#power to you rat man
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this game is wild
diveristy win! the entity haunting and terrorizing you is pan!
but seriously help the rat man and puzzle are flirting (??) and PEOPLE ARE SHIPPING THEM.....
NO THEYRE LIKE ACTUALLY ACTUALLY FLIRTING THIS IS HILARIOUS
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In a general context, the Six of Pentacles Tarot card represents gifts, kindness and generosity. Someone in your life may be very generous towards you with gifts or money or simply generous with their time, knowledge or wisdom. Alternately, you may have so much wealth and prosperity that you are the one in a position to help others...You may be feeling a strong sense of community spirit or compelled to help those around you when it appears in your Tarot spread. It is also a card of power and control so you may find yourself in a position of authority or being well-respected by others when it appears in your Tarot reading. The Six of Pentacles is usually a positive card to get as it can signify equality and fairness and can also symbolise being well paid, being valued or being rewarded for hard work. If you are prospering when it appears, remember to share your good fortune with those around you! ...In a general context, the Six of Pentacles reversed Tarot card can represent lack of generosity, meanness or gifts that come with strings or conditions attached. Someone in your life may be showing you generosity but have ulterior motives or they may be in a position to help you but they may be abusing that position or trying to make you subservient to them. If you are in a position of power, it can be an indication that you are using your power for ill means. This Minor Arcana card reversed can signify lack of charity or community spirit.
-Six of Pentacles
The Two of Swords The Hierophant The Hanged Man The Devil The Lovers The Sun The Moon
#amnesia the bunker#Joubert time! because-well he IS a pathetic fictional man so riddled with guilt he should be on suicidewatch i AM eine girlie auf tumblr#i can't fix him but i can make him worse *emails joubert a screenshot of marceau's note*#I still have to know how he convinced Fournier to tell him the arsenal code...#at the risk of sounding like an embittered hater I hope he pulled a gun on that rat bastard <3#also I know it's a video game so you need to complete little tasks etc and so on BUT I am a bit sad the radio has to be powered on...#I just think it'd be fun to have the implication that some people were lured to a locked door in a dangerously bottlenecked hallway#by the sound of Joubert's voice via radio... :( ah well.#shakespeareomnibus#amnesia
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ok so your first problem was assuming mdzs is a story where Good People are Rewarded and Bad People are Punished.
your second problem was assuming that MXTX—who goes out of her way to showcase unresolved, tragic, undeserved endings in all of her works—would ever write a story with such a shallow notion of “deserving.”
the only reason wangxian makes it out unscathed is because they’re literally the protagonists. authorial intent and plot armor ensure their happy ending. that’s it.
#mdzs talk#moi#i mean it also helps that neither wwx nor lwj give a rats ass about the rest of the cultivation world#wwx had already fucked off and lwj was basically doing that too#that man has never given a single shit about politics and maintaining good relationships#like what does it say about you if even jiang cheng is a better politician than you.#mister ‘don’t talk to me before i’ve had my coffee. or after. just don’t fucking talk to me.’#but yeah wangxian is like oh we helped to create a massive power vacuum and destabilized the entire cultivation world?#ahaha no way!🤪 hey actually can this wait? my husband and i wanna go fuck in the bushes 🥰#like. lwj that’s YOUR brother that just lost his most significant emotional support of the last decade.#wwx that’s YOUR pseudo nephew whose parental figure you just got killed.#that’s YOUR pseudo nephew who now has to become sect leader at like 15.#but nah they wanna go bang on the side of the road#god forbid they try to clean up some of the gigantic mess they helped to make#and nobody try to argue ‘well but jgy!!’ buh buh buh nothing. jgy cleaned up after himself.#neither wwx nor lwj had ANY personal stake in seeing jgy dead. lwj SHOULD have had a personal stake in keeping him alive actually.#i still think it’s super shitty and hypocritical of lwj to defend wwx so strongly and yet try so hard to condemn jgy in PRIVATE#both wwx and lwj really showed their asses at guanyin ngl. obviously huaisang did too.#like yeah it’s noble and righteous or whatever but like. righteousness was not why lwj defended wwx before.#wangxian stans being self-righteous and hypocritical? with classist double standards? with black and white mentality?#wow! who would have ever guessed?
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New superhero:
Plasticgirl, she can control plastic
#uses her power to get plastic out of oceans n shit#one day a guy tries to assult her and she just fucking cloggs his heart with all zhe microplastic in his body#her mentor figure is joachim the garbage man#sees someone littering and yeets the trash into their face#kid choking on kinder egg container? not anymore#seperates trash into the correct bins faster than your ass#someone breaks their leg and she just makes a stabilizer while calling an ambulance#her main villain is the CEO of an oil company “i gave you power” “yes. you gave me the power to destroy you”#she has reoccuring dreams of a moonfish giving her advice#finds a dying rat on the street and bends the plastic out of it so it's intestans can recover
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I am still not over the level cap thing what do you mean level fucking 10
#rat rambles#like do they not realize how fucking pathetically low that is?#like it is So easy to get a follower to level 10 especially late game#like in every playthrough of this game Ive done I always have at least one follower whos past level 40 usually several#Im glad they didnt retroactively lower existing followers levels but it still sucks#it just makes leveling them feel kind of pointless when theyre likely going to passively max out after a certain point anyways#like genuinely I dont even understand what the point of this change is#because its not like getting broke. high level followers is much of a concern early game#and mid game is usually only a potential issue balance wise if youve been putting in a stupid amount of effort since the start#and by the time you get to the late game I. genuinely dont think it matters.#like in early late game again youll only have genuinely broken high levels if youve been going hard at leveling followers#and by the end of the late game its like ok and. let ppl be powerful cmon man.#like theres So many things they could have done to adjust the balancing that wasnt this#like if theyre concerned abt faith generation then make a cap on that or make it not a one to one level thing#if theyre concerned about demons then they could again adjust the scaling slightly or simply make it harder to level followers#they could have even used the deciple thing to help with that by having it be a prerequisite to higher levels#like maybe you could have a couple rings of inner circles with each tier unlocking another ten levels#and they could even add a lower cap at like 50 or smth just dont make it fucking 10#that might genuinely be the worst part of this update and Im not even joking when I say this just killed my motivation to play more#its one of the few things that you were able to keep working on and expanding after unlocking everything else#I genuinely really hope they change this because if not then I think Ill have to drop the game thats how bad it is to me
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[stares at you but it actually looking behind you] do you think moths would like to drive cars
#just me hi#they HAVE the lights#they have the Power !!!#eh but i think they would be terrible drivers hvfbsh#not that they wouldn't put any spirit into it - with the way they flit around they'd definitely get a kick out of driving (terribly)#but they'd get too flitty w/ it or at night get too distracted by other cars or their own car's lights. and then- GASP! tragedy..#or not. probably not hfhhsbc :)#i think snakes would Love to drive#i can't explain why. but they would be overjoyed#like rats !!#/rodents are scary but very darling in their own little way and i love them for that lol :D#when we lived in detroit we had a mouse problem that came and went every odd amount of years#and one year i had the small bedroom to myself (very sick) and 2018 was kind of hectic so nobody noticed when i'd stay up til like 4 a.m. o#the ~+~net~+~ (pinterest + google music (rip google music i miss you so bad lmao <///3) (internet was very small to me))#but after some nights of that (i'd sit in a comfortable chair and curl my legs under me n just be like that for hours) there was. a Visitor#oh lords!! not a Visitor!!!.. it was a little mouse. small guy. tiny man#but he was Scary to me so i threw some things in front of him and he got spooked and ran away#well. eventually that stopped working lmao. so he came All the way out and walked around my chair. then went back to his little house#(wherever that was) and the same thing was repeated for every night after that#eventually i got used to it and just never put my feet on the floor. we did not bother each other and i named him Steven#one night i tossed him an apple core because if he's gonna be doing this and i'm not gonna be doing anything i might as well feed him.#my mouse now. well. not really cuz after that he Never showed up again ????#steven what the heck???? for real?????? anyway. that is the story of steven lol#i hope his little mouse friends in the attic had a good christmas :)
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There is something so almost goblincorey about rain.
You can bury yourself in mud and become one with nature.
Catch a cold and become the snot ness monster!
Huddle under a ragged blanket and screech at random passerby running out of the rain!
Use your umbrella as a lance and joust your friend in the eye!
Take said friend to the hospital for eye surgery because you're a heathen but a good friend!
Do a little dance in the rain to a frog song!
The possibilities are endless my friends, use shitty weather to your advantage and remember to wear your grave digging galoshes!
#goblin things#goblincore#goblin queen#goblin culture#rat man#cottagecore#tumblr culture#tumblr#rain#adhd things#i thought of this at 3am#it was after i woke up from a dream#a frog bapped me on the nose and gave me the power of flight#thank you fred the frog#hyperfixation#frogs#moss#witchcore
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.
#yknow the latest **** drama#I get the intention#but man don’t speak over the people who will be affected by that rat’s actions#also white saviorism is still alive#and don’t know how insane it is to be in an authoritarian regime#or similar to one#and how you cannot force easterners to just accept western values#the progressive people of those country will be the one who’ll bring change#cause they understand the sociopolitical and cultural aspects#that could bring change in the country#it’s just cringe to speak over the lgbtq community of Malaysia#it’s just gonna pivot more countries to make their own coalition#or turn to other powers that aren’t western#anyway people who don’t live or understand how authoritarian#and how the government has no qualms using the military#in many Asian countries#don’t get how the western democratic way of doing things#can harm the people trying to champion progressive movements in their own country#anyway most non Asians wouldn’t get it#for the record I get what Rat is doing#I do agree with his sentiments about the oppressive regimes#it’s the people who speak over the lgbtq community of this Asian country#that’s just#you don’t know how terrifying it can be#when an Authoritarian regime is in full force against something#they will use the military on their own people#that’s a difference between protesting in the US#over a place like China or similar countries#in some countries the most effective boycott is to economically hurt them#for example China would never bend as long as it keeps progressing economically
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The best thing you can do when someone is going on about the power they have is to ask them about their friends.
"I'll show you how powerful I really am!"
...okay bro, but, like, do you even have friends?
#{domino talks}#kingdom hearts#this is a kingdom hearts joke#also a beyblade one cuz kyle (beyblader. not a rat) was like 'hahahahha i'll show you my true power'#and my immediate thought without thinking was that.. hey man.. I don't think you even have friends.. so what power?#and it was stupid but also funny#anyway i need help because my eyes are tired of seeing through my glasses but i was on a roll with picking up beyblade again :(
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At least even when I was a teenager and identified as communist, I was still never a soviet apologist
(And as I got older I came to dislike the USSR more and more and more, also seeing that soviet apologism kinda tended to fuck things up for western communists cause they'd be so busy running defense for people who didn't like or care about them, that actually getting policies passed to help western workers came second to being a tankie)
(Straight up, while I was volunteering in Quebec, one of the people I stayed with had this book by her uncle about being a Canadian communist, and he basically pinned soviet apologism as the whole reason he left the party cause they were more interested is doing PR for the kremlin than they were interested in like... unionizing in Canada)
Anyway, tankies suck, soviet apologism suck, and I'm glad to be able to say that even when I was a communist I didn't fall into that trap... like thank fuck for that, you know?
#honestly my positions as a teenager were more or less what they are now; just not as clear and using different worse terms#these days I'm just so sick of legislating what's socialism; what's capitalism; what's whatever#that it's like man... I think robust social safety nets are good in a lot of ways including for the economy#and I think that probably using currency makes more sense than barter#I just also think strong regulations are important cause otherwise you wind up with rat shit in the food (need stronger than we have)#and I think that handing out that money via welfare is a good way to get people spending and also living decently#so call that whatever the fuck you want; I don't care about the label; I care about achieving those goals or something similar#really just don't like labels these days; like descriptivism where I describe what I am and let other people fill in the blanks#makes for a lot less confusion than post communist when I'd always have to be arguing over what a socialist was#I no longer give a shit; I yam what I yam; and what I yam is someone who likes welfare and making sure people have enough#also fucking over big companies; I'm for that over all#part of the reason I stopped being a communist is I've had this rule for years now that says#'groups of roughly more than 50 people start getting corruption'#communism 100% works on a small scale; most households are communist; everything into the big pot to serve the communal good#my minecraft server is communist; we don't sell each other stuff; all goes into the same pot and we take and share what we need#at a scale of like 10 people communism actually works great; isn't a dirty word at that point#it's chipping in and being part of a community#(you gotta be a real messed up group of people for sharing and pooling resources to lead to mass graves when there's like 5 of you)#but in a big group communism is a great way to have the worst person get absolute power; it just sucks ass and should never be done#wonderful in theory; but doomed 100% of the time in practice; never do communism on a government scale#but anyway; same reason I hate communism is why I also hate mega corps... lot more than 50 people#and what do you know? they're corrupt as shit#other thing about less than 50 people; you can kinda more directly see when someone sucks#and you can kick em out; or you can leave; or you can say 'that small business is awful; I'm never shopping there'#I don't know; I'm just thinking outloud at this point; I can't give you some detailed polisci paper in fucking tumblr tags
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Tag Drop
#ooc *ੈ you take a mortal man#psa *ੈ and put him in control#answer *ੈ watch her become a god#semi *ੈ watch people's heads a roll#para *ੈ just like the pied piper#convo *ੈ led rats through the streets#likes *ੈ we dance like marionettes#musings *ੈ acting like a robot#ask meme *ੈ it's metal brain corrodes#headcanon *ੈ you try to take its pulse#muse *ੈ before the head explodes#music *ੈ the earth starts to rumble#dash game *ੈ world powers fall#starter *ੈ a warring for the heavens#wanted *ੈ a peaceful man stands tall#promo *ੈ everybody wants to change the world#wanted *ੈ but no one no one wants to die
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Karma I am begging you to please stop
whaaaat? :( just when I started having fun too..
#answers be upon ye#jokes aside though#sorry for filling everyone’s feed with the funny rat man :(#if you enjoy it more power to you then
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it sucks not being queer like i want cool titles too but im stuck with he/him like a hoser
#gay#not gay#sad#maybe i should become a knight#sir k. i like that#prideless#i mean#how hard can it be#to become#a knight#i can put a nail in my walking cane and kill some random old dude#thats how you become a knight right?#by killing an already existing knight?#idfk#its 5am#im gonna watch big yellow talk about non playable characters in fighting games.#man big yellow kicks ass#idk what pronouns big yellow uses but they kick/ass.#would watch a 3 hour video of them sweeping rby with a raticate again.#rat power#ratposting#wait didnt flygon hg make a rat power joke#idk man#pokemon#i mean technically#i am a knight but#classpect#s#dont mean shit irl.#id go on but turns out tumblr has a 30 tag limit thats so stupid imo whoever made that decision should go home and eat a meatpie and a yogur
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔?
YOU CANNOT FIX HIM.
just don’t even try. its not worth it
#Loss of Powers | {OOC}#I'm Not A Hero Kid | About the Muse {Macaque}#You Are Not Invited | {Do Not Reblog}#Common Trope | {Quiz}#I AM WHEEZING#Would've also accepted 'gross sewer rat of a guy' answer UwU#BUT THIS WORKS TOO#THE STINKY BLORBO#SMELLY BOI. STANK MONKEY. BAD MAN.
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Yandere! Game Show Host Hcs
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
A/N: I saw this request and was like this is such a cool request but what if we made him an evil game show host. Like one that would put contestants in deadly scenarios.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host who kidnaps all of the contestants and forces them to play this twisted game that he created for money. Don’t worry though, he rigged the entire game to be in your favor. It was discreet enough for the viewers not to really care but apparent enough for you to notice the favoritism. Did you care? Hell no!! As long as you were getting paid you and survived this whole ordeal could give a rats ass about what happened next. Even when you do manage to get certain questions wrong, he will just brush it off and pretend that it was just a warm up question. The contestants are definitely seething whenever they see this happening.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is a psychopath by nature. In each round, he presents the contestants with morally ambiguous dilemmas, enticing them with promises of grand rewards while dangling the threat of dire consequences for failure. Whether it's forcing them to choose between betraying a fellow contestant or facing a treacherous obstacle, he revels in their anguish, relishing the psychological torment he inflicts.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host is doing everything in his power to make sure that you win the game. He can’t have his poor baby feeling upset if they fail to win the grand prize. He would absolutely give out the most insane questions that practically no one knows the answer to. The punishment for getting a few questions wrong is mutilation of certain body parts and if you get too many questions wrong then you’ll end up being sent to your death. While everyone is basically being tortured in their punishments, he’d never allow that to happen to you. At most he’d probably just flick your forehead and call it a day. I imagine that most of the people watching the show are people who paid for the contestants to be kidnapped and be brought there against their wishes. Everyone who is put onto his show is a horrible person, including yourself, and have done something to be warranted to be there.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host bends all the rules of the game for you, providing subtle hints or covert assistance to ensure your safety. Although he has a strong desire to see others in pain and suffering, his love for you is stronger. At first justifies these actions as preserving the "entertainment value" of the show, but deep down, he's driven by an inexplicable desire to protect you.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host would baby you during your time there. He’d make a fuss whenever you tried to do anything remotely dangerous or touch some blood. I could totally see him using a baby voice to try to convince you to stop what you're doing. He has no shame, and everyone is looking at him with utter disbelief/confusion on their faces.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Oh No! Please don’t go over there! You might slip from all the blood on the ground! Come here let me carry you across.”
Viewers: “…”
The contestant with their leg cut off: “…”
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host thrives on the power he wields over his contestants, reveling in their suffering as they navigate his challenges. As the game progresses, his demeanor grows more twisted, enjoying the contestants' internal conflicts and emotional turmoil. He taunts them with mocking laughter, reveling in their discomfort and manipulating their decisions to heighten the drama. God forbid that you manage to develop a crush on someone while you are there. He’d absolutely lose it and do everything in his power to crush them. You best believe that he’s going to keep them alive for as long as possible and give them the worst punishments known to man.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host has cameras everywhere and when it's time for the contestants to rest for the night he’s going to be observing you. He’s a loser who doesn’t really know how to act around you without becoming a mess. In his spare time, he likes to just watch you through the cameras and imagine himself right next to you. He’s absolutely delulu about your feelings towards him and believes that you feel the same way. Even when you do manage to win this fucked up game, he’s not letting you go. There’s no way that he’s letting you leave after you managed to steal his heart. After this is all over, he’s taking you to his house and locking you there.
🌟 Yandere! Game Show Host holds pride in knowing how many people are at the mercy of his hand. Has a minor God complex and has this skewed mindset about how everyone else is beneath him besides you. Believes that you were made just for him and that you're his one true love. Would rather die than give you up or allow anyone to “take you away from him”. He’s like an annoying roach and almost impossible to get rid of. He’s making sure to stay with you for as long as possible.
—
Yandere! Game Show Host strides onto the stage with a wicked gaze, his piercing gaze fixed on the contestants. His voice, a chilling blend of charm and malice, booms through the speakers as he welcomes the participants with a mocking flourish. Thom who were strapped onto a table with heavy objects over their heads.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright contestant number one, what is the mass of the Sun divided by Planck's constant in nanometers.
Contestant One: “HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT!?!?!”
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Unfortunately, that's not the correct answer. You’ll now be facing the consequences.” In a matter of seconds, the heavy object comes flying down with alarming speed. Upon impact, it mercilessly crushes against their skull, unleashing an overwhelming and unimaginable force that distorts bone and flesh. Yandere! Game Show Host then makes his way towards you and begins to speak.
Yandere! Game Show Host: “Alright, it's your turn now. No pressure, I know you’ll do great just take your time. Okay what’s 1 + 1?”
You: “2.”
Yandere! Game Show Host: "Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it."
Other Contestants: “What the hell!?!? How is this fair!?!!
#yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere game show host
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Atonement: Feyd-Rautha x Reader
A/N: fic i wrote with @triluvial 's lovely idea
tw: 18+, smut but pretty soft, oral (f recieving), so so so so much angst, fluff after tho dw, swearing, hints of sa and pedophilia from the baron, baron is also creepy to reader but not explicitly, u gotta bear with my yapping in the beginning but it gets good i promise, inkpie
wc: 3.9k
headcanons for this universe
When you married Feyd-Rautha, you were warned of many things. His cruelty, both in and out of the bedroom, his bloodlust, his uncontrollable rage, his violence, his complete and utter lack of mercy. They told you he was psychotic, he was a cold blooded murderer, he was insatiable and that you’d be lucky to last a year with him, and yet, they never cautioned you of his sheer, unerring indifference.
Before your marriage, you fancied that he’d be like fire; raging, searing to touch. You went as far as to wish to tame his inferno. Late at night, when you could not sleep and doubt wreathed your thoughts, you also considered that he’d be like ice, like the colour of his piercing eyes, glacial and cold, devoid of anything soft or sweet.
As a child, you saw him fight in the arena. There he blazed with passion, his victor’s smile a cruel curve upon his face, his knife blade stained dark with fresh blood: he was mesmerising. At that time you were beginning to understand that your future had been sold to this violent man, and you resented your parents for it - now you realise that it went deeper than that, that it was rooted in generations of religion, of whisperings of the Bene Gesserit. Still, even then, you found the way he burned intriguing, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
But you were wrong. He turned out to be neither fire nor ice, just stingingly, dismissively apathetic. His eyes slide right over you when he happens to pass you in the corridors, as if you’re lower than a servant, lower than the rare rats that survive Giedi Prime’s conditions. You suspected your marriage would be painful, wedded to a man such as he was, but you didn’t think it would be this damn lonely.
You wished he hated you.
That way, at least you’d mean something to your husband. At least then vehement, savage emotion would rise within his gaze whenever he looked at you, not that horrible, polarising blankness. You wish you disgusted him, because then he’d at least he’d speak his mind - you had learnt that he spoke with brutal honesty, uncaring of the consequences.
Maybe to him, that’s all you are. A consequence of being high born, of being the na-Baron. You mean nothing to him, and he treats you as such; to him, you are less than the speck of dust on the floor, less than a grain of sand in his beloved arena.
It’s not that you wish for him to dote on you, nor love you or devote himself to you. You just wish he would look you in the eye and feel something; you’d rather him stare at you in revulsion and call you names that you can’t even think up yourself than the dead, lifeless detachment that clouds his face when he sees you in your shared chambers.
Feyd-Rautha has never laid a hand on you in violence; in fact he rarely touches you at all. The last, and only time he kissed you was during the wedding day, and he makes no moves to be in bodily contact with you any more than he has to be. You are obliged to produce an heir from him, yet even in these infrequent encounters it seems as if it is a chore for him - he takes no pleasure in your body nor does he try to pleasure you, and he makes no sound when he takes you, staying as long as it takes for his seed to fill your womb before leaving without a word. On those nights, your thighs tremble as you stumble to the bathroom, only allowing your tears to fall once the shower water is searing on your skin.
During the first month of your marriage, you did everything in your power to please him. You thought maybe you weren’t pretty enough for him, maybe you were not desirable as a wife, so you always smiled at him, made an effort to fill the silence that pervaded the air around him, bringing up topics you knew he would enjoy, like the arena, like his love for knives and duels. To even that he would not reply, rebutting your questions with monosyllables or simply ignoring you. You stopped once he began to leave the room while you were mid sentence.
It is now your fourth month locked in this marriage with an uncaring man, and all you feel is bleak, crushing resignation. Somehow, Feyd-Rautha seems to take more interest in conversing with his brother than you.
You wonder if he has forgotten your name. He addresses you simply as ‘wife’ - that, and nothing more, the title leaving his lips like an accusatory curse, reminding you that if you did not serve a purpose to him, and if decorum did not restrain him, he’d have disposed of you by now, either by slitting your throat or simply abandoning you outside the palace grounds, not even bothering to end you himself.
The palace in question is lonely, but you feel the loneliest when you lay awake at night, shivering on your side of the bed as Feyd-Rautha slumbers to your right. Tears always prick your eyes during those moments, but you stifle them, afraid that you’ll rouse him with your crying; you do not know what you’ve done to garner his mistrust, but many times you’ve glimpsed the knife he keeps beneath his pillow, the cold blade glinting in the moonlight.
Often you wonder if he has a secret lover, and that is why he does not bother with you. You wake up sometimes and he is gone, but soon you realised that he would visit his concubines, especially after he had bred you. You would finish your shower, unable to wash off the feel that you were dirty, you were just an animal, a mindless thing to produce an heir for him, and he would be lounging in the antechambers of your quarters, ignoring your presence with the three harpies wrapped around him, whispering in his ears and caressing his moonlight skin. They accompanied him everywhere he wished, even in public, and to begin with, you felt humiliated that he would so explicitly show that you were not to his satisfaction.
Now, it just makes the solitude even worse.
You find solace in no one. More than once, you have walked in on the servants laughing behind your back, and as it became evident your husband was uninterested in you, they did not hide their mocking. The Baron’s other nephew you hardly saw, and the Baron himself terrified you: there was something in the way that he stared at you, his beady eyes glittering from where they were set deep within his putrid flesh, that made you feel more soiled than even after Feyd-Rautha took you.
So you remain isolated, speaking only when spoken to, drifting through the palace’s wide, dark hallways like a ghoul, a mourning spectre. You can barely remember your life before, just wisps and fleeting flashes of colour that ridicule rather than comfort you.
To Feyd, it is obvious who you are. A spy, commanded by his uncle to report every single one of his doings to you; he cannot slip up once around you, cannot reveal his weaknesses, that he is desperate to be loved, to be seen as someone whose only use is not war. He sees the way his uncle looks at you, hungry for information you do not have because he does not impart it, the way the Baron comments on you and the way you flinch at his words, pretending that you do not report to him.
Feyd is determined in his resolve to give nothing away. His uncle has held power over him since he was young, he refuses to give him even an inch over him now. He still has nightmares of it, which he wakes up from with his pale skin sheened in clammy sweat, clammy like the hands of his uncle.
Sometimes, he sees the tears in your eyes after he fucks you. The first time, he almost stopped, almost asked you where it hurt, but you turned away before he could, acting, always acting; acting when you smile graciously at him, acting when you ask him what his favourite type of blade is, what his favourite form of swordsmanship is. You are good at pretending, but of course you are - his uncle is the Baron, a man who bathes in power. No doubt he would get only the best of spies.
Tonight, you are not where you normally are. At this hour, you are usually asleep, or feigning it in the very least, curled up small on your side of the mattress, yet the bed is still made, the sheets unrumpled and smoothed down as they were this morning. Feyd thinks that maybe he might catch you reporting to his uncle, so he strides out of your shared chambers, pausing in the doorway to listen carefully; as a boy, he hunted in forests that have now been chopped down and industrialised, but he has maintained his keen ears long after the last wild plant on Giedi Prime’s surface choked on the fumes of pollution.
There’s a soft noise, barely perceptible, that echoes down the corridor to his right. Silently, he tracks it down the labyrinthine passages of the palace, servants scurrying out of his warpath, bowing their heads to him - he wonders if they too report to his uncle, if they travel now to his quarters to inform him of his beloved nephew’s whereabouts.
Feyd wishes he and Rabban were brothers first before rivals. Then he could have someone to rely on, someone who he trusted in this palace built on lies.
Pausing, Feyd cocks his head. You huddle in a crumpled heap at the end of the corridor, your knees hugged tightly to your chest, head low as if under a crushing weight. It occurs to him that maybe the Baron was displeased with your efforts to gain information and made it known to you - a pang of pity tugs at him, for he knows what his uncle’s wrath is like. At least you have been spared from the sole thing worse than that - the Baron’s thirst.
‘What are you doing, wife?’
Your head snaps up, Feyd-Rautha’s unfeeling voice kindling a rare burst of temper from you. Is it not evident to him what you are doing? Or is he just too blind to see the tears streaking down your cheeks? Your words are injected with venom when you speak, and you hope that it stings him for leaving you alone in this cold, dark place.
‘So now I am of concern to you?’
Feyd is taken aback by the indignant arch of your brows, the resentment displayed in your eyes. It takes him a moment to register the harshness lacing your voice - you have never addressed him in this way - and another to digest your words. There’s a bleakness in your wet, tear stained face as you stare up at him, and shock too, as if you did not expect yourself to speak against him this way.
Something clicks into place.
Feyd recognises that look in your eyes. He recognises it, because he’s seen it in the mirror a hundred times before; haunted, harrowed, lonely. He remembers nights when he trembled beneath the cold sheets of his bed, when he was small enough that he felt like he was drowning in the black satin, his eyes wide as the fabric seemed to wend around his limbs, tying him there as he lay fearful of everyone, fearful that his uncle would summon him. Even young, he was so terribly aware of not knowing who he could trust and who would turn to the Baron, bearing information like knives to split open his childish skin and spill his guts on the freezing stone floor.
It broke him. He is barely a shell of a sentient being, repressed emotions wreathing like ghosts around his frame, his eyes hollow, his heart decaying. In his fear, he was blinded, and he pushed you to the place where he had been all those years ago, so terribly, terribly alone - you are stronger than him, for lasting this long.
Sharp, plunging, dread sinks in his stomach, weighs down his soul; he has done unspeakable things to you, treated you like a dog, like a whore - worse. How can you look at him without hatred in your eyes, spite?
Bile rises in his throat, his heart seized by a dark, burning anger. He has done this to you, he has slashed your skin and left you bleeding, and yet all you did was try to please him. In an effort to save himself, he trampled you under foot; in order to keep you out, he left you surrounded by shadows. Feyd has never hated himself so much, has never despised who he has become with this much furor.
Slowly, he crouches before you. Eyes wide, you shrink away, misreading the direction of his rage, flinching when he reaches out a hand. Pressing your back against the wall behind you, you turn your head away from him, fear causing tears to spill down your cheeks: he sees the way you will the stone to swallow you up, knows the feeling.
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ you choke out, hands trembling uncontrollably.
Something deep within Feyd’s soul withers and dies at your words. Forcing his jaw to unclench, his hands to release the fists they held, he shoves down his anger. The fury is for later, for when he has made things right - for now it is you that is his priority. Too late, a voice whispers in his ears, too late, too late, too late -
Gods, he deserves to burn at the fucking stake for this. He deserves eternal hell for this, he deserves worse. He is a fool: a blind, blundering fool, stuffed to the brim with paranoia and cynicism.
He sucks in a breath. ‘I will not hurt you. You have my word, whatever it is worth to you. I - I have made an irredeemable mistake, I - ’
After his first sentence, you have not heard him. Tears of relief soak your face, and you whisper needless apologies for them; it is an arrow through his heart that you fear him so - yet the pain is where it is due, justifiable for the way he has shamed you, belittled you.
‘May I - may I touch you, my wife?’
You do not know why you nod in reply of your husband’s strange request, but the moment you do, strong arms pull you into a solid chest, and a sob leaves you - he is so warm, warm enough to banish the seeping cold embedded in your bones, warm enough to let your sorrow flow anew, soaking his shirt as your hands bunch in its fabric, so that if he is cruel enough to leave you here, at least he will have to fight to do so. You have not been held in a long time.
Each of your shuddering sobs is a knife blade twisting in Feyd’s spirit. He lets the pain wash over him, clings to the way you burrow into his arms, a kind creature in the embrace of a monster. At one point, in the throes of your crying, you beat at his chest, telling him that you hate him, and he takes it with a bowed head, stroking your hair and holding you tighter once you exhaust yourself; this is only a fraction of his atonement.
You fall asleep in his arms. He carries you back to your quarters, and only once the door is closed behind him does he let his tears mingle with yours. Keeping you cradled to his chest like a child, he pours a glass of water for you to drink in the morning, knowing you will be dehydrated; he sets it on your bedside table before laying you down on the mattress.
You don’t let go of him, even in your sleep. His heart clenches, tight in his chest, and he drops a kiss in your hair before lying down beside you.
He believes he will love you, if you will let him.
Consciousness leaks slowly into your mind, and you blink, squinting through the beam of light that filters in through the curtains. From your months spent here, you’ve realised that Giedi Prime’s atmosphere is normally churned up with violent storms and choked with pollution, so this ray of sun that falls against your pillow, warming your face is far from unwanted - nor is the pale forearm tucked around your waist, firmly so, but not trapping you either.
Your husband’s chest fits snugly against your back, his breath warm and steady against your skin; his fingers splay out across your stomach, gentle, communicating so many things that were left unsaid. Vaguely, you remember falling asleep, nestled against his chest, tears drying on your cheeks.
When you roll over, you’re unsurprised that he’s already awake. With blue eyes softened by the sunlight, he regards you, fingers settled at the small of your waist. Something clouds his gaze, and he shifts, propping himself up on his elbows.
‘I owe you an explanation.’
You wait silently, unperturbed by the way he clenches his jaw. He vowed to you last night that he would not hurt you, and you trust that. Wordlessly, his lips open, then close, and you patiently watch him, far too well acquainted with how this man struggles to let down his guard - even now, you cannot read the twisting of his features, the way his eyes squint as he looks at you.
‘I - I thought you were a spy sent by my uncle,’ he finally confesses. ‘My uncle… when I was younger, he,’
Reaching out, you cup his jaw in your hand, running your thumb along his cheekbone until he relaxes. You see the battle in his eyes, to let go, to tell you the knowledge that he thinks you deserve, but you see with it the years of hurt, of solitude. Something hopeful, something beautiful blossoms within you - the realisation that this wounded beast before you is someone that you could grow to love; you want him to bare his scars to you, those that are long healed and those that still seep with blood.
‘All in good time, Feyd,’ you assure him quietly.
He sighs, touches his lips against your palm. ‘I am sorry, my wife.’
Slipping your hand down to grip his shoulder, you lean closer towards him so you can kiss him. An anguished sound leaves him, and you see clearly how he realises that he has wronged you, how it pains him, and yet how the taste of you awakens something tender within him - you marvel at it, that it has survived, buried within him for so long. Perhaps he will let you love him.
Feyd is neither forward nor insatiable in the way he kisses you. In fact, he pulls away first, moving to get up from the bed despite the way your hands grip his shoulders, and you almost doubt that he wants you before you glimpse the longing in his eyes that lingers before he pushes it down. You wonder if this man knows how to make love or if he just knows how to fuck, you wonder if he feels the same molten feeling in his stomach that you feel and that is why his movements are tinged with nerves as he gently escapes your grasp. It is clear to you: he does not want to scare you.
‘Must you go?’ You ask, tugging at his fingers.
He tilts his head. ‘I don’t know if you want me here, after what I have inflicted upon you.’
A streak of bravery takes ahold of you. ‘Please, Feyd, I want you.’
You delight at the fire that ignites in his eyes upon your words. He wastes no time in returning to your side, dropping a sweet tasting kiss to your lips before taking your chin in his hand, eyes searching yours as he sits between your thighs.
‘Tell me if you want to stop,’ he says. ‘Yes?’
‘Yes,’ you echo, blood heating your cheeks.
Feyd kisses you again, giving you time to rescind your reply if you want, but you just tug at the hem of his shirt, drinking in his sculpted chest when he pulls the black cloth over his head. Delicately, he trails his lips down your skin as he undresses you, his broad hands warm where they encircle your waist, holding you flush to him as his calloused palms explore your body, skimming over your spine and caressing your breasts before settling on your thighs and pulling them open.
You’re terribly aware of how wet you are when his eyes settle on your pussy. Instinctively, your knees tip inwards, your face growing hot at the hunger in his gaze, but his broad shoulders block your legs from closing, followed closely by his hands which gently push them back open. He smiles at the blush high on your cheeks, rubbing his thumb over your ankle in order to put you at ease.
The sound you make when he pushes his fingers into your cunt and curls them almost makes Feyd moan. You tremble for him, bashful, and he can feel himself rock hard against the mattress, aching for the tight clamp of your velvet walls. He wants to bury himself between your thighs, and so he does, your sweet slick exquisite on his tongue - he presses kisses like butterflies to your thighs, your hips, worshipping you as his fingers pump in and out of you to the same pace as your heaving chest.
You look beautiful, gilded by the sunlight, lower lip trapped between your teeth, but he doesn’t miss the way you grip the sheets with one hand, the other clapped over your mouth, panting as he pleases you. Stroking your thigh, he pauses, licking your slick off his lips.
‘Let me hear you,’ he bids.
You blush again but obey him, tremors wracking your body as he sucks on your clit, laving his tongue over it until you throw your head back, eyes rolling as you come, your honeyed moans and hot release exquisite upon his senses. He wants more, needs more of the taste of you, but you tug at his shoulders, whining for his cock, and he’d rather die than deny you.
The way you say his name when he buries himself inside you sets his soul on fire. You look beautiful beneath him, shaking and whimpering from the hot pulse of his length, clawing at his shoulders until he wears red marks that he’s proud to bear, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you. It seems you cannot get enough of him, and Feyd is more than fine with that because he finds himself addicted to the feel of you under his hands, begging him for more.
Feyd remains entranced long after he comes inside you, with you, your cunt spasming around him. You draw close to him, intertwining your legs with his as he kisses your face, your neck, your chest, making sure he has not hurt you, making sure you are sated. Curling your fingers under his jaw, stopping him, you look him in the eye and smile before kissing him, and he finds himself mesmerised again by you.
He is certain you will let him love you. He is yours.
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