for their Lords. Despite the complexities of your past, you connect with them better. “But either way, you need to be more considerate.”

“No,” he counters, “I need to fuck and touch and kiss my new wife however I want, and she needs to condemn anyone who gives her trouble for it.” You mock a gasp of offense. “You expect me to hold myself back with you? You want me to restrain myself when I’m trying to put a baby inside of you?”

“You make it sound silly.”

“It is,” he says. “I don’t whine about the marks you make on me.”

“Because Lords marvel at badges of honor,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. 

Feyd’s chuckle is your favorite sound. You rarely heard it before your wedding—he was always too stressed over you, concerned about your well-being—but you became addicted the moment it hit your ears. 

You wince at the discomfort of him finally pulling out, and your body instinctively follows as if to keep him where he was. When he falls onto his back, he tucks you into his side. 

“What do you think it’ll be?” he suddenly asks you.

You’re momentarily thrown off until you realize where his mind has shifted. Snuggling against him, you say, “I don’t care. As long as it’s healthy.”

“It will be,” he says.

“And as long as we can keep it safe,” you add.

Feyd swallows. You know there’s a part of him that is aware the life you have is not the life you were meant to have; that this life is a product of your lack of safeguarding; that you were taken as a prize; that he took you. And no matter the joy you’ve expressed or your previous unwillingness to consider leaving him—not that he ever entertained returning you—trying to have a child has made it impossible for him to forget how you met. He struggles. Something in you appreciates that about him. It means you helped to change him for the better. It means when he becomes a father, he will approach it differently than his own parents once did. 

“We can,” he promises you. “And we will.”

[kennarose1108]

Feyd Rautha x Reader !You Get Harassed!

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖥𝖾𝗒𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖧𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗂𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎… 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖼.

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾.

He terrified you, to say the least. How could anyone not be terrified of him? He's killed countless people and feels no remorse. But he's never shown that side of him to you. Well, besides in the arena. You went once, saw the gruesome scenes, and never went again.

But he was always kind and gentle towards you. He made sure you were comfortable and taken care of. But he especially...

Made sure nobody messed with you.

You were his property, his prize... You were his and he made everyone know of it.

But... There was one man who believed he could have his way. He was Feyd's right-hand man, Atreus. He believed he could do what he felt like with anyone because of his status in the kingdom. Except to the people of higher rank than him, and he did not consider you to be of higher rank than him.

One day you were sitting at the breakfast table when Feyd entered. The room was empty besides you and him since after you both got together he got rid of all his concubines... So the large table lay empty most mornings and nights. Well, besides you of course. Feyd occasionally joined you but it was rare... And it seems like today was one of those days.

He entered and his eyes were immediately on you. "Good morning, my lord..." You say while standing to your feet and bowing your head. He bowed his head back and walked over to his seat, "How are you, my darling?" He says before sitting down in his seat. "I am well... And you?" You ask while sitting down.

"I am also well." He says, his eyes never leaving yours. You were nervous, that was obvious. "Today Atreus will escort you to the arena. You're going to watch me fight today." He says... Well, more like commands. "And before you ask why, today is an important match." He says. You nod your head, your gaze low. He stands up and walks over to you. You look up at him and he brushes some hair out of your face.

"I know you don't like it... But it's important to me. Just bear with it today, okay?" He says in a soft tone of voice. You nodded.

-------------------------

Later on, you were in your chambers when you heard a knock at your door. You opened your door to see Atreus. You go to walk past him to start walking to the arena but he stops you. "What's the rush?" Atreus says with a smirk.

You stand there confused, "Na-Baron wants me to go to the arena... I thought you were taking me...?" You say in a confused tone of voice. "Yeah but..." He takes a step forward, and you take a step back, "We don't have to go there for another ten minutes..." He says with a disgusting smirk. "I think we could have some fun beforehand..." He says.

Your blood ran cold. He grabbed your hips and pulled you toward him, "W-Wait-!" "Don't deny me, I'm your superior. You'll do as I say, right?" He says before placing a kiss on your neck. A shiver ran down your spine, but not one of pleasure but one of fear and disgust.

"Stop!" You cried out as he forced your hips against yours. "Oh come on... It'll be fine." He smirked while continuing to kiss your neck and rub his hips against yours. Luckily for you, you were taught some self defense.

You kneed him in the crotch and knocked him to the ground. You ran out of the room once he was down and ran down the hall. You didn't know where to go, but you knew you had to get away. Tears spilled down your cheeks, blurring your vision.

As you ran you ran into someone and fell to the ground.

"Oh! My lady! Are you alright?" A handmaiden says while kneeling down to you. She saw your distress and tears and her eyebrows furrowed. "My lady... Are you alright?" She says while helping you to her feet. You were in hysterics. You were sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.

--------------------------

Feyd heard of you being hysterical and dropped everything and came running to you. The handmaiden had brought you to Feyd's chambers because when she mentioned bringing you back to yours you cried hysterically and begged her not to.

Feyd entered his chambers and saw you sitting on his bed and crying while being held by the handmaiden. She looked up at him, "You're dismissed." He says with a nod. She quickly got to your feet and hurried away.

Feyd walked over to you and kneeled in front of you. "What happened?" He says in a soft tone of voice. You sniffled and sobbed and you didn't know how you could explain this to him or if he'd even believe you.

"Y/N. Tell me." He says while brushing some hair out of your face. It took a few minutes but you managed to pull yourself together enough to say, "Atreus h-he-" But then you broke down into a sob again.

Feyd's face fell and he rested his hand on your head. "Did he touch you?" He asks. You managed a nod.

Feyd grew angry.

Furious. Red fury rage flooded through his veins.

He stood up and stormed out of the room, leaving you alone in your mess.

--------------------------------

You were lying in Feyd's bed when you heard the door open. You sat up and saw Feyd entering the room. He looked like he had just been washed. He looked clean... Abnormally clean.

He walked over to you and sat on the edge of the bed. "Are you alright?" He asks. You nodded but you looked terrible. Your eyes were puffy and red, your cheeks were flushed, your lips were chapped and your hair was messy. "Where did you go?" You ask. "I took care of him," Feyd says. "'Took care of him'?" You repeat. "What do you mean?" You ask.

"I mean I pulled out his teeth then slit his throat." You gasped.

"You... You killed him? Why? You've known him a lot longer than me... He was your right-hand man..." You murmured. Feyd rests his hand on your thigh, "No one touches my girl." He says. Your eyes widened and your lips parted.

He did that... All for you. He loved you. He truly did.

Tears welled in your eyes and you leaned forward and hugged him tightly. He was surprised by your actions, you had never gotten this close to him, let alone hug him.

He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

"I won't let anyone harm you... Never again."

[youaintnothinbuta]

Could you possibly do something where Feyd and y/n are Wed and while he tends to his duties as Na-Baron y/n decides to look around and runs into Rabban and attempts to make and ally and while Feyd is looking for y/n he sees this and f*cks you in his brothers chambers and continues even when his brother walks and threatens him into watching. Love you (not in a creepy way) 😌😌

Love u too (not in a creepy way)!! I hope you don’t mind but the voices took over and told me to make Rabban sort of the opposite of an ally 😋

“You'll watch, and you'll learn that you will never win.” — feyd rautha x reader

Summary: see request^^

Pairing: feyd rautha x fem!reader

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, graphic violence (not towards reader), fighting, blood, injury, (all not aimed at reader) probably typos :/

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You wandered through the labyrinthine corridors of the Harkonnen residence, your footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls. As Feyd-Rautha's wife, you were no stranger to the opulent decorations and intricate architecture of the for lack of a better word, palace, that you called home, but you still found yourself getting lost in its winding passages every once in a while.

Feyd was often busy, caught up in his Na-Baron duties, leaving you to your own devices. You didn't mind, really. It gave you the freedom to explore, to discover hidden nooks and secret gardens that even the most seasoned residents might not know about.

As you turned a corner, you came face to face with Rabban Harkonnen, Feyd's older brother, who was just stepping out of his chambers. His thick, brutish features twisted into a scowl, and you could sense the weight of his gaze upon you.

“Ah, Feyd’s little wife,” he rumbled, his voice like thunder in the confined space. “The little Na-Baroness, all alone and unattended.”

“Drop the act, Rabban. I’m just talking a walk.”

Rabban snorted, his eyes roving over your body. “What is it exactly that he sees in you?” He spoke quietly, attempting to insult you.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Rabban's eyes roved over your body, his gaze lingering on your curves. You tried to step back, but Rabban was too quick, his massive hand closing around your wrist like a vice.

“Let go of me,” you fought.

“Oh, I don't think so,” Rabban purred, his hot breath washing over your face. “I've been wanting to get my hands on you for a long time, and now that Feyd's not around to protect you... well, I think it's time we got to know each other a little better.”

As always, Feyd-Rautha appeared from behind you with perfect timing, his eyes blazing with fury as he watched you struggle in his brother’s grip.

“Rabban, you bastard,” Feyd snarled, his voice low and deadly. “Let her go.”

Rabban didn't even flinch, his grip on you tightening. “Oh, come now, Feyd,” he sneered. “You know I've always wanted her.“

Feyd took a step forward, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. “I'll kill you, Rabban,” he warned.

Rabban just laughed, his eyes never leaving yours. “You'll do no such thing, little brother,” he sneered.

Rabban liked to play this tough guy game. That was the difference between him and Feyd. Rabban liked to appear angry and threatening to everyone, even his family. That’s not to say he never truly was angry though. He was, always at Feyd, who was a smarter, stronger and more respected, despite being younger than him. Feyd however, actually was threatening to everyone, except you, of course.

You smiled at Feyd, feeling complete protection despite being in the arms of his brother.

With a swift, deadly motion, he drew a blade from his belt and plunged it into Rabban's shoulder, just above the collarbone, instantly, his grip on you was released. Rabban's eyes widened in shock as he realized he couldn't reach the blade to pull it out.

Feyd's voice was low and menacing. “You should have kept your hands to yourself, Rabban. Now, you have a choice to make. You can watch us, or... the blade goes deeper.”

Rabban's face twisted in rage and pain, but he knew he was trapped. Feyd's grip on the blade remained unyielding, his free arm welcoming you into his embrace. With a cruel smile, Feyd dragged you towards Rabban's bed, the velvet drapes billowing around you like a dark cloud. Rabban's was dragged along by the blade, his gaze burning with hatred and humiliation.

Feyd's voice was a cold, calculated whisper. “You'll watch, Rabban. You'll watch, and you'll learn that you will never win.”

The blade remained lodged in Rabban's shoulder, a constant reminder of Feyd's power and control. You knew that if Rabban tried to move, the blade would be shoved deeper, a cruel and merciless punishment.

“My darling girl,” Feyd growled, his hands roaming your body. He wasted no time bringing a couple fingers between your thighs, rubbing softly as he kissed you. You felt a rush of excitement, as Feyd pulled you closer. You reached your hand out to his body, pressing against his growing erection, eliciting a growl from him.

Feyd encouraged your touch, pressing you onto his brother’s bed. Rabban's presence seemed to egg him on, his brother's gaze a twisted, voyeuristic thrill. That’s another thing Feyd had that Rabban didn’t — a sex life. Feyd continued to ravage you, stripping himself and you of all clothing. Rabban's eyes locked onto yours, a cruel glint in their depths. Rabban's face twisted into a snarl, but he didn't move, didn't intervene, as Feyd continued to take you, right there in his brother's chambers.

“Nice and wet for me, princess,” Feyd breathed, testing your waters with his fingertips before lining the tip of his cock up to your sex.

You let out a gasp as his length filled you up, you felt your muscles being stretched out around him. You would never get used to his size. The burn was welcome, a familiar feeling you hated to love. A cry escaped your lips, Feyd kissing you, mumbling encouragement as he let you adjust.

“That’s it, there you go,” Feyd mumbled, feeling you relax around him. He began to thrust, slowly. Feyd was draconian, and sadistic, evident in the way he made eye contact with his brother as he fucked you. His cock repeatedly brushed over your g spot, making you whimper in pleasure. He licked his thumb, coating it in his saliva before pressing it to your clit, drawing over it just the way you liked. For Feyd, sex was always about you. Never him. Even when he just needed to rough you, or punish you, it was never about depriving you of pleasure, but rather, overwhelming you with it.

“There's my good girl,” he praised, your hips beginning to match his rhythm.

“Oh my god, don't stop.” You moaned, trying to get your legs even further apart, wanting Feyd as deep inside of you as he could be. It wasn't long before your orgasm started to build, Feyd squeezing your nipple between his teeth as he held your head down to the bed, fucking you like an animal.

Feyd felt your walls began to clench and release around him, he knew that feeling well, he knew you were about to come. He sped up his thrusts, trying to bring himself to the edge of release too, wanting to cum with you.

“Come,” he growled in your ear. His words sent you over the edge, and you came hard. Your inner muscles gripped him tight, he groaned as he bit down on your shoulder, filling you up with his seed. He continued to work your clit, stroking the tiny bud until you cried out again in pleasure, your orgasm peaking yet again as his cum continued to spurt inside of you.

He continued you stroke you through your release, until slowly pulling out of you. He stood, panting as he made eye contact with his brother. He walked over to him, his cock still twitching as his blood flow gradually calmed. Without a word, Feyd buried the blade hilt deep into Rabban’s shoulder, the sound of metal scraping against bone echoing through the room. Rabban's eyes widened in agony as he screamed, his body arching backward in a futile attempt to escape the pain.

Feyd's face was a mask of cold, calculated cruelty, his eyes glinting with a malevolent intensity. He leaned in close to Rabban's ear, his voice a low, menacing whisper.

“Thinking you had a choice. Laughable. You should have kept your mouth shut, brother. You will never have what’s mine.”

Rabban's screams grew louder, his body thrashing against the cold ground as Feyd twisted the blade, ensuring it was lodged deep within his shoulder. You watched in horror, and yet, sadistically, enjoyed the way Feyd would quite literally stop at nothing to protect and show his love for you.

Feyd finally withdrew the blade, his movements slow and deliberate. With a flick of his wrist, Feyd sent the blade spinning across the floor, its tip clattering against the cold stone on the far side of the room, leaving tiny blood spots in its wake.

As Rabban's cries of outrage and humiliation continued to echo through the chamber, Feyd turned his attention to you, his movements calm and deliberate as he helped you to dress. His fingers brushed against your skin delicately, as he fastened the intricate clasps and ties of your gown. His touch was gentle, tender, a stark contrast to the brutal intensity of his passion just moments before.

Once you were fully clothed, Feyd turned his attention to himself. He adjusted his attire to his body, his eyes never leaving yours as he worked. When he was finished, he offered you his arm.

“Shall we, my darling?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, as if the scene that had just played out had never occurred.

You took his arm, a small smile gracing your face as you realised just how much you were enjoying something you really shouldn’t be. Feyd led you out of Rabban's chambers, the sound of his brother's angry cries and threats fading into the distance as you left the room behind.

[vaspider]

Simply put, there is a ton of fascist-chic cosplay involved. Once an officer joins the Grays, they get a special uniform designed by their tech overlords. The Grays will also donate heavily to police charities and “merge the Gray and police social networks.” Then, in a show of force, they’ll march through the city together. “A huge win would be a Gray Pride parade with 50,000 Grays,” said Srinivasan. “That would start to say: ‘Whose streets? Our streets!’ You have the A.I. Flying Spaghetti Monster. You have the Bitcoin parade. You have the drones flying overhead in formation.... You have bubbling genetic experiments on beakers.… You have the police at the Gray Pride parade. They’re flying the Anduril drones …”

Everyone would be welcome at the Gray Pride march—everyone, that is, except the Blues. Srinivasan defines the Blue political tribe as the liberal voters he implies are responsible for the city’s problems. Blues will be banned from the Gray-controlled zones, said Balaji, unlike Republicans (“Reds”). “Reds should be welcomed there, and people should wear their tribal colors,” said Srinivasan, who compared his color-coded apartheid system to the Bloods vs. Crips gang rivalry. “No Blues should be welcomed there.”

While the Blues would be excluded, they would not be forgotten. Srinivasan imagines public screenings of anti-Blue propaganda films: “In addition to celebrating Gray and celebrating Red, you should have movies shown about Blue abuses.… There should be lots of stories about what Blues are doing that is bad.”

Balaji goes on—and on. The Grays will rename city streets after tech figures and erect public monuments to memorialize the alleged horrors of progressive Democratic governance. Corporate logos and signs will fill the skyline to signify Gray dominance of the city. “Ethnically cleanse,” he said at one point, summing up his idea for a city purged of Blues (this, he says, will prevent Blues from ethnically cleansing the Grays first).

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Why Millennials aren’t leaving Tiktok

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW NIGHT (Mar 22) in TORONTO, then SUNDAY (Mar 24) with LAURA POITRAS in NYC, then Anaheim, and more!

The news that Gen Z users have abandoned Tiktok in such numbers that the median Tiktoker is a Millennial (or someone even older) prompted commentators to dunk on Tiktok as uncool by dint of having lost its youthful sheen:

https://www.garbageday.email/p/tiktok-millennials-turns

But "why are Gen Z kids leaving Tiktok?" is the wrong question. The right question is, why aren't Millennials leaving Tiktok? After all, we are living through the enshittocene, the great enshittening, in which every platform gets monotonically, irreversibly worse over time, and Tiktok is no exception:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

To understand why older users are stuck to Tiktok, we need to start with why younger users relentlessly seek out new platforms. To some extent, it's just down to youth's appetite for novelty, but that's only part of the story. To really understand why people come to – and leave – platforms, you have to understand switching costs.

"Switching costs" is the economists' term for everything you have to give up when you change products or services. Switching from Ios to Android probably means giving up a bunch of your apps and purchased media. Switching from an airline where you're a high-status frequent flier to another carrier means giving up on free checked bags and early boarding.

In an open market, rivals have lots of ways to lower these switching costs (it's an open secret that you can call an airline and say, "Hi, I'm a 33rd Order Mason on American Airlines, will you make me a Triple Platinum Diamond Sky-Baron if I switch to Delta?"). Of course, big incumbents hate this, and do everything they can to increase their switching costs, finding ways to impose high switching costs that punish disloyal consumers who have the temerity to go elsewhere.

With social media, lock-in comes for free, thanks to the "collective action problem." Getting people to agree on a given course of action is hard, and as you add more people to the picture, the problem gets harder. It's hard enough to get half a dozen people in your group-chat to agree on where to go for dinner or what board-game to play. But once you're reliant on a social media service to stay in touch with friends, relatives around the world, customers, communities (say, rare disease support groups), and coordination (like organizing your kid's little league car-pool), the problem becomes nearly insoluble. Maybe you can convince your overseas relatives to switch to a Signal group, but can you do the same for your small business's customers, or your old high-school pals?

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/29/how-to-leave-dying-social-media-platforms/

Taken together, switching costs and collective action problems make platforms "sticky," and sticky platforms inevitably enshittify.

Platforms, after all, generate value. They connect end-users with each other (say, little league parents) and they connect end-users to business customers (you and your small business's customers). That value needs to be parceled out among end users, business customers, and the platform's shareholders. A platform can make life better for business customers at its end users' expense by increasing the number of ads (hello, Youtube!), and it can make life better for its shareholders at its business customers' expense by decreasing the share of ad revenue given to publishers or performers (oh, hello again, Youtube!).

From a platform's perspective, the ideal state is one in which end users and business customers get no value from the platform, because it's all being captured by the platform's shareholders. But if Youtube interrupted every 30 seconds of video for ten minutes of ads and paid the video creators nothing, both users and creators would ditch the platform – and advertisers would follow:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dab8sKg8Ko8

So platforms seek an equilibrium: "what is the least value we apportion to end-users and business customers without triggering their departure?" Maybe that means giving more value to end-users (for example, keeping Uber fares low by suppressing wages), or to business-customers (crowding more ads into your social media feed).

Every business – including brick-and-mortar, non-digitized ones – wants to find some kind of equilibrium between the value going to its suppliers, its customers and its owners, but digital businesses have an advantage here: digital systems are flexible in ways that analog, hard-goods businesses are not. Digital businesses can alter pricing, payouts and other dynamics from moment to moment – second to second – and make a different offer to every supplier and customer. They have a bunch of knobs, and they can twiddle them at will:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

Well, not quite at will. Businesses face constraints on their twiddling. If they get too greedy, users or business customers might weigh the cost of staying against the switching costs and decide it's not worth it. But the more expensive – the more painful – a platform can make leaving, the more pain they can inflict on the people who stay.

In other words, there's two ways to keep a customer or supplier's business: you can make a better service so they won't want to leave, or you can make leaving the service so painful that they stay even if you mistreat them.

There's three ways a digital company can make things worse for their customers and users without losing their business.

First, they can eliminate competition (think of Mark Zuckerberg buying Instagram to recapture the users who'd fled Facebook to escape his poor management):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

Second, they can capture their regulators and avoid punishment for trampling their suppliers' or users' legal rights (think of how Amazon has raised the price of everything we buy, both on- and off Amazon, through its "most favored nation" deals):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Third, they can use IP law to prevent competitors from modifying their services to claw back some of that value (think of how Apple used legal threats to block an Android version of Imessage, blocking Apple customers from having private conversations that included non-Apple customers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/12/youre-holding-it-wrong/#if-dishwashers-were-iphones

Companies can't just use this tricks at will, of course. Antitrust laws can block companies from making anticompetitve acquisitions or mergers. Regulators can punish companies for cheating their customers, workers and users. Technologists can come up with clever ways of modding or reconfiguring existing services with "interoperable" add-ons that let users bargain for better treatment by refusing to accept worse:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

Day in, day out, the decision-makers at tech companies test these constraints, twisting the knobs that shift value away from users to shareholders. Their bosses and boards motivate them with "KPIs" that dangle the promise of huge bonuses and promotions for any manager who successfully enshittifies part of the company's products:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

Decades of pro-corporate, pro-monopoly policy has loosened those knobs. 40 years of lax antitrust meant that companies had a lot of leeway to buy or merge with rivals – that's changing today, but it's tough sledding:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion

As sectors grew more concentrated, they found it easier to capture their regulators, so that they no longer fear punishment for price-gouging, spying, or wage-theft, so applying the same amount of torque to the "break the law" knob cranks it a lot further:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

Once you've captured your regulators, you can aim them at your competitors. A monopoly-friendly policy environment has transformed IP law into a bully's charter, allowing powerful companies to strangle would-be competitors who dare to offer their customers tools to shield themselves from enshittification, like scrapers, ad-blockers and alternative clients. Big companies can crank the enshittification knob all the way over and know that smaller rivals knobs won't turn at all:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model

At one point, bosses faced one more constraint on knob-twiddling: their workforce. Many tech workers genuinely cared about their users' welfare, something bosses encouraged as a sneaky trick to get techies to put in long hours without exercising their leverage by quitting rather than destroying their lives to meet arbitrary deadlines. These workers would fearlessly slap their bosses' hands when they reached for the enshittification knob, threatening to quit rather than allowing the products they'd given so much for to be enshittified. Today, after hundreds of thousands of tech layoffs, tech workers are far less like to challenge their bosses' right to twiddle, and far more likely to get fired if they try:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

All this means that tech bosses don't have to change their approach at all, and yet, their services will grow steadily worse. The boss who twiddles the enshittification knob in exactly the same way as he did a year or a decade ago will find it turning much further, because his customers are locked into his platform, his regulators won't protect them, the same regulators will stop his competitors' attempts at countertwiddling, and his workers fear losing their jobs too much to speak up for their users.

That's the contagion that produced the enshittocene: the forces that constrained companies (competition, regulation, self-help and labor – all melted away, allowing every company's MBA-poisoned knob-twiddling leaders to shamelessly caress their knobs with every hour that God sends:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

Which is why people want to leave platforms. When a platform loses its users, those users have weighed the switching costs against the pain of staying and decided that it's better to bear those costs than to stay.

So why have Tiktok's younger users found the costs too high to bear, and why have their elders remained stuck to the platform?

For that, we have to look at the unique characteristics of young people – characteristics that transcend the lazy cliche that kids are easily bored, fickle novelty-seekers who hop from one service to another with unquenchable restlessness.

Whether or not kids are novelty-seekers, they are, fundamentally, a disfavored minority. They want to do things that the platforms don't want them to do – like converse without being overheard by authority figures, including their parents and their schools (also: cops and future employers, though kids may not be thinking about them as much).

In other words, kids pay intrinsically lower switching costs than adults, because a platform will always do less for them than it will for grownups. This is a characteristic kids share with other supposedly technophilic, novelty-seeking "early adopters," from sex-workers to terrorists, from sexual minorities to trolls, from political dissidents to fascists. For those groups, the cost of mastering a new technology and assembling a community around it is always more likely to be worth bearing than it would be for people who are well-served by existing tools:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/21/early-adopters/#sex-tech

Pornographers didn't jump on home video because of its superiority as a medium for capturing flesh-tones. Home video was a good porn medium because it was easier to discreetly get into the hands of porn consumers, who could, in turn, discreetly view it. The audience for porn in the privacy of your living room is larger than the audience for porn that you can only watch if you're willing to be seen marching into a dirty movie theater.

Every new technology is popularized by a mix of disfavored groups and neophiles, who normalize and refine it – and yes, infuse it with their countercultural coolth – until it becomes easy enough to use to become mainstream. As more normies drift into the new system, the switching costs associated with leaving the old system declines. It gets easier and easier to find the people and services you want in the new realm, and harder and harder to find them in the old one.

This is why tech platforms have historically experienced sudden collapse: the platform that gets more valuable and harder to leave as it accumulates users gets less valuable and easier to leave as users depart:

https://www.zephoria.org/thoughts/archives/2022/12/05/what-if-failure-is-the-plan.html

If you're a Gen Z kid on Tiktok, you experience the same enshittification as your Millennial elders. But you also experience an additional cost to staying: as late-arriving adult authority figures become more fluent in the platform, they are more able to observe your use of it, and punish you for conduct that you used to get away with.

And if you're a Millennial who isn't leaving Tiktok, it's not just that you experience the same enshittification as those departing Gen Z kids – you also face higher switching costs if you go. The older you get, the more complex your social connections grow. A Gen Z kid in middle school doesn't have to worry about losing touch with their high-school buddies if they switch platforms (they haven't gone to high school yet – and they see their middle school friends in person all the time, giving them a side-channel to share information about who's leaving Tiktok and where they're headed to next). Middle-schoolers don't have to worry about coordinating little league car-pools or losing access to a rare disease support group.

In other words: younger people leave old platforms earlier because they have more to gain by leaving; and older people leave old platforms later because they have more to lose by leaving.

This is why Facebook is filled with Boomers. Yes, their kids bolted for the exits to avoid having their parents (or grandparents) wading into their sexual, social and professional lives. But the reason the Boomers were late joining younger users' Facebook exodus – or the reason they never joined it – is that they stand to lose more by going. Facebook deliberately cultivated this dynamic, for example, by creating a photo hosting service designed to entice users into uploading their family photos while disguising how hard it would be to take those photos with them if they left:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

The irony here is that tech has intrinsically low switching costs. All other things being equal, a new platform can always build a bridge to ease the passage of users from the old one. There's no (technical) reason that moving to Mastodon, or Bluesky, or any other platform should mean cutting ties with the people who stayed behind.

A combination of voluntary interoperability (where old platforms offer APIs to allow new services to connect with them), mandatory interop (where governments force tech companies to offer APIs) and adversarial interop (where new companies hack together their own API with reverse-engineering, scraping, bots, and other guerrilla tactics) would hypothetically allow users to hop between networks as easily as you change phone carriers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/19/better-failure/#let-my-tweeters-go

Tech platforms tend to offer APIs when they're getting started (to ease the inward passage of new users) then shut them down after they attain dominance (locking the door behind those users). The EU is tinkering with mandatory APIs through the Digital Markets Act (though bafflingly, they're starting with encrypted messaging rather than social media). Restoring adversarial interoperability will require extensive legal reform, which is getting started through Right to Repair laws:

https://www.techdirt.com/2024/03/13/oregon-passes-right-to-repair-law-apple-lobbied-to-kill/

The people who are stranded on social media platforms shouldn't be mistaken for uncool, aging technophobes. They're not stubborn, they're stranded. Like the elders who can't afford to leave a dying town after the factory shuts down and the young people move away, these people are locked in. They need help evacuating – a place to go and a path to get there.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/21/involuntary-die-hards/#evacuate-the-platformsr

[15-lizards]

ASOIAF modern AU class/wealth distinctions bc in the wise words of Mod Sam from the Inn at The Crossroads Discord: “i love modern aus where theyre like oh yeah the lannisters are filthy rich and here's the starks, piling into a minivan to go to public school. they would not fucking do that”

Lannisters: Private jets and COO/CEO/CFO positions at the family company and plain white tshirts that cost $5000. 1% of the 1%. They’re the Roys we already know this no need to elaborate.

Starks: they’re a rugged type of Minnesota/North Dakota/Wyoming wealth. Land rich. Own ranches and mining operations and oil drilling companies. Ppl think they’re normal bc they look like average farmers until they get a tour of their 300,000 acres and private mountain. Seem down to earth but grew up breeding ranch horses, don’t really understand what a car note is, and Nedcat paid for all the starklings college apartments. Also wear normal looking vests and ranching jeans and boots that cost absurd amounts

Tyrells: masters at the “quiet wealth” bullshit. Wayyyy older money compared to the Lannisters, and aren’t aggressive/scrappy like them bc of it. Literal aristocracy like lords or barons or some shit. Multiple residences, family tradition of politics, and loads of passive income. Maybe run a newspaper or two and own some global shipping companies bc of their merchant roots or whatever. Margaery was at one of those international debutante balls for the ubër-wealthy.

Tullys: Not as rich as the Tyrells or Lannisters but still nothing to scoff at. Not upper middle class but more like lower rungs of the upper class. Family tradition of sending all the kids to boarding school (that’s where Lysa got pregnant 🙂‍↕️) and they have some nice yachts and the like. Have one really nice permanent house on the river, a summer house upstate, and an apartment in the city. Normal enough to blend in with most people at their school. Also made their money thru shipping lanes.

Martells: Southern oil barons. Nymeria emigrated over and immediately discovered oil on her apparently shitty piece of land. Thousands of acres dedicated to drilling and cattle ranching. Awful for the environment but greenwash the fuck out of their business. Good at being a man of the ppl despite literally being in the one percent. Very publicly donate to progressive charities and causes to offset the backlash they get from pay the people who work for them slave wages. People stan them on Twitter because they’re hot and not like other billionaires.

Baratheons: slightly newer money but old enough to have no excuse to act the way they do. Loud annoying displays of wealth. Made their fortune mostly because they were good at being overly aggressive when it came to the stock market or sales or smthn idk what they do. Robert buys an egregious house in Florida where him and some other rich repulsive republicans do Labor Day weekend on their yachts with women they paid to be there. Absolutely terrible at saving their money (except Stannis and kinda Renly) and quite literally have to have their accounts frozen by their investment bankers. Actively going bankrupt.

Greyjoys: Not even rich anymore. Had a sizable shipping company at one point before they got poached bought out by the Lannisters. Also they engaged in too much tax fraud and embezzlement so now no one wants to touch them with a ten foot pole. Still live in their dilapidated cliffside house that’s literally ab to crumble into the sea. Theon got to live with the Starks bc once the Greyjoys got audited Ned felt bad.

Targaryens: REAL old money that stretches back like at least 500 years. Have had multiple income sources over the years and almost all of it is blood money of some kind and extracted through violence :) Giant ass portraits of their ancestors in their multiple residences, they all speak Valyrian at home, and they don’t even go to school it’s just private tutors. Obscene wealth that isn’t even fathomable to most people. Famously bred race horses and hunting dogs for a while until there was some familial infighting about ownership of the racetracks and stables and that collapsed. Got audited and investigated twenty years ago and Aerys just killed himself instead of going to jail.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Puppeteer’s Marionette

Based on a dream I had of a hunter!Matthias lol it just an idea i wanted to write idk

Rated Mature | Warnings: Matty kinda mean (affectionate), reader is from modern times

Wires, rods, hooks, puppets. Performance gloves, replacement parts, and tools to paint the puppet.

Matthias has shown you plenty of times how he works to create a puppet, often he is surprised you can sit there for hours watching him— Then again, anything dealing with him, you tend to hyperfocus on. Weirdo, he would say but never mean it… Gentle sweet you who falls asleep a few hours into watching him work, sharing the same space as him is often enough for you.

Thinking of him while looking at the poster on the wall of this theater, The Puppet With No Strings: Louis!

Or you think that is what it says… You cannot read French.

The theater map is big like Golden Cave, with three levels, and two exits and no one has seen the dungeon. You currently are in the front where the exit is after getting lost. The closest cipher is upstairs but the hunter is up there with Mind’s Eye. 

… She is the last survivor with you… Only two ciphers were completed but again no clue where the dungeon is.

The hunter has been flawless in taking out the survivors, trapping them before downing each one. Magician and Acrobat both got caught only two out of five ciphers in.

Witness the Fantastical Louis, this poster is in English.

You stand there reading the walls covered with posters, a hand touching the paper with Louis’ face… The smile is designed to look friendly and entertaining.

“Yup, still scary.” Shaking your head as you finish sightseeing to go find the dungeon upstairs after Mind’s Eye used the walkie-talkie to ping the hunter is nearby downstairs in the theater section. If she gets chaired, that is it. Upstairs the theater balcony and equipment rooms.

More posters of Louis but there are other posters of Louis.

No dungeon so far.

When you go to the balcony, you see the hunter on the stage— Finally, you see it fully rather than an outline.

Arms not fully attached to the body, transparent, fingers moving the way you have seen Matthias move his went doing puppetry, wooden designed. The hunter is tall, as to be expected for most except Robbie, they are wearing those showmen-type outfits though parts of them look burned… The most unsettling part is the parts that look like puppet attachments connected to key parts of the body… They specifically left the side of the body…

You are no Orpheus but in this case, the writing's on the wall who you are up against.

There are few in the manor with hunter counterparts, all of them a twisted funhouse mirror of them, a reminder of possibilities and the follies, yet Hastur once told you it can also be a way to face one's demons (he used a human term for you to understand).

You doubt the Baron cares about helping anyone process their trauma via being chased down by it…

“Helena watch out!” Shouting from above as one of the wooden ghostly hands moves and throws what seems to be glowing green wires. She barely avoids them but now the creature turns its gaze to you.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Running away when it starts moving, switching targets.

It will take a minute for the hunter to get up here unless it has teleport… Which it fucking does as the second you leave the balcony, the monster is there at a cipher on that same floor.

There it stands gazing down at you… Quiet. You can clearly see the parts that are human and the parts that are puppet. It is as if Matthias is using Louis to cover his scars or flaws.

“(Name).” The silence is broken by his voice that sounds off… Two-toned like Nightmare's voice. He steps forward and you step back. “You should run.” You see in his puppet hand is a pair of scissors.

“Matthias…” Standing there, “You look like a mini-boss from Bloodborne.”

Silence. Silence. Eyes narrow.

“I am trying to kill you and you're making jokes!?” Yelling at you, “Now is not the time to be joking!” Running at you thus making you run away.

You are the better kiter between Mind's Eye and yourself, you hope at least you can pull a three cipher kite as there are only three left. You ping Focus on decoding and are given a response of a cipher percentage ping.

Though you cracked a joke, one you know he does not understand, when you looked upon Puppeteer’s counterpart; you wonder if this is everything he despises in this creature, part puppet, part man, all wrong.

Two ciphers left. You need to shift the chase to downstairs where there is more room.

She went into the basement as two ciphers were down there and you survived jumping down from the balcony to the lower half of the theater audience section.

The Puppeteer threw something though before you landed and you feel and see wires tighten around your arms and legs.

Shit. You try moving but something is stopping you keeping you in place. The only thing you can move is your head which you turn to look around to see where the hunter went. He vaulted and his movement was slow enough that whatever he did to you lasted only a few seconds.

In this game, every second counts. Despite the delay, he still was able to strike you causing you now to kite wounded.

One cipher left. The percentage is five. Well if you go down it won't be too bad, you tried given the circumstances.

Your heart is racing, you swallow down your fear, you have to keep going! The backstage gives you better opportunities to try to palette stun or block. The only problem is Puppeteer can put wires to hinder you and do that weird trick.

Tight spaces, lots of things to throw at him— Which you did— And two ways out if you can make it.

The percentage is twenty-six, damn being wounded is slowing down the speed!

You need to buy time… Well… At least this is with Matthias.

He is behind you when he corners you, there you stand looking at him, wires closing off any way out without you getting caught. Both staring at one another.

“What is the plan now?”

“Not sure,” Shrugging, “Thought we could stand here staring at each other longingly.”

An eye roll, “No.”

“I could kiss you.”

“(Name)—”

“You should know I like kissing you a lot.” Point that out to him, “Come here!” Winking as you move forward only to realize you cannot move… “Oh, come on, Matty.” He hates that nickname. You see the thin strings wrapped around your arms and feel it squeeze around your neck, nothing painful just frim.

“You should learn to pay attention to the hands, not my face.”

That is true… The last cipher is at sixty percent… He can chair or bleed you out to go after the other survivor to get a complete win. Dropping your head in defeat.

His puppet hands’ fingers dance for a second making you lift your arms above your head, slightly bending them so it will not be too uncomfortable.

“You should have run for the dungeon,” Scolding you, “Running me around was stupid of you,” He leaned down, his gloved hand grabbing your chin and tilting your head up, “For once you had to be selfish,” Annoyed, “…You are always running towards me even when it could hurt you.” Sad as he examines your face, “(Name).” Saying your name mournfully.

Hastur says counterparts are far more in touch with the emotions of those they are the counter of, most are negative. Fool’s Gold's lack of morals, Nightmare's isolationism, Smiley’s obsessiveness, and Evil Reptilian's lack of restraint.

This counterpart seems… Sad? Still scary but with you he just seems sad.

“Matthias.” You try to move your arms wishing to comfort him but hiss in pain when the strings cut into your arms for trying to move against his wishes.

“Don't.” Turning your face to the left and right, “For once don’t try to chase me.”

You frown as he lets go of your face, again you try moving even as it hurts as you try breaking free. He releases you and for a moment you think you can reach out but then— Your body goes stiff, arms at your side as you stand up straight with no control of your limbs.

“Stop trying to reach for something not here.” Rolling his eyes as the extra pair of hands are the ones controlling the strings connected to you, “...” Raising an eyebrow at the way you are not looking at him while your lips are pressed together. “Seriously!?” Snapping at you.

“Sorry.” The loss of anatomical control and his stern tone with you is kinda hot.

“Tsk,” Clicking his tongue, “Do you do this with other hunters?” You shake your head at the question, “Would explain why it takes so long for you to return to the manor.”

You are shaking a bit not in anger but because you like it when he is a bit mean to you.

“How wet are you if I check?” Click of shifting wood makes your body stand with open legs, “(Name).” Accusing.

“This isn't fair.”

“I know.”

[annoyinglandmagazine]

First Time Reading Girl Genius Novels!

Airship City just arrived!!!! So just to clarify, I have read and am entirely up to date on the webcomic so don’t worry about spoiling anything! I’m also only really reacting to things that stick out to me while I’m reading the novels specifically, I already know the story. So without further ado let’s get into it:

Heterodyne Boys content! Hell yes!

Bill silently cleaning his weapons while Barry worries about him is so wholesome and sad at the same time. It is a tragedy that we never really get to see much of this sibling dynamic because it seems really sweet.

The thumbs up signal too, just a little snapshot of how they were before all this.

Damn the Other is terrifying, just picking all the main players off one by one until no one’s even being accused anymore because it’s so clearly something on another level.

‘It was the most Bill had spoken this week.’ This is just too depressing

It’s kind of weird to be reminded that the Heterodynes did actually win against the Other; the end to their story is just so far from triumphant it feels like a loss.

Actual descriptions of the way the locket and the Spark impacts Agatha’s mind!

The atmosphere of Beetleburg is really fleshed out which is nice.

‘Jägermonsters found everything amusing. Except when people tried to beg for mercy. That they found downright hilarious.’ Ha!

The implications that ordinary household appliances have kill modes installed that are only activated in the presence of a strong Mechanicsburg accent should surprise me more than it does

There is so much irony in Agatha hiding the fact she reads Heterodyne Boy novels from her adoptive parents Punch and Judy.

‘If a mad scientist wasn’t at war with at least two of his neighbours it was because he had his back to the sea and even then he had to watch out for an invasion of intelligent sea urchins.’ Europa really is just Like That

The fact the Heterodynes represented hope to the average people because they actually tried gives me so many emotions

Moloch’s narration is a lot more sympathetic than he comes across in the comic at the start.

The general populace automatically getting worried at Sparky tones even with no context is a nice touch

Jägers and their terrible pick up lines make a first appearance

Beetle was really very sweet to Agatha and meant well which I tend to forget because of the whole Hive Engine first impression

‘Glassvitch’s specialty was chemical engineering which minimised his experience with hysterically sobbing young ladies.’

Something, something, “science is better than emotions or people” is both extremely autistic and a very common take in Girl Genius which I love.

Klaus’ backstory is once again so depressing.

Also the fact no one took him seriously because he was an adventurer who let Bill and Barry take the spotlight and then he just came back out of nowhere, challenged anyone to try and take him on and ended up taking over a significant part of the continent, is kind of badass.

Oh Agatha, assassination attempts since he was revealed are nothing in the wide array of shit going on to make Gil the way he is; that is so far from the problem that to call it the tip of the iceberg would be assigning it too much importance

Boris being known and feared almost as much as the Baron, hell yes, that long suffering man deserves respect for his efforts.

‘He clutched the fishbowl to his chest protectively’ Gil, I love you

Klaus swinging an arm around Gil’s shoulder and patting it while smiling and calling him his son non critically might be the most affection we’ve ever seen him express.

Why do I feel like this is peak healthiness for their relationship, the bar is in the fucking basement

Klaus and Gil ‘eyed each other, as if each were embarrassed at the thought of speaking first. Finally the Baron cleared his throat and said, “Yes, Gil, what do you think of that?”

The description makes that already hilarious interaction so much better. Their whole role in this confrontation reads as second hand embarrassment at the poor planning of their enemies and awkwardness at being remotely associated with this disaster of an coup

‘Klaus looked disgusted’ yep that’s definitely it.

The Wulfenbach Empire understanding that most Sparks really only want praise, a space to work, something to challenge them and someone to make sure they eat is hilarious.

Worldbuilding in the form of universe specific bigotry is my jam. The way constructs get portrayed as comic relief in pop culture due to a culture of discrimination is ingenious. I also appreciate the touch that Klaus has strong and public opinions on this though I suppose it’s not that surprising considering he himself is one in some sense.

I think Lilith teaching music and dance is a new detail and it’s nice to flesh their lives out more, it fits what little we know about her really well.

They are such good parents and this is just adorable

That’s all for now, I’ll pick it up again later!

[somelegobird]

EVIL ARC

What every Ninjago Character has said they love(d) HATED

Exactly the same as my love list, same rules, same premise (except that it's about hating now). However it has its own doc so as to not clog the other doc. It's only checked up to the same point as the last doc, but it seems like the transcripts are slowly getting updated PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PL

Anywa

Arin

Rapton

Cole

Dragons (used to)

Snakes (three times | | | )

To hurt Rocky’s feelings

Telling Master Wu that if they don't get out before Pythor unleashes the Great Devourer, he thinks this will be the end of all their destinies.

Working as a bank security guard

Being a kid

To leave a mark on their past selves

Admitting Kai is onto something

Bringing up the fact that parachutes would’ve come in handy

Heights

Dareth

Admitting that Harumi was right

Garmadon

The First Spinjitzu Master

The ninja

Magic

Iron Baron

Manure

Jay

Samurai (four times | | | | )

Telling Nya that objects in the mirror are closer than they appear

Sunrise exercise

Saying that Cole deserved a little to get hit by Garmadon

Being leader

Losing

Unbeatable creatures

Breaking up the reunion between the replacement ninja

Doing laundry

Rates

Kai

Feeling helpless

Technology

Having to check Skylor’s back for a tattoo

To let anyone down (literally (this was part of a witty quip))

Water

The Sword of Sanctuary

Telling Morro in Lloyd’s body to watch out for the cliff edge

Ninja

Iron Baron

The new Ninja

Saying that he doesn’t feel anything after attempting dragon form

Fireproof monsters

Kapau

Admitting that maybe Chen losing his army wasn’t a bad thing

Krux

Electronic devices

When Acronix makes up sayings

Lloyd

Vegetables

Not having a full team

To sleep

Lou

Kai’s hair

Miss Demeanor

The country(side)

Morro

Waiting

Nya

Getting called “cute”

Feeling left out

Breaking it to Wu that sometimes elemental powers can skip a generation

Dresses 

Not having tunes on the ride

Harumi

Ice

The Never-Realm

Pythor

Being small

Rapton

All of the Ninja

Vania

Spiders, especially huge slobbering ones with fangs

Wu

Thinking about what would happen if Morro got the Realm Crystal

Wyldfyre

Missing jokes

And same as last time, the things ordered by season and copied directly are below

Rise of the Serpentine

(Rise of the Snakes) Lloyd: I hate vegetables! (Starts grunting and falls down.)

(Rise of the Snakes) Cole: If there was anything I hated more than dragons, it was snakes.

(Snakebit) Cole: I hate to hurt Rocky's feelings, but I think he's just been replaced.

(Can of Worms) Cole: That's it. I used to hate Dragons, but now I officially hate snakes.

(Can of Worms) Cole: Ugh, I hate snakes.

(The Snake King) Jay: I'm gonna say it: I hate Samurai.

(The Snake King) Jay: ARGH!! I HATE THAT SAMURAI!!!!

(Tick Tock) Young Garmadon: I hate you.

(Once Bitten, Twice Shy) Jay: Heh. So that Samurai. Oh, man. I hate him, don't you?

(Once Bitten, Twice Shy) Jay: Though I hate the Samurai, where is he when you actually need him?

(The Royal Blacksmiths) Lou: Kai, love the energy, hate the hair.

(All of Nothing) Cole: I hate to break it to you, Sensei, but if we don't get out of here before Pythor unleashes the Great Devourer, I think this will be the end of all our destinies.

(Day of the Great Devourer) Jay: Uh, hate to tell you this, but objects in the mirror are closer than they appear.

Legacy of the Green Ninja

(Darkness Shall Rise) Cole: Eh, that's okay. I hated that job anyway.

(Ninjaball Run) Garmadon: No! I hate those ninja!

(Child’s Play) Cole: I hated being a kid!

(Wrong Place, Wrong Time) Cole: I'd hate to leave a mark.

(The Stone Army) Jay: I hate sunrise exercise.

(The Last Voyage) Kai: Ugh, I hate feeling helpless.

Rebooted

(The Surge) Cole: Guys, hate to admit it, but maybe Kai is onto something.

(Blackout) Jay: I hate to say it, but you deserved that a little.

(Enter the Digiverse) Kai: Aah! I HATE TECHNOLOGY!

(The Titanium Ninja) Cole: I hate to bring this up now, but parachutes would've come in handy.

Tournament of Elements

(Spy for a Spy) Kai: Uh, I hate to do this, but it's your turn. Can I see your back, please?

(The Day of the Dragon) Kapau: I hate to admit it, but maybe Chen losing his army wasn't such a bad thing.

(The Day of the Dragon) Garmadon: I always hated Magic.

(The Greatest Fear of All) Pythor: I really hate being small! 

(The Greatest Fear of All) Kai: I'd hate to let anyone down, but...Fire!

(The Corridor of Elders) Nya: The new girl hates feeling left out.

Possession

(Stiix & Stones) Kai: I'm fine with heights. It's water I hate.

(Stiix & Stones) Nya: I hate to break it to you, but sometimes Elemental Powers can skip a generation.

(Stiix & Stones) Jay: I hate being leader, but I hate losing even more.

(Peak-a-Boo) Cole: I hate heights.

(Kingdom Come) Morro: But I hate waiting!

(Kingdom Come) Kai: I hate that sword.

(Kingdom Come) Kai: Hate to spoil this next, but just 'cause you're in my friend's body, watch out!

(The Crooked Path) Wu: If Morro finds it first and takes the Realm Crystal, I'd hate to think what would happen next.

(Curseworld, Part II) Jay: Oh, I hate unbeatable creatures.

Skybound

(Infamous) Kai: Yeah. You're right. Ninja, ugh, hate 'em.

(Operation Land Ho!) Nya: Ugh! I hate dresses.

(The Way Back) Jay: Ugh, I hate to break up the reunion, but may I remind you we have a wedding to stop?

Hands of Time

(The Hatching) Krux: I hate those infernal devices most of all!

(Scavengers) Nya: I hate not having tunes on the ride, but the USB port is the only way to power you back up.

(Scavengers) Lloyd: I hate not having a full team.

(Lost in Time) Krux: I hate when you make up sayings!

Sons of Garmadon

(The Oni and the Dragon) Jay: Aw, I always hated doing laundry.

(Game of Masks) Nya:Well now I hate her!

Hunted

(Iron & Stone) Kai: His throne. I already hate him.

(How to Build a Dragon) Iron Baron: Manure! I hate manure!

(The Weakest Link) Dareth: I hate to admit it, but she's right.

Secrets of the Forbidden Spinjitzu

(And Unlikely Ally) Nya: That's it! I hate ice! And I hate this... this place! And I hate...!

Master of the Mountain

(The Skull Sorcerer) Vania: I hate spiders, especially huge slobbering ones with fangs!

Seabound

(A Big Splash) Miss Demeanor: Ah, I hate the country.

Crystalized

(The Shape of Nya) Kai: I'm starting to hate them.

(Darkness Within) Jay: I hate rats!

(An Issue of Trust) Kai: I hate to say it, but ... I don't feel anything.

Dragons Rising s1

(Writers of Destiny) Kai: I hate fireproof monsters!

(We Are All Dragons) Arin: I hate Rapton too, but let's at least hear him out.

(We Are All Dragons) Rapton: I hate you all too, like, so much. 

Dragons Rising s2

(The Blood Moon) Lloyd: Okay, look... I've been having dreams that are so vivid, so frightening, I hate to sleep.

(Force from the East) Wyldfyre: What's so funny? Was there a joke? Oh, I hate missing jokes!

[yandere-wishes]

♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢 ♡⠀

♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢⠀♡⠀♡⠀🦢 ♡⠀

Hot Take: Swan Lake (But make it Yancore)

Act 1 Scene 1

But has anyone ever thought about the misery that lies concealed beneath the waves of Swan Lake? A love that's molded over tenfold, yet still continues to rot?

Has anyone ever thought about how in love Baron von Rothbart must have been? How desperate he was to gain Odette's adoration that he sentenced her to his own prison? None shall have her, should he be unable to possess her. It's a promise he makes in a kiss of smoke and stardust. 

Rothbart is a creature sewn of flames and feathers. Carved from abomination and power. Strong and weak all in the same breath. Yet ultimately a prisoner too, just like his dear Odette. Rothbart's bones are his glided cage, his own powers his jailer. He knows banishment and imprisonment as if they were his architects. He recognizes isolation like the kiss of a lost lover. He's lord of the swans, the owls, the crows, the birds, he's the lord of everything except Odette's heart. 

So he curses her. Not out of malice, never malice, but out of love, devotion. Maybe, just maybe if she could bear his burden. she too would come to understand. He curses her with his likeness. Curses her with a lore and a crown and everything he has always had. He turns her into something only he could love. 

And at the end of the day, it works too...

Act 1 Scene 2

Poor Odette, poor sweet Odette. Everyone knows of her tragedy, her curse, her death. Yet has anyone ever seen the sorrow that resides within her brittle bones? 

Half swan, Half human. Yet never belonging to either world.

No one's ever thought of how she's felt throughout these years. The way the feathers stick out of her flesh even when she's human again. The way her voice imitates the call of a swan, every second syllable emphasized.

Even the full moon can not fully return that which Rothbart stole. 

Oh, Rothbart. Even his name sends waves of hate throughout her body. 

There's resentment in her bones. Hate too deep and passionate for words

What is this called again? Obsession, abhorrence, loathing?

Yet even with this spirited hate, all she can do is wait, wither away until imposible love finds her. 

But when Siegfried finds her that's when the world really starts to fall apart. Because he's a prince, cold yet lovable. Soft like dandelions and as precious as the lilypads that infest the pond. 

He's everything she's ever wanted.

And yet...

There's this leap in logic whenever he's concerned. He can't understand the pain she's been through. He'll never truly comprehend the weight of the curse. How suffocating its invisible shackles are, how deteriorated her mind has become. 

Siegfried is a prince in every definition of the word... 

But Siegfried can't understand the horrors she bears in her heart. The nightmares that never seize and the burden of living between worlds.

So maybe, just maybe that's why she throws herself into Rothbart's arms one dreadful night. Because for all his countless flaws Rothbart can -at the very least- comprehend her anguish. Who better to understand the burden of a curse than its caster? Then the one born with the same spell in his veins. 

The curse is straightforward "a spell broken only once you are loved by someone who has never loved before." 

Has Rothbart ever truly loved someone? Should she try to gain his love? maybe she's had it this whole time...Maybe she's also loved him this whole time...

Or maybe she's grown addicted to the sting of his teeth along her jugular and his bruising grip on her hips when they pirouette. Maybe there's a form of deification in the burn marks his feathers leave across her skin. A silent "I Love You" too fragile to be spoken. 

There's something wrong with his kisses - they burn like a thousand hells and leave an aftertaste akin to poison- there's something wrong with the way her name falls from his lips. 

There's something wrong with him...

So why is she starting to want him?

Maybe it's the trauma he's spilled into her lungs. Or how easily he makes the nightmares go away. Maybe it's the palliative sensation as he caresses all her flaws, kissing them as if they were holy. Maybe it's because whether swan or human she knows he'll love her. He'll understand. 

How she wishes sweet Siegfried could do the same...

Act 2 scene 1 

Odile chokes on night air and stardust. Bursting at the seams to be seen. She can't remember a time when she's been anything but darkness. Anything but a second thought. 

She was born with feathers and a body meant to endure. Her mother, the dark arts. Her father, the lord of all who fly. She is more creature than human. A testament to the dark. 

So what if she grew up spoiled? With every luxury thrown at her feet. It all means very little when you've never known the touch of another soul. When isolation has been your sole companion from the moment you emerged from your egg. 

There's darkness within her that her father nourishes. Yet not even he can provide her with mitigation, camaraderie, happiness. 

So maybe, just maybe that's why when she sees the prince for the first time. The world illuminates. She's sent to seduce him. To claim another victory for her father. But she positively melts when she feels his warm hands on her skin. The smile aimed at her is brighter than every ray of the sun.

If it's merely a deceit, then why does her heart pound like a caged bird among her ribs? Why does her blood flow to her cheeks upon seeing his smile? Why oh why does she feel this way, this need? To make him hers.

The black swan falls for the prince even if it's only meant to be a ploy, a ruse, another cruel game orchestrated by the wicked baron. How painful it must be to love for the first time and know it can only end in woe. How painful it must be to rot in endless heartache. 

How she wishes to kiss him, just once. As he holds her hand and dances with her in front of a royal crowd. His eyes shine with an adoration she's never seen before. Is this love? Is this what she's been robbed of her whole life?

How she dies a thousand deaths when Siegfried utters Odette's name. 

What she wouldn't sacrifice to hear him call her name instead...

Act 2 Scene 2

Imagine the black swan and the white swan actually get a chance to meet away from preying eyes and endless expectations. Imagine they understand each other's pain like two dying stars. 

There's a lake in a forest where dreams go to die. A sparkling oasis where curses run ramped. In the glow of a lonely moon, Odette sits by the lake. Watching her fellow prisoners dance the night away. 

Her heartache is unbearable tonight, she'll deem it a miracle should she see sunrise. Odile collapses next to her, bathing in her loneliness. A shade of grey encompasses the two of them, 

They're too tired to hate. Too tired to fight. For tonight they are both just lost souls looking for the light.  

Imagine the white swan and the black swan actually understand each other. 

One cursed to be a swan. The other born into its likeness. 

"I want to die," Odette mutters her tone is all burdon and pain. 

"Death would be too easy, dear princess. We were both made to suffer" Odile replies, stating the only fact she's still sure of. 

Odette stands, a queen with no crown. Her eyes staring at her flock of swans. She outstretches her hand and beckons Odile for a dance. Just two birds trapped within the same aviary.

Odile's hand fits perfectly in Odette's. Fingers entwined as if slipping into each other's souls. Two juxtapositions, dancing as if they were one. Each step mirroring the other. 

Every jete, every arabesque, every graceful move, further entwines their fate. Guiding them to an answer, a clarification neither knew existed. 

The younger swans gather around them. Embracing them. Odette and Odile were created for this world. Both doomed by Rothbart and revered by Siegfried. Stronger together.

Two birds of a feather, who must die together... 

Final Act

Imagine the black swan and the white swan decide to die together. Standing at the edge of the lake. Hands crossed, holding each other. Legs moving in a thousand tiny Bourrees. Siegfried and Rothbart cry out, trying to reach them. It's futile, the two swans have made their choice. The waves below beckon. 

Odette and Odile, know that together no one will ever hurt them again. 

Imagine sacrificing love in its entirety to ensure the safety of the other swans, of each other. Imagine accepting the curse, believing that one must embrace it to be able to live a prosperous life. The two swans fall together, a double suicide, an act of devotion. 

Maybe just maybe the world will finally learn how devoted and mercurial a maiden's heart truly is. 

Before the Prince and Baron can shed their tears, a creature emerges from the lake. A single swan made up of halves. A testament to both princesses. A queen in its entirety. Two wings of black and white hang from her shoulder blades. A crown of white and black adorned her head. There is no longer an Odette, a cursed girl awaiting love. There is no longer an Odile a baroness of evil. There is only the swan queen. 

And she will make the world bow. 

tags: @average-yandere-enjoyer @vereya @coral-relevium @overthinkingit56

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Cinderella Doesn’t Believe in Fairytales (part 9)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3). (Part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

Baron Ramsey knows a secret.

It is a very good position to be in, to be a noble and to know an important secret. The base of the aristocracy’s power comes from secrets after all and knowing one that many others don’t  means he holds a special power. A different power. An important power.

Baron Ramsey subtly pulls his collar away from his neck as he’s led down the long, ornate hall to the audience chamber. He can feel a bead of sweat just shy of his hairline and he hopes it doesn’t roll down his temple at the wrong moment. The knight leading him to the King and Queen has a hand on the silver hilt of his sword. He doesn’t look back at the Baron, but Baron Ramsey can feel his attention regardless. Like a flock of birds looking down from the trees as you pass underneath.

Knowing a secret is a very good thing, he reminds himself. He dabs away the bead of sweat a beat before the knight opens the doors the audience chamber. He most likely has only been called to discuss a new item the Queen wants. Something that he who spends so much time abroad could find for her. It is a common occurrence. That is why he takes pains to never let her find him at home.

“Baron David Ramsey,” the knight announces. He steps smartly to the side and bows without ever once looking at the occupants of the room. “Your majesties.”

Baron David Ramsey. His name curls inside of his chest and settles like a band around his lungs. When he was a boy, his father took him to meet the Queen and King. His father said it was only natural to feel anxious and frightened in their presence. Natural and right, even. But now he can feel the unnaturalness in it and he struggles to take the first step forward. He could be crushed by their attention alone.

For our Cinder, he thinks and watches his feet carry him forward to kneel before the King and Queen.

The heavy, wood doors swing shut, sealing him alone inside.

“Rise, Baron,” the Queen says. Her voice is like the ocean. Trickling and light until the syllables collide into each other like waves. Then he can hear the depth of it, the power in it.

He rises and finally looks up at the thrones.

The Queen is draped in purple. Ribbons of the finest silk are braided into her hair, ranging from violet to lilac. She is sitting upright, her hands placed carefully on the arms of the chair so he can see the length and sharpness of her lavender nails.

Baron Ramsey’s heart beats faster, like a rabbit, when he sees the Queen. But it stops in its tracks when he sees the King.

The King isn’t seated on his throne. He is standing a step behind the Queen, his hands resting on the hilt of a sheathed sword that he’s using like a cane. He is dressed entirely in black except for a single piece of amethyst embedded in his obsidian crown.

He is not pretending to be a co-ruler right now. He is showing what he really is. The Queen’s one and only personal knight.

They know, the Baron thinks. He sways on the spot. They know I know.

“Welcome home, Baron David Ramsey,” the Queen says. She smiles and her teeth are astonishingly sharp. The King seems out of proportion behind her, his limbs a little too long and his eyes a little too deep set. The Queen laughs and it sounds like bells. “Welcome home to the Unseelie Court.”

Knowing a secret is a very good thing…until it’s no longer a secret at all.

--------.

Baron Ramsey is not a clever man. He used to think he was. Oh! The folly of youth. He’d been determined to reclaim the noble prestige his father had lost and had spent many years searching for the right thing to leverage into a higher position. Trade deals, a new variety of crops, attempting to gain protection from one of the Kingdom’s three dukedoms. He tried it all to no avail.

Then he went into the West Mountains.

He went to find a diamond mine. Journals from his ancestors spoke of treasure to the West. The entries never specified where to the west, but David Ramsey did not have many options. They did not have land of their own to mine and he did not want to rent it from the dukedoms which had rejected his service. So he took some money and his father’s disappointment west.

He did not come back with sacks full of diamonds.

He came back with a wife.

“I will marry you,” she said the day he proposed. Her hair was so pale blonde that it nearly blended in with the snow swirling around them. Her eyes the blue of a clear winter sky seemed to see through him. “But it will cost you. There is always a cost when you meet someone like me.”

And love-blind he said, “Whatever the cost, I will pay it. I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

Her lips thinned. She had already told him her years were numbered. Her lifespan slipped through an injury from the attack that had decimated her land. It would never fully heal. Did it make his love more shallow than hers that he knew how many years he must dedicate to her? She would be giving him the rest of her life. He would be giving her a mere years.

But, love-blind as well, she said, “The cost is this: you will never be a Duke or a Marquis or even nobility with land. You will stay a landless Baron. There will never be plenty in your coffers just as there will never be nothing in them. You must do nothing to attract attention to yourself or to me. We must live in solitude.”

“But we will live together,” he said. He felt the conviction in his heart and he got down onto one knee, uncaring of the ice on the ground. He held her hand between two of his. “My time with you will be all the treasure I need. If I have your attention, I need no other. Let me love you. Please.”

“You must never say please,” she chided gently. But she let him slip his mother’s ring onto her finger and she followed him down the mountain to the lush greenery below.

She gathered her power carefully in her chest when she stepped over the boundary between her land and this new one. Her Court lay dead behind her, but it did not mean the Unseelie Court would be forgiving enough to let her live. She wanted to live. She wanted to live with this human whose ancestors had once been her enemy and whose rulers were her enemy now. He did not hold their nature. He was human and perfect despite it.

For a while, they were happy. Truly they were. She supported him in finding new connections beyond the Kingdom to finance them. They soothed each other when his father passed. He had become like a father to her too. And when they had their daughter, she was still happy.

Something changed. She didn’t know what (or did not want to consider it). Her husband began to travel more and, having to take care of their child, she could not go with him. More than once she wondered if he still loved her. He had promised to let their time together be his treasure, but she did not feel treasured watching him disappear down the road alone. She spent hours staring in the direction he left, paralyzed by the fear of asking. Did he still love her? Did he still want to be with her?

Her daughter’s eyes were always on her. She had too much to lose.

She did not ask.

It wasn’t until she found their child killing ants in the garden with a sneer twisting her perfect face that she was confronted with the fact her absent husband might secretly hold part of her enemy’s nature after all. She felt it pulsing from their child like the night sky overtaking the horizon. It was only then that she realized what the Unseelie Court had become.

“They were dying like we were,” she told the Baron. He was coming home less and less. The cost he paid to be with her was driving a wedge between them. He wanted to provide more  for their daughter and her restrictions kept him from trading within the boundary of the Kingdom. “The Queen held less morals than I did when I ruled my lands. She did not keep the Court pure. She let her powers spread thin outside of the Inner Court in hopes that one kernel of it would spark and ignite stronger than ever.”

“What are you saying?” The Baron asked.

“Our Cinder,” she said in a trembling voice. She watched out the window as their daughter ran after butterflies in the garden. “She has a spark of the Unseelie Queen.” From you. “And she will inherit my powers as well. She will be everything they want, David, she will be beyond what they want—"

“We’re safe,” the Baron interrupted. Conversation about the Queen made him uncomfortable these days. He did not tell his wife, but he had taken a contract with the Queen who had noticed of his foreign trade. She paid better than other kingdoms for harmless things. Jewels and fabric in ever shade of purple he could find. He avoided his wife’s eyes lest she discover his duplicity. “Your barriers are strong. They won’t find us here. They won’t find our Cinder.”

“You’re not listening,” she cried.

“You are worrying over matters that can’t reach us,” he soothed and that was the end of that.

But she knew he was wrong. He was human and did not understand the nature of the fae as she did. She had already been teaching her daughter how to behave like a fae. Now, she knew, she needed to teach her daughter how to avoid becoming the sort of fae who would attract attention.

I must teach her to be kind, she thought, holding her daughter to her chest that night. Memories of her Court screaming crowded in from all side. The look on her daughter’s face while she killed the ants seemed darker in her memory. Kindness will thwart this darker nature. I only have three years left. Only three years.

It would not be enough time.

[-------

Thanks for reading!

If you’d like to read more parts of Cinderella a week earlier, please consider checking out my Patreon (X)! Currently there is a new superhero story up based on this prompt by writing-prompt-s!

You are a villain famous for “killing” heroes. In reality, heroes come to you to fake their deaths.

On top of posting all my stories a week earlier there, I also post Patreon Exclusives.

[bacchanal-if]

Fox · the Courtly Charmer

❥ Orientation: (f/m) demiro/demisex ❥ Possible Identities: Tamsin/Thomas, Henrietta/Henry, Lucia/Laurence

Suave, charming, devoted—the perfect lady or gentleman. It is evident they know who you are, and they seem intent on capturing your heart. Tread carefully, they will do their best to sweep you off your feet and into their arms.

Rabbit · the Flustered Ingenue

❥ Orientation: (f/m) demiro/demisex ❥ Possible Identities: Tamsin/Thomas, Henrietta/Henry, Lucia/Laurence

Gentle and kind, hoping and hesitant. All they’ve ever wanted is to love and be loved. Can they trust you to be their one and only?

⚑ Butterfly · the Mysterious Rake

❥ Orientation: (f/m) grayro/omnisex ❥ Possible Identities: Edith/Edward, Henrietta/Henry, Lucia/Laurence

Darkly alluring and dangerously seductive. To you they are a closed tome. To them you are an open book. It is unwise to be reckless when you catch their interest, lest you succumb to their hunger.

⚑ ??? · the Uninvited Guest ❥ Orientation: (?) aro/pansex ❥ Possible Identities: ?

How refreshing you are to them.

⚑ Edith/Edward Egerton · the Loathed Betrothed

❥ Orientation: (f/m) ❥ Romanceable In: Every masked route ❥ Possible Identities: Butterfly

You’ve never so much as spoken a word to them and yet they’ve asked for your hand—circuitously. They are the only tradesperson said to match your father’s ruthlessness and wealth.

Tamsin/Thomas Baker · the Returning Friend

❥ Orientation: (f/m) ❥ Romanceable In: Every masked route except Rabbit's ❥ Possible Identities: Fox, Rabbit

Your childhood—and only—friend. Who was once your treasured confidant is now a near stranger, and the distance between you can be measured by their once easy smile devoured by sad lonely eyes. They’ve worked in your family’s gardens since they were able to hold shears, and were promoted to head gardener when the last overseer perished.

Lady Henrietta, Countess/Lord Henry, Earl of Great Northrope · the Reclusive Deviant

❥ Orientation: (f/m) ❥ Possible Identities: Fox, Rabbit, or Butterfly

The host of the fabled Bacchanal, and the only child of the most influential peers of the ton: the Duke and Duchess of Thornwall, Earl and Countess of Great Northrope. Their austere and reserved manner is betrayed by their reputation for glutenous depravity. Despite this they are hunted by debutantes and widows alike for their status. They seem in no hurry to shed their singlehood.

Lady Lucia, Baroness/ Lord Laurence, Baron of Oxburn · the Affable Socialite

❥ Orientation: (f/m) ❥ Possible Identities: Fox, Rabbit, or Butterfly

The inextricable bosom friend of Henrietta/Henry. Where their friend is a pall upon the room they are a source of light. Their amiable company draws everyone to them like moths to a flame, and it’s easy to quit their company feeling quite blessed by their attentions.

[makeitagood0neao3]

Weather Me To Nothing (1/4)

Pairing: Dark!Paul Atreides x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3,916

Summary: Reader is the heir to the throne with an impossible choice to make. Torn between protecting her sisters and finding her way in the universe, will she make the right choice?

Warnings: Dark!Paul Atreides. 18+ only! Explicit sexual content. Arranged Marriage. Non con. See tags for more.

A/N: Welcome and enjoy! Comment and kudos are always welcome <3 Crumble like a temple built from future daughters, To wasteland when the oceans recede.

Read Part 2

The chamber is so quiet, the heels of your shoes echo off the walls as you approach the throne. He is sitting on his gold throne, the House Corrino crest behind him. The lion is bright, making you blink hard as it reflects the light simulating daylight. Behind you, the heavy doors that offer complete privacy clang shut, sealing you in. The hall is nearly empty with only his most trusted advisors and Mentats present. A controlled amount of witnesses. As a child, the sight of the Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV would stop you in your tracks until your mother swept you into her arms and carried you to him. As his eldest child, you were a representation of not only the House, but your younger sisters as well. Now an adult, every movement you make it watched, hesitations noted. Should the tempo of your gait falter, it will be documented. You father still fills the room, though not in size. You once imaged him as huge, the size of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen.

Your father has aged. Perhaps only you can see how his shoulders slump in his chair, though you know his physicality is not a representation of his power. Even now, as you pass by scattered members of his court, you can sense their tension, their straight spines and clenched jaws. He doesn’t need to raise his hand to strike anyone down, including you. When your mother died, he made you an example of your sister’s behavior in front of his followers. The last time you were here just mere weeks ago was the most furious you’ve ever seen him, though his wrath didn’t end in physical punishment.

Playing the long game, he knew to keep you waiting on your planet. Day by day with your toes in the warm sand on the shore, night by night kept distracted from your studies and instead obsessing over this moment, waiting for the moment he would call upon you to return. The Emperor is always a step ahead and you’ve always been clumsy.

Impulsive. Insolent. A disgrace.

You keep your gaze low, though your chin level, every click of your heel is a countdown until you are in front of him. You half bow, a sign of respect, though you have none for the man. When you meet his gaze, you ensure a light smile is on your lips, as if happy to see him. He meets you with the same grin, the crows feet around his eyes deepening. You learned as a child that his throne is also a stage. A place where he can play any role he chooses.

The forgiving Emperor. The doting father. The aging fanatic.

“Daughter. Thank you for arriving so quickly. I hate to take you away from your studies.”

“I answer every call from my Emperor and father,” you smile back. Knowing he wants to hear this above all else, you assure him of your loyalty to him and his empire.

“I have been reflecting on your most recent transgressions against this family and I believe I have found a way for you to atone.”

“I ask again, where is the evidence of this transgression?” You challenged lightly.

You still don’t agree that sending an anonymous warning to Duke Leto that his mission on Arrakis was an attack on his family and House was a transgression. Treason against the Emperor, yes. No one in this court had proof it was you, except for your outspoken disagreement before him and his council. It took hours to slip away from your guards and lure the transmissions Mentat away from his post. The message was sent, but it seems too late. He was reported dead before dawn.

He lowers his chin, his angular face pointing at you like a bird of prey, ready to snatch you from the spot with his talons. It takes everything in your to keep your hands still at your sides, to not pick or clench your fingers. Behind you, the sound of the heavy doors open. You don’t take your eyes off of the predator in front of you, though, a coy smile on your lips. Heavy footsteps echo as the visitors approach. Refusing to give into him, you keep your gaze fixed ahead.

“You have been of age for quite some time. As my oldest daughter, I have saved your union for a worthy ally. I have found the most loyal of them to strengthen the empire!” He says this with enthusiasm, deep in his deluded belief. Everything he does is to strengthen his position.

Your smile falters, lips pressed tightly as you clasp your hands together in front of you, hoping to prevent them from shaking. You knew this was coming, one day. Though as the least poised and submissive daughter in his line, you doubted he would risk marrying you off with an ally. Keen on keeping your nose in books and studies on your quiet planet, you have successfully avoided meeting most eligible matches while portraying the attitude of aloof. Most of the wealthy bachelors don’t want to work too hard to woo someone smarter than them. Someone who has everything and is impressed by nothing. You have tried to instill this in your younger sisters to no avail.

His pleased expression is not enough to convince you that this is not a punishment. Atonements in House Corrino are paid in blood. Duke Leto atoned for his House’s success in the empire with his. Your mother paid for it when she died in child labor. Though you share a bloodline with the Emperor, you are subject to the same kind of cruelty.

The footsteps are loud and thunderous before the stop directly behind you, an ominous shadow. You can feel their gaze on your back, but you are too afraid to see who it is. Too afraid of giving your father the satisfaction of your dismay on your face. To your right, a large form invades your space, standing so his shoulder nearly grazes yours.

At least a head taller than you, the brother of the beast, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. He’s lean, made of chiseled muscle built to slaughter his enemies. His pale skin is contrasted by his black armor. His hairless head emphasizes his deep set black eyes. He doesn’t spare you a glance, instead keeping his attention on the Emperor. You turn back to your father, eyes wide as you shake your head. Always ready with a quip, you are truly speechless. This man killed his own father and not known for his brain, but his brutality.

This is the man your father settles you with?

“Feyd-Rautha has come a long way, Y/N.”

“Father-”

“How is the Dune, Feyd?”

“Spice production is higher than ever, thanks to the harvesters you delivered, Emperor.” It comes out in a rasp, mimicking the sound of his uncle’s voice without the depth.

Dune. You hated that fucking planet having spent an entire standard year there as punishment for something you can’t even remember. The moon the locals referred to as The Hand Of God prevented you from communicating with your sisters while there. Completely excommunicated, when the sun set, you were expected to dine with Vladimir and his kin and most nights you did.

On the rare occasion he wasn’t present, he left you alone with Feyd-Rautha. Neither of them kept it secret that they desired you to join the Harkonnen family permanently. Vladimir complimented your intelligence and strategic mind, while assuring you that your figure could carry and birth a healthy army of great nephews for him.

When your sentence was complete, you left with your skin hot and dry, without so much as a glance back. Upon your arrival, you nearly begged your father to never send you back. He gave you his word so long as you understood your place was behind him and his decisions, you were free from Arrakis.

To keep you from further embarrassing him and his legacy, he sent you on the sabbatical you had currently been on. Out of the way, out of sight, out of mind.

“Do you plan on staying on Arrakis or does your uncle’s business require you on Giedi Prime?”

“I will remain on Arrakis to ensure the production of Spice doesn’t stop. My brother has other responsibilities. My priority right now is to find the remaining members of House Atreides.” There’s a layer of humor in his tone. As if he isn’t standing before one of the most terrifying men in the universe. Perhaps he doesn’t believe he is.

Your head snaps to look at him. For being on a desert planet the majority of his life, he words are cold, lifeless. He would kill anyone his uncle told him to and not contemplate any differently. This man took on three of the best Harkonnen slave fighters in a gladiator game recently and left the arena without a scratch.

A marriage to Feyd-Rautha would mean a lifetime of breeding on a planet so hot it could kill you within two hours in the sand without a Stillsuit. The Harkonnen home planet is no better. Time passes slower, a standard year is almost three of that on Arrakis. It’s heavily industrialized, without oceans or forests. A heavy layer of fog covers the planet, blocking out the stars. If there are any visible nearby. Juxtaposed to the quiet sounds of shifting sand on Arrakis, their planet is loud and booming. No. That is not a life you can live.

“Be sure when you find the son, he is not injured. The other houses in the Empire are not pleased with the way they were handled. There has been chatter amongst them. We don’t want to give them more to talk about.”

An Emperor, no matter how powerful, is nothing without followers. Two Houses are nothing against the legions of the known universe.

“What will you do when you find him?” I ask, curious as to what his fate will be if he isn’t going to kill him.

“Prepare him for your wedding ceremony, of course.” This stuns me and at my stillness, Feyd-Rautha turns to face me. You don’t move, unable to comprehend the strategy of this game. “You are to be married to Paul Atreides. Imagine my surprise when we found out he was alive. I was further surprised when he asked for the hand of one of my daughters. A plea for peace and an alliance.”

“What about Irulan?”

“Irulan is the eldest. She is meant for a worthy match. You seemed to enjoy your time on Arrakis. Making allies with the local swine.”

You don’t speak, stunned for the third time in this discussion. How does he, and to what extend, does he know about your involvement with the Fremen? The help you offered was limited, they mostly refused your help, but you did what you could while there. And you were discrete, not even the Baron knew of your treachery.

Feyd narrows his eyes at you, assessing. He’s wondering why you over your sisters. The answer is simple. Your infertility makes you the perfect match for the bloodline that survived an assassination. The Atreides line will not continue if Paul weds you. Is Paul a vengeful man? What will he do to you when he finds out? Perhaps that’s the Emperor’s hope.

The hand of your father’s cruelty.

“You would give a beloved daughter to the son of the man you had murdered?”

“I like to think of it as ‘removed.’”

“It was an assassination. Who’s to say he won’t take revenge on you by killing me?” It’s the perfect solution to the problem you continue to be for him and is enough of a reason to declare war against House Atreides. He’d have the support of the whole universe.

You slump, shoulders no longer pulled back as your spine bends. The weight of your future is too heavy to hold. Your eyes drop to the floor, unable to keep them on your father, your executioner. Perhaps it’s safer with Feyd-Rautha and you can’t believe that’s the corner you've been backed into.

“That is why, dear daughter, you will kill him before he has the chance to.”

Feyd opens a pocket over his chest and pulls out a teardrop shaped vial with a blue liquid inside. It’s small in his palm as he holds it out to me. You stare at it, afraid that touching it will mean you am agreeing to this.

“This came from one of the herbalists. They found the plant deep underground on Arrakis. It’s a very old mixture that will put one into a deep sleep they won’t wake from. You are a humanitarian, so I have ensured it will be painless.” Feyd voice is kind, but you know it’s one of his manipulations. It was likely his uncle who decided on this poison.

“Is this a Bene Gesserit tincture?” You ask your father. His lips curl just slightly at the edges. You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t kill some-”

“Your interference before is why he is still alive. A loose thread and a threat to this family, to your sisters. Imagine the pain you have caused him, by allowing him to survive.” Your father’s voice from his seat is clear and firm. It is an order you can’t deny, regardless of my convictions.

“And what will I get for this act of loyalty for my Emperor?” I ask him, countering.

He is pleased, his talons curling over the arms of the chair. He pulls himself up and walks half way down the stairs to where we stand. Still keeping the high ground, but seemingly meeting you halfway.

“You get to be free. Free to continue your studies, on whatever planet you wish, and with whomever you wish, or alone.”

It’s too good to be true. He knows being left alone and away from the politics and his bidding is all you desire. You would relinquish your name, title, everything, just for peace. You weigh the options.

If you refuse, you are forced to marry the worst the universe has to offer, forced to stay within the Emperor’s reach as he murders anyone who stands in the way of him and House Atreides. If you agree, it is painless for Paul and only one casualty has to perish. The universe will think it was the Fremen who murdered him and you can live as a widow, tainted by the Atreides heir, alone wherever you choose.

Feyd-Rautha, for once, has read you correctly. You are a humanitarian and knowing you have taken the suffering of your sisters for them, knows you will also save as many people as you can.

You turn to Feyd, palms sweaty with anxiety, and take the vial.

The harsh, unforgiving sun eclipses Dune as the Emperor’s Flagship approaches the planet. You are seated in the haul, a Sardaukar guard on either side of you. Two is light protection, but since you are traveling to a planet with almost the entirety of the Harkonnen army, they are really operating as a formal escort.

Your repeated requests to say goodbye to your sisters were denied. The Emperor commanded you to take immediate leave for Arrakis. Feyd-Rautha nearly drug you from the chamber and to his ship, the rest of his posse stomping closely behind.

You hate to admit it, but for now, Feyd is your biggest protector during this transaction. He sits across from you, his face calm as he watches you like a predator, waiting for the moment to strike. His eyes drop to your chest, where the vial of poison hands around your neck beneath your shawl. It’s cold, the glass hasn’t warmed to the temperature of your skin. You don’t expect it will, either.

Once you arrive, Feyd will escort you to Arrakeen where you will surely dine with the Baron. The day after before dawn, Fed will escort you to meet Paul at a neutral place for the ceremony. Without the chance to say goodbye to your sisters, it’s difficult to imagine seeing them again. Being sent to this desert feels like an exile this time. After you complete the task given to you, you’ll be altered, different. Will your sisters even recognize you after this?

The ship enters the atmosphere and begins descending to the ground. Several Sardaukar ships accompanied by the Harkonnen fleet have landed before you, setting a safety perimeter for the flagship to land. The ship connects with the ground and settles, your guards standing before you. You stand as well, pausing in the middle of the haul as you wait for the door to open. Feyd-Rautha is next to you, preventing the Sardaukar guard from taking his position, invading your space.

“Don’t think I am as foolish as I pretend to be,” if he had eyebrows, they’d be furrowed in his glare.

“I don’t-” Your voice is cut off by his firm hand on your bicep, causing the Sardaukar to place their hands on their swords, though they don’t draw them.

“This arrangement to the Atreides bastard is an insult to my uncle and House Harkonnen. We have done your father’s bidding for generations.”

“Then contact my father for payment.“ Furious he thinks he has the right to place his hands on you, you cannot stop venom that drips in your words.

“You will not leave this planet without me as a husband. I have waited long enough.” He says it with so much confidence. Though unpredictable, he’s never been this aggressive. What makes him think that your guard, the tactical warriors more brutal than Harkonnen’s, won’t remove every one of his extremities if he touches you?

“It’s time you let me go,” you say, though he doesn’t release you. “In more ways than one, it seems.” Your eyes drag from his to the warrior beside you, who appears ready to attack, but is hesitating. If this were anyone else, their swords would have been drawn.

Feyd-Rautha glances at the guard behind you as he leans forward, a fraction closer, before finally dropping your arm. He is testing the boundary line, waiting to be stopped. He turns and leads you out. Before following behind, you glance behind you at your guards, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. It’s a warning to not hesitate again.

The dry and suffocating heat is immediately pressed upon you as you stop into the sun. Doing your best not to flinch at the wind cutting into your skin, you hold your chin level and keep your eyes on him. He is more impulsive than you recall, making him all the more dangerous. He’s approaching a Thropper, hundreds of Harkonnen surrounding the landing zone. They make a show of greeting you, an extension of the Emperor himself.

You call to him when he is halfway up the ramp. He stops and turns, only giving you half his physical attention. You come to a dead stop just before the ramp. Without dropping your smirk, your eyes drop to the step before meeting his. Elegantly, you pull your arm out from beneath your shawl, reaching for him. His eyes drop to your hand as he contemplates.

Though the wealthiest in the Empire, accumulating more wealth than even the Emperor, Harkonnens live in a primitive mindset. Women are not their equal nor worthy of their respect. They are warriors first, the ultimate toxic masculine. You are still a lady, however, and unable to resist knocking him down a peg in front of his warriors.

Still unsure how you will get yourself out of this without murder or marrying anyone, if Feyd-Rautha is right, and you are forced to marry him, you need his men to understand you are not a dog on leash. Their traditions don’t apply to you and you won’t be treated any differently than you currently are.

Finally, he agrees to play this game. Walking down the ramp, he steps off to the side. Once his feet are on the same ground as you, he returns the smirk and offers you his hand. You take it and step onto the ramp. His hand steadies you as you walk up before releasing you once you’re too high. Before your guard can follow, he’s on the ramp again, trailing closely behind you.

His sigh of displeasure is immediate as soon as you find your seat at the front behind the controls. He stands next to you, but you pay him no mind as you buckle yourself in.

“I insist-”

“As do I.” Not even glancing at him as you begin to flip on the overhead switches, starting the motor and engines. You take the aviation headset that rests on the steering handle and put it on. Your actions are enough to silence him, so he sits in the chair beside you, muttering something in Galach you can’t catch from beneath the headset.

The engine reverberates through the floor and sand swirls on either side of the glass when the propellers start. A guard behind you raises the ramp and when it closes, you lift off.

You didn’t think it was possible for this planet to become any more plain, but it has. Mounds of sand surround you in every direction. The spice on the top layer glimmering in the sun, reflecting it’s bright hue back to you. It’s hot even in the Thropper so you slide the shawl off of your shoulders. A fraction of your skin is on display around the thick straps of your dress.

A few hundred meters in front of you, a shimmering object catches your sight. Angling the Thropper toward it, you slow and see it’s a brand new spice harvester. The gears inside the machine tracks are free of rust and the steel casings aren’t discolored from the spice. Your father has spared no expense.

“These are bigger,” Feyd-Rautha’s voice comes through your headset. “We’ve been harvesting one and a half times more a month than ever before. Each comes with an entourage to keep the locals at bay.” His eyes are on you when you turn to look at him, but he’s focused on your shoulder. Fighting the eye roll, you turn back to the window and see two Throppers circling above the harvester, no doubt armed.

You don’t agree with the treatment of the Fremen or the aggression shown to them. This is their planet, their commodity. If anything, your father should be paying them to allow his presence here. It takes a hard people to live here, you can’t imagine ever adjusting to the effects of spice.

Even now, your heart rate speeds up and you attempt to slow your breath. The spice kicked up from the harvester is now filtering through into the Thropper, leaving you to blink hard to focus. Most experience mild hallucinations, but in the year you spent here, it just made you paranoid and unsteady. It heightened sensations and slowed your movements. How can the Harkonnen’s be so unaffected? You regain control over your mental state and continue on.

Landing at the capital, Arrakeen, your guards exit before you. Halfway down the ramp, Feyd-Rautha’s large, pale hand is extended for you to take. You accept, stepping off, and following him as he leads you towards your room. Once there, behind the closed door, you sit in the nearest chair and breathe deep, trying to steady yourself.

Read Part 2