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mintyys-blog · 24 days ago

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Hellooo!! I saw ur reqs open and I've been a big fan of ur invincible x reader works so I was wondering if you can write about how the different mark variants react to the reader having twins; 1 boy and 1 girl? Or how they inter with the babies?

Regardless if u wanna write about it or not, thank you!

HEADCANON | the variants reacting to you having twins

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: pregnancy, childbirth,

MAIN MARK

Mark was stunned when the doctor first told him it was twins. He blinked at the ultrasound screen, eyes wide, hand clutched tightly in yours. “Two?” he whispered, voice cracking just slightly.

He cried when they were born.

He held your daughter first, cradling her so gently, like she was made of glass. Then came your son, who instantly grabbed Mark’s pinky finger in his tiny hand—and that was it. Mark was a goner.

He’s the kind of dad who doesn’t care how exhausted he is after hero work—he comes home and immediately scoops one of them up. He does the midnight feedings when he can, always humming softly to them, even when his eyes are barely open.

Mark makes it a point to split his attention. He reads storybooks with one on each leg, plays peekaboo until he’s sweating, and narrates entire fights from the day like bedtime stories—censored and dramatic just to make them giggle.

He’s a sucker for when they both reach for him at once. He’ll hold them at the same time, bouncing slightly while pressing kisses to their heads.

“They’re gonna be so strong,” he whispers to you one night, both twins sleeping between you two on the bed. “But we’re gonna make sure they’re kind too.”

SINISTER MARK

Mark never planned on having kids.

He didn’t think he could even want them—not with the life he lived, not with the way he was. But when you told him you were pregnant, he didn’t run. He stared at you in silence, the only sign of emotion a twitch in his jaw. And when you said it was twins, he laughed dryly under his breath and muttered, “Of course.”

He was rough around the edges during the pregnancy—aloof, distant, always out handling things—but when you went into labor, he didn’t leave your side once. Pacing, snapping at the doctors, his hands bloody from someone stupid enough to slow him down on the way in. But when the cries of your son and daughter filled the room?

Everything changed.

He held them awkwardly at first, not used to anything so fragile. But when your daughter blinked up at him with your eyes, and your son grunted softly in his arms?

Sinister Mark melted.

He didn’t show it, of course. He still had that cold, unreadable expression. But he never let them out of his sight. He rocked them gently with one arm while handling intergalactic calls with the other. He never yelled around them. Never used the same tone he used with the rest of the world.

He called them “his little monsters” in a low, amused voice.

And they adored him.

He trained them early—light strength drills, balance, focus. But never pushed too hard. Your daughter was fiery; your son was quiet. He loved them both in his own silent, possessive way. “I don’t care if they burn planets down one day,” he muttered one night, holding them both in the crook of his arms as they dozed. “As long as they come home to you.”

MOHAWK MARK

Mark wasn’t just a ruler—he was the damn Emperor.

People bowed when he walked in. Worlds knelt before his power. He’d fought armies, led conquests, spilled blood on every corner of the galaxy.

But nothing—nothing—prepared him for the moment he held his newborn son and daughter.

He stared down at them like they were made of starlight and gold. Your daughter’s tiny fists curled in his cape. Your son sneezed and made a little sound that had him laughing, almost breathless. The grin that spread across his face was so wide, so genuine, it made even the Viltrumite guards in the room look away.

“This—this is my legacy,” he murmured. “You made something stronger than a throne.”

At home, he was still intense. Still commanding. But softer in subtle ways.

He’d sit on his throne with one twin on each leg, daughter tugging at his hair and son sleeping against his chest while he held council. He’d feed them himself, not trusting anyone else to get it right.

“Only the best,” he’d say, wiping his daughter’s mouth gently with a silk cloth. “They came from you.”

He was so smug about them too. Would not shut up. Would show hologram pics of them mid-battle. “See that? That’s my kid. She threw up on me this morning. Isn’t she perfect?”

You caught him once, dead of night, sneaking into the nursery. His expression completely softened, one massive hand stroking your son’s hair while he whispered Viltrumite lullabies you didn’t even know he remembered.

He never let you carry them up the palace stairs.

You’d try—and he’d just scoop you and both babies up without blinking. “My queen,” he said, kissing your temple, “you gave me the empire I never knew I wanted.”

OMNI MARK

Omni Mark had stared down monsters. He’d broken planets with his bare hands, shattered civilizations, and rewritten the course of history in blood and fire.

But now, in the quiet of your home, he stood before two tiny cradles—his children—and he felt something he hadn’t in centuries:

Uncertainty. A boy and a girl. Twins. Perfectly healthy. Human… and yet, undeniably his.

He didn’t speak when the doctor placed them in his arms. He didn’t blink. He simply looked down at them like he was studying some foreign object. Something he didn’t quite understand.

“Mark,” you whispered from the bed, exhausted but smiling, “they’re waiting to meet their dad.”

He looked up. Then slowly, with the same care he used to disassemble machinery with lethal precision, he cradled them closer to his chest.

“They’re… small,” he said, quietly.

You smiled. “They’re babies.”

He was quiet again. His expression unreadable. You could tell he was thinking—calculating, as if trying to understand how two fragile lives could belong to him. “I don’t know if I’m… built for this,” he admitted after a long silence.

You reached over and touched his hand. “You’re learning. That’s all that matters.” And he did try. His version of love was quiet. Stiff. Awkward. He didn’t baby-talk them or cradle them for fun. He didn’t dote or coo. But he was there. He stood like a sentry when they slept.

He ensured every bottle was measured, every schedule followed. If they cried, he picked them up efficiently, holding them with a stillness that somehow made them calm. He didn’t rock or hum—but his presence was a constant reassurance. Sometimes, you caught him watching them. His eyes weren’t soft. But they were intensely focused.

One night, you walked in to find him holding your daughter, her tiny hand clinging to his cape. He wasn’t saying anything—just standing there in the moonlight, watching her sleep against his chest.

“She doesn’t understand what I am,” he murmured. “She doesn’t need to,” you whispered, walking over to lay your head against his arm. “She only needs to know you’re here.” He didn’t answer. But he stayed there. All night.

With time, he learned their patterns. Knew when they were hungry, tired, scared. He wasn’t affectionate in a traditional sense, but his version of fatherhood was methodical, devoted. Every decision, every gesture, was meant to ensure their survival.

And eventually, something in him shifted.

The first time his daughter reached up to touch his face—he froze. Then, slowly, he leaned into her palm. You watched from the doorway. Tears in your eyes. He still didn’t smile. But when she gurgled, he whispered: “Strong. You’ll be strong.”

He would never be the kind of father to kiss scraped knees or coddle fears. But he would shield them from every threat. He would teach them. Shape them. And if anything ever tried to take them from you—anything—he would make sure it never had the chance to try again.

VILTRUMITE MARK

When Mark brought you back with him, it was a choice—his choice. No council. No advisors. Just him claiming what was his. Pregnancy had come quickly.

But when the medical team delivered the results… and he saw two strong heartbeats on the screen? His expression didn’t change. But his posture did. Straightened spine. Chin slightly raised. A rare, breathless pause.

“Twins?” he repeated, voice low. Controlled. But there was something sharp beneath it—pride. “Two healthy Viltrumite hybrids,” the medic confirmed.

You looked at him, unsure if the news would please him or concern him. He was silent for a long time, arms folded, watching the scan like it was the universe itself unfolding.

Then he said, simply: “Excellent.”

That night, he was rougher in the way he pulled you close—but gentler in the way he touched your stomach. A large hand splayed against the small bump beginning to show, and for the first time in days, he kissed you without dominance—just presence.

He started planning.

Not for one child—but two. Double the training, double the strength, double the legacy. He cleared a sector for their future. Reshaped his schedule. Altered guard patterns around your quarters.

They weren’t even born yet, and he was already reshaping empires.

When your stomach grew round and heavy, he lifted you like it was nothing. When cravings hit, he summoned whatever chefs he trusted. He didn’t understand human symptoms—nausea, mood swings—but he endured them. Listened. Adjusted.

And when you winced in pain one night, he was there. Instantly. Hand on your belly, eyes sharp.

“Is it time?”

“No,” you whispered. “They just kicked.”

He dropped to one knee, resting his forehead against your bump.

“Good,” he murmured. “Fight. Even in the womb.”

By the time the twins arrived—one boy, one girl—he held them like future generals, analyzing every sound, every twitch.

But when your daughter grabbed his finger for the first time, he stilled. Truly stilled. Then, with quiet authority, he looked to you and said: “She will lead.”

“And our son?” you asked, smiling through exhaustion. He looked at the boy in his arms. “He will protect her.”

And you knew in that moment—beneath all the violence, beneath the cold rule—there was something real. His love didn’t need to be spoken. It would be carved into the future.

SHIESTY MARK

Mark was not built to be a dad. Or, that’s what everyone would’ve assumed. But then the twins came—one boy, one girl—and everything went sideways in a way he actually liked.

They screamed. A lot. Shitted on him. A lot. One threw up on his chest. He didn’t even flinch. “You little fucker,” he coughed, bouncing the tiny boy in one hand, wiping his face with a towel like this wasn’t the third shirt he’d gone through today.

And he meant that with love. Mark adored those babies like they were his entire world—but holy shit, he had no filter around them. None.

When you got home from grabbing groceries, you found him in the living room with both of them propped in a giant pillow nest like royalty, Mark crouched in front of them pointing at toys.

“Okay, this one’s a fuckin’ dragon,” he told them, holding it up dramatically. “He bites the fuckin’ shit outta anyone who tries you, alright?” You stared at him, jaw dropped. “Mark!”

“What?” He blinked innocently, like he hadn’t just made ‘fuckin’ shit’ the babies’ first lullaby. “I’m bonding with my son and daughter. You don’t want ‘em growin’ up soft, do you?”

…You ignored him.

Until two weeks later. Your daughter dropped her sippy cup. Looked you dead in the eye. And said, clear as day: “Shit.” You dropped the baby spoon in your hand. Slowly turned toward him. “Mark.” He was howling. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly, arms crossed.

You dragged him by the shirt collar into the other room. “You taught our children swear words?!”

“They gotta learn someday!”

“Not before they can say mama.”

“But they can say ‘fuck’ now.” You stared at him, seething. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He grabbed your wrist, pulled you close, grinning. “You just hate that they love me more than you already.”

“You’re a menace.”

“You married a menace.”

Later that night, he was lying in bed with both babies asleep on his chest. Your son was drooling. Your daughter had her tiny fist balled in his shirt.

And Shiesty Mark, the reckless, trash-mouthed bastard you fell in love with, was whispering: “I’ll kill anyone who fucks with you two. Y’hear me? Anyone. You’re mine now.” You watched him from the doorway, leaning against the frame. Still disappointed? Sure. But also… a little in love with him all over again.

PRISONER MARK

Mark never thought he’d see freedom again—let alone fall in love, let alone have a family.

When you told him you were pregnant, he’d stared at you in disbelief. Like you were a hallucination. A dream conjured up by a man who’d been through too much, lost too much. Twins? That was the part that made him sit down.

“…You serious?” he asked softly, as if saying it too loud might shatter the moment. But he stepped up.

He didn’t care that he had to wear disguises, that he had to duck and hide every time he left the house. If it meant keeping you and the babies safe, he’d burn himself out to do it. He’d bring home groceries with shaky hands, bruises from a fight he never told you about, smiling just because you greeted him at the door in one of his hoodies, the twins’ names already written on little post-its over the fridge.

He nearly cried during the birth. Tried to hide it—failed miserably.

He whispered to both of them that night, laying beside your hospital bed, holding one in each arm. “You’re safe now,” he promised. “No one’s ever taking you from me.”

He was so attentive. You’d wake up at 2am and he’d already be feeding one of them, quietly humming some old Earth song he barely remembered the lyrics to. He was protective in a lowkey, constant way—checking the locks three times, always standing between you and a window, never letting his kids out of his sight. His daughter liked to pull his hoodie strings while he was holding her. His son liked to curl up on his chest and nap.

Prisoner Mark was softer than the others in those moments. He smiled more. He relaxed—only around you and them. He’d lie in bed with you at night, watching them sleep in the bassinet beside you. “…Do you think they’ll ever have to see the kind of world I did?” he asked once.

You answered, “Not if we can help it.” He nodded. “Good. ‘Cause I’ll kill the world before I let it touch them.”

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thanergetic-hyperlinks · 2 months ago

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man… the broadcast scene in Nona is really something

It really drives home the perspective flip we get in Nona, having grown accustomed to necromantic hijinks in previous books. We've gone from domestic drama with God's polycule to being one of nine million normal people stranded on a decaying colony planet, where all we know of necros is that they're terrifying wizards.

And then you go to the civic centre for a broadcast from the Empire telling you what's gonna happen to your planet, and you get:

a dead guy with fashion hair

next to another dead corpse who doesn't speak, doesn't seem to breathe, and is just propped up there

we're informed that dead girl is the Emperor's daughter??

“there will be no widespread retaliation against the population, and you will even get to have elections! … unless a single one of you tries to fight, in which case the entire population will be considered a unified legal entity. and by the way, pleas will not be answered by local representatives but by the Emperor. welp”

the first obviously dead person announced themselves as a new lyctor

we're informed that Ur tried to rebel too and they've been annihilated

(meanwhile, the people in charge of the broadcast keep having frankly stupid technical difficulties)

So… yeah, they are wizards and zombies and evil, and also somewhat incompetent.

(Also… I know Ianthe is all about ��applying the boot”, but I'm also convinced she could never rule through charm. She completely lacks the ability her sister or Jod have.)

#TLT #The Locked Tomb #Nona the Ninth #Nona #NtN #after NtN #Ianthe Naberius #Ianthe #Ianthe Tridentarius #Kiriona Gaia #Nona broadcast scene

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controld3vil · 2 months ago

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u love me and i love you

pairing: viltrumite!invincible x unrequited!reader

synopsis: Mark accomplished what his father couldn’t – he conquered Earth. Accepting that wasn’t the hardest part; living with it wears you down.

notes -> accepting requests rn for invincible! cw: canon typical violence, stockholm syndrome, power dynamic, angst, unrequited love, slight spoilers

In the original timeline, Mark does not turn against humanity. He survives Omni-Man’s attack and becomes Earth’s protector. Not only does he defy the Viltrumite Empire, but instead he teams up with the revolutionary cause to end it. Earth, more importantly, Cecil is more than relieved at how merciful their Invincible was. Because in every other version, he puts them to shame – that’s what you heard.

The first time you heard about this dimension-traveling Angstrom Levy was from Mark. He doesn’t tell you much, only that he is from another dimension, wanting revenge on another version of him. The thought of that – even the moment when Mark voices Angstrom's plans to you, he sneers. The fact that this man was willing to come to your dimension to negotiate with your Invincible regarding the vengeance of his doppelganger was deceitful.

“This is clearly a trap.” You spoke out, raising from your seat. Life after the dominance of the Viltrum Empire over your planet changed many things about how you viewed the world – life. Not only was Mark named Emperor, but he willingly took you along with him. Now you resided in the empirical castle of his terrain. Though still on Earth – it looked nothing like the place you were born in years ago. “He’ll take over our world and then the next.”

“You think I haven’t thought of that before?” Your partner snaps, rubbing his forehead vigorously. Mark’s visage has hardened since the day he took over for the Viltrum Empire. No longer was he the sweet boy who left you little trinkets by your locker, or flew by your house for a quick visit to France. He had planets to look after. And now, you can see his ambition growing as he stares down at you with fierce intensity. “He proposed a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” You crossed your arms, skeptical. Because whatever got Mark’s attention was something to be analyzed. It had been a long time since you’d seen him so genuinely interested in anything. The last time you ever saw him this intrigued was when Conquest surrendered himself to him.

“The kind where I get control of other dimensions.” He simply puts it. It was a tricky business. You haven’t met Angstrom Levy, and while still wondering how he managed to contact Mark so quickly, you wondered why go through all the trouble to recruit him. To play foot soldier?

“There’s always a catch to this kind of deal, hon.” You stride towards the wide window, spanning across the entire wall – showcasing the outside world, Earth, or what it looks like now. And every time, you felt a tinge of bitterness. “Can we really trust him?”

“Of course not.” Mark lets out a frustrated groan, insulted by the fact you would question his judgment. But rather than say anything else, he turns his attention to where you are looking at. For a second, you speculated he would make another harsh remark but instead, you see him deep in thought.

You haven’t gotten to see Mark in a while – a few weeks you would gather by all the mayhem and disarray he can go through with the Empire. And every time you would try to bring it up, he wouldn’t give you a straight answer. Because since taking over, Invincible no longer became Mark’s secret persona. It became his identity, for the people of Earth and all other planets Viltrum had under their control. He was a reflection of his father, people would say. By how ruthless and uncaring he was of the millions of people perishing under the jurisdiction of the Viltrum Empire. Earth changed because of him, willingly allowing Viltrumites to conquer and destroy whatever was left of your peaceful home.

You wouldn’t even call it home anymore. You’ve survived long enough to understand because it has been ingrained in your mind. The moment you surrendered yourself to the Empire’s mercy, you knew you would never be the same. Perhaps Mark was your saving grace in that, he kept you as a trophy wife. No one dared to touch you or attempt to talk to you unless it was under his orders.

The longer you stayed in this confined position, the more you began to sympathize and accept Mark for what he was becoming. However, that did not mean you did not fear him still. He terrified you, and with his quick temper, Mark could eliminate anyone who had wronged him the slightest.

“I’ll go through with his proposal. But if he makes the slightest mistake, I’ll gut him.” He says in seriousness. You can tell that even though Mark was confident in his abilities, Angstrom was still an unknown entity. In your world, Angstrom never even made it far to live tomorrow. He was already dead by the time the Viltrum Empire came and took over Earth. Seeing another version of him – more grotesque, and deformed made you wonder, who did this to him?

The fire was everything. In every direction, Mark heard the cries of people, all running away from the very thing that caused it all. Him. It was not as if he cared to become suddenly aware of the miserable lives suffering under his wake. He’s dealt with this before, more likely than his other variants. Every day, in his world, he dealt with threats ten times more threatening than the damage he did to Chicago.

He could not pinpoint why he was feeling a slight disturbance as he continued to do as he was told. Angstrom made it clear to destroy everything for as far as the eyes can see. The fact that he was not fazed, creating mass destruction, in parallel to his Earth again was enough to prove that Mark was no longer human. He was not the boy who wanted to protect Earth from Viltrumites and other unknown aliens. No longer was he shackled by Cecil’s control, recalling the time he nearly tore his ear to remove the chip that could set out a sonic alarm to paralyze him. No longer would he be the boy who lost to his father, Omni-Man who had previously brought terror and turmoil to Earth.

He could barely distinguish the screams now. They all blended so seamlessly, it was like a symphony. He turned, facing the unharmed buildings, standing tall and brave. At tremendous speed, he flies straight through the remaining ones, allowing the collision of every building to fall on top of one another. Like a domino effect, they fell, quicker and more devastating than the next, crushing those around them. Invincible watched as the mass of people ran like ants in every direction to avoid the fall, but it was too late. It crushed everything, people, cars, streets, heroes, and rescue teams alike. Was this what he was looking forward to?

“I got you!” A few miles where Mark hovered, he picked a familiar voice. It was close to the disaster he had provoked, but not so distant that he could afford to underestimate the owner of that voice. Your voice, he always felt, was like a gentle whisper in his wake, tugging on the memories long buried in his mind. It was soft but screamed velocity, panicked but stern affected by the chaos he created. Even in this universe, your voice – your comfort brought a hint of something unspoken to him.

Then, he caught a swift glimpse of black and blue, a blur that left him momentarily frozen.

It was him – from this universe, he did not adorn the Viltrumite uniform, white and gray. Instead, he carries the Invincible uniform, loud and proud as an unrelenting protector of Earth.

He frowns, utterly disappointed at this version of him.

“Hey! Hey – are you okay?” His doppelganger swoops down and lifts you by your shoulders. God, look at you. There you were, all the same features and colors. He remembers you like this, sincere and virtuous, willing to do what’s right to save others. Back then, before the Empire’s control, you always had a kind-hearted mind, always looking out for others, even when you didn’t have to. Because that was the kind of person you were. And despite everything he put you through, you’d still stay with him.

“I’m fine,” You weakly smiled, gripping Invincible’s forearm like it was a lifeline. Your legs were hurt, not broken but badly bashed. Even though Mark knew he shouldn’t feel this way, he still feels bad for you – getting involved in all this. You knew no better than anyone else in this dimension other variants of him were going to attack. “Go – I got it covered.”

He watches from a far distance, as you pull on a child’s limp arm, pushing the rumble away and lifting her against your shoulder. This world’s Mark stares at you with genuine softness in his eyes.

“You’re hurt.”

“I know but this is what I do Mark.” You remark sternly, glancing at the child’s face. She’s crying, dirt and blood dripping from her scalp down to her shoulders. He catches your sympathetic expression, drawing circles on her back for comfort. “You have more things to deal with–”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt!” Mark exclaims, his grip not leaving your shoulders. He moves in front of you, careful of your fragile position. He’s beaten badly and parts of his costume are slowly falling apart. “I– Just be careful, okay?”

Viltrumite Mark sharply focuses on your affectionate gaze, unable to deny the connection between you two. It’s clear – Mark loves you, and his counterpart in this world mirrors the same devotion. The care and understanding you share with one another is undeniable, a kind of love that distinguishes itself from what exists in his world. In his universe, where he rules the Viltrum Empire, and you stand by his side, the love you share takes on an entirely different form.

Of course, you love him, right? If your version has learned to embrace every aspect of Mark and Invincible, then surely you would feel the same in his home dimension. So why does it feel so different?

You pressed a gentle kiss to Mark’s cheek, followed by a reassuring pat on the spot where your lips lingered. “Go,” You say, your smile widening, capturing your natural beauty even with all the dusk and debris fallen on you. “The world needs their Invincible.”

Mark grins, before letting go of you. With one last glance, he zooms off the ground and disappears.

On Day Three, Mark meets with his other variants, hovering over his old home. Luckily, his mom, Debbie, was smart enough to desert this place. Angstrom called for it, yet none of the other variants seemed to know what it was about. But seeing it all – the major cities, all the people burning brought a smile to his face. His sick and despicable plan was running smoothly, only after a few setbacks, eliminating the weaker Mark variants, and now left with eight, he wanted to draw him out.

But Mark couldn’t stop thinking. He couldn’t shake the thought of this version of – and you, The truth was, you looked so much happier than your counterpart back home. Your smiles were wider, your complexion brighter. What could he do to make you feel that joy? What was he doing wrong? Because everything he’s done for the Viltrum Empire, for Earth, was for you. He spared you the misery. So why couldn’t express the same affection had when his other version saved you?

“Tell me something about the Viltrumites.” He remembers you asking some time ago. He’s taken aback by this, because never in all his time reigning, would you ask about his work. You knew what he was up to, ordering the Viltrumites with tasks, keeping Earth in check, and executing those who opposed his tyrannical rule. But not a single time since you came – surrendered, had you been so curious about his work.

Even now, as you wear the Viltrumite colors, you look strikingly regal – an image so different from your usual style on Earth. You were his Queen, as the people often called you. But you never let their praise linger for too long. If you did, it would pull you back to those painful memories of the invasion, memories you fought so hard to forget.

“What do you want to know?” he asks, his voice unusually soft, sensing that this rare moment is one of the few times he’s seen you unguarded – vulnerable and real with him.

Accepting his proposal to stay by his side while he ruined millions of times for the sake of the Empire, made you despise yourself. Knowing all your friends and family were gone, you couldn’t look at Mark for weeks. Trapped in a grand castle, surrounded by Viltrumites, you felt like a prisoner – despite being named a leader in their eyes. You chose this path, and yet, you despised yourself for it.

Over time, though, you began to accept it, as nothing would change with Mark in charge. He controlled the most powerful Viltrumites, along with hundreds of other planets filled with stronger soldiers. Resisting his cause felt pointless. Ultimately, he had given you a merciful way out, and you had taken it.

“Your strongest soldiers, Thragg and Conquest. They’ve ruled before you?” You fiddled with a pillow on the couch you sat on. You were curious about Viltrumites in general. Knowing Mark for so long, you’ve asked about his heritage previous times, unaware of the implications of his future.

“Thragg did.” Finally, he moved to sit opposite of you, on a sofa chair. This room – this entire castle – was supposed to be your home, but it never felt like it. Mark knew with the way you gripped the pillow, how your fingers tightened with every passing thought. He knew the internal conflict you were wrestling with. You were trying to make conversation, trying to push away the nightmares that seemed to linger just beneath the surface. It hurt him to see you like this – knowing that a part of it was his doing,

“Then, he appointed me.” Mark continued, his voice heavy with a trace of something unreadable. “Or, rather, because I almost… killed him.”

You hummed, sensing the weight of his word, and knowing how the events had turned out. “Do you think they’ll ever betray you?”

Mark’s smirk widened, though there was a cold edge to it. “Well, if they did, they would be dead by now.” His voice carried a dark, stoic undertone as if the truth of it had settled long ago. “So that’s why they work for me.”

You leaned forward, crossing one knee over the other. Your elbow rested casually on your knee, chin settling comfortably in your hand, a soft smile curving your lips. “The Invincible Mark Grayson,” you said, the words carrying something harder to define. “Viltrumite’s Emperor.”

For a brief second, the armor around him seemed to crack, a flash of something vulnerable flickering behind his walls.

“Would you betray me?” Mark met your gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment. His tone was distant as if he was speaking to someone else entirely.

You had thought long about that question. Would you? For months, all you thought about was leaving the Empire – to pursue your freedom. However, there were many moments in this place that you pondered over. In the wake of midnight, you always stayed awake, watching the Empire colonies thrive. It was the only scenery you welcomed because it was simply there outside your window. But after some time, you felt at peace with it, knowing that although the Viltrumites were cruel, they had their reasons to pursue what was meant to be on the top of the food chain.

Many nights, you’d see Mark, lingering like a faint shadow. He never made his presence noticed but you always knew he was watching. He was afraid of your reaction – afraid you would push him away. That despite your agreement, he knew some part of you still rejected him.

“If you asked me on the day I stepped into this place, then yes. I would’ve, in a heartbeat.” You tilted your head slightly, and in an instant, your tender look was replaced by the familiar, stoic mask Mark had managed to hone in on. “But now – I don’t even think betrayal is even possible. If I’m being completely honest, I stopped thinking about escaping weeks ago.”

Your words shouldn’t have made him shudder so quickly, especially when he still believed there was hope in this kind of relationship.

“That’s… good – I mean…” A subtle smile slowly creeps up on Mark’s face. Despite all the wrongs he’d committed, winning you over would relinquish all his pain and guilt. Your smile – you were the reason he can keep on moving forward. Without it, Mark wouldn’t be Invincible – he wouldn’t be anything. You are the glue that keeps him together. “That’s progress.”

It became no surprise to him when you told him you wanted to be involved in critical matters. Weeks after the conversation, Viltrumite Mark began to notice subtle shifts in your behavior. You became more open, more bold with questions, and began to act like yourself again. Old virtuous you, pestering more about his well-being than your own. It was charming how captivating you can be without even trying.

Checking in on you became a gradual routine. You’d sit in your office, filing plans and paperwork with the other Viltrum officers while Mark strides around to make sure everyone is paying attention. You fell into the position of a commanding officer diligently, ordering soldiers twice your size to do tasks and dismiss the cold stares of those reluctant.

For a while, he believed you had started to enjoy life in the Empire.

That was what he wanted to believe in. But at the end of the day, you were human – not a Viltrumite. You’d seen the ways – the techniques how Viltrumites dealt with their prey. You were always the bystander, standing along the sidelines, staring at the hopeless be pulled out of their misery. You had no joy in what you did. You only did what you had to do to survive.

Maybe that was the reason why you were still scared of him. Why do you never initiate physical affection or heartwarming compliments like your counterpart in the other dimension? In Mark’s world, you never got the happiness you deserve. You were merely a chess piece at his disposal.

You never looked at him with genuine love. The only soft expression he’d receive were your smiles, short and innocent, as if treating him like an acquaintance more than a partner. Because that was what he was, right? You were the Queen, and he was the Emperor.

#invincible #invincible s3 #invincible show #invincible season 3 #invincible x reader #invincible x you #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #invincible war #invincible variants #invincible variant x reader #viltrumite mark #viltrumite mark x reader #viltrumite mark x you #invincible spoilers #requ

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thatforkedroad · 20 days ago

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could this mean that I'm coming home

summary: Luke Skywalker’s relationships with other Jedi as he builds his new order and academy.

------

It takes some time for the festivities on Endor and in the wider galaxy to fizzle down, and even longer still for anything to even slightly settle long enough for both of them to rest. There’s always some new problem arising, some new political drama or skirmish with remnants who don’t take the Emperor’s death well or don’t believe in it at all. But Luke and Leia have always been good at adapting and they always manage to squeeze time to talk to each other, whether it’s in the corner of a peace gala or in a dropship headed to the frontlines.

For those first few weeks, their conversations always seem to circle back around to the fact that they’re twins, and what this means for them both. In some ways, there’s not a lot to discuss; their bond goes deeper than blood or friendship, it runs through the songs of the Force, stronger than anything Luke has ever felt. One night, they spend hours comparing and trying to work out what was coincidence and what were actually latent Force abilities. They talk about childhood dreams of each other’s planets and how — despite both losing all they had once called home only hours before and the imminent threat — everything just felt right when they reunited on the Death Star. Like a small part of them had been missing until then, tied by invisible string to something very far away.

Outside of it connecting her to new twin, Leia does not seem interested in the Force. She listens intently when he tells her what he knows of the Force, but Leia has never wanted to be a Jedi. She is a politician, like the mother and father who raised her were. She spends her busy days on Coruscant and Chandrila and wherever else she’s required to go to build the fractured Republic her parents tried to save. She finds as much time as she can for him , but she finds time inside of that only to learn the basics of Jedi training, nothing more.

Luke understands. It’s alright. He’s sure more Jedi will resurface soon, now the Empire has been defeated. It’s just a matter of time...

>> READ THE REST ON AO3

#the last (4) jedi #luke skywalker #leia organa #ahsoka tano #din djarin #grogu #ezra bridger #cal kestis #nightsister merrin #merrin #greez dritus #star wars #star wars rebels #jfo #total write forever #fic

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clairerosetarot · 2 months ago

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PICK A PIC! Your Future Spouse’s Kinks | 18+ 💦

Also: Don’t give to much meaning to the words in parenthesis, they are just used to specify which gif is which, try to focus on the feeling instead! 🤭🧘‍♀️

Well hello there guys!!!! I’m so sorry that I took so long to get back, March is really kicking my 🍑 lol. Anyways I’m back and wont take a break again for quite a while I hope. :) Let’s get started with the reading.

Decks Used: Rider-Waite and The Golden Future (oracle) by Diana Cooper

Pile 1 🌊

Cards: The Lovers, Illuminated Light, Family Relationships.

Wow, This is really interesting Pile 1! I’ve never really heard of this before but it seems like your partner has enveloped sexual energy with a light, almost healing, loving one. I believe they have a ‘love kink’ is that even a thing? lol 😆 Or perhaps a mutual praise kink. Showering you with expensive gifts and travels too. I swear I had a pile similar to this in my last reading so if you picked that as well then this is definitely for you.

I feel like your partner didn’t have all the love in their household available to them growing up. Maybe their parents were divorced, or just always away for work. They saw this and wanted things to be different, imagined a life for themselves where they marry who they really love and shower them in it everyday. If their parents weren’t divorced then maybe they just come from a culture where showing love outwardly isn’t expressed and they felt like a black sheep for wanting that. They want to engage in extreme sensory pleasures with you, pile 1. No pain, just pleasure is what i’m hearing. Massage oil, feathering touches and caresses in between soft kisses, chocolate honey and strawberries (Food is coming through here - could be a Taurus ♉️), maybe some flavored lube lmao 🤣 They are sort of cracking me up with this and if you are a sort of ‘bossy’ type of person and having trouble receiving such affection I get that, but they will also make you feel good AF!! “Just lay back and left me try to make you squirt” Is what i’m hearing LMAOO they are kinda freaky but wrap it in such love and respect they hold for you. If you were expecting hard bondage and slapping i’m sorry my dears, this person probably doesn’t get that but will do it to make you happy i’m hearing.

Overall Your future spouse will love you in the most tender and heartfelt way! You’ll feel adored, cherished, and supported every single day. The future looks bright and full of love! 💕🌟

Hope that brings a smile to your face!

Pile 2 🌊

Cards: The Star (why so many major arcana already lol I think my readers rate attracting some big time freaks 🥵), The Waters of the Planet, The Super Love Portal, The emperor jumped out also.

Okay, can somebody say dom?? Even if you are to wed a women pile 2, your future spouse will be dominating AF. They might like to hear you cry Mommy/Daddy for them 🫣. You guys are the type of couple that falls into these roles very easily in bed ( or elsewhere 😏) and keeps it up until old age. Big “old couple grinding on each at the nursing home” energy here lmao. They will also have a voyeurism kink, I think they are little too possessive to actually have s*x in front of other people, but perhaps letting others know in a sneaky way by leaving hickeys on your neck or scratches on your back.

You know how some people are subjected at work by their boss so they become dominant in bed? Well, your future spouse is the opposite. They have a dominant almost domineering presence at work and a loving, but also just as firm role in s*x. They could be an ENTJ, i’m not good with mbti but they fit that vibe. As for signs i’m getting Scorpio or Capricorn energy, not necessarily their sign just the energy they have. I feel like this person is cold to certain people, especially at their job, however when it comes to you, let’s just say they indulge in you in extra special treatment. You definitely get pretty princess treatment with them, that’s how you’ll know they’re the one! But be careful pile 2 as if you are not used to this treatment it will attract jealousy. My advice is to mediate and communicate well together outside the bedroom since your chemistry is so electric within it. 😉❤️‍🔥

Overall Your future spouse will be a strong, dominant, and confident person, but their love for you will be equally strong and full of devotion. They will protect, lead, and support you in ways that make you feel safe, loved, and empowered. Together, you’ll conquer the world! 🌍💪

Hope this reading resonates with you! 🌟

Pile 3 🌊

Cards: Page of Wands, Our Beautiful Planet, The 12 Chakras,

Let me set the scene for you my pile 3s: you can tell your partner is a little nervous, they don’t give themselves to just anyone. They are sensitive, sweet, smart and highly spiritual. You two get close and you ask them lightheartedly flirting what they like in bed. Still their cheeks warm just thinking about it. They muster the courage themselves to tell you; Making you c*m with me.

Pile 3, your future spouse is definitely the shy and sensitive type. The type you want to bring home to your mother and keeps an open mind about all your tarot-loving hippy dippy stuff. They feel bad about it, they really do, but when you’re around looking the way you look to them, they think of nothing else but making you c*m. I think they will have a kundalini awakening with you that causes this. When you to come together… and c*m together, it feels earth shattering and universally orgasmic. 🤤

I almost don’t want to say to much in comparison to the other piles because of what a sweet soul they are, but they could be bullied in the past and that causes them to have a lot of empathy or others, especially for women. Unlike many they want to know how to make a woman reach her climax and they get off more on that sometimes than taking. I’ll leave you on that delightful note to ponder, pile 3.

Your future spouse will be a warm, sensitive soul, giving all their love and care to you. Their deep emotional connection will make you feel safe and loved, and they’ll always put effort into making your relationship flourish. Together, you’ll build a beautiful, loving life. 💖🌟

I hope this reading fills you with love and positivity! 🌷✨

—

That’s all y’all! See you next time, and remember if it don’t apply let it fly!

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luv-lock · 2 months ago

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How would alien!reader be once mark becomes the viltrumite emperor?

She’s still with Mark. Of course, she is. Where the hell else would she be? She’s obsessed with him. Always has been, always will be. There’s no universe where she lets him go.

Their kids? All grown up now. Still adorable little freaks, still worship her like she’s a literal god. (Which, let’s be real, she kinda is.) They inherited her looks, her instincts, and that whole creepy-but-cute thing she has going on. They love Mark, obviously, but their real loyalty is to their mom. If she told them to burn a planet down, they’d do it without blinking.

And her? She’s different now.

No more playing dumb. No more broken English. That was cute while it lasted, but she doesn’t need to act like some clueless alien anymore.

She speaks perfectly now.

And the way she acts? Completely different.

She’s not that weird, clingy little thing Mark found anymore. Now? She carries herself like the goddamn Queen she is. She’s graceful, terrifying, and always watching.

And yeah—bikini. Always.

Mark tried to get her to wear actual clothes at some point, but she laughed in his face. She hates clothes, always will. Too restrictive. Too stupid. She wears the bare minimum and dares anyone to say something.

Mark’s Emperor of Viltrum now. Big deal. She doesn’t care. He’s always been her Emperor. The only difference is now everyone else has to acknowledge it too.

And her? Yeah, she’s his wife. His Queen. His immortal, overpowered, terrifyingly devoted wife.

She takes care of him.

And I mean, really takes care of him.

If she feels him aging? She fixes it.

If he so much as feels sore after a fight? She erases the damage.

Mark is not allowed to weaken. Not allowed to age. Not allowed to die.

And he hates it at first. He doesn’t wanna be some immortal being. He doesn’t wanna be kept alive forever.

Too bad.

She never asked.

She just did it.

Because in her head? He belongs to her. And she refuses to let time take him away.

Eventually, he just accepts it. Because he loves her too much to fight her on it forever.

She’s still the best mother ever.

Doesn’t matter that their kids are fully grown, probably terrifying, and could wipe out civilizations if they wanted. To her? They’re still her babies.

And they know it.

She still touches them, still pets their hair, still hums lullabies while braiding it. (Mark has walked in on fully grown warriors sitting patiently while she plays with their hair. He does not understand it. At all.)

The worst part?

They listen to her over Mark.

He’s the Emperor of Viltrum, goddammit, but if she says something different? They follow her.

Mark: “Go handle that mission.”

Them: “Mom said we should rest today.”

Mark: “I SAID GO.”

Them: “Mom said no.”

It drives him crazy.

Nolan finds it hilarious. (We keep him alive ok?)

She’s a housewife, sure. But she’s still her.

She cooks, cleans, makes their home perfect. But she also hunts, rips creatures apart with her bare hands, and rearranges planets when she feels like it.

She nests. Constantly. She makes sure everything is safe, everything is warm, everything is exactly how she wants it.

She’s always touching Mark. Always.

If she’s not wrapped around him, something is wrong.

She still clings to him like she’s claiming him all over again. And honestly? She is.

Because he’s hers. Forever.

And she will never let anyone forget it.

#🐰.ask #🐇.alien reader #mark grayson x reader #yandere mark grayson

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sansaorgana · 1 year ago

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— FORBIDDEN FRUIT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Baron Vladimir Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — After your planet was conquered by The Harkonnens, you are sent to Giedi Prime as a war prize to marry one of The Baron's nephews. However, Baron Vladimir changes his plans at the sight of you and decides to take you as his wife. Feyd-Rautha does not give up easily, though.

REQUEST — (1) // (2)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's finally here! I got carried away, not gonna lie... Look at the word count! 🙈 I might have forgotten about some warnings, just keep in mind the fic is dark and twisted 😝 By creating the Reader's homeworld and its customs I was loosely inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures but of course her physical appearance is not being described. 🤍

WARNINGS — arranged/forced marriage, blood, death, Baron Harkonnen being an absolute and non-consensual creep, Feyd-Rautha being non-consensual as well in the beginning, SMUT, fingering, oral, breeding (artificial and natural), incest undertones (they're not related but he calls her Aunt and she calls him nephew) + Feyd's traumatic past briefly mentioned, Reader is a few years older than Feyd but he is aged up to 20

WORD COUNT — 13,560 (🤡)

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Your homeworld used to be a Paradise. The sky was always blue, the weather warm but not too hot due to the light breeze coming from the Ocean. Cypress trees, pistachio nuts, olive branches and fish were what Pairi Daêza was famous for in the past centuries. It was a small planet that remained unnoticed and neutral in most of the conflicts. The Imperial Family loved to spend their holidays on Pairi Daêza and import their goods in a form of a tribute.

That was history. And although you were born on this beautiful planet, in your teenage years the whole world crumbled down and you were exposed to the true reality of the war. When one of the Imperial geologists had found a huge spice deposit under your planet’s Ocean, the destructive war began.

Your parents tried their best to avoid the conflict. They offered the Emperor to dry a huge part of the Ocean to harvest spice from there. In fact, your father the Sultan saw an opportunity of getting wealth and influence in this situation. And that probably was his downfall. The Emperor wanted all the spice for himself.

But The Emperor was not the one to get his hands dirty. No, he hired the most fearsome warriors and assassins to teach your planet a lesson. The Harkonnens.

While the battles were taking place on the ground, their special machinery was drying out the Ocean and harvesting the spice hidden underneath the water surface. The whole planet began to die off due to the lack of water. The crops were evaporating in the heat, people were starving and their homes destroyed. The Harkonnens were kidnapping your citizens to be their slaves and your father and his army were too weak to protect them. The subjects of the Sultan started a rebellion with the help of The Harkonnens and after long years of the ongoing and destructive war, it was the final blow for your father’s weak reign.

You were an adult woman now, standing proudly with a veil covering nearly your whole face with only eyes being on display like all unmarried women of Pairi Daêza traditionally wore. Surrounded from all sides by The Harkonnen army in your father’s throne room, holding your mother’s hand. The dignified and beautiful Sultana with the last piece of jewellery she had refused to give away – a majestic headpiece made of gold and sparkling gemstones of all the possible colours. They reflected the dim light creeping inside through the windows of the ruined Pairi Daêza Palace where you had been born and resided for your whole life. And where you would die with only a few the most loyal guards protecting you.

The front doors opened loudly and a huge, beastly looking Harkonnen man stormed inside with a few of his identical soldiers. You had heard of him, he was the terror of Pairi Daêza in the past few years. The Beast Rabban himself. He dealt with your guards completely on his own, feasting on their deaths with a psychotic smirk. You swallowed thickly at the size of his hands; so big and strong they could break you in half. You hoped for a swift and quick death – as a Shehzadi of Pairi Daêza you had your privileges and you counted that the mercy of Beast Rabban would be one of them.

He started to approach you confidently, his black armour stained with the blood of your guards, contrasting with his sickly pale skin. Your father stepped out to cover you and your mother with his own body as if it would stop the Beast. Rabban froze at the sight and let out a contemptuous laughter that echoed through the throne room.

“Your reign is over, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he announced. “Pairi Daêza and its spice is under The Harkonnen rule.”

“Pairi Daêza no longer exists. You have destroyed my world and you want to rule over the ruins,” your father drawled through the gritted teeth.

“We do not care about your world. We care about the spice. But you… You will be remembered as the Sultan whose reign was the last. The death of your world will forever be attached to your name,” Rabban pointed out and reached for his blade. “Come to me and fight like a man, I shall give you the privilege of defending yourself. Do not cling to the skirts of your wife and daughter. By doing so, you put them in the path of my blade.”

“Don’t hurt them,” your father approached him, despite your hands trying to stop him. “The planet and the spice are yours. You can kill me but spare my family,” he pleaded.

“Your wife will be given to the new Governor of Pairi Daêza and he will do as he pleases with her. Your daughter is our prize I will take with me to Giedi Prime,” Rabban laid his terrifying eyes on you and you froze out of fear. You’d rather die than be taken away to The Harkonnens. He could only see your eyes but it was enough for him to smirk and lick his lips in a disgusting manner.

This scenario was worse than the death you had been expecting.

“You will die,” he told your father and pointed at one of the deceased guards for your father to take his sword and be able to defend himself in a fair fight.

But you knew already it would be a slaughter you did not wish to see.

“Don’t kill him! Don’t kill my father!” You screamed and took a step ahead. Your mother sobbed behind your back.

“(Y/N), don’t…” your father shook his head.

“I will offer myself to you willingly if you spare his life and let him govern this planet in The Harkonnen name. He will obey your orders and so will I,” you promised.

It was common for parents to sacrifice themselves for their children. No one would ever question such an act. Why couldn’t it go both ways? You loved your parents just as much as they loved you. Especially in the last years of the war, you had grown very close having basically no one else by your side.

If you were all to die together, it was not a bad ending. But if they tried to kill your father, send you away and give your mother away to a stranger… you could not let that happen.

“What makes you think we care about women giving themselves to us willingly, Shehzadi?” Rabban snorted at you but he approached you slowly with his blade held up. “You’re confident to offer so little for wanting so much in return,” the tip of his blade lifting up the hem of your face veil as you trembled out of fear.

“There is no need for bloodshed. My father will bend his knee and I will go with you, my Lord,” you choked out, trying to hide your obvious fear.

Rabban tilted his head and laughed at you. Then, in one swift move he cut the veil open and you gasped as the fabric fell down on the floor, leaving you exposed in front of him and his Harkonnen soldiers. It was one of the greatest humiliations for the Pairi Daêza woman for her to reveal her face in front of a man outside her close family before her wedding. It was her husband who was supposed to lift the veil off of her face on their wedding day and see her first before every other man would. To take the veil off of an unmarried woman in an aggressive manner like this was the greatest disrespect that back in the day men had been punished for by the law.

Embarrassed and humbled down, you stood still, trying to stare back at the Beast Rabban with your shoulders straight and your lips pursed out of anger and determination.

“You are not mine for the taking. I am to take you to Giedi Prime and my uncle shall decide what to do with you. Most likely he will want you to be my younger brother’s bride because it is him who will inherit the title one day,” he told you and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

You hated Rabban but he was the devil you knew from the stories and now personally as well. His brother was a new character in the story that you feared. What was he like?

“Why is that not you?” You asked him. “You have just conquered a planet for your uncle, have you not, my Lord?”

“It is not I who argues with my uncle’s decisions,” Rabban snapped at you but you saw in his cruel eyes that you had touched a sensitive subject with your question. “Will you bend your knee, Sultan (Y/L/N)?” He asked your father.

He was staring at you with a terrified expression on his face. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. But you knew he wouldn’t throw a fist now. He would bend his knee because your father was a weak man.

Deep down, despite your love for him, you hated him for his weakness. Most of your problems, most of the failures in this war were caused by this trait of his. You couldn’t blame him, though. The Sultans of Pairi Daêza had never been trained to fight or lead military campaigns. There had been no need for that in the past.

“I, Sultan (Y/F/N) of The House (Y/L/N), pledge my allegiance to The House Harkonnen,” your father kneeled and bowed his head down.

You watched Rabban closely. He could accept this offer but he could also simply behead your father.

“In the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, may your service be accepted, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he nodded his head. “We didn’t know who to make the Governor of this wasteland anyway,” he snorted. “I guess this is solved. However, you will be watched carefully,” he squinted his eyes at your father. “I will leave my guards here and you will be spied on every second of your pathetic life, Sultan.”

“Yes, my Lord,” your father nodded. “What about the rebellion you helped to start? The citizens of Pairi Daêza do not wish me to stay in this Palace anymore.”

“You have my army to command now. You can slay them,” Rabban shrugged his arms and your father stood up clumsily.

“You helped them to start the rebellion against me and now you’re giving me your army to slay the rebels?” He asked to make sure.

“All we care about is your spice,” Rabban’s voice sounded casual and then he turned around to look at you again. “And your daughter,” he added with a smirk before approaching you and grabbing you by your arm roughly. You squealed as he started to walk you out of the room.

“Let me go!” You protested.

“You’re already breaking our arrangement, woman. You promised to be obedient,” he barked at you.

“I want to say goodbye to my parents,” you told him.

“It’s not the last time you’re seeing them. That is, if they play nice and don’t start anything,” he threatened as he looked at your scared parents.

Your mother risked it, though, and she ran up to you. Her shaking hands grabbed yours as she sobbed. She couldn’t say much because of her state but she didn’t have to.

“I will be fine, mama. I will survive and you have to as well, do you hear me? Otherwise my sacrifice won’t matter,” you told her and she nodded her head, silently choking on her sobs.

“That’s enough,” Rabban threw you over his shoulder swiftly like you were a sack of potatoes and he took you out of the Palace – straight to the huge Harkonnen ship that was destined to go back on Giedi Prime.

You were a war prize.

You didn’t know much about Giedi Prime except for scary legends and myths. The heavy industrial landscape was something you had not been used to nor was their black sun that was making everything on the planet black-and-white when you were spending time outside. Not that you had spent lots of time there. You were transported from the ship to the huge black fortress and into the chambers with a few female servants waiting for you. They bathed you carefully and put you in long black robes with a veil mimicking the ones that were traditional for the Pairi Daêza unmarried women. Only your eyes were visible when you looked at yourself in the mirror, but barely – the veil was decorated with dangling silver chains. They were making you look even more mysterious and kind of dangerous but the whole outfit felt like a mockery of the traditional robes of your people.

The unmarried women of Pairi Daêza were hiding their faces but their dresses were often made of a few layers of sheer and colourful materials. Just because they were under a cover, didn’t mean they were not cheerful and full of life. The dresses would be often decorated with lace, flowers or embroidery. They were flowy and ethereal when the women walked down the streets and all the married women who no longer had to hide their faces were envious as they remembered their younger days. On Giedi Prime you looked as if you were in a deep state of mourning. But perhaps you were. Your planet was destroyed, your family humiliated. And no one knew what would happen to you.

You were taken by the guards and followed by the servants to a huge throne room of The Baron Harkonnen. You had heard of him from your father so you expected the worst but his unnaturally huge and floating form still made the blood in your veins run cold. He was enormous and repulsing; sickly. Kept alive by the machinery behind him and the undying will to rule forever.

He was accompanied by Rabban who smirked at you when you walked inside. There was another man standing there, too. He was young; strong and muscular but also slim. Tall and proud in the way he stood. His face was full of cruelty and mockery but you had to admit he was rather attractive… at least for a Harkonnen male. His lips were full, his eyes reminded you of a snake but they were decorated with a long set of eyelashes. You hoped he was the younger brother that Beast Rabban had mentioned before.

You stood in front of the stairs leading to The Baron’s throne and you bowed down, waiting for his reaction.

“Shehzadi (Y/L/N),” he greeted you in a harsh, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. “Finally I get to see you… Or not,” he added and you raised your head to lay your eyes on him. He was observing you carefully and so was the young man. “Take her veil off, Rabban, show me what you’ve brought here,” he snapped at his nephew and the Beast approached you. “She better be pretty enough for Feyd-Rautha if you decided to spare her father’s life for her,” The Baron teased him.

“Who would have thought that women were your weakness,” the man named Feyd hissed at his brother and you got startled by the sound of his voice. It was identical to The Baron’s in a twisted and uncomfortable way that formed a knot in your stomach.

You felt oddly bad for the Beast Rabban. He was the one to conquer your planet and he was the one to take you. Yet, you were a prize that he had won not for himself but for his spoiled younger brother. You couldn’t quite understand the dynamic of this family yet.

He stood next to you and grabbed the fabric of your veil in his fist in his usual brutal manner. By the pace of his breath, you could hear that he was as nervous as you were. If The Baron would not like you, he would be punished for going soft on your father.

Rabban’s hand hesitated before tearing the veil off of your face. It caught his younger brother’s attention. He hissed and walked up to you with a short knife in his hands that he had been playing with as if out of boredom. He smirked at you and revealed black teeth that made you flinch at the sight. Your reaction only excited him.

“How long do I have to wait, brother?” He asked as he cut the veil open, impatiently. Rabban took a step back and allowed his brother to take a better look at you. The Baron tried to peek in but Feyd was standing right in front of you and covering your face completely from his uncle’s sight.

The young man hummed to himself and tilted his head both sides. He raised his hand up and grabbed your chin to squeeze it gently.

“How old is she?” He asked his brother as if you could not speak.

“Shehzadi (Y/N) is twenty years old like you are,” Rabban tried to recommend your virtues the best he could, like he was a slave seller.

“Five and twenty,” you corrected him confidently, not feeling any shame about your age. Rabban took a sharp breath in as Feyd gave him a scolding look.

“A bit old, isn’t it?” The Baron’s voice interrupted them.

Feyd looked you up and down with so much fire in his eyes that you started to feel your cheeks heating up. You had never been looked at this way not only because of the custom of covering your face but also because it was not a way that men on Pairi Daêza would court women in.

“I’ll take her,” Feyd shrugged his arms as he announced to his uncle. He turned around to look at him and you sighed out of relief. So did Rabban.

“Move aside, Feyd,” The Baron barked at his nephew, impatiently. “It is I who decide,” he added and Feyd took a step to the left, revealing your form to his uncle. You had both of the brothers standing on both sides and their hideous uncle looming over a few steps ahead of you.

In complete silence he was watching you for a long while, puffing on his pipe. Finally, he beckoned you over to come closer. You gathered the fabric of your skirt in your hands and took a few steps ahead with your heart pounding in your chest.

“I shall take her,” he stated as the whole room went dead silent.

“What are you talking about?!” Feyd protested and you chewed on the insides of your cheeks, trying not to burst into tears. “She is mine for the taking!”

The Baron was a disgusting creature but you were aware that being his wife would give you more power and influence than marrying any of his nephews. It would protect your family better, too.

And every power came with a sacrifice.

Still, your dignity wanted to join Feyd-Rautha’s tantrum. You had been expecting to be given in marriage to a young and healthy warrior. Not an old and sickly piece of greasy meat in front of you.

“Shut up, boy!” The Baron yelled at Feyd and you flinched. “Don’t startle, my Shehzadi,” he cooed to you in a malicious whisper. “As you can see, none of my nephews are worthy of you nor my throne one day. You shall give me an heir,” he told you and you nodded, obediently. Fighting him had no purpose.

Feyd was furious. You heard him walking out of the room angrily and slamming the door behind him.

“You have just made an enemy, my Shehzadi,” The Baron reached his swollen pale hand with the green and blue veins popping out. You gently took it and nearly gagged at the feeling of it.

“Me, my Lord?” You tried to bat your eyelashes at him. Your voice shivered out of fear and he smirked at you.

“Feyd-Rautha will no longer be the Na-Baron when our son is born. He will do everything to get rid of you and the child. You shall be careful, sweet Shehzadi,” he warned you. “I have my ways of keeping him obedient. When he’s not showing you proper respect, you will tell me, yes?”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” you nodded.

“Good,” he squeezed our hand gently and you felt your stomach turning. “Go, prepare for the wedding,” he let go of you and raised his finger to touch your cheek. It was getting difficult to hide your repulsion but on the other hand it was oddly satisfying to know that you were chosen by The Baron himself.

You bowed down and walked out of the room with the guards and servants. They all were staring at you with widened eyes, as shocked with the outcome of this day as you were.

You hadn’t seen The Baron for the past few weeks of the preparations for the wedding. In fact, you hadn't seen anyone. You had been kept a prisoner in one part of the fortress but you did not mind that at all because you had lots of servants and your chambers did not lack any luxury. The only thing you missed was nature – the greenery, the sound of birds, the feeling of the sun on your skin, the light breeze of the Ocean. But there was no way of coming back to it. Pairi Daêza had none of it anymore.

Spoiled as a child, you were harshened in your teenage years by the war taking place in your homeland. Despite your father’s weakness flowing in your blood, you had learnt how to adapt and survive. You would survive just well on Giedi Prime, you decided.

The only thing you dreaded about your marriage was the physical aspect of the union. However, you had been informed by the medic visiting you every morning about the nature of your future duties.

“These injections are supposed to prepare your body for carrying a son,” he told you after sticking a syringe with an odd liquid into your vein. “After the wedding you will be bred to carry The Baron’s heir, my Lady.”

“Bred?” You swallowed thickly.

“I will insert the seed during a swift and painless procedure, my Lady,” he assured you.

“So… I will not be…” You didn’t know how to say it without offending The Baron.

The medic knew, though. He looked up into your eyes as your face was covered with the black veil. The Baron had liked your homeworld’s tradition and allowed you to cover your face until the wedding.

“The Baron’s health does not allow such activities,” he informed you and you sighed out of relief. “Which does not mean he will not demand some… other duties.”

You nodded your head at him. Some other duties, whatever they meant, you could survive. It was the haunting image of him hovering over you or taking you from behind that was keeping you sleepless recently. You had come to Giedi Prime completely innocent in that subject but you made your Harkonnen servants tell you all about it. They were experienced, especially the ones who had been called late at night to Feyd-Rautha’s chambers. The young na-baron apparently liked sex a lot. The more you were finding out about him and his nature, the more glad you were that it was his uncle you were marrying. At least he was not so young; not so full of adrenaline and testosterone as his nephew.

Giedi Prime had not had a Baroness in a long time. The ceremony was about to be the grandest you had ever experienced. The leaders of the great houses had been invited – your parents amongst them. Even The Emperor himself had sent an envoy to take part in the event in his name. You had never expected to hold such importance in the Galaxy. After all, you were only a Shehzadi of a small and unimportant Pairi Daêza. The spice deposit had truly changed everything.

Your servant women worked on your huge wedding dress. It was black, too, of course. Everything was black. But there was some meaning behind it, in fact, since the wedding was an occasion to mourn your maidenhood and your previous life. The veil covering your face was decorated and attached to the upper part of your bodice, so when your face would be revealed and the veil taken off, your dress would stop being so modest and show off your breasts squeezed by a corset. You didn’t feel comfortable with that idea. Women on Pairi Daêza were not known for revealing their physical virtues in such a way. But Harkonnen women were their husbands’ prizes and trophies. You wanted to make The Baron proud because it would keep him happy. And keeping him happy meant the safety of you and your family. You didn’t want to play many games. You just wanted to survive.

You actually wanted to give him a son. Because giving him a son would seal your fate as The Baroness. Your position would be untouchable and that awful Feyd-Rautha could throw tantrums about it but it would be your son who would inherit the title of The Baron.

You were allowed to see your parents before the ceremony because they were supposed to leave early in the morning on the next day and in the evening there would be no occasion to be left alone with them like you were now. Alone in a room with your mother and father whose faces looked worried and exhausted. Their clothes were different than you remembered. Less colourful as if they were grieving, too.

“Are you alright?” Your mother asked you. She approached you and tried to lift the veil off but it refused to move.

“It is attached to the dress. I am fine,” you assured her. “Do not worry, my face is not bruised. You will see when he takes it off,” you nodded.

“It is an honour for you to marry The Baron himself,” your father smiled at you gently. “A great honour that he has liked you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” your mother scolded him. “It is awful, awful news. You know what he’s like. He’s destroyed our planet!”

“She can handle that for all the power she’s going to have now,” he shrugged his arms.

“How easy it is to say for a man,” your mother sighed. “You owe her your life.”

“I do and I am grateful,” your father nodded his head at you.

“And yet you demand more,” you whispered to him. He froze. “You demand of me to keep The Baron happy so he doesn’t get rid of you. But that is your part of the deal. You shall obey him and play nice as you promised. As long as you do that, there is no threat and my protection is not required.”

“If you think this way, why are you here, all dressed up to get married?” He raised his eyebrow.

“For mother,” you held her hands gently, “because you will not be able to protect her like me,” you added sternly.

Your father looked away, frustrated. He wanted to snap at you but he could not. Not when you were The Baron’s bride. You were no longer his daughter but almost another man’s wife. And the man was too powerful to disrespect.

The ownership of women. Once your father’s, then your husband’s. Freedom would come only in the case of a man’s death. And yet, men wondered why so many women were so angry and bloodthirsty.

“Time’s up,” one of the guards entered the room harshly. “Shehzadi (Y/N) is asked to attend the ceremony,” he announced and nodded at you. You nodded back and squeezed your mother’s hands for the last time before following the guard into the dark and cold corridor of the fortress, trying to keep your veiled head high.

Out of the people gathered for the ceremony, one pair of eyes was locked on you the most intensely. The dark eyes of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen were observing your every move, every gesture, every breath and every word. You felt suffocated by his gaze. It was full of fire like the first time he had seen you but also full of hatred and contempt. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to claim you or kill you. Perhaps both answers were true. You wouldn’t be surprised after hearing all the stories about him.

You feared him the most out of all The Harkonnens. Beast Rabban was the devil you knew and you were his weakness because you were the prize he had conquered himself. The Baron was terrifying and dangerous but he was rather calm and he treated you like a pet so as long as you were quiet and obedient, he did not take pleasure in tormenting you. Feyd-Rautha was different. He was psychotic and your wedding to his uncle was making him lose the greatest deal – his inheritance.

The worst part of the wedding ceremony was the kiss. Not that The Baron had been particularly passionate about it but something about his lips touching yours – even though briefly – was making your insides twist. Perhaps being married to him wouldn’t be as easy to survive as you had been hoping.

When The Wedding Games had begun, Feyd-Rautha joined them eagerly with all the fierceness a warrior could possess. It was an old and dreadful tradition full of blood and violence, a display of power and murderous Harkonnen nature. The men, usually gladiators, were fighting for life and death. Only one could remain and become the winner who would be forever remembered. When his nephew joined the fight, your new husband didn’t look very pleased and he followed every movement of his boy carefully, keeping his eye on the guard, too. He was scared of losing his heir after all.

You watched Feyd-Rautha fight as well. His moves were swift and confident. It was bringing him joy to both hurt and be hurt. He was playful in combat – smirking, winking, occasionally looking back to make sure you were watching. And whenever he was the one to take the blow, he would let out a laugh and hiss in pleasure. He was an odd, scary creature because he had no fear of any sort of pain. Not even death most likely.

Eventually, he killed the last opponent right in front of your eyes, wanting for you to flinch, you suspected. You did not give him such satisfaction. All the years of the war on your planet had made you immune to the sight of such violence and death.

He let out a triumphant yell and raised the bloody knife before bowing down and reaching his hands out with the blade towards you. You stood up and accepted his offering as you had been taught by your servants the past few weeks during your preparations.

“Thy display of power and bravery has been noticed, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you told him the words you had learnt by heart.

“For my Baroness I will shed the blood of my enemies,” he looked up intensely at you and you swallowed thickly. You hated when he was staring like this. You only nodded and turned around to hand the bloody blade to one of the guards who would secure it. The blade would later be on display in the Memory Room.

You sat back down and forced a small meal upon yourself. In the meantime, your husband had already left the party. Not that you minded.

Feyd and Rabban were sitting nearby. Both were staring at you but the older one actually looked as if he was sorry for you. He hadn’t spoken a word to you ever since his uncle had decided to be the one to marry you. It was nearly funny how back on Pairi Daêza everyone feared the Beast Rabban but here on Giedi Prime he was the least important pawn of the game.

Around midnight, one of The Baron’s servants leaned in to whisper into your ear to inform you that your husband had been waiting for you in his chambers. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head before standing up and leaving the dining room as fast as possible.

In the dark corridor you slowed down, though, not wanting to walk too fast and approach the dreaded room too soon. The guards were not following you but you knew the way, you had been taught it by your servants even though your chambers were in a different part of the fortress. Now, as The Baroness, you would get the new ones – even more splendid and luxurious. But you had been told you would not share them with your husband which was a great comfort.

Halfway there you heard footsteps behind you and you angered. Whatever humiliation was there to come, you did not want any witnesses. The corridor was dark and empty and yet some guard decided to follow you. You turned around furiously, ready to scold him. But it was no guard. It was Feyd-Rautha.

He leaned on the wall with a smirk and squinted his eyes at you.

“What do you want?” You asked him and clenched your jaw.

“Like a sheep for slaughter,” he snorted at you.

“That is none of your business, I believe,” you straightened yourself and raised your chin up.

He didn’t like your remark as he moved away from the wall and approached you quickly. In no time you felt his face looming over yours, mere inches away.

“I know what he’s going to do to you,” he whispered as you tried to remain cool but his words made you terrified. There was an odd sparkle in his eye, like he was enjoying your torment. He probably was.

“Fuck me?” You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you.

“Well, well, well, look at how dirty your mouth can be, Shehzadi,” Feyd-Rautha grabbed your cheeks to squeeze them and your eyes widened at his insolence.

“To you, I’m The Baroness,” you mumbled out.

“Sure you are, little snake. How else should I call you? An aunt?” He teased. “I shall,” he added. “No, he’s not going to fuck you. But he’s going to touch you and this reeking, slimy feeling won’t ever leave your skin. You will feel him always,” he moved even closer to you. You wondered how he could know such things. Then you felt how hard he was underneath his leather pants. You were scared he would hurt you now, which would make your husband furious and toss you aside, surely.

“Sounds like you’d like to watch,” you drawled, regretting it instantly. He took a sharp breath in and pushed you against the wall, still holding your cheeks but now you were trapped between his body and the cold marble.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he warned you. It was surprising there were things he was finding gross. He didn’t look like the type. “You’ve no idea what’s waiting for you, aunt,” he hissed.

“Aw, you’re worried?” You cooed and he let go of your cheeks angrily. He remained close to you, though. You felt his hot breath on your face. He smelled like blood and leather.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your waist. Before you could stop him, he was pulling up all the layers of your dress, desperately trying to get the access between your legs. You grabbed his wrists, trying to stop him quietly.

“No, no, no, please, no,” you whispered in a panic. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, aunt. He’s going to do it,” Feyd snorted at your words and froze when all the layers of your dress that had been on the way were finally moved aside. A cold shiver went down your legs at the feeling of your exposed thighs. Feyd cupped your womanhood covered with black silky underwear. You gasped at the feeling as your eyes widened when you looked at his face. His lips curled into a smirk as you shook your head.

“Relax, Baroness, I’ll ease you for him,” he told you as his fingers hooked on the edge of your underwear. You felt his cold fingertips brushing your pussy softly and a set of shivers went down your spine at that sensation.

You didn’t know how to feel about it. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were getting dizzy. Your mind wanted him to stop but your body did not. Despite the lack of experience, you knew that The Baron would not make you feel the same way as his young nephew would.

“I won’t fuck you,” he let out a raspy whisper, “he would kill us both for that.”

“He wouldn’t know,” you told him and Feyd tilted his head at you. “I’ve been examined by the medic this morning to prove my innocence. I doubt he will examine me now again.”

“Believe me, he would know,” Feyd let out a laugh as he moved your underwear aside and exposed your womanhood. It was too dark for you to feel ashamed of it but it still felt incredibly wrong. Yet, you didn’t ask him to stop. Not that it would change anything.

He raised his hand up to his full lips and licked them while staring deep into your widened eyes. Then he put his hand between your legs again and began to touch you in your most intimate place. You sighed at the feeling of his wet and cold fingers trying to get between your folds.

“Open your legs further,” he ordered and your body obeyed by moving the legs more apart before your mind could take over and make a responsible decision to run away. Not that you could run away because with his free hand he grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the wall above your head.

Once he got a better access to your pussy, Feyd focused on massaging your sweet spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, occasionally dipping his finger carefully inside of you to gather some of your wetness. You moaned softly and dug your fingernails into his bicep, feeling a close release. He was smirking at how fast he could make you reach your high but you didn’t care. You hated him but his fingers were skilled, making you stand on your toes as the muscles of your abdomen tensed, desperately wanting more friction.

“I’m gonna…” You gasped and that was when he took his hand away, fixed your underwear and took a step back, letting the folds of your dress fall down to their place. It took you a moment to collect yourself and realise that he had left you without a release but with a deep and urgent need. “What was that?” You asked.

“Now it won’t hurt when my uncle does the same to you, aunt. Maybe you’ll even cum with his fingers inside you as you remember my fingers on your cunt,” Feyd chuckled contemptuously and licked his fingers clean as you watched with terror in your eyes. “Sweet. Like I’ve imagined a cunt from Paradise to be,” he commented and turned around to walk back to the party, leaving you breathless and dizzy with an ache between your legs.

For a while you forgot where to go. You kept taking wrong turns before finally approaching the doors leading to The Baron’s chambers. At your state you weren’t even scared anymore. Feyd-Rautha had eased your mind indeed and reduced your body functions to one primal need.

You pushed the door open softly and entered your husband’s chambers. They were nearly empty and very cold. In the middle of it, there was a big bathtub full of a black substance. He was bathing in it and puffing on his pipe as he squinted his eyes at you.

“What took you so long, Baroness?” He asked and you cleared your throat, trying not to sound too shook up. The sight of him in that bathtub made your desire much lesser, though. Even the memory of Feyd-Rautha’s cold fingertips brushing your clit lightly and teasing you with pleasure could not make you feel the same excitement again.

“I’m sorry. I got lost,” you answered, which had been only half a lie.

“Don’t worry, Baroness, you will soon remember the way,” he wasn’t angry and he beckoned you over with a move of his wrist.

You approached him obediently although your limbs were getting numb. You were left completely alone with him and you had no idea what he would want now from you. As your husband he could demand anything and you’d have to follow.

“Undress yourself,” his voice was softer than when he would address his nephews but it was still an order as he watched carefully with squinted eyes.

You nodded shyly at his words and began to clumsily take your gown off. It was a complicated piece of fashion and you did not have any servants to assist you. However, your husband was not rushing you, he simply watched and he was visibly content.

When you were naked, you covered yourself with your hands as you stood in front of him. He looked up from his bathtub and puffed on his pipe with a smirk.

“No, no, don’t hide,” he shook his head. “Come, join me,” he invited you in and you swallowed thickly at the black slime he had been bathing in. You doubted it was harmful but you didn’t want to sit in the same substance as him. “Join me,” he repeated, more sternly this time and you bit on your lower lip as you nodded and entered the bathtub.

Your body was shaking but the odd liquid was nicely warm and relaxing. The feeling of it helped you ease a bit. You sat as far away as possible from him.

“Come closer, Baroness. You see, I’m old now and not of the best health. I sadly cannot perform my marital duties and satisfy you like a husband would,” he pretended to feel sorry for you. “But I want to play with you a little and admire my new wife,” he reached out his hand and you took a deep breath in before holding it and letting him pull you closer. “Do you know why I took you for myself?” He whispered and you shook your head. “Because he wanted you so much.”

When you left The Baron’s chambers, there were two scared female servants waiting already behind the doors. At the sight of you leaving in a hurry, they entered – most likely to finish what you had started. You hurried to the rooms that were supposed to be yours now. They were empty since your own servants would come in the morning.

You had been barely dressed because you wanted to leave his room as fast as possible. This time taking your dress off took you a few seconds and you jumped into the bathtub in the bathroom and filled it with warm water. With a sponge laying on the counter you started to scrub your body harshly, causing the skin to bleed in a few places. You wanted to get the black slime off of you and – most importantly – your husband’s touch.

Feyd had been right. What his uncle had done to you was not the worst – he had been touching and teasing, sniffing your scent and caressing your skin as he had whispered about the beauty of youth and innocence. But the fact that it had been him doing so, it made it the most disgusting thing you had ever experienced. You gagged at the very memory of it and now, after your wedding night, you no longer felt comfortable with the idea of being bred with his son even if it would be an artificial conception.

You started to sob uncontrollably. You hated The Harkonnens. They had destroyed your planet and your childhood. Now they destroyed your innocence and womanhood. You would never get free of them.

But death was not an option. It would be an easy way out. You had to be strong.

The medic’s procedure had truly been quick and painless but you felt disgusting leaving the medical wing of the fortress knowing that The Baron’s seed might be already growing in you. To make it worse, on your way back to your chambers, you spotted Feyd-Rautha coming back from the training yards. He smirked at the sight of you as you froze, still remembering the last night’s blasphemous act of intimacy that he had performed.

“Aunt,” he greeted you with a nod of his head.

“Nephew,” you answered in a similar manner as you looked him up and down.

Sweaty from the combat and still wielding a blade, he looked incredibly magnetic at that moment. His youthful and fearless energy was unfortunately drawing you in. The way he was staring at you made you remember how good his fingers had felt on your pussy and it brought the heat up to your cheeks. You wished he would stay away from you because his very presence was a torment.

“How was it?” He leaned in when he spoke to you, his eyes carefully watching your figure. You did not give him an answer. “Did you cum?”

“You’re an insolent brat, Feyd-Rautha,” you told him sternly and he straightened himself. You spoiled his fun by not being scared nor disgusted. “I want you to stay away from me since I might already be carrying your uncle’s true heir,” you added.

The playfulness of his eyes turned into anger very quickly. He pointed at your abdomen with his blade and you flinched. The guards standing a few steps behind you, hurried to your side immediately.

“You will soon realise, aunt,” Feyd drawled, “that he is your enemy – not me. He will destroy you like he destroys everything he ever lays his hands on.”

“Like he destroyed you?” You raised your eyebrow curiously and he lowered the blade. His jaw clenched but there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes at that moment, which surprised you. You didn’t expect a man like him to ever feel hurt.

Feyd-Rautha did not reply to that. He walked away without a word, followed by your guards’ eyes.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” One of them asked you and you nodded. “Shall we tell The Baron about the incident?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “His nephew’s antics must be tempered.”

Six months had passed since your wedding day and you still were not carrying The Baron’s heir. Your husband was growing impatient and the only thing stopping him from getting angry at you was the medic’s declaration that it had not been your fault but the seed’s quality was weak due to your husband’s age and condition. Even enhanced artificially with the Harkonnen science, it could not settle well in your womb. At this point you were so drugged with their injections to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if a simple touch of any other man than your husband would put a son in you. How ironic.

You had no idea what The Baron had done to Feyd-Rautha but after the corridor’s incident the young man had been avoiding you. He had been watching you carefully from afar with eyes full of hatred like an ominous shadow following you behind wherever you would go. But he would not approach you nor talk to you unless he had to in an official situation. He would always address you with respect as The Baroness or Aunt. You had noticed that it brought him a twisted pleasure to call you by that name.

Your husband hadn’t been spending much more time with you either. He would be next to you during the official events and he would ask you to join him in his chambers about once or twice a week but other than that you had been spending your days alone with nobody but your female servants and male guards, occasionally with the medic. It was a lonely life but at least you weren’t exposed too much to the dreadful Harkonnens… except for the nights you were expected to perform some sort of marital duties.

No amount of time had made you used to The Baron’s touch. You would flinch every time he caressed your body or admired it while whispering the filthiest things. But after the first month your body had developed a defence mechanism of dissociation during those acts.

Technically speaking, though, after six months of being The Baroness Harkonnen, you remained a virgin. The marriage had not been consummated properly so The Baron could divorce you without consequences any day. Giving him a son was the only thing that would legitimise your union. And as much as you dreaded his spawn growing inside of you, you wanted to secure your position. The frustration of not getting pregnant had brought you to tears many times before.

It did now as well. An hour after finding out that the last week’s procedure had failed and the seed had not settled in your womb. The medic had been both sorry for you and himself because he had known that The Baron’s rage would mostly be aimed at him for not doing enough. Soon, though, you were sure, it would reach you as well.

Your chambers were being cleaned at the moment and you wanted to be alone so you wandered to a different part of the fortress and hid in one of the empty study rooms. You kicked your shoes off and sat on a black leather armchair by the wall as you sobbed into your hands, curling up with your feet up on the seat. You felt so small and unimportant at that moment; you missed home and you missed your mother’s embrace. You missed any sort of affection.

Focused on self-pity you did not hear the doors opening. You only startled at the sound of them closing loudly and you froze at the sight of Feyd-Rautha who had just entered the study room. At first, he stiffened seeing you as well.

“What are you doing here, aunt?” He asked, carefully.

“It is none of your business, go away,” you ordered, trying for your voice not to break and reveal your crying state.

“You cannot command that,” he snorted at you.

“I am your Baroness. I can and I will,” you sniffled your tears back and you hugged yourself tighter as if you wanted to protect yourself from him.

Feyd ignored your words, though. He approached you confidently and smirked after realising what you had been doing.

“Yes, feast on the sight of me crying,” you snapped. “What a pleasure it must be for you. Let me please you further, dear nephew. I am still not expecting an heir that would take your place. Happy now?” Your voice trembled.

“Look at you, you’re glowing,” he crouched down to be on your level as he whispered in an oddly seductive way. You furrowed your brows at his words and he reached his hand out to brush your cheek stained with tears. “They’ve injected so many hormones into you, Baroness, you’re practically begging to be fucked. You’ve no idea what the smell of you does to men around you…” He brought his finger to his mouth and licked the tip softly. “The taste… Even your tears are an aphrodisiac,” he looked up at you and you swallowed thickly. It was making you uncomfortable but for the first time in a long time you felt seen. “What a torment it must be. Do you touch yourself, aunt?” He asked and the insolent question snapped you back to reality.

“I’ve no idea how he punishes you but you’re asking to be punished again,” you warned him.

“I can show you how he punishes me,” Feyd did not wait for your answer as he took his black shirt off, revealing his pale and strong chest. His hard muscles were simply beautiful, you had to admit it. But when he turned around to show you his back, he revealed dozens of thin scars scattered all over. Some were white and bumpy, visibly old. But some were more fresh and still reddened. You hissed at the sight and he turned his head around to look at your face.

“I’m sorry, I did not know…” You admitted and reached your hand out to touch some of them gently. You let your finger follow the lines and he smirked.

“Don’t be sorry, aunt. I enjoy the whipping,” he grabbed your wrist and turned his body in your direction again.

“It is hard to believe, Feyd-Rautha,” you admitted. “I thought his punishment was based on threats.”

“His methods are more sophisticated,” Feyd sneered. “Now, I’ve revealed myself to you, Baroness. Will you reveal yourself to me?” He asked and you furrowed your brow. “Do you touch yourself?” He repeated the question that caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Sometimes,” you answered. “I start but I never finish because somewhere in the middle I get haunted by the visions of his hands touching me and they make me sick,” you whispered your secret.

“Poor aunt, you must be so tense,” Feyd cooed to you and let go of your wrist. “So ready and eager to welcome a child in her womb and yet so unsatisfied.”

You hated to admit that he was right. The amount of hormones that had been injected made your breasts and womanhood sensitive, a single brush of your servant’s hand during the bathtime was enough to fill you with desire. Most of the time you were walking around with an itch deep between your legs, a heavy burden that could not be removed by any means.

Now, Feyd-Rautha being so close to you and talking to you in such a manner was not helping. In fact, it was making your condition worse.

“What do you care?” You asked. “I thought you don’t want me to carry him a son. If he tossed me aside or even killed me, it would be your victory,” you pointed out.

“My greatest victory would be humiliating him by putting my son in your womb,” Feyd watched your reaction carefully but you didn’t even flinch at the sound of that.

He was young and so full of life. You were sure he’d succeed during the first try. It would secure your position and keep The Baron Happy.

“What if he finds out? He’d kill us both,” you bit on your lower lip.

“And you think I would allow that?” He snorted at you, revealing his black teeth. You were so shook up that in this state you even found them attractive. The fact they were so black, so different, so extraordinary, symbolising his brutality. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted his toxic saliva to poison your innocence. You wanted to be trapped under him as he ravages you.

He had to notice the shift of your gaze, the way you face changed its expression. He smirked triumphantly, already knowing that you craved him.

“The medic… He will see I was deflowered,” your last hesitation made you speak up your concerns.

“The medic?” Feyd-Rautha chuckled contemptuously. “The same one who is working for me? The same one who is making sure that my uncle’s seed is not succeeding?”

“Wh-what?” You choked out but he only smirked as he shushed you.

“Don’t forget you were supposed to be mine, little snake. I do not give up easily,” he admitted and with one rapid movement of his strong hands he pushed your legs apart as your thin silky dress pulled up, revealing you to him. “Let’s give you a quick release before I properly breed you. You must be in such pain and torment,” he cooed.

Your eyes widened at his actions but you did not protest. Your limbs were getting numb out of the overwhelming desire and feeling his breath on your pussy was nearly enough to make you cum on spot.

Feyd dropped to his knees and leaned in even closer, biting the soft flesh of your thighs gently with his black teeth and leaving trails of saliva. You felt your womanhood pulsating, begging for his attention. He had to notice the twitching muscles underneath your underwear as well as he chuckled and took it off of you greedily. He froze for a moment with his eyes fixed on his prize and he slowly licked his lips.

“So swollen and eager. The smell is enough to put only one thought in my head,” he admitted. “Make you swell with my seed. Come here,” he crooned in his coarse voice that sent shivers down your spine as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the armchair’s seat. He threw your feet over his muscular shoulders and opened his mouth to stick out his long and slim tongue to show it off for you as you took a deep and shaky breath in.

Feyd leaned in and buried his face between your wet folds that had been anticipating any sort of release for weeks now. You gasped loudly at the sensation of the tip of his tongue tickling your sensitive sweet spot. His mouth was so skilled that he did not require the assistance of his hands as he placed them flat on your thighs to keep steady. He would gather your wetness with his tongue and then dip it all inside of you, making your back arch and hips rise slightly for more friction. There were times when his whole face was buried deep into you but he did not even flinch from the lack of air as he was devouring you, licking you completely clean like a starving dog and then focusing again on your swollen clit. Whenever he teased it, you were sure you’d cum now but then he would move his tongue away over and over, keeping you on the edge.

Your gasps and soft moans filled the room. You were trying to hold yourself back a little, ashamed of being so displayed for him but on the other hand it was him kneeling down to lick your pussy like a servant. It was you who was in control and the thought of that alone was enough to turn you on even more.

Your hands had been squeezing the armchair’s leather fabric but you dared to place them on the back of Feyd’s bald head and he did not protest. In fact, he moaned at the feeling as a pleasurable vibration went down your body. Your toes curled when you pushed his face even deeper and you felt the pressure of his nose on your clit when he was fucking you with his long tongue.

The overwhelming desire stripped you out of shame as you began to move his head up and down, rubbing your pussy all over his face while your moans grew higher and louder. Fuck it, you thought, you deserved it. After months of such a sad and awful marriage, being The Baron’s trophy wife, unsatisfied and yet violated by his repulsing touch, you deserved to cum on his handsome nephew’s face. It was the least Feyd-Rautha could do to make it up for you.

With a loud moan, shaky breath and trembling legs you finally reached your peak. Although the movements of your hips came to a halt and your hands stopped pushing his face, he was relentlessly sucking on your clit throughout your high, until you begged him to stop and he hesitantly let go of your glistening pussy with your sticky juices vulgarly dripping down his chin as you looked down at him with hazy eyes.

“I could feast on you for days, Baroness, you’re as sweet as a ripe fruit from your homeworld,” Feyd did not bother with wiping his face. He took your limp feet and calves from his shoulders and threw them back on the floor before placing one last kiss upon your wet mound as your pussy twitched uncontrollably in an aftershock.

You didn’t know what to say. You could see the hunger in him, he expected more and you wanted it, too. You wanted to feel his cock inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you like The Baron could never do.

“Claim me, Feyd-Rautha,” you ordered in a weak voice. “I want to remember with satisfaction each time he asks for me that it is you who have claimed me and fucked me. Put your son in me and smile every time you see me walking swollen with your seed as you know that it is yours and not his. If you’re a good boy now, I might reward you and let you feast on my fruit every night in my chambers,” you promised, like it would bring him more pleasure than you, which was not true at all. You craved it as much as him, if not more.

Your words elicited even greater hunger inside of him as he grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down on the cold marble floor. The coolness of the stone brought some relief to your feverish body, your dress was still pulled up and you watched Feyd positioning himself above you as you bit on your lower lip and realised he would truly claim you now, on the floor of an empty room in secret. There was something barbaric about it and the fact you were an innocent lady from a planet known as Paradise who would be taken by such a brute warrior was making you go dizzy. You didn’t even fear the pain that would come with it because you wanted it – you wanted him to stretch you out and fill you.

When such thoughts were invading your mind and exciting you all over again, Feyd got his cock out of his leather pants and stroked it at the sight of you waiting for him with your legs open. With his free hand he gathered the wetness of your pussy and coated his length with it before hovering over you with his face inches away from yours.

“It’s going to hurt, my Lady,” he warned you with a smirk, there was absolutely no worry in his voice.

“I want you to hurt me,” you nodded and grabbed his biceps, ready to dig your nails in them as he’d slide inside.

Your spent and overstimulated pussy was relaxed enough to welcome him but the burning sensation made your back arch and your eyes roll, you were sure your fingernails made his shoulders bleed but you did not care. The pain was overwhelming and mixed with pleasure, you felt as full as you could and yet he still had more and more to give you, sliding it inside slowly, inch by inch, with a raspy moan and his forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re so tight,” Feyd breathed out, “open your eyes,” he commanded and your eyes fluttered open to stare into his cold and intense gaze. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up with my son,” he added and you nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak but already getting used to his size as if your pussy was made for his cock.

Once you nodded, he started rutting into you with all his force without any warning. You dug your fingernails even deeper into his flesh and moaned out of pleasure as the spasms of pain travelled through your body. His moves were fast and rough, relentless; nearly automatic like he was a machine and not a human. With each stroke he was hitting a spot inside of you that was making you gasp and writhe underneath him, leaving you a drooling and whimpering mess. Feyd used one of his hands to grab your cheeks and squeeze them gently to shut you up before joining his lips with yours in a sloppy and possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the taste – it was sweet indeed from all the hormones you had been injected with. It was no wonder he got addicted already, you would get, too. In fact, you explored his mouth with the tip of your tongue in order to clean it off of your juices completely, greedily licking them away from him as you were letting out muffled moans into his mouth.

His hips were brutal and his mouth was aggressive but you wanted nothing else but this. Hearing the stories about his sexual appetite you had been scared but now you wanted to laugh at your old self. It was nothing to fear, it was something to anticipate.

The fact that the act was forbidden, that he was your husband’s young nephew and a rival of some sort, was making it even better. You were welcoming each of his rough thrusts with eagerness, hoping it would fill your already swollen womb. Your whole body was ready to take the seed and as much as you dreaded the idea of carrying your husband’s son under your heart, you found the idea of carrying Feyd-Rautha’s heir much more appealing. If he would be like his biological father, he’d be handsome and fearsome, psychotic and depraved. You’d see your lover in him – not your husband – and it was giving you satisfaction.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your breasts as he tore the fabric of your dress open to expose them for himself to squeeze and pull on your hard nipples. You broke the kiss and cupped his face to push it down to your neck where you needed his open-mouthed sloppy kisses and soft bites of his black teeth. He obeyed and then he moved his head even lower to give the same treatment to your breasts, occasionally accompanying your moans with his low grunts.

You could feel that your second peak was coming close and you wanted to make him finish, too, so you spoke up in a shaky, hazy voice.

“Fill me up, give me a son,” you pleaded in a raspy whisper. “I want it so bad, I want to swell with your baby.”

Feyd moved his head up once again and joined your lips in another kiss – this time it was messy with teeth clashing and uncontrollable moans as the movement of his hips became less steady. In a few short spasmodic thrusts he spilled his thick black cum inside of your pussy. The feeling of his hard cock filling you deep inside straight into your womb was enough to bring you to your second peak as well.

Once he was definitely finished, he broke the kiss between you two and moved up to slide out of you and hide his cock back into his pants. You whined at the empty feeling and watched him put his shirt back on while breathing heavily, still laying on the floor, exposed with your dress torn up and your hair a mess. Feeling like a whore and absolutely loving it.

“You will go to the medic tomorrow and tell him that he had to be mistaken and the seed had made its way inside of you,” he informed you oh-so-formally.

“You’re so sure of your success?” You asked.

“I am,” he leaned in to look at you. “Don’t worry, I shall still visit you at night whenever you invite me. I’m a dog at your command now,” he admitted shamelessly and you sat up, resting on your elbows to take a better look at him.

That fearsome warrior was completely under your spell and all you had to do was to let him taste your pussy. You laughed at him. He had so many other women, yet it was you who made him this way. You knew why. It was because you were a war prize, because you were from Paradise and because you were an off-world Shehzadi. But most importantly he wanted you because you were his uncle’s Baroness. He craved you to spite him.

“And if I command you to never touch me nor speak to me again? I have already used you for my own gain,” you teased and raised one of your feet to caress his thigh with it.

Feyd angrily grabbed your ankle and looked into your eyes intensely.

“Don’t think I will allow my child to be called his heir and watch myself being tossed aside as my son is remembered as Vladimir Harkonnen’s spawn,” he threatened.

You didn’t answer that, unsure about the meaning of his words. He gave you one last angry gaze and pushed your foot away before walking out of the room as if nothing had just happened.

Of course the medic did not believe your words but he pretended that he had. He couldn’t know that Feyd had told you about the fact that he was working for him so he just played along and informed the Baron that he had been mistaken and you were, in fact, finally pregnant with his son.

You had been hoping that once you’d be pregnant, your husband would leave you alone. But no, how wrong you had been. He was now keeping you around him nearly all the time as if you were a precious cargo. He invited many great leaders for official banquets and showed you off. He would sit you on his lap and keep his huge hand on your swollen abdomen proudly.

But you did not even mind that much – not when you knew that the child was not his. You would often catch Feyd-Rautha’s gaze somewhere in the room and give him a mysterious smile as he would give you a smirk. It was your secret, your revenge on The Baron Harkonnen.

And late at night he would creep inside your room and please you however you wanted him to, only to disappear before the first rays of the black sun would hit you, as if he was only a dream or a ghost. You would recognise his smell now everywhere, though. The feeling of his touch differed so much from others. There was nothing but pure and raw desire bonding you two together and yet, when you watched him in the gladiator arena next to your husband, you feared for his life and you would startle at the sight of his opponents attacking him.

You knew that if something or someone threatened your life, Feyd-Rautha would protect you and he was more physically capable of it than his uncle. You needed him alive to keep you and your son safe.

You admired his body and his strength, the amount of his devotion to you and his little revenge plan. He was magnetic and you almost felt lucky to be chosen by him even though it was you having the upper hand in this relationship.

Some nights he was not coming to you, too busy with other things or perhaps too exhausted after the training. You didn’t mind since your body needed a rest as well, especially now when you were six months pregnant already. That night was one of those lonely nights and you had problems with falling asleep, so when you were woken up abruptly in the early morning by your servants, you didn’t hide your annoyance.

“What is it?” You snapped and rubbed your eyes.

“It’s… It’s The Baron, my Lady,” the girl’s black Harkonnen eyes were widened out of fear.

“What about him?” You yawned and sat up, squinting your eyes at the sun creeping inside through the windows. Another servant was already opening the curtains.

“He… He drowned last night, my Lady,” the girl informed you and you froze.

“What?” You asked, blinking slowly, not sure if it wasn’t a dream. “What are you talking about? What do you mean drowned? My husband is dead?”

“Yes, Baroness… He drowned in his bathtub. My condolences,” she bowed down. “You are awaited by the lords for the council,” she informed you.

You were speechless as you allowed them to dress you up in a humble black dress of mourning. They did your hair up and put a light make up on your face to hide the dark bags underneath your eyes. Your mind was spinning with an endless train of thoughts.

One thing was certain – it had been no accident. It had to be Feyd-Rautha’s doing.

And as much as you were relieved to hear about The Baron’s death since he would never touch nor hurt you ever again… you were scared of what would happen now. There was no way the lords would allow you to rule as the widow. You were an off-world woman who had been married to their Baron as a war prize. You were a pet, nothing more. You only hoped to convince them to let your son be an heir as they call someone else a regent in his name. You couldn’t hope even for the regent title.

You were escorted to the council room by the guards and when you entered it, every man inside went silent. They bowed down and gave you their condolences but their eyes held no sympathy. Feyd-Rautha was not amongst them.

“Thank you, my lords,” you took a seat at the end of the long, black table. “It is a great tragedy but thankfully before his death, my husband has managed to produce an heir,” you brought up the topic immediately as the men looked at each other. “What is it?” You asked.

“The boy is not even born yet, my Lady,” one of the lords spoke up and pointed at Rabban. “If we announce Count Rabban the next Baron… or Feyd-Rautha as the late Baron wanted… Well, then they might produce their own heirs in the future. They are both young and capable.”

You got dizzy at those words and the reactions of other men. They seemed to hum in approval.

“So, I am to be tossed aside?” You asked, angrily. “I am carrying your late Baron’s son and you’re tossing me aside? The child inside me is a rightful heir,” you protested.

“And what would you want?” A different lord asked without even addressing you properly. You realised you had already lost. “Perhaps you want to be The Baroness Regent? Over my dead body I will let a woman – let alone from Pairi Daêza – to command me.”

“Enough!” The doors opened and Feyd-Rautha walked inside with his head held high and a playful smirk on his face. The way he confidently walked and scanned the room with his eyes was enough proof for you to know that it was him who had killed your husband. “The child is not yet born, that is a fair point,” he looked at the lord who had addressed the matter, “therefore at the time of my uncle’s death I was still the Na-Baron,” he added and you gasped softly. You couldn’t believe that he betrayed you. You chewed on the inside of your cheek at the realisation how stupid you had been to think you were playing on the same side.

You had never discussed any details of his plan with him. But you were carrying his son and you hoped he would protect you and the child. Apparently, he only tormented you for his own fun. You wanted to cry. You had lost everything.

Then he looked at you and his face softened a little at the sight of your trembling lip and sad eyes.

“I will wed my uncle’s widow to be my Baroness as the old levirate law says,” he announced and you froze out of shock. Levirate was a law about brothers but you guessed an uncle with such an important title counted as that, too.

“Respecting that law is not expected from you, my Lord Baron,” one of the lords informed him. “You can choose any other bride.”

“I can,” Feyd nodded and stood behind your chair as he rested his hand on your shoulder, “but I will not. I’m choosing Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen to be my bride,” he announced as the lords looked at each other, as surprised as you were. Out of relief you reached your hand up to hold his and squeeze it in a grateful manner. “I also want to make it known,” Feyd raised his voice and everyone went silent as they looked at him, “that the child she is carrying is mine and not my late uncle’s, therefore her son is my heir.”

Your heart started to pound in your chest. The eyes of the lords were staring at you with such intensity that you were afraid they would make a hole inside of you. You swallowed thickly, knowing perfectly well that you just had to admit to your sins now.

“I confirm,” you nodded and they began to whisper between each other. Feyd’s hand squeezed yours.

“If you do not believe me nor The Baroness, the medic might make a public announcement of the paternity test but I do hope you will not humiliate your Baroness like that,” Feyd told them and they all went silent again.

“N-no, my lord Baron,” one of the lords stood up and bowed down in your direction. “We accept the child as yours and we will let others know.”

“I do not want this matter to be discussed nor questioned,” Feyd stated harshly.

“With all respect, brother,” Rabban spoke up suddenly and you laid your eyes on him, curious about what he was going to say, “the matter that has been discussed and questioned so far was our uncle’s fatherhood. The only thing we have found out today was the identity of the man our Baroness has laid with.”

“Rabban,” Feyd barked at him.

“It is quite alright,” you said. “I am rather relieved that I do not have to lie about it anymore as I am proud to carry Feyd-Rautha’s son under my heart,” you smiled at the lords. Some of them rolled their eyes but they still nodded their heads at you.

“Then it’s settled,” Feyd announced. “Go back to your chambers as we settle the details about my uncle’s funeral and the rest of the upcoming ceremonies, my Lady,” he looked down at you and you nodded. He helped you to stand up and placed a kiss upon the palm of your hand before taking your seat by the table.

You were taken back to your chambers accompanied by the guard as you caressed your womb gently, very content with the outcome of that council.

The excitement made you less tired so you just ordered breakfast. Once you were finishing it, the doors to your bedroom opened and Feyd-Rautha entered your chamber. For the first time by daylight, without making it a secret. You stood up from the table and approached him with a smile before you threw your hands around his neck.

“My darling,” you greeted him. “I have doubted you for a short while this morning, you know that?”

“Have I not told you that I would not allow my son to be remembered as his heir?” Feyd smiled at you and pulled you closer by your hips – as close as he could with your swollen womb between you two.

“But the lords were right. You do not have to marry me. I can give you a son, he can be your heir. There is no need to wed me,” you pointed out.

“Don’t you want it?” Feyd tilted his head.

“I’m asking do you want it,” you pointed out.

“I wanted to marry you a year ago when you came here, after I lifted up that veil. Why would I change my mind?” He put his hand on your abdomen and caressed it possessively. “You were supposed to be mine. You would have been mine if he hadn’t wanted to spite me.”

“Why do you want me?” You asked. “As a Baron you could have anyone. One of the Imperial Princesses even.”

“You’ve got what it takes, my Lady. You’re stubborn and strong. I’ve claimed you, you are mine,” he insisted.

You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your fingertips. It was hard to believe that he was yours now. Your husband. You would no longer dread these words.

“I will be a good wife to you, Feyd-Rautha,” you promised, genuinely. You did not want any games nor conflict. “I want only one thing from you.”

“And what is it?” He squinted his eyes at you, curiously.

“Safety,” you pleaded. “Of me and my family.”

“Your family is now my family,” he nodded and you sighed with relief. “I want a few things from you, too,” he added and you bit on your lower lip.

“What is it?” You asked.

“You will share your chambers with me,” he started and you nodded, “you will give me more heirs,” he added and you smiled at that, “and you will never mention him again,” he finished sternly.

“Never mention who?” You asked softly and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips. “There is only you and I.”

MASTERLIST

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