#soldier = homeworld

[ourflagmeansworms]

Giles is a bi metafore

Rupert Giles and Ethan Rayne were so exes and I feel like this isn't nearly as mainstream interpretation as it should be. The man is bi guys. And he's such a bi metafore. Never really felt like he belonged amongst the watcher crowd (other heterosexuals) and he's just not. Dark magic, heavy music, his youth gets written off as a phase and that isn't fully true. Giles seems so by the book and scholarly until you actually see the other watchers and see what a rebel he truly is, how even his way of being a watcher challenges the intuitional norm.

[meangreennunseen]

My love towards this weird wall dwelling man is always growing 💙

[the-force-awakens]

you know instead of the middling "leia can't stand amilyn because she's ~weird~" vaguely ableist angle poa took, lucasfilm should have utterly committed to the bit and made them both the weirdest little girls.

[sansaorgana]

— 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

[dindjarindiaries]

Damn Good Drinks

summary: An unfortunate mistake rewards you with a fortunate encounter, and this undercover soldier is nothing like you could have expected.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: meet-cute, alcohol mentions/consumption, mentions of harassment, flirting, suggestiveness, protective hunter, one (1) gratuitous steamy kiss, tech is always at the scene of the crime, pre-tcw s7

rating: T

word count: 3.556k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

It was another rowdy crowd tonight. You really should’ve known, considering the fact that the tourist season was nearly upon your town already. With the war still raging on in the galaxy, people were flocking here by the hundreds, eager to get away from the conflict on their own homeworlds.

You heaved a sigh as you carefully balanced the tray of drinks you’d just collected from the bar. Wrestling your way through these crowds was far from your favorite thing to do, but it was better than being stuck behind the bar itself for countless hours. It was, ironically, safer this way, too. Not that you could ever fully escape the wandering eyes, comments, and even the touches, but the freedom to run or fight if necessary was a comfort nonetheless.

Pitiful little excuse mes wouldn’t do you any good out here, so you simply announced your presence by jutting your elbows and shoulders into the people you were trying to pass. You could at least finally see the table you were heading for, which was a gift in a crowd this thick, especially at such a late hour.

You were just thinking about how excited you were to finally go home for the night when you suddenly heard a commotion beside you.

“Hey, watch where’ur goin’!”

“No, you watch it!”

You rolled your eyes. There was nothing quite like a classic ego-off. Hopefully, they both lost—and hopefully, they kept you out of it.

But you should’ve known better than to think you’d actually have good luck with that.

The guy closest to you got shoved by the other, and the timing couldn’t have been worse. Caught in the crossfire, you were also shoved right into something solid, hard enough to make every drink on your tray splatter on you and whatever, or whoever, you’d run into.

Unfortunately, you were in the center of the cantina, so it couldn’t have been a wall. It had to have been a person, a patron who was most likely going to want to fight you, now.

You were about to curse the pair of egotistical maniacs out when you suddenly realized the person you’d run into was steadying you with a hand on your elbow and another on your opposite arm.

“You alright?”

You spun around to face them, but you were too distracted by the fact that nearly the entire front of their white shirt was now stained in the purple hue of one of the drinks you’d been carrying. 

You let out a worried gasp and reached from the rag you kept tucked into your pocket. “I’m so sorry, sir! Let me get that for you.” As you tried your best to dry and blot out the stain in the patron’s shirt, you couldn’t help muttering in contempt. “Kriffing boys spilling some damn good drinks over a pointless ego battle…”

You only stopped when you realized that your efforts were to no avail; this poor person’s shirt was stained for good. You let out a sigh, but the breath got caught in your throat when you blinked a few times and realized exactly what, or who, you were looking at.

You weren’t trying to ogle this man, you really weren’t, but it was hard when the first thing your eyes were stuck to was the sight of the now-transparent fabric of his sleeveless tunic clinging to perhaps the most toned set of muscles you had ever seen before in your life.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the more you observed, the more you were convinced that you weren’t actually being hyperbolic.

The man’s face was just as sculpted as the rest of him, though half his face was cast in the dark shadow of what looked like a giant skull tattoo, matching the one that was printed on his red bandana. That matched the scarf hung around his neck, fabric that his dark, shoulder-length hair was brushing against. He still had his hands on you, which were wrapped up to his elbows in a light-colored fabric, but the touch was soft enough to indicate that he meant no harm.

Thank the Force that the last thing you caught were his eyes, because you wouldn’t have been able to look away if you’d done that first.

“‘Damn good drinks,’ huh?” The corners of the man’s mouth started to rise as his brown gaze flickered over you. “Do they taste as good as they look on you?”

Your brow shot up at that. Maybe it was the mere fact you were attracted to him, or that you couldn’t sense any ill intent like you could with the others, but you weren’t disgusted by his advances.

No, they made the temperature in the room rise to a really dangerous height.

You returned the once-over and offered a thoughtful hum. “Maybe, but they definitely don’t taste as good as they look on you, so don’t be too disappointed.” You huffed and focused on righting the capsized cups on your tray. “Can I get you one as a token of apology?”

The man shifted slightly in front of you, and with a quick glance, you realized he was blocking you from getting hit by another shove that came from a new direction. He absorbed the movement as if it were nothing. You furrowed your brow, watching as his arms and shoulders barely flexed at the motion.

Suddenly, you were realizing that this had to be the body of a soldier. But he obviously wasn’t a droid, and he certainly didn’t look like a clone…

“You don’t owe me an apology.” He nodded, making the stray hairs that stuck out of his bandana bounce against his forehead. “Wasn’t really my brightest idea to wear a white shirt to a place like this, anyway.”

You chuckled and shrugged. “Well, thank the Force you did.” You winked and gestured with your head towards the bar. “Can I still get you that drink, anyway?”

He smiled. “Sure. I’ve got some time to kill.”

You looked down when warmth started to rush into the tips of your ears. That downward glance could only last a moment, because soon, you had to shove your way through the rowdy crowd. Amazingly, though, they started to part much more easily for you, and it only took a quick look behind you to realize why.

This man was just about shoving everyone aside and casting warning glances to anyone who dared to react to it. Even just the way he was walking screamed danger to a potential opponent.

He was definitely a soldier, but for who or what, you weren’t sure. At this point, you really didn’t care, because your heart was speaking a lot louder than your brain when it came to him.

You brought him to the furthest edge of the bar, a private enough corner where you could get behind it and make him a drink yourself. You’d still have to remake the ones you spilled, but if you were being honest, that wasn’t really your biggest priority right now. They could wait a few extra minutes.

“So…” you stole a glance up at him, “you got a name?”

He huffed and rested his wrapped forearms upon the bartop, leaning forward enough for you to hear him over the din of the rowdy patrons. “You can just call me Hunter.”

You hummed and stared more than you really had to at the cups you tossed between your hands. “Is that what you are?”

“A bounty hunter?” He scoffed. “Have I made that bad of an impression on you already?”

You laughed at that. Only someone operating under some kind of honor code would have such a strong distaste for bounty hunters. You had no doubt now that you knew what he was.

“Then what’s a soldier like you doing out here, so far away from the front lines?”

“Who says I’m a soldier?”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t know, Hunter. Maybe it’s the giant tactical pack you’ve got slung on your back, or those heavily-trained arms you’ve clearly put on display.”

A light sparkled in Hunter’s eyes as the corners of his lips rose in a subtle smirk. “You seem to know a lot about arms.”

You returned his mischievous smile. “Only because I like staring at yours.” You nodded towards his stained shirt. “You want the drink that was spilled on you, or the one that got on me?”

Hunter looked down at himself and circled his jaw. He shrugged before he lifted his head and met your gaze again. “You choose.”

You considered his words for a moment as you searched his eyes. In the lighting of the bar, they glowed more amber, which only made them even more captivating. You fought not to lose yourself within them as you ultimately nodded. “Alright.”

You focused on getting all the right ingredients together, all the while sensing the heat of his gaze on you. Fighting back another smile, you decided to question him further.

“Care to explain why you don’t look like a clone when you clearly are one?”

“So long as you tell me why your heart’s beating so fast.”

That gave you pause. He was right—your heart hadn’t stopped hammering against your chest ever since you got your first good look at him—but there was no way he would know that without feeling your pulse himself, or at least taking a strangely accurate guess.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you gripped the glass and shaker tighter in your hands. “How would you even know that?”

Hunter’s brow lifted. “Would you call me crazy if I told you that it actually answers your first question?”

You relaxed again and gave him a nod. “Fine, you’ve got my interest.” You tried to calm your racing heart, if only out of spite.

“I’m an enhanced clone. My squad and I were each given different traits that are ‘desirable’ in soldiers.”

You spared him a single glance. Thankfully, he didn’t look uncomfortable discussing this. That wasn’t your end goal, even if you did at least want to know what you were getting yourself into. “And what does that have to do with my heartbeat?”

Hunter chuckled. “Well, I’m named after my enhancement.”

As you shook the concoction inside the mixer, you pondered his words. A hunter, and a heartbeat…  and shoving people aside before they’d even come close to you…

“You’re telling me you can… hear my heartbeat?”

Hunter’s head bobbed. “In a way.” He tapped his fingers along the bartop. “Enhanced senses. My strong suit is electromagnetic frequencies, but I can pick up on some organic things, too.” He nodded at you. “The louder a heartbeat, the easier it is for me to hear it.”

You pretended to scowl for the sake of your dignity as you strained the drink into his glass. “Yeah, well, it’s hard not to have a racing heart in a place like this.”

Hunter hummed. “That’s fair.” He gestured with a thumb to the crowds behind him. “Is it always like this?”

You exhaled heavily and shook your head. “It wasn’t before, but the longer the war goes on, the worse it gets. We’re an escape for a lot of people, it seems.”

You picked up the glass and slid it over to him.

“Here. Let me know what you think.”

Before you could pull your hand off the glass, Hunter placed his there, his fingers brushing yours as they drifted by one another. You caught his stare, and you could’ve sworn he sent you the quickest wink you’d ever seen before he drew his first sip.

And there went all chances of slowing down your racing heart. He was certainly gonna notice that with his apparent enhanced senses. Damn it.

You tasked yourself with remaking the other patrons’ drinks while Hunter offered his review. “It is damn good.” He shrugged in your periphery. “But still not as good as it looks on you.”

You laughed. “Well, that’s because it’s the one I spilled on you.” You spared him a quick glance of approval. “So something must be wrong with your ‘enhanced’ taste buds.”

You enjoyed watching him hide his new flush by taking another sip of the drink, but the weight of his identity was beginning to settle in. A clone soldier, an enhanced one, was here. That had to mean the war wouldn’t be far behind.

“Since you’re here,” you paused for a second as you shook another drink, “does that mean I should be getting ready for the war to come to my doorstep?”

Hunter grew more serious as he shook his head. “No. You’re safe here.” He gestured towards the cantina’s only entrance. “We’re just gathering some intel.”

“‘We’?” You smiled down at the drinks. “So, that squad of yours is around here, too?”

“Not here, but yeah, they’re on-world.”

With the drinks now finished, you set them on the tray and took a second to look Hunter in the eye. There was something here, and there was a lot he was giving you—and you needed to know what the real reasoning was behind it.

“Why are you telling me all this, Hunter?” You tilted your head at him. “Seems like pretty confidential information for a random civilian like me to know.”

Hunter held your stare even as he tipped his head back to empty out the rest of his glass. Once he was done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m a good judge of character.”

You blinked at him a few times before smiling. What a simple yet profound way of establishing trust.

Thankfully for him, he was right, and any of his secrets would die with you.

“Well, I’ve got to get these back over there, so…” You lifted the tray and glanced at the table at the far end of the cantina.

Hunter nodded and pushed himself off the bartop. You prepared to bid him farewell, but instead, he lingered. “I’ll clear a path for you this time.”

All you could muster was an appreciative glance before Hunter stepped forward and essentially pushed your way through the crowd. No one even got near you this time, certainly not close enough to make the drinks topple over. Hunter hung back once you eventually reached the table, and you quietly thanked him as you passed him.

“Here you are.” You kept your customer service voice engaged as you dealt out the drinks and smiled. “Sorry about the wait. It’s a bit crazy here tonight.”

The patrons just shrugged, clearly unaware of the extra few minutes you spent flirting with the enhanced clone trooper rather than making their drinks. You tucked the tray under your arm and turned around, surprised to see that Hunter was still there waiting for you.

You gave him another once-over. That drink stain on his shirt really stuck out like a bantha in a porg nest, if it was even possible for anyone’s eyes to get past his eyes, face, and arms.

The look he was giving you in return was either saying the same thing about your clothes or something very different, a little more similar to what you wanted him to be thinking.

“You know,” you took a step closer to him, “we should have some extra tunics from our uniforms in the back if you want one to cover…” you gazed down at his stain, “that.”

Hunter’s gaze glowed dangerously. “Oh, yeah?”

You nodded slowly. “I mean, we could at least check.”

Hunter smirked as he echoed your question from earlier. “We’?”

You waved him off. “It’s too crazy here tonight for anyone to care that you’re back there.”

Hunter shrugged. Apparently, he was easily convinced. “Alright. Where’re we headed?”

You pointed at a door on the back wall, and Hunter nodded before he pushed through the crowd once again. At this point, it was hard to imagine that he wasn’t listening to your heart practically flying through your chest. You didn’t even know why this was happening, especially so fast, but you had to echo Hunter’s earlier sentiment: you were a good judge of character.

What was one stolen moment with an enhanced clone trooper?

Hunter stepped aside to let you key in the passcode on the doorway of the storage room, and once it slid open, you led the way inside. After verifying that you were alone, you waved Hunter in. The door closed behind him, and after securing it, you turned to him.

It would’ve been impossible to get a good look at him in the dimness of the space, anyway, but you were both gravitating to each other before any looks could be given. You cupped his chiseled jaw at the exact moment he held your waist, closing the gap between the two of you and giving into the magnetic pull that had first forced you two together in the night’s rowdy crowds.

And you had never been more grateful for two egotistical maniacs’ stupid quarrel before.

Hunter kissed you like he’d known you for ages, exuding a breathless amount of passion that should’ve been impossible for a soldier as seasoned as himself. All you could do was try to match that energy, parting your lips and surely making a mess of the hair he clearly wanted to grow beyond what you assumed was regulation. You let one hand stay there, but the other was too curious, tracing the same lines of muscle your eyes had been beholden to ever since you first saw him.

During a quick break for air, you pulled back until you hit the wall behind you, this time urging him even closer than before. The second his mouth was on yours, you lost all sense of anything else, only able to think about the warmth you found there—and the feeling of his hips caressing yours in the very same rhythm.

You weren’t sure exactly how those senses of his worked, but somehow, he was igniting every single one of yours in a way you’d never experienced before.

You were in the middle of lowering your hands from his neck to seek a more fervent exploration when he caught both your wrists, holding them in an achingly gentle yet firm grasp as he lifted them over your own head. When he pushed himself into you even more intensely, his tongue in your mouth and his hips on yours, you could feel it so much more without being distracted by touching the rest of him.

Yeah, this was definitely a man who understood senses.

You were stuck between proposing and offering him all your possessions when the sudden chiming of a comlink sounded from Hunter’s belt. The two of you broke apart with heavy breaths, his forehead still close enough to yours for you to feel the wisps of his hair brushing against your skin as he clearly fought the urge to sigh.

“Sorry. Give me just a second.”

Hunter’s voice, which was already fairly rough as it was, was even rougher from your passionate moment as he released your wrists and stepped away. You couldn’t have stopped watching him even if you wanted to as he unclipped the comlink and activated it.

“Tech, report.”

“I have acquired the necessary data.” You raised your brow at the voice that spoke on the other end of Hunter’s comm. They sounded even less like a clone than Hunter himself did. “We may make our egress, unless there is any additional research you wish to pursue.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a loose end I want to tie up.” You scoffed at that. Loose end? “We'll meet back at the Marauder.”

“Affirmative.”

Hunter sighed as he set the comlink back on his belt. “Sorry about that.” He ran a hand over his head. “Duty calls.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Gotta’ tie up your loose end, now.”

Hunter froze before he let out a heavy exhale. “Kriff, that sounded bad, didn’t it?”

You couldn’t help laughing. “Hey, you’ve done better than most by catching it so fast.”

Hunter chuckled and stepped back over to you. “Here.”

He took something from his belt and reached for your hand, setting it inside your palm and closing your fist around it. It was something circular and metallic, judging by how cool it was against your skin.

“To keep in touch.” Hunter nodded at you. “Next time, the drink’s on me.”

“It was technically already on you this time.” You gestured with your eyes to his stained shirt.

Hunter huffed with amusement. “You know what I mean.”

You smiled at him. “Sure.”

You opened the door for him, and he stopped to give you a wink you wouldn’t miss this time before he disappeared into the thick of the crowd. You leaned your shoulder against the threshold, staring down at the communicator in your grasp. Biting back a smile, you slipped it inside your pocket.

Maybe there was an advantage to the war getting a little closer, after all.

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020 @singularattitudeofasafetypin

[cauliflowercounty]

Knives Dance (Part II)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

Summary: You and your father address your people to quell the seeds of unrest on Youra.  Realizing the resolute dedication of your people, Baron Vladimir begins to conspire against you and your homeworld, something you and Feyd will not take lying down when you put a plan of your own in motion.

Warnings: visceral imagery, more death, reader goes a little mental 

Word Count: 6.0k

Part I | Part II | Part III

Breaking your kiss reluctantly, Feyd looks around at the twenty some odd soldiers you’ve both just killed, exhilaration and admiration for you still coursing through his veins.   “I’m sorry to do this, but I must ask something of you, Feyd,” you say, looking down at both of your garments saturated in blood. 

“Anything,” he responds without a second thought. He knows he means it.  

“You must not let anyone know what I showed you or that I was fighting alongside you tonight.” You walk over and pick up your second blade that Feyd tossed away, strapping it back to your thigh along with the other one.  Next, you collect Ozran’s knife and hand it to Feyd. It’s light and flimsy in his grasp compared to your daggers, truly a laughable excuse for a murder weapon.  An animal being killed for supper deserves to be killed by a better blade than this. You fasten your cloak back onto your person, and it consumes your body again, making it seem as if you hadn’t just butchered half the dead around you. “These are my best kept secrets. You must say that it was you who killed all of our attackers.”

“Of course,” he replies, and you press a soft kiss on his lips in thanks.  As soon as he leans in to kiss you back, approaching footsteps become audible.  It’s your father, the baron, and a fleet of Youran guards with their weapons drawn.

“Let’s give them a little show, shall we?” you whisper against his lips. As soon as they come into view, Feyd feels you fall into his arms, spotting delicate tears collecting on lower lashes. He brings his arms around you, cradling your figure as you sink to the ground and begin quaking in his embrace, which makes his heart twinge. 

Your father calls out to you, aghast as he spots the dead bodies surrounding you and Feyd.  The look on your father’s face is as if he’s worried you might turn to dust. He kneels beside you, taking you out of Feyd’s arms and into his own. “We heard commotion from the castle and came as quickly as we could. Are you injured, my darling child?  What happened?” 

“F-Father, I am alright, ” you quiver, breath shaky as you lean into him.  “It was so scary, though! Na-Baron and I were on a nighttime stroll, and suddenly a poisoned dart flew out of nowhere and nearly hit me.  When we looked over to see where it came from, Ozran was approaching us with a wild look in his eyes.” You’re sobbing into your Father’s chest at this point, tear stains soaking into your father’s clothes, and Feyd cannot help but be impressed by your theatrics.  “Ozran said he was unhappy with our dealings with House Harkonnen. He meant to kill us to make a point, but Na-Baron courageously disarmed Ozran and struck him down. As soon as that happened, Ozran’s loyalists began to strike, but they were no match for Na-Baron.”

Hearing those words, Feyd sees his uncle lift his chin up in pride, delighting in the thought of Feyd emerging victorious over twenty, killing in cold blood. Your father lets out a sigh of relief, pulling you closer in his arms as he holds the back of your head.  “It’s alright, y/n. You are still alive, and Ozran cannot hurt you any longer,” he whispers before looking up to Feyd.  “Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. I am most grateful. Thank you for saving my daughter from those criminals.  I am in your debt.”

Feyd sees his Uncle’s eyes glimmer with excitement.  Your father shouldn’t have said that.  His uncle never passed up an opportunity to prey on those indebted to the Harkonnens. Before, Feyd also enjoyed the manipulation of other peoples, but now that his uncle has his sights set on you, a growing sense of unease begins to build, and he can’t bring himself to look at his uncle. 

“It was my honor to fight for your daughter tonight,” Feyd replies. “I am glad I was here to protect her life, and I would do the same again.”

Your father brings you to your feet, your cloak still concealing your stained battle gear underneath.  You bring the back of your hand up to wipe away your tears, letting out a meek sniffle.  Feyd keeps trying to remind himself that what you’re doing is just and act, a way of protecting your secrets from his devious uncle, but Feyd’s chest continues to ache seeing you cry. If he had his way, nothing would make you shed a tear ever again.

“If there were this many attackers tonight, that means we have unrest on our hands. There are sure to be more of them.”  your father says, turning to one of the soldiers. “Call the citizens to the castle, and prepare the thrones.”  

“Yes, My Lord,” the guard says, turning on his heel and hurrying away, and Feyd watches as he disappears.

“I do hope this does not mean the marriage will be called off,” Baron Vladimir interjects with a leading stare at your father.  Your father shakes his head straight away. 

“Of course not, Baron.  I value our alliance.  We will handle our people. I assure you, the marriage will happen on Giedi Prime,” your father says as the sound of a horn reverberates across the island nation.  “Would you be present for the address tonight?”

His uncle obliges, and the guards guide everyone through the winding hallways.  After a few minutes, they exit the fortress through another set of doors, and the group emerges onto an enormous stone platform overlooking an open basin lined with towering columns. Two grand thrones stand in the middle of the platform: one for you and one for your father.  Instead of stone like their surroundings, they’re made of thick, twisty branches of a rich, dark wood that have grown into the shape of chairs.  It’s almost as if these chairs were borne out of the very nature on the island.

Feyd looks down to the land below the platform.  People are quickly gathering below at a remarkable rate.  He sees citizens emerging from all directions from the surrounding mountain range.  Multiple cable cars whose lines stretch from inside the forest to the basin approach. Light shines outward from the compartments, and Feyd sees they’re positively filled with people. When the cars meet the ground, the stained glass doors open and people flow out and into the crowd while others run across the wooden bridges out from under the trees. 

Your father beckons all of you forward once the crowd has amassed.  When you and your father come into the people’s view, there is a roar of cheers.  Feyd sees people start to raise their hands and clap for you as the crowd begins a melodic chanting of “House Ronen!  House Ronen!”  The way they rally for their leaders is earnest and true, a sight to behold. 

You take a seat at your throne as your father does.  You gesture to Feyd to come stand behind your chair and the baron floats beside your father’s throne.  When the crowd spots the Harkonnens, some of the cheers turn to murmurs, which rumble through the group as more people begin to whisper to one another.  Your father raises his palm to the people, and they fall silent.

“Thank you, my dear friends, for coming at this hour.  I would not have called you if I didn’t think it was important,” your father’s voice booms.  “We have something very important to tell you tonight."

He gestures over to you and you rise from your seat and step forward, once again holding your cape closed.  The armed guards advance on the sidelines, holding their weapons at their sides to protect you.  You pause and gaze out at your people before centering yourself, holding your head high with poise appropriate for a lady of your stature. 

“I would like to echo my father’s thanks for your time and presence,” you begin, your voice collected and commanding.  “Not an hour ago, there was an attempt at my life at the Pools of Ashora.” A wave of disbelief propagates through the crowd.  Some cup their hand to their mouths and others begin to whisper to their neighbors. A few let out roars of anger, but Feyd swears he sees a few snigger at the news.

 “Twenty men led by researcher Ozran Neyru ambushed me and Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen tonight.  As you can see, the endeavor to end my life was unsuccessful. During the attack, Ozran told me he and the others were motivated because of my upcoming marriage to Na-Baron Harkonnen, that their belief is I am betraying our ideals by allowing the House of Harkonnen into our circle.  I do not doubt there are others that feel the same as him, and I have come to offer you an explanation, which I feel you all deserve.”

There are nods through the crowd.  Some seem undeniably compelled with your speech while others cross their arms with skepticism. You glance over to your father, gestures with his hand for you to proceed. 

“I have lived on Youra all of my life.  It is my homeland, and a place I care deeply for. When I was seven, I drank from the sacred pool on top of our great mountain, and when I was sixteen, I had my own Rite like each of you.  I know what being Youran is because I have lived it from the moment I took my first breath. I’ve grown up knowing our stories and our traditions, and I love the society we’ve been able to build.

“Looking out upon you tonight under the glow of the lanterns, I think of the tale of Zeyred, who was the first to release lanterns at nighttime to guide the souls of our departed to their final destination amongst the stars after he mistook a shooting star for the soul of his dead mother.  Zeyred used what he thought was the truth and created a wonderful tradition in order to help loved ones on their final journey.  Since then, we have left behind the notion that souls go to the stars once life is over, but we still release lanterns every night to pay our respect for him and the Yourans of his time.  It reminds ourselves of where we come from.” 

Feyd sees an air of nostalgia wash over the crowd and a few clutch their hearts, admiration growing in their eyes as you recount the traditional Youran folktale. 

“This practice of using truth for the betterment of others is ancient, but it still remains the lifeblood of Youra today. By seeking truth in our collective research, we’ve developed elixirs that have eliminated diseases that have historically killed many. We’ve found ways to protect our crops from failure. We’ve made advances in engineering to improve our ships and travel around our planet and beyond, broadening our quest for knowledge. By following truth, our quality of life on Youra has improved because of the choices our predecessors have made more than any of us alive today will ever know or appreciate.  We’ve found countless ways of providing for and protecting others.”  Mumbles of agreement echo from below. Some nod their heads to one another. The citizenry is certainly taking to your argument, and Feyd is in awe of your eloquence and composure. 

“Tonight, I have witnessed an undeniable truth: the prowess of House Harkonnen. I have seen strength, valor, and loyalty in Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, without whom I would not be standing here in front of you. As a woman of Youra, I put my faith in what is real, which is why I am putting my faith in the House of Harkonnen.

“This union is not a departure from our ideals.  If anything, it is a commitment to them. It is my way of protecting you.  It will strengthen our society by putting us under the wing of the greatest major house and those we care for is simply getting a little larger. I have made this decision for the betterment of all of us. I ask you to join me in the celebration of this union when I depart for Giedi Prime.” 

The crowd erupts in cheers as you let out gasp in amazement at the overwhelming support by your people. Even the soldiers around you raise their weapons to the sky in support. You bow to your nation, thanking them for their time.  Some of the people in the crowd begin to chant Feyd’s name, thanking him for saving their beloved Lady, which catches him by surprise. Your father claps at your address, and Feyd joins him in applause, commending your efforts.

The people are dismissed and the Youran soldiers guide Feyd and the others back into the castle. As the group is safely indoors, you grasp one of Feyd’s hands on your own and press a kiss on his closest cheek and lean in to whisper “Thank you, Feyd.”  

As you pull back, you and your father bow to the Harkonnens before you return to your quarters, still encircled by guards.  Watching you disappear behind a corridor, Feyd notices his heart longing for your company. He thinks of the way you two moved in perfect sync during your fight.  The fiery look in your eyes during the battle was thrilling to behold. His mind lingers on you as he reminisces about the feeling he had of bolts of lightning shooting through his veins when you kissed him.  Just as soon as he's entranced, he’s ripped out of his fantasy by his uncle’s fingers clenched around his shoulder.

“Come,” his uncle orders, and Feyd follows as they return to the guest wing of the fortress.  The walk to the guest wing is eerily silent.  All that can be heard is footsteps and the gentle whirring and occasional clicks that come from his uncle’s medical contraptions.  His uncle beckons him into his own quarters after the guards bid them goodnight.  The baron floats into the room while instructing Feyd to close the door behind him.

This guest suite is an exact replica of the one Feyd is staying in. The walls are covered in painstakingly crafted tapestries and the furniture is made of a red-brown wood with a bold grain that looks like billows of smoke. An entire wall is a floor to ceiling window that leads to a balcony which overlooks the ocean.  The soft reflection of the moonlight from the water’s surface streams through the window, illuminating half of the baron’s face in a stark white light while the other is cast in a sinister shadow. His uncle calls Feyd closer, and he obeys. 

“Well done, Feyd,” is the first thing his uncle says to him in a low voice.  “The Yourans may still be outside, so we must be quiet.” Feyd nods to his uncle in understanding as he notices his uncle’s unbridled grin, the one he only has when he’s plotted something truly heinous.  “The Yourans are weaker than I ever imagined.  I knew they were a society of wisdom, but I never expected them to leave themselves so… vulnerable.” The baron’s eyes are now ablaze with savagery. Saying the words out loud has lit the flames of cruelty that burns in his soul. “The fact that you killed twenty of them in the time between us hearing the attack and arriving in the courtyard single handedly is a true testament to their sheer mediocrity.  I shall reward you when we are back on Giedi Prime.  How about another mistress this time? I will ensure she’s properly broken for you.”

I don’t want your praise. I don’t want your gifts, Old Man, Feyd thinks, resisting the urge to grab ahold of his uncle’s neck, strangle him, and feel his trachea shatter under his thumbs.

“I was originally frustrated at you, Feyd.  I wondered why you simply didn’t allow them to kill her, but you’ve done well, despite your lack of foresight. We will not have to take the planet by force. Now we have a way to win over the people of Youra, and they will soon be ours. Lady Ronen is foolish.  She thinks their principles will keep them safe, but their dedication to their values will be their downfall.”

Feyd conceals his clenched fist from his uncle’s view as he collects himself.  He must not be rash.  Instead, he suppresses his emotions, and he asks his uncle “What are you proposing?” 

“We take her to Giedi Prime, and once the marriage is sealed, I want you to kill her.”  Those words make Feyd’s blood run cold. Kill you?  After everything that’s happened? After the fear of losing you had already struck his heart once today? Feyd will not allow it.  “We shall tell them it was natural.” The Baron continues with a venomous tone. “…and that it was her dying wish for her people to honor our alliance.” The baron grins, bearing his inky, black teeth.  Frightening images of your dead body crumpled on the glossy black floors of Giedi Prime flash in Feyd’s mind with your beautiful eyes blank and unseeing, which makes his head begin to spin. “You saw how they rallied around her tonight. They are so dedicated to her that they will honor her wishes even in death. The planet Youra will be ours, Feyd. We will take the bounty of their work to Arrakis where we will kill Muad'dib, and the House of Harkonnen will emerge victorious.”

With that, the baron shoos his nephew out of the room.  On the other side of the door, Feyd balls his fists and clenches his teeth so tightly it’s a wonder they haven’t cracked under the pressure.  Instead of returning to his quarters, he walks through the corridors of the palace straight to yours, trying to hold his breath steady as the bile within him threatens to pour over.  Outside of your room, there are armed guards keeping watch over the entrance.  One knocks at the door when he requests to see you and slips inside once you permit the guard entrance. 

Moments later, you emerge at the door. You’ve cleaned up since he last saw you and you’re no longer in your cloak and battle gear.  Instead, you wear a light, flowy nightdress that hugs your waist and reflects the moonlight exquisitely. You reach out to Feyd and bring his hands together near your chest.  Feyd’s heart skips and you raise yourself up on your toes to kiss him in earnest.  He sighs into the softness of your lips. Having you so close and being graced by your touch is one of the greatest privileges he has ever received. As you break away, there’s a look of concern on your face.

“Would you like to come inside?” you ask him softly and he nods.  As soon as he enters, you close the door and lock it behind you.  He lets out a frustrated hiss, finally able to express his frustration as he sits down in an armchair chair and rests his elbows on his thighs. He his head in his hands in frustration. “What’s wrong, Feyd?”

“My uncle is plotting.  He wishes for me to murder you after we wed. He thinks you weak and your people impressionable,” Feyd seethes, closing his eyes and running his hands along the back of his neck.  “I couldn’t ever bring myself to do that to you, but I know my uncle.  If I don’t do it, he will have someone who doesn't care for you like I do carry out the deed instead. He plans to take control of your planet and your people when you are gone.”

For the first time in years, Feyd feels like he’s on the verge of tears, something that the baron had him beaten for until his bones shattered when Feyd was a child.  He has only just found you.  You’ve begun to heal his heart and put the light back in his eyes.  You’ve shown him unwarranted kindness and let him bask in your affections.  You’ve given him someone to fight for, and just as soon as he’s found his salvation in you, it’s about to be taken from him.  Bringing your thumb up to his cheek, you wipe the small droplet that threatens to spill over away.

“Do not worry, my love,” you whisper to him, taking the opportunity to gently nuzzle his neck, and he sinks into your embrace.  “Please dry your eyes.”

“We have to get rid of him. We need a plan,” Feyd says with conviction, and you nod. As he looks up at you, his worries seem to fade when he senses your fortitude.  You support his cheek with your delicate touch and stare into his eyes.  Behind your irises he sees a glint of devilishness. 

“I know of a way, Feyd.  We’ll silence Baron Vladimir, and in the end, we will install you as the ruler of Giedi Prime. You will be Feyd-Rautha, Baron of the House of Harkonnen.”

–

The people of Youra come to see you off in droves as you depart for the wedding. Everyone is dressed in their very best as they watch you precess toward the Harkonnen vessel accompanied by your father, the baron, and your bodyguards.  Some parents have brought their children to catch a glimpse of you as you depart, the young Yourans perched on their parents’ shoulders to get a better view of you.  You wave to them, and the children smile excitedly when you acknowledge them. Feyd marvels at your people's continued love and affection for you as he offers his arm to you. The Baron glances over to Feyd as the citizens cheer for you, nearly drooling at the prospect of dominating this society. Feyd looks away from his uncle as you take his arm, his determination rising. He will not permit his uncle’s scheme to go to fruition.

Under Giedi Prime’s black sun, the wedding proceeds as planned by Baron Vladimir.  The entirety of Giedi Prime’s populace gathers to watch the union of Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha and the Lady of House Ronen. You wed each other in front of the crowd for all to see, wearing Harkonnen garb next to the baron and your father. Feyd cannot look away from you.  You are beautiful in every way.  The dress seems to hang delightfully on every curve of your physique. The long sleeves that extend just beyond your wrists conform to the shape of your arms perfectly. The rectangular cutout filled with sheer mesh placed perfectly over your breastbone is something Feyd cannot help but stare at.  The splendor is so befitting of your stature, and all he can think of is him and his Baroness ruling Giedi Prime together one day. 

You and Feyd each receive a necklace of dark stone plates from his uncle, marking your marriage.  Feyd grasps your body firmly as he kisses you, his mind consumed with you and you alone as he cups your waist. You are finally his to have and to hold, and how wonderful that is to him. The crowd chants for Feyd when he raises your intertwined fingers for the crowd to see.  The people exalt him, and the baron smiles from the sidelines as the alliance is sealed. 

During the celebratory banquet, you and Feyd make careful effort to keep you away from the baron, lest he has other plans for you.  The night goes on, the fireworks inky in the air and Harkonnen music playing to the late hours.  As the lights fade and the diplomats go home, you bid your father goodbye, promising you will return to Youra soon. As his ship disappears into the night, Feyd comes to stand next to you. It’s almost time. You’ve been summoned to the baron’s personal chambers. You and Feyd walk in silence to the baron’s room through the empty halls.  Outside the door that separates the two of you and the baron, there are no guards. 

“It’s a trap,” you mouth to Feyd, careful to not make any noise.  He gives you the smallest nod in agreement.  Luring his victims into a false sense of security is something the baron always loved to do.  Once they thought they were safe, the baron would turn their relief into agony and despair, relishing the emotional differential, torturing them until they begged for death after which he would oblige. Luckily, you and Feyd both know better, and you’ve come prepared.

Together, you both press one of your palms on one of the double doors and push them open. The room is inky black inside, only lit by horizontal strips of lighting.  In the center sits the baron in a tub of viscous black sludge. Proceeding slowly, Feyd sees you mark every object in the room, creating a mental log for yourself.  Nobody else is in the room.  It’s just the baron in his tub. 

“Welcome Feyd and Na-Baroness,” the baron says, taking a puff from his pipe as he leans backward in his tub. You both approach him, but are careful to distance yourself from the tub. “I wanted to congratulate you both on your marriage.  Our people seem quite enthralled with you, na-Baroness,” the baron comments before clicking his tongue and taking another huff. “I- We wanted to present you with a gift to welcome you to our House.”

The Baron gestures for Feyd to come closer, and he obeys as the baron extends his arm to gesture at a black box that sits near the edge of his tub. The Baron raps his fingers on the box once as his eyes maliciously dart between it and Feyd. Feyd knows what this box is.  Inside are his poisoned knives.  As Feyd looks at the box, he can hear his uncle’s voice from the night on Youra in his mind: “Kill her!”  

Looking back toward the doorway, two Harkonnen soldiers, armed with the barbs they use to subdue slaves in gladiatorial fights, have silently entered the room with their weapons drawn.  Their stances are wide.  When they step, they shift side to side, using the outside edge of their feet to make their footsteps barely audible. They approach you from behind, but Feyd knows you’ve already sensed them when your eyes narrow and your spine straightens as you moderate your breathing.

“Now!” the baron bellows to the soldiers, who throw their hooks at you, aiming for your shoulders.  With the greatest of ease, you duck downward, allowing the prongs to soar over your head and clatter on the floor at the base of the tub.  You grasp the lines the soldiers are holding in your hands.  Standing back up, you twirl and swing one of your legs up and around the lines attached to the barbs. Using your foot as a hook, you force the lines downward and towards yourself, and the men topple over in their place as the lines are tugged toward you. They yell out in shock.

Feyd sees his uncle’s face contort in horror as he is frozen and at a loss for words. Clearly none of the three were expecting any resistance from you to be successful. You yank the ends of the barbs toward you and wrap your hands around the long rods. Dashing toward the entrance of the room, you make contact with one of them, killing them with a single blow before they have a chance to react.  The other one whimpers in fear, watching his comrade fall before attempting to scramble back to the entrance on his hands and knees.  

“FEYD, DO SOMETHING!” the baron hisses as you strike down the other who only makes it a few feet before your weapon collides with the back of his neck.  The second barbman falls to the ground, motionless. Feyd opens up the case and takes his knives out, holding them steady at his side.  As he approaches you, Feyd’s eyes flicker to the side toward where the baron lays in his vat of ooze, directing you to bring the fight closer to his uncle.  Your gaze intensifies, and you lower your stance, using the sharp edge of each barb to cut the lines away.

“Let’s dance, my dear husband,” you coo at him as you raise your weapons and rush at each other. The shrill sound of metal clashing fills the air.  You both know each other’s moves now.  As one attacks, the other easily parries, neither one of you coming close to inflicting real harm. Feyd feels the tingling of excitement in his soul.  Fighting with you before was exhilarating on Youra, but this is something else. He can finally see your beauty in all its glory.  The way your body contorts like an acrobat as you dodge and counter flawlessly. How your brow furrows when you take on one of his blows with impeccable form is a sight to behold. You are nothing short of a miracle. 

From the tub, the baron bellows, “Kill her, NOW!”  You and Feyd continue, circling around the tub so that you come closer to the baron.  With a signal to Feyd and one swift move, you knock baron’s hand closest to his control panel away, preventing him from calling for help.  The Baron gasps in surprise. You couldn’t have known that’s where the controls are unless you were told. The realization dawns on him too late; he feels the sting of Feyd’s blade on his neck. He looks up at his nephew in horror.  

Feyd drops his other knife and uses his free hand to force his uncle’s mouth open. The Baron chokes and gasps as the nephew he has groomed into a ruthless monster turns on him. The Baron tries to tell Feyd to unhand him as a desperate last effort as he struggles in the tub, but Feyd’s grip on his uncle is unwavering and only gets rougher. Feyd’s mind is ablaze.  This is his revenge for plotting to kill you and for a lifetime of abuse at his hand. 

In the past, Feyd revered his uncle, admired his iron grip on Giedi Prime, and thought that the baron was what he should aspire to be, but Feyd sees the truth now, looking down at his uncle writing in his grasp to no avail.  His uncle is and always has been pathetic.  It takes all the strength Feyd has in himself not to crack his Uncle’s neck right there. Feyd quells his impulsiveness. The plan must proceed as you arranged.

You approach from behind and stick two fingers in the baron’s mouth, stretching his cheek out as far as it will go.  The baron whimpers as he spies something stirring under your sleeves.  It circles down your arms and out from under the black fabric.  It’s a black centipede with thick, glossy armor.  It must be half the length of your arm, and the baron’s eyes quiver as it crawls onto the back of your hand and into his gaping maw. He chokes as the legs scuttle and scratch at his tongue.  The creature forces itself down his esophagus. The baron feels the creature thrash, and he can almost hear the chitin armor clicking against itself from within him as he chokes on it.

“Don’t move,” you tell the baron with a dark smile.  The baron’s fear is thick and palatable in the air.  “She won’t like it if her host moves too much.” You remove your fingers from his mouth and recoil at his saliva. “What shall I have her do first?  Maybe I’ll have her paralyze your vocal chords so you don’t go blabbing to anyone?” Your victim looks at you in desperation, but you tisk at him before letting out a rhythmic series of clicks through your teeth. The Baron feels the head of the creature wriggle inside of him back up into his throat.  The Baron coughs.  Gasping out in pain, he feels a searing pinch. Then the inside of his throat begins to burn. The centipede has clenched its jagged pincers around the inside of his throat. “Isn’t she so well trained, Baron?”

You lean down to the baron and hold his head in your hands so that you’re looking directly into his eyes, which are bloodshot and tearful.  “You pitiful man, you thought you could kill me?” you whisper to him as he tries to call for help, but no comprehensible sound comes out. “Let me tell you a secret: I am more than the damsel in distress you think I am. I fought alongside Feyd that night.  I even killed half of them. You shouldn’t have underestimated me or my people.  We may be caretakers, but once those we love are threatened, we will not rest until we have our revenge.  Now, you shall die a slow, painful, unceremonious death alone in a hot vat of black slime for your arrogance.”

You and Feyd release the baron from your grip. Allowing his body to sink against the edge of the tub.  The baron sputters, as he begins to convulse.  The venom is beginning to take hold.  Soon it will affect his whole nervous system and shut down his body entirely.  You and Feyd leave him there to rot as you deal with the bodies of the barbmen.  In the early morning before anyone is awake, you collect the centipede from the baron in his tub. His body is twitching ever so slightly, but there is no hope for him.  You hide the creature in your dress again, whispering small praises for a job well done and leave the room. 

By midday, the Harkonnen attendants are growing concerned that they have not heard from the baron, a servant opens up the doors to the baron’s chambers, finding him lifeless in his tub with empty eyes staring up at the ceiling with a single tear stain on his cheek.  The top doctors on Giedi Prime are brought in to perform an autopsy. They say he died of natural causes, unable to identify any trace of the centipede's presence.

The news spreads quickly about the baron’s passing, and you and Feyd put on a brave face for House Harkonnen.  The funeral procession is quickly organized. The people of Giedi Prime hang their heads, mourning the sudden loss of their dear leader as you and Feyd precess through the city alongside the coffin to put the baron in his final resting place. Feyd makes a speech, praising his uncle for his leadership, secretly relishing his death.

You put up large flags with the baron’s face on it throughout the land, shrouding the architecture in even more dark fabrics, hang a portrait of him next to the other past Harkonnen leaders in the hallway, and order a monument to be built in his honor. Nobody suspects a thing.

A month after the death of Vladimir Harkonnen, you and Feyd stand in front of the citizens of Giedi Prime in your best clothes again as one of the Harkonnen advisors announce your new titles: Baron and Baroness Harkonnen. The crowd chants for the both of you with zeal, grateful to have leaders again.  

The next morning, Feyd smiles as he opens his eyes and sees you sleeping peacefully, your head resting on his chest as you unconsciously run your fingers over his muscles.  He hopes you’re dreaming of him because you were most certainly the subject of all of his fantasies last night.  He tilts his head down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head.  He knows his next job is dealing with the Fremen attacks on Arrakis now that he is Baron Harkonnen.  Instead of concerning himself with that, he chooses to close his eyes again and pulls you in closer. That job can wait. For now, all his thoughts are consumed by you as they should be. 

--

Thanks for reading!

Part III OUT NOW!

Taglist:

@austinbutlerslovers

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Military Assassinations

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“What do you mean General Veers is dead?”

From the corner of the room Nifien could hear the lowly orderly who had drew the ire of the prince swallow as if they were choking on a Ganta Nut.

“Forgive me my prince,” the orderly stammered, “but General Veers was killed several months ago during the opening stages of the conflict.”

Glaring at the orderly with a mixture of displeasure and disgust, Prince Kiora was growing more impatient by the minute. He had been sent by his father the king to check on the status of the war front with the humans only to find himself greeted by lower ranking officers instead of the supreme commander himself; and now he had learned why.

“Why was the homeworld not informed of his death?” Kiora asked as he looked up from the orderly and stared down the remaining senior staff inside the war room. Only Nifien met his gaze but said nothing.

“With regrets great one, all transmissions have been blocked by a network of human cyber warfare satellites.”  

Quickly pulling out a data pad and thumbing in several keys in rapid succession, the holographic projector spun to life and presented an image of the world they now stood upon in the center of the room. The orderly pointed to a rash of tiny red icons that began appearing above the planet and moving in perfect formation across the entire atmosphere.

“Any transmission sent from the surface is rebounded off their satellites and sent back to the surface. We’ve been unable to get a signal out since we first arrived and with our navy hampered by the human fleet we’ve been in short supply of any orbit capable craft to breach the bubble and-“

The prince held up a hand dismissively and the orderly stopped their explanation. Rubbing his four eyes the prince said nothing as he took in the information laid out before him. The information homeworld had was clearly well and outdated by this new developments and that shifted the entire picture for Kiora.

“I assume General Mentau now leads the campaign then? Why is he not here?”

The gathered officer core looked nervous and said nothing as the orderly tried to speak but stopped themselves several times.

“Because he too is also dead, your highness;” Nifien spoke as he stepped forward, “along with General Jul’nin, Safar, Dre’nuk, and Gin’tharie.”

  “Dead?!” The prince spoke out in surprise, “All of them?!?”

“I’m afraid so.” Nifien replied as he stood next to the orderly. With a subtle nod he dismissed the orderly who thankfully bowed his head to both Nifien and the prince before retreating back to the corners of the room; no doubt thankful to no longer be the prime focus of the prince.

“How was this…this…disaster, allowed to unfurl..” the prince began as he looked at Nifien and it dawned on him that he had not introduced himself yet.

“Apologies my liege,” he began as he bowed, “I am Nifien Ve-gar, Commander of the 3rd front and acting supreme commander of the campaign.”

“How was this allowed to happen?” the prince reiterated, to which Nifien entered several keys into his own data pad and the projection shifted to a video feed.

“Shortly after our arrival General Veers was targeted by what the humans call a “hit squad”, and terminated while touring the front lines.”

The video feed was footage from a soldiers weapon camera mount and showed the general very much alive and discussing matters with several soldiers gathered around him. Veers was well known to be loved by his forces as he would see the frontlines for himself time to time and speak with his forces personally.

Just as the General finished telling a joke which had the gathered host laughing the back of his head blew out and showered his bodyguards standing behind him in brain matter. The gathered mass of soldiers began shouting while and searching for the direction the shot came from as Veers bodyguards cradled their now deceased leader and dragged his body away off screen before the feed ended.

“Shortly after his death General Mentau took overall command of the campaign. He held the position for a month before he too was likewise terminated by what we believe to be the same hit squad.”

Another feed appeared on the screen showing General Mentau’s personal command vehicle pulling into a compound only for it to suddenly explode violently. Black flames emerged from the shattered windows and the general’s death screams could be heard causing several of the gathered officers to look away in horror.

Rather than showing more gruesome footage several pictures of the other decease general’s appeared on screen showing they had met similar fates, along with half a dozen other lower ranking officers.

“Without a proper chain of command to direct the larger picture,” Nifien continued as the hologram switched to project the territories controlled by their forces and the humans, “the entire army had ground to a standstill. Some units have been operating under order several weeks old by now leaving the entire front stagnant. In the last month alone I have had to issue field promotions to some thirty six officers to keep the entire army from falling in on itself and even now the measure is merely a stopgap to the much larger issue. ”

Kiora listened in silence as the scope of the problem was finally laid bare. Without clear lines of leadership and orders to follow the entire invasion force was now on the verge of disintegration.

“If you have promoted new officers why has the war continued to remain a stalemate?” the prince asked.

Nifien shrugged. “Every soldier by now knows about the human hit squads and is terrified of them, especially the newly promoted officers. By now they all know there is a giant target on their back and the paranoia is making them halt and consolidate their gains to ensure their own safety.”

The holographic projection shifted again to show a blurry outline of a figure from great distance. Nifien pointed to the figure as he spoke to the prince. “This is the only photo of the human hit squad that we have. Despite every security upgrade we have done, patrols altered, transmission frequency recoded; they are still able to bypass our lines and target officers.”

He chuckled despite himself. “Hells, I’ve not been able to leave this command bunker since becoming acting commander and that was over a month ago.”

Though he was disgusted with the human’s cowardly tactics Kiora had to admit that they had played themselves well. With but the slayings of a few individuals the entire army had been ground to a halt as they awaited orders that would never come.

“When my father hears of this disaster he will be most…..displeased.” the prince said in a low tone which the gathered officers knew all too well. The King’s displeasure was that of a death sentence in all but name and their only hope was to earn some crumb of glory to stave off the butcher’s axe from their necks.

To the prince’s surprise Nifien shook his head. “I’m afraid that will be a long time before he hears that your highness.”

“And why is that?” Kiora dismissed flatly. “Do you think your temporary station gives you some measure of control over one of the royal blood?”

“Never your grace, but it does ensure me when in matters of your protection.”

“My protections?” the prince replied startled, “What do you mean?”

“These humans have shown they are more than capable of killing anyone at nearly any time of their choosing.” Nifien began, “So what do you think they will do when they learn that their most hated enemy’s prince has arrived at the warzone?”

The realization finally dawned for Kiora as his mouth hung open.

“Chances are the moment you step foot outside of this bunker, you will be dead before you even lay eyes on your ship.”

[spectral-snippets-and-drabbles]

A Martyr From the Ashes

For everyone in the fandom saying saying that Danny thinks Martian ManHunter is cooler than Superman, we don't really see it all that much in writing.

I'mma try and fix that...

~•~•~•~•~•~

The Martian Book of Legends held the heroic tale of Saint Da'han'yul Fen'tuun of Mars, a sickly albino priest of a small town that held marriages, sermons regarding life and how it should be enriched and lived to its fullest, and specialized in funerals that used cremations with fire, a feat thought to be physically impossible by the masses. As people saw him look into the flames without fear while others cowered, rumors spread that the young man was blessed by H'ronmeer himself, the Martian God of Fire, Life, and Death.

People spoke about how Da'han'yul turned down all attempts at courtship, for he had decided to dedicate his life to bring light in the darkest times to all lives in the name of his God. He was a thing of beauty with a gentle soul and shy demeanor, even the Red and Green skinned who had still held a firm belief on the caste system could not deny his charm. How the terminally ill Martian carried on his mission with a smile, nobody knew.

However, tragedy struck on the day that should have spelled the beginning of the end for the Martian people. A parasitic species had invaded the Martian Homeworld and was causing untold havoc. As civilians fled from the threat and prepared a counter offensive, it was Da'han'yul Fen'tuun who charged into the danger headfirst to save his people from becoming prey.

As others pleaded for him to run away, in a great bright flash of light, a gigantic Martian loomed over the enemy emerged where the ill Martian stood, coated in flames in a form they've never seen before with a halo and body that burned a haunting green.

The deafening silence still held as the enormous creature brought a massive fist on the giant pale walker that was destroying homes. A wave of its hand sent a wall of green flames raced towards the foot soldiers, reducing them to ash while his people and buildings were not harmed in any form without an ounce fear of these fires the creature used to purge the enemy. Within the hour, the threat had been neutralized and peace was brought back to the red planet.

As the Martian people looked to the titan, they knew. H'ronmeer's had chosen his most loyal servant, Da'han'yul, as the avatar of his wrath to smite those who would bring his people harm. The people hugged and wept tears of joy and cheered for the priest and H'ronmeer for saving them, but the tears soon became tears of sorrow.

The giant groaned in pain as he fell on one knee as it began to crumble into ash before the people's very eyes. Like a flame, Da'han'yul Fen'tuun had burned his brightest when life needed him most, and now death called to him as it slowly extinguished it to give him peace. With a final message, he pleaded to his people to come together as one and to not see one another as lesser or greater than, but as equals who can help one another in the darkest of times and the hardships yet to come. With his final moments gone, a final telepathic embrace was given to all before he fell silent for the last time.

The massive pile of ash that were his remains was brought back to his little village and made into a beautiful garden of ash in the temple where the newly titled Saint made his home in, where it would be made a holy site that many would come to give their thanks and pay their respects for H'ronmeer' and his champion alike.

And for centuries, peace was held before it was shattered by Ma'alefa'ak, who unleashed the Fire Plague to take vengeance on his people for his inability to experience the psionic way of life that was the norm. His smile as his people screamed in anguish was knocked off his face in the most literal of terms when a Martian struck him down and had him by the throat.

A Martian with eyes burning in anger as Ma'alefa'ak failed to break free and was being beaten severely for his crimes against the people of Mars. A Martian made entirely up of ash and green embers.

Saint Da'han'yul Fen'tuun had returned, if only for a moment longer. And he was not happy.

Quickly, one by one across the planet, the martians set ablaze burned a gentle green that healed them. In this miraculous act of divine intervention, not a single Martian had lost their life. Most were now unconscious with labored breathing being heard.

J'onn watched on as his brother screamed in agony as his body burst into green flames as a pool of ash began to swallow his brother whole. Before disappearing entirely, Da'han'yul told him the punishment his brother would be facing.

"Ma'alefa'ak's psionic abilities have been awoken. He will be sentenced to become a living flame until he has lived the collective life span of all that he has tried to extinguish."

J'onn was too stunned to speak. With how long a Martian can live, it was the equivalent of telling him his brother would be suffering for an eternity. It seemed unethical, but he knew his brother had dug his own grave the moment he saw the reanimated remains of Da'han'yul Fen'tuun's ashes take swift action.

"Everything will be ok now, J'onn. Go to your family and tend to them.

"Da'han'yul...Thank you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you when you were still alive." J'onn solemnly uttered as he looked to the ground, unable to look at his deceased youngest brother.

"Nonsense J'onn, it's not your fault...The caste system...it–"

"I could've done more! Instead I saved myself instead of being there when my brothers needed me most!"

"J'onn...you were just a child."

"It makes none of it right!"

He was right in that aspect, but it still didn't feel right. Ma'alefa'ak' was ostracized by society, was treated like a freak of nature for lack of natural gifts and he wanted to burn society to the ground in the most literal of terms because of it.

While Da'han'yul, the forgotten youngest brother, was treated horribly for being albino and treated cruelly. He contracted a deadly disease when he separated himself from the family to live in isolation with other albinos that made him sickly and cut his life expectancy down severely. Knowing what befell him, seeing him struggle to move and hold down food at times while J'onn and their parents did nothing.

These tumultuous emotions sat in J'onn for so long. The way he wanted to go and help them both, but the fear of association and social punishment for merely being seen with his brothers made him cry when he younger for being so weak willed. It wasn't until their parents bragged about the sacrifice their forgotten child had made, the sone they purposely scorned made him snap.

"J'onn, promise to keep my message alive for me. Help our people become whole again."

"Of course, brother." Is what J'onn tells him as he watches his little brother vanish again for a third and final time.

[quinklequonkle]

Steven Universe Au: ✧Citrine✧

Citrine was a homeworld gem that served under Yellow Diamond and was passed down to Pink and eventually fought in the Gem War. Due to being such a faithful soldier to Pink Diamond, he ended up with quite a bit of battle scars due to having to fight gems he once bonded with, eventually taking a toll on his mental health and making him question his own loyalty towards the diamond. Unfortunately for him, he was one of the many gems that weren't able to evacuate safely before being hit by the corrupted light beam, turning him into a fox beast for hundreds of years until the very same Crystal Gems he fought way back when found him, poofed him, and bubbled him. The Gems told Steven not to tamper with bubbled gems, but like his rebellious mother, Steven did his own thing and unbubbled him, he almost died but ended up healing Citrine to almost his former state. It took a while for Citrine to grasp that he was never going to get back to his homeworld. He was now under the roof of the enemy, Pink diamond was shattered, and the diamonds basically left him corrupted forever, but once he realized this, he truly began to heal from it with the help of his newfound team.

Personality: Stern and snarky towards any gem who wasn't one of the diamonds before meeting the Crystal Gems, afterward, his personality really got to shine through. He's actually quite bubbly, and no one can stop him when he has his mind on something. He tends to still be somewhat standoffish to others he's unfamiliar with but warms up to them quite nicely in due time.

•*⁠･▽Extra info

✧} In this au, Steven introduces him to anime and he gets HOOKED and becomes a sub over dub guy almost INSTANTLY

✧} Speed is his top strength

✧} He's had his ears and tail even before the corruption

✧} His weapon can shatter a gem but his claws can't

✧} He enjoys hanging out with Peridot and Lapis

[kittydoesthings]

hi hello I have made so many Crystal Run doodles and straight up just forgot to share them so here's a bunch all at once

Moonstone lore under the cut

Back during Era 1 thousands of years ago, Moonstone was a gem of very high status on Homeworld. A member of Moonlight's Court and one of her most trusted advisors, a scholar, a researcher; he was a paragon of knowledge and was constantly wanting to learn more. And the cherry on top was he was clairvoyant, able to see into the future.

All was fine for many thousands of years, but then something happened. Moonstone doesn't usually look too far into the future, mostly just a couple hours, days or weeks, occasionally a few months, just to see how a decision will play out. But the one time he tries to see even further, centuries ahead, he sees Homeworld in ruins, gems shattered and corrupted, and it's all HIS fault? How? How could HE do this? WHY would he do this?

Moonstone learned something he shouldn't have, and he began to deteriorate. He started to avoid other gems more and started to spend most of his time in the archives, desperately searching for an answer to how this could ever happen, not realizing he was just sealing his own fate. And then one day, he finally snapped, dragging Moissanite, Painite, Pezzottaite, and Alexandrite- his closest friends- down with him one by one. The five Beasts wreaked havoc across Homeworld, spreading corruption and chaos until the Diamonds eventually brought them down, assigning Labradorite and his soldiers to guard them so they'd remain sealed for their safety and the safety of all gemkind.

[spectralreplica]

(Post with designs here, fusions here)

As promised, a little bit of these guys interacting with the canon Crystal Gems, plus a tiny bit of backstory! I think probably at least some actual Rose Quartzes had Pink Diamond-esque powers (albeit not as strong) in canon or else surely the Diamonds would've been like, "hey, why the hell is this one random soldier so OP???". But at the same time I'm not sure that Pink/Rose would have consciously given them those powers or if they would just... emerge a la Peridot's metal thing.

Changing the subject, I think that in this AU Pearl has a terrible rebound fling with Homupearl after Rose's death, possibly even as a trio with Jadeoka? Speaking of Homura, I made her owner on Homeworld be Kyubey since there wasn't really any other character I thought would fit the role. Gem!Kyubey is kind of a look, though??? I also threw in Oriko and Kirika since Yuma's there too. The edgiest of Pearls... (Sidenote: that's basically the only spinoff I ever kept track of closely enough to know the characters, so no Kazumis, Tarts, MagiRecos, etc.!)

I also imagined Hitomi as another Jade, although she's part of a different court and thus doesn't end up going to Earth or rebelling... They all meet up again in the SU Future time period!

[rainbow-zebra-art]

Full color commission for Hyo38! Featuring his Star Wars OC Valash Saresh in her Admirals uniform. Judging by her looks and scars, it seems she means business!

Name: Valash Saresh Race: Twi'lek Gender: Female Homeworld: Alkenddra, a farming world within the Rheged Commonwealth Year of birth: 70 BBY History up until the Clone Wars: Born to the last of the Saresh clan Valash grew up on a farming Estate that was all her family had, they were semi-wealthy but still had to work the fields themselves to bring in the harvest. She lived a peaceful life with her family until one day when she was 14 a pirate raid struck her home and killed her parents. During the raid she took up a blaster from a fallen member of the Planetary Militia and fought back against the pirates. She fully joined the Militia afterwards leaving the farm in the care of others as she sunk her time into learning the art of soldiering until the point that she left Alkenddra and became part of various mercenary units. This went on until she took on work for the Corporate Alliance who, at her request, sent her to the Anaxes War College to learn Starship warfare. The next decade of her life was spent commanding Corporate Alliance ships against pirate groups and occasionally forcing worlds into compliance with the Corporations wishes. When the Corporate Alliance joined in with the Confederacy of Independent Systems she continued her service despite her loyalty to the Republic and became an Admiral in it’s nascent fleet.

[yanderes-galore]

Hi I really liked your generic Ruby concept that you did a while ago so I was wondering if you could do the same but for sapphire’s if it isn’t a bother thank you (also sorry if I’ve requested this before I have the memory of a goldfish 🥲)

I can give my thoughts, sure! Just a warning though... I'm rusty on Steven Universe content.

General Ruby Concept Here

Yandere! Generic Sapphire(s) Concept

(FT. Ruby Guards)

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Manipulation, She uses her Rubies against you, Dubious/Forced companionship/relationship.

Sapphires are different from Rubies, obviously (In Steven Universe).

Sapphires are an entirely different caste, often used to predict the future for other Gems.

While Rubies are soldiers, Sapphires are aristocratic.

They are important and rare Gems and aren't typically seen in groups.

Rubies are naturally found in groups due to their fusion abilities as soldiers.

Sapphires are usually singular, so you'd most likely have one Sapphire as a yandere... which is easier.

Sapphires probably aren't too bad as yanderes.

They aren't physically strong without fusion, but they do have future vision and ice powers.

You could meet your yandere in the same way as your Ruby(s).

You're a Homeworld gem... you're a human and found her... or you met her in Little Homeworld.

I personally like the idea of you finding a Sapphire who came to Earth and befriending her.

Sapphires are usually seen with Ruby Guards, perhaps she was separated from her guards and you found her?

Either way, I imagine your Sapphire is curious and very patient.

She originally is hesitant to communicate with you, but as you get to know her she's floating by your side.

The ice powers and future vision no doubt come in handy.

Imagine when your Sapphire gets attached she attempts to use her future vision to predict how your bond will go.

However, with future vision I imagine Sapphires would be more lucid.

They know better than any other Gem the toxicity of their attraction... allowing them to predict how to make it better or when to back off.

As a result, an attached Sapphire is aware of what their obsession could cause.

Or at the very least... somewhat aware.

Another cool thing to add is a Sapphire can alert other Gems to their own obsession.

For the most part your Sapphire would use such an ability to keep you safe from danger and predict how to win you over.

Honestly, alone Sapphires aren't much of a problem.

However, imagine if your Sapphire had Ruby Guards.

Perhaps you promised to help her find her guards?

You could be a human or Gem, eventually your Sapphire feels comfortable around you.

She feels a strong connection with you... although due to being a Gem she isn't quite sure what it is yet.

(Especially if you're human/a Gem from Earth and she's from Homeworld)

By the time you do manage to locate her guards, she's a bit too attached.

Her Rubies originally treat you with hostility, after all they've been lost here for what seems like weeks.

If they aren't her guards, they're at least old friends.

Yet your Sapphire reassures them that you're no threat... leading to the Rubies to calm a bit.

Your Sapphire even says you helped her... she considers you an ally and friend!

However... I feel a yandere Sapphire comes with an issue despite how tame they'd be.

Their guards will do anything to keep their assignment happy... leading to you dealing with Rubies ANYWAYS.

Your Sapphire tries to reassure you when you notice Rubies following you around.

They're protecting the both of you!

The main yandere is still your Sapphire, she's the one who has a bond with you after all.

It's just that she has guards now enabling her.

She says it's all for your protection, that she's trying to make you happy.

If you tried to separate yourself from your Sapphire, she could send her Rubies after you or freeze you.

She hates the idea of harming you, but she's doing anything she can to chase a future in which you're both happy.

The good thing is, sometimes she leaves you to have your space.

She's lucid enough to give you your space.

Sapphire would most likely learn affectionate gestures from you.

Remember, affection isn't common in Gem culture.

Unlike Rubies, she isn't fully for the idea of fusing if you can't.

But she does know how to learn hugs, kisses, cuddling, etc....

She just hopes it'll be able to make you both happy.

She still believes the perfect future for the both of you is one where you're both happy...

The issue is... what actions will bring you both to that point... and will it hurt?

[darth-kote]

Fives headcanons Pt. 1

Makes a point of learning how to say simple phrases in a few different languages native to the places he visits as a soldier. He finds that the native civilizations usually take more kindly to someone who isn't barking at them in a foreign, confusing tongue. "Hello," "thank you," and "we are here to offer help," are a few he tries to memorize as they travel through hyperspace. Fives isn't motivated by anything other than making the civilians more comfortable... But when he's given fruit or flowers as thanks for his friendliness, he makes sure his brothers get a clear view of the gifts. "See, diplomacy does pay off, Hardcase." (He receives a scoff and an envious glares in return.)

Back on Kamino, Shaak Ti had instilled in him that his brothers were there for him, and he had a duty to reciprocate that. As time went, it became less his duty and more his heart's desire. It made him feel nauseous when he heard a raucous laugh fall from Echo's or Kix's lips, mostly because it was his own laughter amplified and externally sourced. He remembers the first time going to 79s with some of the 501st, not long after Rishi Moon; Rex had introduced him to some of his men, and it had been one of the first times since he'd been on Kamino that he'd felt completely safe. Looking around, it was rare to meet eyes with anyone's who weren't his own, and kriff, the laughter. It had filled him with such a sense of belonging that he'd had to go cry in the fresher, just for a moment. When he'd returned to the group, Echo had given him a knowing look – eyes gentle as always, the inkling of a smile on his lips; he'd felt it too. After everything with Domino Squad, Fives was reluctant to build from the rubble of his past, but he found it was more agonizing to cut himself off from their unconditional love.

Fascinated by braids. The first time he saw them, ever, was on a desert planet they had been stationed on for months during the war. This planet couldn't have been further from his water-covered homeworld, the people included. Their complexions ranged from a deep-copper red to a blue that was nearly purple in hue, and their hair was sculpted into intricate braids that he never stopped admiring for as long as they were there. After several weeks of hesitating, he finally asked if he could learn the community's art form. He had been afraid of rejection, and bade his breath as he awaited the Elderwoman's decision whether or not to let this strange man into their traditions. He knew this was something the people of this world held dearly, and he was prepared to take no as his answer. Watching would suffice. However, when the Elderwoman sent for himself and Tup, he allowed himself some hope. Entering her clay fortress had been even more wonderful than he'd imagined; breads and meat were offered to them, and Tup, for once, could admit that Fives was quite the diplomat. Meeting the Elderwoman face-to-face was comparable, he felt, to being in the presence of Shaak Ti – she was a master with plenty to teach to those she deemed worthy of the knowledge. Her hair had been down, rather than up in one of the various styles he'd seen her wearing from afar; the texture of her hair created a halo around her, and Fives had been in utter awe. He and Tup had been instructed to sit and watch as the Elder's handmaidens wove her hair, slowly, carefully, into the desired shapes and patterns. Although they were not allowed to touch, Fives learned through observation how these sculptures that had caught his eye since the beginning were created. As they'd watched, he practically begged Tup to take his hair down so that he might practice a simpler technique they were being shown, and Tup would never admit that he'd dozed off several times under his brother's diligent touch.

As much as he enjoys making his brothers a little jealous, Fives is such a softy for each and every one of them. He will go off and pick flowers for them, and he'll make sure to weave a crown or necklace for Rex to wear. I can imagine them all sweeping through a field of tall grass, and Fives is in the middle of everything.. collecting flowers for his brothers to wear and smell. They'd all have their favorite spot in their armor for their flower to be kept, of course.

[pocket-gems]

Tear species guide Masterpost.2

(Disclaimer: Tear is not an actual gemstone, this is a fan-made open species based on Steven Universe. They are not related to the volcanic glass called Pele's Tears)

Tears are an elite nobility Gems. Primarily, they use their future vision to assure the process of Gem creation. Their main role in Homeworld is to organize and localize possible colonies for the creation of a Kindergarten.

In addition to their abilities as prophets, they can levitate. They have the power of creating crystals for their self defense such as weapons, armor and flight. However, Tears' future vision only applies to the events of a star/planet/moon and their condition.

Their main power is Cosmic Energy Manipulation, wich consists of being capable to create spacial dust storms. It can cause light distortions, that can heavilly harm a Gem's physical form (as Gems are made of light). This element is only able to be used on space or space-like atmospheres.

Because of their high rank status, Tears tend to have guards assigned to ensure their safety, since they were not made for combat. The most common types of guards can vary (Rubies, Quartzes, Topazes, other type of soldier/guard gem...)

They are a tall, skinny gem that generally have tear-like pattern limited to their face. However, there's a rarer variety of Tear that can have marking/patterns around their body. Tears have hair tend to have a shadow that resembles night star.

Their gemstones are more commonly faceted, resembling a star with 4 points. Its shape and pattern variates, and they can have inclusions such as being rutilated, a cat's eye, etcètera. A rarer variety of their gemstone is being a plain cabochon while having a variety of patterns.

Tears creation process involves White Diamond and they cannot be created like other gems, wich is why Tears are a highly rare Gem.

Off Colours Tears

Overcooked Tears are half the size of an standard Tear. Thicker Tears are the same size of a Tear and tend to have plump lips. They are both perfectly able to function in Homeworld and while being considered defective. Midget Tears are unable to do their Gem tasks properly and are chased as an off colour.

(The more "masculine" base is just there in case someone wanted to go for another vibe)

Various Tear Examples

(Diamond-Spotted Tear, Wine Tear, Peach Tear, Sand Tear, Seafoam Tear, Bi-colour Tear, Mystic Swamp Tear, Serbert Tear and Rosewater Tear)

(TO ADD, CORRUPTION AND UNCORRUPTED FORM. OOPS!)

Frequent Questions

•Can I make Tear adopts/customs/gifts?

As long as you credit me, yeah! I don't mind ^^

•I'm unsure about my Tear, could you help me figure out?

Yeah! I'll even draw them free of charge if that helps, absolutely!

•Can I have one as a main gemsona?

Yes. Express yourself.

Important note:

I made this as a very general guide of "What I would do". They are an open species, and anyone is welcome to pick up something and go "I don't like this, I'm doing it my way". That includes palettes, forms, shapes and powers.

Per example, my original guide did not include a thick tear and they ended up being canon to me. A bunch of this (updated) guide is inspired by others' takes of things that I just didn't see coming and that inspired me to make it "official".

My priority is for others to expand my concept. I do not care if someone does something a way I don't like, because then there's no point of making them an open species. Literally go have fun.

(May add more questions/update in the future)

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Military Industrial Complex

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Summary report of Terran Republic

Homeworld: Terra. Alias: Earth

Territory: 23 Planets 16 Star Systems 54 Orbital Stations 267 Asteroid Mining Operations

Population: 20.9 Billion

Military Threat Level: Red

Technological Level: Yellow

Personal Log from observer Nul Yand

“On the surface the Terran Republic should not even exist.

Their technological level is far below their neighbors such as the Olon Alliance or the Fenrar Empire.

They barely have the means to travel between their worlds and even then it requires months when the previously mentioned governing bodies can do it in days.

The one quality these humans have that has kept them alive for so long is the scope of their military; or more accurately their military industrial complex.

One could be forgiven for equating the two to be one in the same, but the distinction is made quite obvious when dealing with humans.

Their military operates under three branches known as the Fleet, the Army, and the Home Guard.

 The fleet maintains the various orbital and suborbital craft almost completely. This ranges from the kilometer long Kepper Warships to atmospheric attack craft and is the primary partner for the second branch as a means to travel between worlds.

The army is made up of ground forces ranging from standard infantry to heavy mobile assault tanks. During times of war they are the spear tip and conduct numerous covert operations against human aggressors. When these operations are not enough the ground forces are then deployed which conduct full scale planetary invasions or man the numerous defensive forts dotted throughout their territory.

The final branch is the least militaristic of the three but serves a crucial role nonetheless. Home Guard serves as the eyes and ears within the human domain as a sudo military surveillance force. They enforce the laws while also rooting out enemies to said laws such as common gang members to spy’s and collaborators.

All three of these organizations are supplied through what is known as the human Military Industrial Complex.

The MIC is not a single entity but a collection of private corporations, weapon manufacturers, scientific committees, political lobbyists, and countless other unnamed groups who have saw fit not to make themselves known. 

They provide the human military with a near endless supply of weaponry, ammunition, vehicles, ships, and more ensuring that at no time are their forces underequipped.

Research divisions conduct numerous lines of inquiry which include biological and advanced robotics. This has resulted in the military having a wide variety of advanced war machines such as the attack bot 5000, and the UAV dubbed “Seekers” which are capable of tracking down individual targets across an entire planet.

 The biological division has made several advances in medical technology which have equally contributed with the production of Healing Pods which can induce accelerated healing process for even the most injured soldier. On the more questionable front they have also created several strains of lethal viruses to be used against enemy combatants. Rumor is that the Red Vein Plague was one such concoction when the war against the Tumari began taking a turn for the worse against humanity.

With this vast network of resources, the Terran military has been able to adapt to nearly any situation it has faced allowing it to survive even against impossible odds.

When the vast fleet of organic Milnani ships invaded human borders it was expect the human fleets would be wiped out within the first week. The first few engagements resulted in losses, but by the third engagement the humans had deployed new boring missiles that chewed through the thick hide of Milnani ships and dispersed a lethal toxic into the ships bloodstream. Within minutes the ships were violently convulsing as entire portions were torn open from muscle spasms, exposing the passengers to the cold void of space.

When the Tucmal used their advanced weaponry advantage to conquer an outlying colony, the human military dispatched a covert strike team to capture one of the weapon platforms and return it to a research lab on Omega VI. A month later effective shields had been deployed to counteract Tucmal weaponry rendering it useless. A week later the first phase plasma canons were being deployed that could burn through Tucmal armor protecting weapon platforms

When a War Sphere was deployed to obliterate the human homeworld a relay station was deployed to follow it just outside of weapons range. A cryptology team intercepted all incoming transmissions and was able to decipher the communications from the war sphere back to whoever was controlling it thanks to a recently acquired quantum gen III computer and over two dozen alien speakers who had been “invited” to a private facility. The team was able to interject into the transmissions and send a new command to turn around, return to its point of origin, and destroy the planet it came from. They then ordered it to turn off its transmission center so the human command could not be countermanded. In short order the war sphere followed its new directive and returned to its point of origin somewhere in the Ocares Sector.

This shadowy collective has been a backbone of human survival and though many have sought to remove this bountiful source of progress none have been able to completely destroy the MIC. Research groups have been tracked down and their teams wiped out to the man only for another group to take up the notes half a sector away. Factories and facilities obliterated in orbital bombardments were relocated to space stations orbiting no stars in the space between systems off all charts and maps.

It was deemed that only an overwhelming force of unprecedented vastness striking all at once would be sufficient to deal a crippling blow to the MIC. This in of itself however has proved a problem as to gather such a force would almost immediately be noticed and countered before it could even be put into motion.

My recommendation would be to isolate humanity and avoid combat as much as possible.

If conflict is inevitable then it must be prevalent that all significant technology not fall into their hands lest it be deconstructed and used against us.

Only then do we have a slight chance of victory."