#feyd rautha is my new muse

[lady-phasma]

Don't look away

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x F!Reader

Stand alone, cross posted on AO3, app 2,800 words

Warning: 18+, NSFW, others I should add but it's Feyd

Summary: Feyd lives rent free in my head now. I’m working on an unrelated piece with an ofc but I wanted to share a pwp because this man is essentially walking and talking sex. Enjoy. Please ignore typos. This was a rush job LoL

my gif

You hold your breath as Feyd-Rautha circles you, appraising. His head is tilted down and he looks at you from under his brows. Your chest is tight. He is almost exactly what you expected after watching him in the arena. Yet, not quite. He steps in front of you.

“She’s acceptable,” he says to the Reverend Mother without looking away from you. You begin to slowly exhale. His eyes slide down to your parted lips. He slowly licks his.

“Leave us,” he growls and the Reverend Mother, the younger Bene Gesserit sister, and his Harpies slip out of the room. You glance over your shoulder as the door slides closed behind them.

“No,” he whispers as he turns your head back toward him, guiding you with his hand on your chin. His blue eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth then back again. As he smiles, you see the tips of his blackened teeth for the first time and catch yourself staring.

“‘No’, my lord na-Baron?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He is standing close enough to hear you regardless. He nods once and drops his hand from your chin, grazing the backs of his fingers down your neck. He impertinently flicks the hood of your cloak off your head before dropping his hand to his side.

“You won’t look away from me. You will watch everything I do. No looking away, no closing your eyes.”

You swallow and attempt to nod but you feel like you cannot move. You want to move. You almost want to run for the door but you can imagine Feyd blocking your path with speed and stealth. You look at his mouth again, the lips curling, black teeth catching the light, and his tongue…

Feyd’s grip on your upper arm snaps your attention back. He undoes the clasp at your neck and slips the cloak off your shoulders, tossing it on the floor. You feel the goosebumps spread up your arms as the cool air of the room hits them. You are suddenly aware of the low neckline of your dress as you inhale. Your cleavage swells and you feel exposed, like prey out of cover.

He licks his lips, slowly. You fight conflicting urges to stare and to look away. You let your gaze travel up to his eyes. He isn’t looking at your face. He is stalking around you again, this time stoping behind you.

His hands are cool on your upper back and you shiver. Feyd makes a sound in response, a satisfied groan that is so low that you think you may have not heard it at all. His hands slip under your dress and are no longer gentle. He rips your dress down the back along the seam. He slings the shoulders of the dress down and you feel him step closer.

Feyd licks your neck, slowly, from the top of your shoulder to your ear. You bite the tip of your tongue to hold back a moan. You don’t want to like this, you don’t want to want him, but your nipples are hard and your body is a furnace.

“Let it out,” he growls in your ear, lips brushing against the lobe. “I want to hear you.”

You do. The sound comes out as a sigh and a moan. His reaction adds fuel to the fire in your core. Feyd growls next to your ear. His exhale tickles your cheek and you shiver again. Then you feel the fabric of his shirt press against your exposed back. Longing rolls over you as you realize you don’t want his shirt against your skin. You let the smallest groan escape your lips, a whining sound.

Feyd leans down and drags his lips over your shoulder. You almost relax into the feeling until you feel the pain as he bites down into the muscle. You gasp. It surprises you more than it hurts you. He releases his hold on you but his mouth stays against your skin.

Almost as unexpected as the bite, you feel the weight of his smooth head rest against your neck. He leans his weight in the crook of your neck and sighs. His hot breath makes you ache. His teeth are still grazing your shoulder. You want to relax into this feeling but he is too unpredictable.

Your mind races in an attempt to understand this man, to glean some insight. His sighs and groans make your core hot and tight. But the press of his teeth against your skin conflict with the gentleness of the press of his head against you. You can’t sort your thoughts and you can’t focus.

Suddenly, Feyd grunts and pushes away from you. Before you can decide to turn to look at him, he pulls your dress all the way off your arms and pushes it down your hips, leaving it in a puddle around your feet. You can’t think straight. You instinctively cross your arms over your breasts but it’s a fruitless action. He is behind you and you cannot cover the lower half of your body. You aren’t sure but you think the whimper you make is too quiet for him to hear.

“Stay,” Feyd growls. You do. You don’t move. You stare straight ahead at the wall opposite you and focus all your attention on listening, trying to decode the sounds Feyd is making behind you.

You hear cloth moving, one light thud, followed by another, then more cloth. Then you hear what is unmistakably bare feet on the stone floor. Then you feel him, not pressed against you (yet), but just behind you. He is still taller than you and though you cannot see him he feels like a monolith, looming and intimidating.

Feyd doesn’t speak as he runs his hands over your shoulders and down your biceps. He presses your arms against your sides and you acquiesce. Then his large hands cup your breasts as he steps forward into you, pressing the length of your bodies together. You feel lightheaded and sag slightly against him.

“Yes,” he hisses and somehow you can hear the smile in his voice. “Yes, my pet, that’s it.” His hands slide down the rises and hollows of your belly and hips. There is too much stimulus for you to focus on any one thing. The cool heat of his palms against your skin, the silkiness of his chest against your back, and the press of his erection against the curve of your buttocks.

This bliss is fleeting and you remind yourself of who he is, what you have seen him do. But the images of the arena can’t push the feeling of him on your skin out of your mind. You are almost powerless in his hands.

He guides you to turn and face him. You look up at him and involuntarily lick and bite your lower lip. For the first time you see hunger in his eyes. His head dips down and you fight the instinct to close your eyes as his lips press against yours. Not until you see his eyes close do you do the same. His mouth is bittersweet and gentle at first. Then his teeth nip and pull at your lip, his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he growls. You can’t stop yourself from pressing against his chest. Your hands find his arms as you try to get closer to him. As you pull him toward you the taste of blood crosses your tongue.

Feyd pulls his mouth back and you open your eyes immediately. The red on his lower lip is a stark line against the white skin. He slowly drags his finger across it. He gazes at the red on his fingertip as if he has never seen anything so entrancing before. Then he presses his finger against your lip and you pull the tip into your mouth. He moves before you can understand what is happening. His hand is in your hair, wrenching your head back. His other arm encircles your waste and he looks down at you, black teeth glinting in the pale light of the room.

His sneer is terrifying. Your fingernails dig into the flesh of his arms as you grip him. You don’t push him away; you can’t move. His eyes dart around your face searching for something. For defiance? He finds none and his mouth crashes against yours in a rough kiss that is mostly teeth and breath.

Something inside you gives way and you claw desperately at his arms. You kiss him back, finding his tongue with yours, inviting him into your mouth. His body is warm stone in your arms. You search for purchase, some place to anchor yourself, his chest, his arms, his neck. Then you push your hips forward, almost without thinking. His cock presses against your belly and he growls again. That sound draws wetness from between your legs and you moan back into his mouth. His hand begins to loosen its grip on your hair and you feel him smile against your lips. When you look at him you see it isn’t a kind smile.

“So that’s what you want, pet?” His smile is mocking, almost cruel. His voice is low and deep. His hand slides out of your hair to the side of your face. He caresses your cheek with his palm and rubs his thumb across your lips, lulling you with his touch.

“You want me to fuck you now?” Your response is the most undignified whimper. You are surprised by the desperation in the sound. As he straightens up to his full height you immediately miss the feeling of his skin. His smile softens briefly. Then he grips the back of your neck, hard, and walks you to the bed. Your heart pounds and you fear you won’t be able to keep your feet. If you trip you have no doubt he will drag you.

You look away from him, glance at the bed. He catches you and turns you to face him as you make the last few steps to the bed. It presses against the backs of your knees and you nearly fall. Feyd doesn’t let you. A brief flicker of understanding dawns on you: he doesn’t want anything to hurt you, only he can do that. It’s a perverse comfort, but his control is seductive. You don’t let yourself think “protective” but that’s the closest word. Then all words leave your mind as he lets go of you and you sink back into the bed.

Feyd kneels on the bed, spreading your legs with his knees. He isn’t gentle but his touch is soft. Every part of his hairless body is smooth and cool and graceful. His giant arms frame your field of vision as he props himself above you. His lower lip glistens and you want to risk defiance. You press yourself up to meet his mouth, to suck at that lip, bite and tease.

His reaction is quick. His hand presses you back onto the bed, wrapping almost entirely around your neck. You lick your lips and sneer up at him. His eyes flash with understanding. He grins. Using his hand on your neck and his legs to hold his weight he slips a hand between you and finds your slick center. He trails his fingers through your wetness and your last vestige of pride falls away. You actually whine as you raise your hips to find more of his fingers. He obliges for a moment and lets you press against them. Then he pulls his hand away.

The pressure on your neck is not yet uncomfortable. You let out panting breaths. Your mouth hangs open, eyes locked with his. Before you realize his hand is gone from your neck, you feel his wet fingers in your mouth and taste yourself. Without needing to be told you suck gently on them. You watch his face soften with pleasure. Barely opening his eyes, Feyd slides his fingers from your mouth, down your body, and under your thigh. He guides your leg onto his hip. As he leans his weight onto his other arm he guides his cock into your slick folds. You hold your breath. You don’t stop watching him and he notices. He looks at you, lewdly, as he strokes himself through your dripping cunt. You feel yourself blush, a bit too late for embarrassment, but there it is anyway. He groans as he presses the tip of his cock against your opening.

“Please, Feyd,” you groan. “Oh please.” His eyes widen at your words, at the sound of his name.

“Beg for my cock, pet. Tell me how much you need it,” he commands, his face only inches above yours.

“I need it so badly it hurts, na-Baron,” you watch for his reaction to the use of his title and you aren’t disappointed. “I need to feel you. Please.”

Feyd groans and his head dips lower, almost resting his forehead on yours as he begins to slide into you. The feeling is intense as he stretches you. You open your legs a bit wider, sliding your foot up the curve of his ass to his lower back. He presses deeper, harder, and you exhale his name. You don’t dare close your eyes yet but his are closed tight and his brow is furrowed. You gingerly slide your hands over his head and grip the back of his neck. You pull him to you slightly, giving him permission to rest his head against your neck. He rubs his head against you like a cat and you smile to yourself as you close your eyes.

Feyd’s hips press into yours, spreading you wide as he buries his face against you. He pulls out slowly and slides back in, so you can feel every inch of him. His free hand searches up your side to your breast and squeezes. His thumb grazes your nipple as he starts to pump into you. You gasp as he pinches your nipple, twists it slightly. You moan and press your lips against the smooth skin of his head.

“You take me so well,” Feyd mutters into your chest. “Such a good girl taking all of me.” The gravel in his voice makes you shiver and mewl. On his next stroke in, you slip your other leg over his hip and circle your legs around his waist. You pull him into you, as far as you can take him, the head of his cock pressing against your deepest core. He makes the most satisfied sound imaginable. You feel his lips, then his teeth against your collarbone. Your grip on his neck tightens as he slides out of you and rams back in, hard and quick.

With the next stroke, Feyd raises his head to look at you. You let your hands slide to his shoulders, still holding tight. There is no softness on his face now. His lust-blown pupils have swallowed the blue of his eyes and his brow is furrowed as he focuses on fucking you. He squeezes your breast quickly then moves his hand to your hair. He holds your head still and leans down to kiss you when he thrusts. You dig your fingernails into his skin and groan.

His control starts to falter and he exhales into your mouth. His hand in your hair gripping tighter as his strokes shorten and his pace quickens. You slide your hand down from his shoulder to touch yourself. His facial expression changes momentarily as he feels you grip tighter around his cock. You grin up at him.

“I need it, Feyd,” you whisper, holding his eye contact. You wait a beat and arch your back as your fingers and his cock bring you closer to your climax. “I need to feel you cum.” You groan. The wave of your pleasure begins to crest, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Then you feel his teeth clamp down on the flesh above your clavicle. Your orgasm overtakes you as the sharp sensation clashes with the low, throbbing pleasure between your legs. You murmur his name through clenched teeth.

Feyd pushes through your spasms around his cock. Growling and grunting but not releasing you from his bite. He fucks you through your orgasm. His rhythm stutters and his grip loosens. He lifts his head, a string of spit pulled from his bottom lip. He grabs your head with both his hands and, panting just above your mouth, he cums. The heat fills you and you moan his name again. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours as he presses into you one last time.

Then he stills, his forearms holding him up, but lets some of his weight press you together so he is almost lying on top of you, not pulling out yet. He exhales deeply and raises his head. He looks down at you.

You can’t catch your breath and your legs are heavy. You let them slide down his hips. Your neck throbs where his teeth marked you. You want to wrap your arms around him, pull him into you, stroking and soothing this wild animal. Instead, you grab the back of his head and pull him down to your mouth and kiss him until you taste red.

[lady-phasma]

yup, this is exactly what started my hyperfixation. wow

AUSTIN BUTLER The Art and Soul of Dune: Part Two

[feirceangel]

Asks are open you say? Well how about a dynamic flip? Feyd is the proud warrior but is unexpectedly bartered away in a deal his brother makes to humiliate him. Surprised and furious he fully intends to conquer his new "brides" family and kingdom only for them to recognize his strength and be met with the satisfying challenge of warrior/ farming planet.

So, I kinda went in a different direction with this, but I hope you still enjoy it, Anon!!

Imagine | A Match (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd is given in marriage to a wealthy House in order to gain an alliance. His new bride is not what he expected.

Word Count: 1,737

Warnings: arranged marriage, attempted choking/stabbing, non-sexual nudity (reader), Powerful! Reader.

"What?" Feyd's voice is barely concealing his rage as he stares down his uncle and smug brother.

"It was necessary, my darling," the Baron's voice is rough, his tone placating. "We need this alliance more than you know."

Feyd finds his teeth clenching, hands forming fists at his sides. "Why not Rabban?"

"You know why," the Baron glares. "They would not accept Rabban as a suitable match. You are to go and wed their daughter. And in return they give us whatever we ask."

Feyd growls, "I outta slit your throat, uncle."

The Baron laughs, "This is for your benefit as much as it is mine, dear nephew. Now go."

Feyd storms out of the room, a hurricane of rage sweeping through the halls. He has never felt an anger this severe in quite some time. He should have known something like this would happen eventually. And, knowing his uncle, there is another scheme at play.

Always plans within plans within plans.

It's not the worst situation, he muses later when he has calmed and steadied his mind.

House Wallach would be a formidable ally, an asset that shouldn't be taken lightly. With control over three planets and being the largest horticultural power in the Landsraad, they are powerful indeed.

The leaders of House Wallach has birthed only a daughter, which leaves them without a male heir. All manner of eligible men have tried their hand at a marriage to their daughter. None has been successful.

Until now, apparently.

A feral grin spreads across Feyd's face as he thinks of the possibilities.

He will have no issue wedding the daughter and taking control of House Wallach when the time is right.

And, perhaps if he plays his cards right, take control of House Harkonnen as well.

He cares not who he has to marry, even if he'll be mad about it for awhile. After all, he can dispose of her eventually.

~~~

Feyd arrives with much fanfare, as befitting the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Bright sunshine surrounds those gathered to greet him, people who are swamped in bright greens, yellows, and browns. All around the envoy are orchards of all kinds of fruit trees. A vibrant sea of green.

So much more colour than Feyd is used to.

His expression remains neutral as he greats the Lord and Lady of the House. They appear cautious of him, perhaps overly so. It seems they know House Harkonnen’s reputation.

"It is an honour to be here," he says, bowing slightly. The lie slides easily off his tongue.

"We are pleased to have you in our home, na-Baron." The Lord says, returning the bow. "Our daughter is so pleased that you accepted the match."

Feyd's lips quirk up. Surely he's lying, no noble lady would hold any desire for a creature like him.

"As I said, it's an honour."

His gaze sweeps around, searching for his wife-to-be. All he finds is diplomats and soldiers.

"Where is Lady Wallach?" He asks, unimpressed at her absence.

"Forgive us, your arrival coincided with an event she could not miss," the Lord replies. "She is attending a Munus Ceremony."

This catches Feyd's attention, "A fight?"

"Yes, if you come this way, we may still witness part of it."

Feyd follows Lord Wallach, silently fuming.

His betrothed is watching other men fight to the death instead of welcoming him? His outrage is unparalleled, yet he remains collected.

They lead him up to the viewing tower of an outdoor coliseum, with vines growing on every available surface.

The viewing box is empty.

"There my lord."

Feyd's attention is brought down to a figure in the ring who brandishes a dagger with a graceful air.

"Our daughter,” Lord Wallach smiles, the action appearing forced.

He hadn't expected this.

Feyd was picturing a regal noble lady, demure and pitiful. He had not once pictured this creature before him, fluid in her movements as she battles her opponent.

She blocks attacks with ease and avoids ones that would cause serious damage all while attacking just as fiercely. Her opponent is skilled, to be sure, but is no match for the ruthlessness of her attacks.

He falls to the ground, unmoving. Feyd’s bride-to-be lifts her arms in victory, grinning as blood drips down her blade.

“We honour!” She shouts, and the crowd responds with deafening cheers.

“We know she is not exactly… How can I put it? Traditional, let’s say.” Her mother frets, “But she will be a good wife, na-Baron.”

He barely hears her, eyes transfixed on the beauty in the arena as she battles another opponent. Yes, this is an interesting turn of events indeed.

“Of course she will,” Feyd replies. “I must meet her.”

He watches as she disappears into the building, no doubt going to change and bathe after her match.

“Certainly. She’ll be out to give you a tour in no time. Meanwhile, a guard can show you to your room.”

Displeased, Feyd nods and obediently follows the man to his room. As soon as he’s alone, Feyd opens the door and stalks out with determination.

He cannot wait.

There is surprisingly little security surrounding your change room, Feyd notes as he quietly opens the door.

Your piercing gaze meets him immediately. Instead of being frightened, like he had anticipated, you smile warmly.

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, I was not expecting you here. I’m afraid you have caught me unprepared to greet you properly,” you say calmly as you continue to unbutton your fighting tunic.

He doesn’t know what to make of your reaction. You’re not put off by his presence at all.

“I couldn’t wait,” he replies honestly.

You hum, “Excited to see me, na-Baron?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

The sound of your laughter is unexpected, “Of course not. I doubt I was what you were anticipating.”

His gaze lingers as you remove your clothes and retrieve a washcloth and bucket.

“Don’t you have servants?” He finds himself asking, motioning to the washcloth.

“I prefer to do it myself.”

He frowns, “You don’t seem very noble.”

“I assure you, Wallach blood flows deep in my veins,” your voice has taken an edge.

It seems he’s struck a nerve.

“I meant no insult, my lady,” his grin says otherwise, his voice rough and teasing. “It just appears you have odd taste. Fighting and doing the work servants should be doing.”

You return his even gaze, “I am not some snivelling noble who cannot take care of herself. Feyd, it seems you do not remember me.”

Your last statement has him pausing.

“What did you say?”

Lathering suds onto your bloodied skin, you barely spare him a glance.

“I said you don’t remember me. We met once, you know.”

He does not remember such a thing.

“Don’t toy with me,” he snarls. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you roll your eyes. “Feydie, I can’t say I’m not hurt you don’t recall.”

Your bastardization of his name brings a memory to the front of his mind.

A young girl bearing the Wallach crest getting angry with him over something and punching him clear across the face. He naturally returned the blow and they broke out into a fight right then and there.

He’s shocked he forgot it.

You watch as recognition filters through his eyes. Smiling, you rinse the suds off your body.

“Now you remember. To be honest, I don’t know why I was so angry with you.”

“You’ve always been a fighter,” he acknowledges with an inclination of his head.

“And I knew you could not be satisfied with a weak wife.”

He’s coming to realize this match may not have been a scheme of just his uncle.

“You wanted this match,” he phrases it as a statement as if he already knows the answer.

You smirk, “Does it not please you?”

“What makes you think I would want you as a wife?” He sneers, crossing his arms.

“I know you planned on controlling me, or killing me - whichever suited your needs best. You want power, Feyd. I can give you that and so much more. Is it too much to ask for you in return?”

He cannot find words, mulling over your proposal as his eyes study your every move.

You’ve certainly grown from that little girl who could barely throw a proper punch yet had the rage to carry through a fight.

Feyd observes as you dry yourself off. He leans over before you can, and grabs your fresh shirt from the table.

“Allow me, my lady.”

Surprised, you nod and present your back to him. A foolish mistake, to turn your back on a potential threat. He contemplates disposing of you right now, but finds himself frowning at the idea.

You’re so much more interesting than he first imagined.

Despite himself, he wants to know you better, to find out when you had your first gladiatorial fight or when you realized you could be so much more than wedding fodder for your parents to make a match with.

“So many suitors have tried to win your hand,” Feyd rasps as he guides your arms through the sleeves of your shirt. “Yet you denied them all.”

“None were you, my lord.”

“Why chose me?” He leans into you, pressing his chest to your back as he slowly starts buttoning your shirt.

You lean back into him, “You are a fighter, a warrior. You can wield blades and talk politics. And I know you can treat me right.”

“Why would I treat you any different than a common whore?” He suddenly presses his arm against your throat, cutting off your oxygen.

He looks at your expression, surprised to find a wide grin. A flash of pain goes through his side. Your eyes flicker downwards and Feyd looks down to find the tip of a blade piercing his skin.

He releases his hold.

“You will treat me differently, Feyd. And do you know why?”

You turn to face him, placing your hand on his bleeding wound.

“Because I will make you.”

Feyd cannot stop the smile forming on his plush lips as you bring your hand to his cheek.

He doesn’t say anything as you continue place a kiss to his lips before shoving him away.

“We must ready ourselves for the dinner tonight, there is much to discuss about the wedding.”

“Of course, my lady.”

[Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!]

[storiesfromafan]

Little Bird - Part One

A/N: I am finally diving into writing a story for Feyd. Forgive me if he is ooc, but I am trying haha. This idea came when rewatching Dune Part Two almost a week ago. And i haven't been able to stop thinking about it, only to work on Benny one-shots.

Also, things may/have been changed to suit the Story, and will possibly keep changing to fit it as a whole.

This will probably be a slow written/updated story, as I want to make sure it's as good as it can be.

Do let me know what you think 😊

Part One

Rabban strode heavily and with confidence into the war room, his uncle – Baron Vladimir Harkonnen – grotesquely sitting at the head of the table. The Baron looked to his nephew with a scathing look, making Rabban's step faulted for a second, yet he continued on as if nothing happened.

“Well?” Boomed the Baron's impatient voice.

Coming to stand before his uncle, Rabban looked to the man with a proud and confident demeanour. “Yes Uncle. We have successfully obtained Arrakis, and wiped out the Atreides".

The gluttonous man smiled wickedly at his nephew, his plans coming along nicely. “Good. You have done well Rabban".

In the moment Rabban felt light, the weight of delivering what was expected of him lifted. Something that seemed rare, hardly happening for him. Today he had finally showed his worth, and his Uncle had shown him he was favoured. For the Baron had given him the place he conquered. Commanding he go to Arrakis, take the spice and make the Harkonnen name mean something of greater greatness.

A dark chuckle came from the shadows off to the side of both men. Both cast their gaze to the figure that slowly stepped out, their skin pale and head bald, like the other men. But the main feature separating the three was the new comers stormy blue eyes, which shone with mischief and mayhem. His full lips housing a knowing smirk. He was the Baron’s other nephew, Feyd-Rautha.

“Brother, do tell our Uncle about the souvenir you brought back from your invasion of Arrakis" came Feyd's raspy, yet amused voice.

Rabban's jaw clenched at his brothers words, have beating him to the punch. For he had hoped to inform the Baron of his prize himself. Part of him knew that the Baron would be angry for taking what he did. Yet he could not help himself. The perfect opportunity arose and Rabban couldn’t resist taking something for himself. Even if he didn’t truly want it. It was to show his strength and power.

“What is he on about?” Demanded the Baron, eyes drawing together in agitation.

The older nephew sputtered, trying to find the words while being put on the spot. Feyd held his arms behind his back as he leisurely strolled to stand beside his Uncle. His intense gaze on Rabban. With both sets of eyes on him, Rabban was uneasy, yet did his best to not show it.

“Well!” The Baron yelled, now becoming impatient with the man before him.

Once more Rabban could not speak, only angering the Baron more. Feyd smiling joyously at his brothers lack of response, how both he and the Baron seem to effect him.

“Uncle, since Rabban is tongue tied, I will inform you" came Feyd's raspy voice. “It would seem my brother has taken the prize of Atreides niece, the one who’s mother ran away and disgraced her family".

The Baron listened to Feyd's words, staying silent. Which he took as a sign to go on.

“I will say one thing in my brothers defence" Feyd mused, walking towards Rabban. “This prize is known to be good friends of the Princess. So, having her in our hands is favourable. And if we were to join her to our house, we may gain more favour with the Princess. And ultimately her father, the Emperor”. Feyd stood by Rabban and turned to look to the Baron.

Silence fell for a few minutes. Feyd watching the gluttonous man before him. Rabban not looking to his Uncle, and uneasy by the complimentary words of his brother. And the Baron, the wheels in his head turning. But then he smirked, a deep chuckle coming from the man both nephews despised.

“We already have an in with the Emperor. For he supplied us with his own men" the Baron looked to each of his nephews, who stared at the man before them intently. “Having the princesses favour because I allowed Atreides niece to join our house, is not necessary. In fact, it would low us!”

Locked in a windowless, bland room – walls a sterile grey, basic grey and black furniture. It was some sort of holding cell, a fancier one for those who had come from wealthy and influential families. Yet the Harkonnen’s seized, contemplating if they would execute them or not. That was were you were currently waiting, and for over twenty-four hours.

You had been dragged here, after being taken from Arrakis during the take over. You recall being asleep in your room, before hearing noises from the halls. When you left your room you found the chaos. Soldiers moving about, killing all insight. Unlucky for you Rabban Harkonnen had been coming down your hall. His eyes landed on you, recognition flashing in his eyes. And that was it. Before you could run he had his large hand on your arm, dragging you away while death and destruction passed you.

Even now you were still dressed in your night dress, which had dirt and some blood on it. Your hair was a tangled mess from those that would take hold of it and drag you about, Rabban included. Your lip was also split from being backhanded when you finally spoke up. Thankfully it had clotted over, but it was still quiet sore. You were on alert, but frightened. And who wouldn’t be? Yet you thrived, navigating it while feeling everything you did.

You had to be strong from a young age. Due to your mothers choice to pick love over duty, resulting in you, you were the one to suffer for her indiscretion. All the great families looked down their nose at you from the age of seven, when your mother had gotten her foot in the door, your father’s family rising and gaining a small bit of power. It wasn’t much but it allowed you all to be seen in social circles. But many whispered, speaking ill of you all.

Great families told their children to not speak to you, leaving you out in the beginning. When you were nine did the Princess Irulan for-go what people and children said. She was kind to you, befriending you. A true friend. And for once you felt as if you didn’t have to fight to be seen. Over time your friendship influenced those around the Princess, and in turn those children were kind to you under the Princesses gaze. But as soon as she turned her back, or left, they turned their backs to you.

Your ears faintly picked up shuffling in the hallway outside your room. Followed by voices, which sounded to be in a heated exchange. Wearily you stood from the chair you’d been sitting in, refusing to sleep till you knew what was to become of you. Taking a couple steps toward the rooms door, you strained to hear what was transpiring behind your closed door.

“How could you!” A gruff, angry voice said. “She was to be mine!”

Then there was a deep chuckle. “An why would you want her? Don’t you have enough whores to keep yourself entertained?”

“I was the one to take Arrakis and wiped out the Atreides! She is my prize!” A loud bang rang out down the hall, a fist had hit a wall.

“She was taken from you because you hid her from our Uncle”.

“Which I was going to inform him of! Until you told him!”

Their voices lowered, and their words faster. You didn’t hear anything after that. With a final loud aggravated groan, followed by heavy feet stomping away from your room. Then silence. Yet you could not relax just yet, for the other person was still out there. You knew it.

When the door suddenly open did you jump. But the doorway was empty, staring out the door frame  you questioned what was going on. Then he entered the space of the door. You took a step back. Slowly, as if stalking pray, he entered the room. The door closing shut behind him. Like all that you had seen he was pale and bald, but also tall and lean. As he entered into the light of the room his face coming into full view. First you noticed his full lips, that were set in a straight line. His strong jaw and sharp cheek bones. Last it was his blue eyes, their bright blue contrast to the dark look he was giving you.

With every step closer to you, did you step back. Until you were stopped by the chair you had been sitting in. Recovering from being trapped while the man came to stand before you. You stood tall, holding your head up high. Your gaze fierce as it meets his bright blue eyes. What surprised you was the amusement shining in his eyes now. You were amusing to him.

You looked at him, really looked at him. For a Harkonnen, this man had some unearthly beauty. Yet something told you you’ve met before, though you couldn’t believe it. But those eyes, bright blue, different yet familiar. Either in this life, or a past one.

“W-who are you?” You finally asked, wanting the silence to end.

He remained silent, just watching you a little longer, before he took a step back, giving you breathing room. His hands moving to rest behind his back, as a fear enduring smile crossed his full lips, which did not reach his eyes.

“I am Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen” came his raspy, deep voice.

A chill ran down your spine, both from who he was and his voice. You had heard many stories of the man before you, stories that chill to the bone and leave no room for humanity in him. And you stood before him. But why?

“W-why are you here?” You questioned, knowing you were pushing it. And Feyd was allowing it.

“I am here to inspect what is now mine" he coolly replied, as if it was common knowledge.

You looked at him with confusion. How did you end up his, if his brother was the one to take you from Arrakis? “What about your brother?”

Feyd chuckled softly. “My brother did not inform the Baron of taking you. And as punishment you were given to me, little bird".

You remained quiet, letting his words sink in. You had been worried about being Rabban's prize. But now Feyd owning you, that was terrifying. He would either spend his time torturing you, your flesh, before killing you. Or he would make you his whore, your body servicing him in every carnal way. Neither were options you looked forward too. Though maybe the death route would be the best of the two, for it would end the soonest.

“Come now" Feyd's words broke you from your thoughts. “Surely you wish to ask more questions little bird?”

He’d already given you a nickname, one you found annoying. “S-stop with that nickname".

“Why?” He asked in amusement. “I think it suits you. Taken from the wild, only to be locked up" – he reach out to take a lock of hair in his fingers, which you pulled away from – “untamed but with time can be...”

Your gaze darkened, as you managed to move from the chair and putting more distance between the two of you. His words had truth to them, but you would not be tamed. Not by him, and not by his methods.

“You are strong" Feyd said suddenly, his face dropping so it was serious. “I remember you at the palace when we were younger. How the children from the great families looked down at you, spat insults at you. It made you strong...”

Was that a compliment? “So what?” You spat.

He chuckled once more. “I was making an observation little bird. As not once had you cried or cowered when you were taken. Nor when in this room, or in my presence. You stand tall, and do your best to remain calm. I will give you that".

You glared at him. Not for what he said, but the nickname and how sure of himself he was. You were here because of his brother, not by choice. You were here, in your nightdress and looking a fright, because of them. They didn’t even have the decency to let you freshen up.

Feyd took no time to move before you again, his hand taking a hold of your chin. Lifting your head so he could look down into your eyes. Your glare deepened at his actions, which only pleased him more. Feyd then moved his thumb to your bottom lip, the rough pad running along it. The pressure he used collided with the split in your lip, causing it to open and you to hiss. Music to Feyd's ears. Running his thumb over the blood, he moved it over your lip, back and forth till it was completely covered.

Pulling his hand back, Feyd moved the blood covered thumb to his mouth. His tongue licking the pad, collecting your blood. The metallic taste delightful. “You will be moved to a better room. I will send some women to help clean you up, before you get some needed rest. By tomorrow I should have worked it out...”

“W-worked what out?” You asked curiously. A sinking feeling in your stomach.

A twisted smile crossed Feyd's face, chilling you to the bone. “If I will kill you or make you my whore".

With those words he turned from you, and walked to the door. Once it opened, he moved from the room and once more the doors closed, leaving you alone. Leaving you wonder what just happened. You moved to the chair and sat, your mind running over all that transpired with Fayd. Then finally you understood, tomorrow would either be the day you die or the day you loose yourself.

You don’t know how long you sat there, but when the doors opened and two guards walked into the room, you knew it was time to go. Reluctantly you lifted yourself from the chair, and crossed the room to them. One guard exited first, with you following before the second guard brought up the rear. It felt like you were being marched like a criminal, but it was far from it. For as you arrived to your new room, the halls to get there were nicer but still bland. The room was larger, a couch and big bed. The walls were still grey but with this room there was a window. You could see the night of Giedi Prime.

Two bodies walking from an adjoining room caught your attention, and upon turning you were greeted to the sight of two Harkonnen women, slaves, waiting with their hands held before them and eyes down. They were pale and bald, yet thin and were quite beautiful.

“My lady" they greeted softly, scared to be loud.

“If you follow us, we have a bath being drawn for you" one of them advised.

You didn’t say a word, but cautiously crossed the room to them. They stepped aside and allowed you to enter first. The bathroom had the same grey walls and grey, and black furniture, but with a large sunken tub in the middle of the room. Another woman was filling the tub, pouring in oils and scents. It didn’t take long for it to be full, and she left her spot. She walked over to you, bowed and then left. The other two women came in, and moved to undress you. You didn’t fight them when they removed your nightdress and undergarments.

You walked into the tub, the warm water feeling good as you slowly submerged your body in it. Your muscles loved the warm water, it helping with the tension you were holding. The floral scent pleasing to your nose. One of the woman came up and asked to help with your hair, which you accepted. So there you were, relaxing in a tub of water while the slave washed your hair and detangled it. It felt so good you almost forgot where you were, and what had happened to Arrakis and your family.

“Leave me" you commanded when your hair had been seen to.

Both women bowed before scurrying out of the room, door closing behind them. There you floated, eyes cast to the dark, sterile ceiling. In this moment of relaxation did you recall your family. Your Uncle, Duke Leto Atreides. His concubine Jessica. Your Cousin Paul. And all those innocent people serving the family that had fallen at the Harkonnen hands.

For the first time in years did tears rise in your eyes, and made their escape down your cheeks. The situation you were in was not easy. Many would have crumbled as soon as seeing the soldiers, or when they were on the ship to this toxic planet. You crumbled in a tub full of pleasant smelling water, realisation of possible outcomes of fate flashing before your eyes. Tomorrow would come too quick, you just knew it.

TBC...

Next Part: Part Two

[yandere-wishes]

Yandere! Paul atreides x princess! Reader claiming us.... But literally claiming... Like... Kidnapping....

I'm going crazy.

☆★☆★☆★☆

Thinking about Emperor Paul Atreides sitting all high and mighty atop his galactic throne. With big scary Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen hovering behind him ready to kill on command. Now imagine poor little darling tide up at the foot of the throne. Captured and dethroned, a pretty prize for the two men who killed her father. Her chin ensnared between Paul's cruel fingers, forced to gaze upon her monstrous captures. Your crown lays shattered on the blood-red carpet, your dress ripped and ruined.

Funny how "princess" is just a word now, just a flurry of salt to marinate an open wound.

"Well princess, do you pledge allegiance to your new king?" Paul's words are all for show, he's being playful, trying to lighten a dull mood.

Loyalty or death.

You notice the knife twirling between Feyd's fingers. Gleaming in the fractured light. You gulp, your body quivering from the pressure, your knees dig into the hard floor, shoulders straining from your hands being tied behind your back.

"Y-yes Pau- my king," You notice the dark glint in his faux blue eyes. He releases your chin sharply, leaving a stinging pain in its wake. His ring hovers next to your lips, awaiting the sealing kiss. Your fate flutters between your teeth, round and thick like a transmute pearl. You kiss his ring, letting your lips feel the creases of the bird's wings.

You hear Feyd chuckle from above you, relishing your crestfallen state.

Harknonen beaste.

"My queen" Paul muses, his voice too gleeful for the setting. "My precious little queen, forever by our side."

Oh, who would ever want to be queen?

He owns you

They own you

Forever trapped

[lady-phasma]

If y'all know me at all you know I'm gonna do this with my new psycho...

gif by me

he has the range

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

And all the pieces fall, right into place // Part One

So Feyd Rautha is still on my mind and that’s my second try of writing about him and an Artreides!Reader.

This will get smutty later on, but not in this chapter.

Summary: As the Princess of House Atreides, you don’t shy away from what ever must be done for your family. Your impending union with a Harkonnen, though anticipated, doesn't unsettle you. However, the events take an unforeseen twist, placing your fate on a precarious edge. This sudden shift brings about consequences far beyond what you could have ever envisioned.

English is not my first language.

All feedback is welcome <3

Part two // Part Three

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

There are so many songs that make me think of our favorite psychotic Harkonnen, but I stick with „Found“ by ††† (Crosses) for now.

_____________

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FxM

1.349 words

___________________

The dim light wandered through the corridor, veiling most of the space into a velvety dark. The earthy brown and green tapestry on the wall illumined ever so slightly by the flowing arms along the wall. But even if there would be no light, you know the way by heart, having followed it more times than you can remember. Your feet shuffled along the floor, finally stopping at a closed door almost hidden at the end of the passage. Before your knuckles can touch the polished wood, a slight gap appears.

„You are late“ Paul says, and pulls you in, closing the door behind you at once.

„Well, you can take it up with our Father. I love him with all my heart, but with him being in the library for so long there was no chance of getting past him earlier“ 

„He seems to spend an awful amount of time there nowadays“ Paul muses and lets himself fall on a cushion on the floor. 

„That’s true. I believe he hides from Mother.“

Both of you cannot suppress a laugh. Since Lady Jessica is with child she seems quite easily irritated with everyone, especially with the Duke. 

„Well, at least she will have a new baby to take care of when we are gone“ 

„Let's drink to that“ Paul says, and produces a bottle of wine and two glasses from a cupboard. 

The liquid is the perfect ruby color, reflecting the light on the walls. It feels like all of your home planet has been distilled into the glass in your hand: the sweetness of the sunshine rays, the vibrancy of the hills covered in forests, the deepness of mountain lakes you wandered with Paul & Duncan, the acidity of the soreness after training with Gurney and the light twinge of bitterness of the goodbyes Paul and you were to say so soon. 

„We have about a fortnight still“ he says, as if reading your mind. 

„How about you stay out of my thoughts, “ you reply, but there is no sharpness to it. He is right, your future is about to unfold, but now you are here still, far away from the harsh and unforgiving Giedi Prime where the man you were promised to awaits.

„I really should go there and tell them off“ Your father sighs, his eyes still resting on the book he has had for half an hour without reading a single word. 

„And what good would it do? Let them, they will need the memories to sustain them through what’s to come“ Lady Jessica says with a benevolent smile. 

Her hand rests on her belly, instantly protective of the new life. But she feels the same unease as the Duke, with hints of trouble in the air being almost tangible to her. 

_______

You regret the last cup when you wake up the next morning. Your mouth feels dry and ashy, your head throbbing. Your handmaidens say nothing, but a vial with medicine is placed wordlessly on your nightstand. You gulp it down and rush to the private dining room, where your mother and Paul are already there. 

A servant plates some bread on your plate but is dismissed by Lady Jessica with a stern look. 

„No, please. Not now“ you whine „ We practised for so much already“ 

Lady Jessicas looks at you sternly „And yet there is a need for more“.

Your eyes wander to your brother 

„Don’t look at me for help. I had earned my breakfast already“

With a sigh, you sit upright and focus on your mother

„Give me the plate“

Like in a trance, her hands move as she grabs the plate from the servants' hands and puts it next to you. 

„Good, now what else do you want?“ 

_______

Days pass by in training, between the library and the combat space, with afternoons free for you and Paul to do as you please. To sit at the cliff just outside your ancestral fortress, with seagulls rushing over your head, while you look at the waves crashing at the shore is something you cannot believe to be able to leave without. The hours spent in comfortable silence are so precious to you that you almost can’t find back the tears prickling in your eyes. A servant comes running to you one of those afternoons, visibly distressed. 

„My Lord, my Lady“ he finally gets out between snapping for air „You are requested at the guest hall at once. Please come“ Paul and you get up, exchanging a glance. In the hall, the fireplace is lit and everything is a buzz with servants carrying silver plates, candles and chairs. Your father stands next to the fire, his hands clasped behind his back with the message scroll he holds so tightly his knuckles are almost white. He turns around, and his expression is carefully neutral.

„There has been news for you today, my children. Paul, you are to leave for Arraki with me in a week. We will meet the Fremen delegation there and your wedding is to take place in Arrakeen. You, my daughter, however, will be gathered by Baron Vladimir Harkonnen and Na Baron Feyd Rautha here. Baron Vladimir and his nephews will arrive the day after tomorrow. They will take you to Giedi Prime after the wedding“ 

Paul seems as confused as you are. You were to travel as a family to Giedi Prime so that your wedding could commence after Na Baron's Birthday celebrations. But now he and his family make the effort and spice to travel to your home. This news leaves you puzzled and unsettled. „Now go to Lady Jessica at once“ he says and with a bow of your head, you rush to her chambers. 

Lady Jessica seems calm, compared to you. But she has years of Bene Desserts training that you are yet to acquire. She holds out her hands to both of you. „Something is not right“ she admits, „but there is nothing to gain in worrying now. We have too much to do“ 

And with this, your packing begins.

_____

Metal plate touches the ground with a soft thud, revealing a row of Harkonnens soldiers, all in their full combat gear, looking out of place in the middle of the green field their vessel landed on. „Quite a show“ Paul signs to you and gets a „Behave now“ as a reaction from your mother. 

They march in unison and behind them a grotesque floating figure is revealed, followed by multiple tubes, connected to dark glass orbs. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen floats, with his drape touching the ground and collecting the morning dew on the edges of it. His face is soft and plump but also full of hardness, small eyes beading at you with a hostility you cannot understand. Glossu Rabban, a mountain of muscle, follows slightly behind him, glancing between your family and the surroundings. Light breeze reaches you, carrying the smell of the sea foam and shells and raising the banners of your House behind you even higher. You lift your chin a bit, trying to mirror it and your gaze falls on the man next to Glossu. His skin is so fair that it looks like snow on a mountaintop, unblemished and almost sparkling. His uniform is tight, with black leather at his shoulders, knees and boots, which only makes his skin more striking. You are aware of his reputation, so his calm pace doesn’t fool you. Behind this facade of tranquillity is a person who is rumored to be the most ruthless soldier in the known universe. His eyes seem to look straight at your parents when suddenly his head turns to you and his dark blue eyes meet yours. For a split second, the corner of your mouth twitches nervously and he catches that, causing a hint of a smile on his face. He doesn’t look away as if to test you, so you try to withhold his gaze with the same amount of pride. His lips form a proper smile now, with the promise of a story yet to begin.

________

to be continued ...

[scaly-freaks]

Literally every single headcanon idea for Feyd and the new oc, chose any you like I wanna know all of them

HMMM okay omg there were so many questions this is about to feel like HOMEWORK!!! Let me lay the ones I like out. I kinda weave my own canon in to fill out blanks from the OG canon material btw.

(i've decided to name her Eshal, it means 'flower of paradise' in Arabic and is only fitting considering the influences in Dune)

How did your muses meet?

Feyd-Rautha killed her father and dragged her by the hair back to his spaceship. Mhm. I wish I could make it more romantic. But I cannot. Eshal was on the verge of going through the spice agony when the Harkonnens arrived, and for some reason that is inexplicable to both her and her fellow sayyadina, she couldn't use the Voice even though she had the ability before. She hasn't been able to use it since she was brought onto Giedi Prime (though I guess shrieking with grief and rage as Feyd dragged her to the ship counts as a very hearty attempt).

2. How long have your muses known each other?

About two months since he took her.

3. What was the last gift your muses got for each other?

Well, you see, Feyd got her a music box. It had her mother's teeth in it. She does appreciate it, though she'd never tell him, and she definitely knows he didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart. He just wanted to break her spirit, but instead, it's the one thing keeping her from suicide because she focuses on the question: who will protect my mother's teeth if I'm gone? (Her father did it before her - she has no siblings)

4. Do your muses have a 'place' that's just for the two of them?

Yes, the dungeon.

5. Do your muses want children?

Feyd is like the Baron in the sense in that he has a great deal of disgust for the Bene Gesserit breeding program. However he is fascinated by them, and it's like 'penis envy' but in reverse (whatever that's called). I think if it came to it, he'd come round to the idea of an heir, though we better keep that little mf away from him if it's a boy because he's definitely the kind of father who'd be overly competitive with a son.

Eshal would rather cut out her own tongue than consider having a child outside of the breeding program (this may or may not change).

6. Do your muses want to get married?

No.

7. Do your muses have any pets together?

Feyd has his harpy pets. Eshal can share them I suppose.

8. What do your muses do for fun together?

One tortures the other. The other screams. And then occasionally pisses themselves and starts laughing deliriously.

9. Which one of your muses is more affectionate?

An anaconda is more affectionate than either of them.

10. Who's most likely to apologise first after an argument?

Argument? What argument?

11. What was your muses first impression of each other?

Feyd thought she was very pretty in the way a deer is very pretty just before you shoot and kill it. The deers on Giedi Prime have poison tongues though, so if one gets you just before you get it, it's over for both of you.

Eshal thought he was bald and barbaric as fuck. Her opinion hasn't changed.

12. What is one word that would describe your muses relation?

Demonic.

13. What is your muse's sex life like? How frequent? What are they into?

*awkward laugh* Not with each other...but uhhhh...well, I'm guessing since Eshal hasn't been admitted into any kind of Bene Gesserit breeding program yet, she's still a virgin (?) I don't know if they're allowed to have sex recreationally outside of their assigned penis-havers.

Feyd fucks. Like everyday. Doggy position is his favourite. He doesn't like eye contact until it's on his own terms, and he doesn't like any kind of intimacy that involves being reminded the person he's fucking is also a human being. Hence the doggy position where he doesn't have to see their face. I also headcanon that he's into CNC/Bloodplay/Asphyxiation/Humiliation/Degradation all that stuff, ya know? He's also massively into Fearplay. If you don't know what that is...get acquainted.

14. Do your muses have a 'song' that's just for them?

No, but I have some for them.

[tamh-camhanaichh]

[ INTRO POST ]

Hi there! You can call me Ro - I'm 21+ and go by he/they! I decided to make a blog separate for all my rp endeavours, so feel free to look through whatever I post or shoot me a message if you think we might get along! I'm a pretty selective writer but I'm always open to chat! I write typically advanced literate, multi-para to novella style (500-1500 words an average reply, but can go up to 3000+ with other novella writers!) though the length depends on what's going on in the scene. I prefer longer replies and starters, action-packed, significant moments tend to be longer, but it entirely depends, and if I like an ad preferring shorter replies then I can match that too! I roleplay exclusively on discord! This blog is just for sharing things about my muses and finding new partners. I write both fandomless and fandom rps, ocs and canons! For ocs, I write a variety of muses; male, female, trans and nonbinary, of all ages, backgrounds, and ethnicities. Transphobia and racism will not be tolerated here. If you aren't open to trans or non-white muses, do not interact. I also write all pairings, but I tend to primarily write mxm (with trans/nb variations.) I am, however, absolutely open to mxf and fxf (with all trans/nb variations.) I use realistic faceclaims most of the time, or anime or picrew ones, with descriptions. I do not do wanted faceclaims or change my faceclaims. I am pro-ship and engage with dead dove type topics and am more than happy to include them in roleplays. Expect to see some gritty topics or aesthetics here for some of my muses. I, of course, do not endorse dubious or harmful topics/behaviour in real life; it is purely fiction! Things like abuse, dubcon/noncon, stalking, murder, torture, self-harm, drug use, mental health issues, etc, may be included in this blog. I love dark, gritty roleplays. I love fleshing out characters and stories and getting completely into our muses' heads and building the world around them. I love detail, headcanons, complex characters, dynamics and relationships. Give me nuance and complexity and depth, please! NSFW wise, I am absolutely open to it and love it as a way to develop our characters, but I do not typically rp smut as a priority. Almost all of my characters are switches and very few are strict subs/doms (and those that are are typically the opposite of what you might expect them to be). I do not enjoy writing as or against very soft characters or strict submissives. I love rambling about muses, spamming pinterest aesthetics, assigning songs and lyrics to muses, etc! I love ooc chatter if we roleplay, but I'll never pester you if it's not your vibe. I am ghost friendly and will always be open to restarting a rp or plotting again, I don't hold grudges and I don't care much to block people unless there's a legitimate reason. If I block you, it's because boundaries were overstepped or ghosting was a response to trans or non-white muses. Below are some fandoms, canon muses, fandom oc settings, and fandomless tropes/vibes that I love! Feel free to message me about any of them! Fandoms/tropes with a * are the ones I'm currently most interested in!

FANDOMS:

Death Note (L, ocs)

Attack on Titan (Erwin, Levi, Jean, Bertholdt, ocs*)

Blue Eye Samurai (Mizu)**

Given (Haruki)

Demon Slayer (ocs)

Castlevania (Alucard)

Dune (Paul, Feyd-Rautha, ocs)

Hannibal NBC

Sherlock BBC (Moriarty)

Strangers from Hell (Moon-Jo)

Taxi Driver

SK8 (Ainosuke)

Skyrim (ocs)**

Baldur's Gate 3 (ocs**, Gale, Wyll)

The Boys (Homelander, Hughie)

Midnight Mass

Interview with the Vampire (TV series) (Lestat, Armand)

Bones and All (Lee)

The Hunger Games (ocs)

Saltburn (Felix)

The Bear (Carmen)

The Umbrella Academy (Klaus, Luther, Five, Dave)

Gotham (Oswald, Edward, Victor, Jervis)

Feel free to ask me about my muses and canon ships! I also have several ocs for these universes!

GENERAL TROPES/PLOTS/GENRES/INSPO:

Historical - 1800s, Jane Eyre, Bridgerton vibes*

Medieval fantasy - LOTR, Skyrim type vibes**

1950s - mental health asylums, murder couple, freak show vibes

Grunge vibes - rough backgrounds, settings, environments for rough muses

Obsession to the ends of the earth; cannibalism as a metaphor for love (and just general cannibalism), murder in the name of love; abuse/torture/toxicity in the name of love*

Dystopia/apocalypse - TLOU, Hunger Games vibes, corrupt governments and dangerous worlds

Vampires; werewolves; mercreatures - I am ALWAYS a sucker for vampire/human, vampire/werewolf, mercreature/human

Cults, psychological horror, southern gothic, religious trauma - think Bones and All, Ethel Cain, Midnight Mass, The Devil all the Time. Bonus points for trans muses involved - the black sheep gone unhinged and murdery

Found family

Doomed by the narrative + haunting the narrative

WWI; fictional war settings; young soldiers lied to and thrown into the worst action, coming back home and struggling

1920s dark academia; university settings; murder mystery; philosophy

Mxm age gaps - rugged older men getting the spark back into their lives with a wild, cocky little thing. Bonus points for Wild West settings

Literature inspires a lot of my Vibes: Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Frankenstein, Paradise Lost, Dostoevsky, Rebbeca, Kafka, and more

[lady-phasma]

Actually the safest. Welcome!

Is this a safe space to say I think that feyd-rautha was attractive?

[brooklynislandgirl]

SHIPPING INFO // Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

REPOST. Don’t reblog.

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

I will have to go with Jo's answer here and say every ship I have has something about it that makes it my OTP, something unique to us and our partner/their muse. And I don't want anyone to feel excluded or unloved or less loved than anyone else. I do think because she was literally created side by side with @morgansmornings that they share a deep bond that is both familial and the deepest sort of friendship. They are family. They are transcendent.

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

Platonic, familial, and romantic are all on the table with discussion ooc, time, and development. I will do pre-established on the first two but Beth is demisexual/quoiromantic, with a leaning toward sapioromantic. Meaning it takes bonding with someone before she even feels anything 'below the belt' so to speak, and doesn't really understand/distinguish the difference between romantic/platonic feelings, treating them both in the same way, but she does have a very slight preference toward people who can engage her mentally, and seduce her with their awkward intelligence. Toxic ships can be a thing with huge boundaries. The boundary is how comfortable with you as a friend, ooc, regardless of what we are writing. Currently I will be willing to do toxic with: Mischa/Larry { @thebiggestlies }, My Dear Prince and Ionaka {and potentially Na Baron Feyd Rautha @nightmarefuele }, Shades of Ben { @kylo-wrecked }. And I live for the hate-ship of Lorcan and Beth with @macdiari, whose mun is totally one of my bffs which makes it funnier. We can have meetings about the rest. Dubcon/non-con, etc...has to be plotted to within an inch of its life, I don't care what Beth says.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable? Age is not a really a thing with Beth when it comes to her significant other as long as they are a little over 'of age' {18-21}. She has literally one ship where this isn't the case and her paramour is 15 and she's 25...and it isn't what many people would assume, both of them are broken hearted. This a unique situation with @macdiari. Beth does have a penchant for older partners. Let the 'daddy issue' jokes commence.

Are you selective when shipping?

I would say yes. I only ship with chemistry. And by that I mean myself and the mun as much as the muses. Shipping requires a delicate balance between interest, trust, compatibility, goals... writing something fictional that isn't just pwp is not unlike building a real-life relationship. I want to get to know the other mun. I want us to have in-jokes, I want for us to be comfortable talking about everything and anything even if we might not always agree. I want us to be friends, first.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

I guess I follow the TV guidelines. We can write up to a certain point but once there's body parts that you wouldn't see on network television, it should probably get a tag. I don't care if there's a read more {I will occasionally do that for terminally long posts}, if my partner is more comfortable with one, great. If they prefer it on a different blog, awesome. If you want to write it on discord? Go ahead and add me, fren. I try to faithfully tag certain things because Beth is just...wrong and a lot of her hobbies and interests tend to be really morally questionable at best.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

Beth tends to be drawn to people who are neurologically divergent, biologically divergent, other-worldly, empowered, and the like. She is drawn to those who are lonely, othered, or unusual because there is so much in them she sees in herself. And if Beth happens to fall in love, she is neither likely to mention it, nor does she expect for the feeling to be returned. For Beth, love is love. So if you see someone on my dash, unless it's brand new just met you, know that they are cared for, and will always be someone important. As I consider every mutual mun and their muse{s} as some kind of relationship {platonic, familial, romantic, or enemy...I can't really list *every* blog. Sorry.}

Does one have to ask to ship with you?,

I mean it's nice to be asked, so at least I know in broad-strokes what sort of relationship you, the other person, might like but also the fiction can often dictate the course of how things go :)

How often do you like to ship?

I am not gonna lie. I love watching and writing how Beth interacts with people. How she slowly starts to unfold around them and what leads her to becoming involved with other folk.

Are you multiship?

Yes. And multiverse, too. One of the best things is when you have a multi-verse partner and get to see how your ships and theirs change from friends to other things, depending what verse your in, and how everyone can make a community with that information.

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

Ship more or less. I love it as much as the next person but that's not the sole purpose of my blog.

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

I am still waiting for Olivia and Elliot to get married. IYKTYK.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Let me know what you want? Be patient. We'll talk boundaries, desires, needs, and build it/grow it as it goes.

Tagged by: my darling @betwitchingbaker

Tagging: Heave ho, thieves and beggars....

[lady-phasma]

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen - Dune: Part 2

Put your right hand in the box.

[standuphippy]

April Favorites

Here’s what I enjoyed in April. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3WbeAjSRqOfrT5QTeWFzcI?si=6qChvQEXRaCP3Ze2ZkkVvA

NEW MUSIC: 
 Bob Dylan “I Contain Multitudes” I’ve enjoyed all of the singles he’s been releasing. Folk epics.

Cowboy Junkies “Ghosts” An elegiac record for the Timms siblings’ mother, from a band that’s always made the mournful sound sublime. I finally went to see Cowboy Junkies a few years ago. The first set was their 2018 album “All That Reckoning,” the second set was to be the hits. During the intermission the building next door caught on fire and that was it. Hope to see them again someday, but if that’s the story then so it goes. So close.

Danzig “Sings Elvis” Glenn Danzig’s fully embracing his non-Satanic muse. It seems overdue but he’s really going for it and I’m glad he’s having fun.

Fiona Apple “Fetch the Bolt Cutters” It’s a masterpiece, as advertised. As uncompromising and fully realized as Rid of Me or Exile In Guyville.

Flat Worms “Antarctica” 
Excellent garage punk.


Hazel English “Wake UP!” A solid dream pop album and a step up from her other records, though those are good too.

Jackie Lynn “Jacqueline” Originally Jackie Lynn was Haley Fohr’s country music alter-ego outside of Circuit Des Yeux. The Jackie Lynn records seem to be a bit looser and playful, but honestly I’ll check out anything Fohr does regardless of the name on the sleeve.

Laura Marling “Song For Our Daughter” It’s one of her best.

Marisa Anderson and Tara Jane O’Neill “You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To” I’m a fan of both of these artists and this collaboration is inspired.

Purity Ring “WOMB” Twinkling body fascination.

RVG “Feral” “Perfect Day” is on the playlist and it’s such a sweet, funny song. The whole record is a winner.

Samantha Crain “Holding to the Edge of Night” A stunning song. Can’t wait for the record.

Seazoo “Joy” Impeccable indie pop.

Thundercat “It Is What It Is” Got that right.  

Yves Tumor “Heaven to a Tortured Mind” Incredible record. Everything about it: the cover, the title, and the unpredictable music.

OLD MUSIC (reissues) :
 Caspar Brötzmann Massaker “Koksofen, Home” Southern Lord started reissuing CBM on vinyl last year; this year they put out Koksofen and Home, both of which I was fortunate enough to hear when they were initially released. I grew up in a small town in Iowa. In high school we knew a guy who’d graduated ahead of us and worked at the public library. This one guy singlehandedly introduced dozens of teens to the glory of Amphetamine Reptile Records. He championed noise rock across the board, including more high minded sounds like those of Caspar Brötzmann Massaker. Dissonant and monstrous. Great stuff. RIP, Tim, I would have missed out on so much.

OLD MOVIES: 
The American Astronaut (2001) If you crossed Eraserhead with Ice Pirates and added musical numbers you might end up with something like this.

The Bride (1985) I was eleven years old when this came out. Around this age I was beginning to connect the dots in entertainment in terms of identifying performers across projects. I loved fantasy films (80’s!) and “Synchronicity” by The Police. I’d seen Sting as Feyd Rautha in David Lynch’s Dune. I was excited to see The Bride, but there was no exhilaration when I watched it and I felt disappointed. Watching it years later, I can see why I was disenchanted as a kid: it’s a pretty bleak film. That being said, the production design and cinematography are gorgeous, and I think Clancy Brown’s performance is excellent, especially when viewed in contrast to his performance as the Kurgan in Highlander, which came out that same year.

The 400 Blows (1959) I know there are more films that follow the life of the character Antoine Doinel, but I just want to think of him as running on that beach for awhile.

Blue Thunder (1983) Happy Birthday to Me (1981) Seeing the posters for these movies as a child left permanent marks on my brain. Because they occupied that space for so long, I felt like I had a relationship with these films, when honestly, I’d never seen them and simply knew that they existed.

When I was six years old I was horrified and transfixed by the poster for Happy Birthday to Me. The actual film is over-plotted and ridiculous and culminates with a Scooby-Doo-worthy reveal but I admire how ambitious it is. I associate slasher films with low-budget fare but in the first ten minutes a character jumps an elevating drawbridge in a car.

In the case of Blue Thunder, the darkness of the poster was captivating. When I found out it was about a technologically advanced helicopter it only raised more questions. Was it like Megaforce? Was it fun? Watching it today, when police regularly use military-grade equipment, the plot’s privacy concerns seem quaint. The helicopter duel over Los Angeles is amazing, though, especially in the pre-CGI era.

[lady-phasma]

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen - Dune: Part 2

My poor darlings are hungry. There was no food for them on the flight.

[lady-phasma]

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen - Dune: Part 2

na-Baron Sass is more like it

[lady-phasma]

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen - Dune: Part 2

Your new blades for this very special day, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha