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#glossu rabban x reader
francis-writes · 2 months
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Being in polyamorous relationship with Feyd and Rabban HCs with GN!reader
( specifically in a vee type of relationship so you're with both of them but there's no incest)
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SFW
I know I said before that they wouldn’t share you, at least with each other but hey, a girl (gender neutral) can dream! And ending up with them both isn't so impossible.
It's easier to start if you're with Feyd-Rautha first, or if you're free and still trying to choose. Feyd is more confident so it's less risky in his eyes to share you. Though he's possesive, well, however that sounds, he sees this as a way to show his superiority over Rabban. Like yeah, you choose Feyd first and Rabban wouldn’t be able to have you if Feyd didn't mercifully agree for that. Rabban isn't very happy with this idea and games of his brother but he accepts it as the only way to be with you. The other way around, it would be much harder to convice Rabban for a polyam relationship because he doesn't want to give away everything to his brother and he would be afraid that you would leave him eventually. But there's also another reason that motivates them both to agree on sharing you: threesomes. But NSFW part will be later.
If you agree on this relationship, you have an important duty and that's bringing balance and stability between them. Watching shit go down is funny once in awhile but it's better if you're boyfriends don't have a constant war with each other.
You usually spend your time with only one brother at once, not just because they like to have your full attention but also all of you have own duties. But every now and then you make sure to spend time all three together.
For longer time, it's not official. Giedi Prime might be famous as planet of debauchery but it's only in some ways: you can have as much concubines as you want, especially when you're rich, but having a stable relationship with two men is still taboo. The other matter is fact that Baron still considers gaining power through getting his nephews into political marriage.
Speaking of the Baron... I mentioned in other post that he would enjoy if brothers competed for your affection because he could use that conflict for his own goals. Happy stable relationship isn't useful to him at all. Even if you have some higher position there's still two problems: 1. Why waste two nephews on one political marriage. Not stonks 2. Happy stable relationship is a threat to his power. Nephews may listen to him less. Rabban may gain self-esteem. That's a big risk. But well, you're still safe as much as you can be. Brothers protect you and they had a talk with their uncle to ensure some rules and your status.
Your relationship isn't official and known to most people, commoners, other Houses and even some local nobles. You don't accompany brothers during public events and even if you're there, you keep your distance and have believable excuse for your presence. Only their inner circle knows about what's between you three. You can be more open about it during dinners together, though when there's Baron Harkonnen present, you can sense he's not very happy about any sign of affection. But who knows, maybe one day he will start appreciating you.
Still on sfw note, when you're all in one place, you usually share a bed. Unless you're not very cuddly and each one sleeps in separate bed to have enough space.
In a scenario where they all survived events of Dune and remained in positions of power, when there's no one stopping them, they would eagerly marry you if you wanted (by no one I mean their uncle; Bene Gesserit and many other Houses thinks that it's a scandal but uhmm Harkonnens don't give a shit abt that). Any previous conflicts and fight for dominance would be put aside. They want to show that you're equally married to one of them, not just are a spouse of one and lover of the other. Desire to show the middle finger to social expectations is even stronger than any their competition.
NSFW
Of course, I know I couldn't skip that part. I know you waited for it. So yeah, now you can finally read about threesomes, the reasons you got into this post.
I'll skip the moments when you are just with one of the brothers because there are many other posts about it. The only thing I can add in that matter is that for some time they considered making a schedule to make sure that you don't spend too much time with one of them but eventually you gave up on this idea.
Question is, isn't it awkward for them to share you? Wouldn't they feel weird while spitroasting you - lets say, you suck off Rabban, he looks up and looks in the face of his brother while Feyd fucks you from behind. Isn't it unfomfortable even for them? The answer is no. At the beginning they may have some doubts, but lust quickly wins with other feelings and they never mind it again. Despite all the conflicts between them, they know each other well enough to not feel embarrassed while naked around each other. Also they are kinky enough to uphold the reputation of House Harkonnen loving pleasure and perversy. They would rather high five each other over your back than feel awkward (it's just a metaphor. Unless... jk)
Dynamics change everytime, especially if you're a switch. As I mentioned before, Feyd is dom leaning switch and Rabban is sub leaning switch but that doesn't stop them from ocassionaly dominating you together. Or sometimes you dom one of them while other doms you. Or you dom them both. Or you dom one of them and the other helps, well, not sexually but for example he says something to help you humiliate your sub (I'm not pointing fingers). You get the point.
Sometimes you fuck just one of them but you're not completely alone and the other brother just sits next to you and either minds his bussiness or just observes you while being kinda turned on and kinda supportive.
You: Feyd, I am sorry but do you have to keep staring?
Feyd: *shows thubs up* i just admire your strength. Go on. Ride him like Fremen rides a sandworm.
You and Rabban: ;_;
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boldstarks · 2 months
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Giedi Prime (House Fenrir Dune AU)
word count: 1498 Words pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader warnings: none (yet) summary: you arrive on Giedi Prime for the Na-Baron's birthday celebration, but you have another task ahead of you.
Before you arrived on Giedi Prime, you didn't believe a place could be completely devoid of color, but as you stand on one of your father's heighliners looking over the planet, you have come to believe what they say. You peered at the black and white planet below from the bridge as the ship waited for its permission to land on the surface. House Fenrir was one of the many invited to the celebration for the Na-Baron's twentieth birthday and one-hundredth gladiator fight.
Even from outside the atmosphere, you can see the planet is heavily polluted from the fervent industrialization led by House Harkonnen over the centuries.
A nervousness settled in your stomach when you entered the planet's orbit, and your father's reservations about the match weren't easing the anxiety creeping through your bloodstream. Today was the day that you would begin to seduce the Baron's heir.
"We could always go back home," the archduke said. He has joined you at the window.
"It would not serve our house to make an enemy out of the Harkonnens," you reply in a monotone voice.
They were known for maintaining a cruel and tyrannical grip over their worlds. Violence and war were ingrained in their culture, and you had no doubt they would inflict that bloodshed on your people. If their treatment of the people of Arrakis was any indicator of how they treated those who displeased them, you knew they could do the same to Fenrir.
"Wise words," Lady Aurelia, your father's concubine, said.
Lady Aurelia was the closest thing you had to a mother after your own had died of a mysterious illness during your adolescence. You knew she did not see you the same way, though. Your father openly favored you and your older sister, Maron, over her two sons. To her, you were simply an obstacle in the way of her eldest son inheriting your father's title.
"They could reverse engineer our harvesters or simply kill us and take over production, and the emperor wouldn't bat an eye," you said, turning away from the grim image of the planet that you would soon call home if all went according to the Reverend Mother's plan.
"I hate the thought of leaving you in this place," Vulcan says.
Lady Aurelia sighs. "Y/N can take care of herself; I've seen to it."
"Lady Aurelia is right, father. I am more than capable of completing the task that the sisterhood has given me," you tell him.
Your reassurance only causes the worry lines around his mouth and forehead to deepen.
"Your Grace," a servant said.
The three figures at the window turn, and the servant curtsies quickly in respect.
"We have been given permission to land, Your Grace. We await your command," the servant says and curtsies again.
You watch her nervously scamper off. It seems that Vulcan wasn't the only one on edge today.
The landing was relatively uneventful, and the surface of Giedi Prime was just as bleak as you imagined. There were no natural plants in sight, and the air had a bitter taste to it that coated your tongue, throat, and sinuses. It made you miss Fenrir bitterly, with its vast oceans and thick forests that enveloped the less developed parts of the planet.
In the light of Giedi Prime's black sun, your ice blue dress looks silver. It's form-fitting to your body with a halter neck and leaves your arms bare. The look was completed with teardrop-shaped pearl earrings set in silver hardware.
A female servant is already waiting for you when the ship lands. She is pale and completely devoid of hair. She wears a dark-colored dress of a peculiar cut, and she keeps her eyes on the floor.
She curtsies deeply when you step off the ship with your father and Lady Aurelia into Harkonnen Palace's ship dock.
"I have been ordered by the Baron to show you to your quarters before the spectacle, Your Grace," the servant says in a small, timid voice.
Your father opens his mouth to reply, but the girl turns on her heel quickly and hurries toward another crowd of visitors being led by another woman in an identical dress. She waits to let the guests from a house you didn't recognize pass before continuing her beeline to the door.
You see Vulcan and Aurelia exchange a glance before all three of you follow after her.
The inside of the Harkonnen Palace is just as bleak as the outside. It is made up of identical black and white hallways; one could easily get lost in them. The servant girl expertly navigates these identical hallways without raising her eyes. She's obviously been here for quite a while. You wonder what horrible things she witnessed, or perhaps endured, in her employment here.
The woman is completely silent until she arrives at a nondescript slate gray door with a black panel installed on the wall next to it. "This is your room, Lady Y/N, and your parents are right beside you."
She motions toward an identical door to the left.
Lady Aurelia goes to her and your father's door and presses her hand to the panel. The panel glows, and the door slides open.
"What did it just do?" your father asks, puzzled.
"The doors to your quarters are programmed, so you need your handprint to get into them, Your Grace," the girl responds. "The Baron has found guests feel more secure when they are the only ones who have access to their living space."
Your father nods and presses his hand to the panel. Lady Aurelia walks into their room without another word.
"Just knock if you need anything, darling," Vulcan said, following her inside.
Their door slides shut behind them, leaving you alone with the servant.
"How did I find my way around?" you ask.
The girl makes eye contact with you for the first time.
"I strongly advise you not to walk around without someone to escort you, My Lady," the servant girl said firmly. "This is not a place where one wants to get lost."
This wasn't a request; it was a warning. The girl's eyes darted back toward the ground. You place your hand on your door's panel. It warms slightly when it scans your handprint. The door slides open, and you step inside. The servant girl won't meet your eye again before the door slides shut.
If you were anyone else, you would feel as though you had stepped into the belly of the beast. But you're not just anyone; you're Bene Gesserit. You're exactly where you're meant to be.
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You sit on an elevated platform that sits slightly lower than the one occupied by the Baron Harkonnen, the Reverend Mother, and your father, the Archduke, along with an unknown count and his wife. The crowds in the stands below are packed with Giedi Prime citizens. The black sun has once again washed the color out of everything. You were provided a pair of small field glasses to view all the fights through.
You're sitting with six other Bene Gesserit sisters that you have never met before. Despite knowing little about them, having some of your sisters here is a comfort.
In some twisted way, you looked forward to having your way with Feyd-Rautha. The Reverend Mother Helen described him as violent, calculating, and isolated. The Baron and his brother, whom they called the Beast, were neither fit to raise an emotionally intelligent, stable child. That only made your job simpler. It doesn't matter how physically strong Feyd-Rautha is; he's sexually and emotionally vulnerable. And you could mold him into whatever you see fit.
The opening fights are lackluster. It's obvious the opponents have been drugged to ensure the safety of the Harkonnen gladiators. You noted this with distaste and nearly rolled your eyes. The Harkonnens claimed to be the most dominant, well-trained fighters in the galaxy, but they couldn't be bothered to truly fight someone without resorting to petty vices and trickery. Nevertheless, the crowd roars with satisfaction whenever blood is spilled on the sand of the gladiator pit.
Now comes the main event: Feyd-Rautha's one-hundredth kill in the gladiator pit. Was this the measure of a Harkonnen man? Slaughtering drugged prisoners was supposed to be a show of power and strength while wearing a shield.
A horn blows, and the crowd begins to shriek and whoop once again. In the arena, a large set of doors slide open, and the Na-Baron emerges from the darkness beyond the doorway, a knife in each hand. He raises them toward the sun and circles the pit. The light of the black sun glints off the blades. He's hairless, like the other inhabitants of his planet. He's dressed in light black armor and practically preens for the crowd before kneeling. He bows his head in respect to his uncle and dedicates this win to the man.
The Baron is satisfied by this display, and the barbarism begins.
taglist: @ariesmai
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lieutenantfloyd · 2 months
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Yooo I'm always happy to see new Dune writers! 🫶 Could you write sth about Feyd and Rabban competing for Reader's affection? Can be HCs or written, whatever suits you most
Competing for your affection headcanons | Feyd-Rautha & Rabban x reader
Warnings: mentions of blood, possessiveness, bullying, polyamory, and implied mental abuse.
Authors note: I have some ideas for a full fic, but I wanted to get some headcanons out first!
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From the moment their feelings arise, they are deeply competitive with each other and wholly possessive of you.
This often leads to physical fights between the brothers, only ceasing once there is a heavy mix of blood and humiliation.
The one thing they can both agree on is that if a threat arises, they will stop at nothing to keep you safe and defend your honor.
Neither one of them is going to try to woo you in a typical or expected manner.
Feyd-Rautha will put his focus into mind games and wearing you down mentally, while Rabban takes an uncharacteristically soft and physical approach.
Rabban fails to understand why Feyd is so outwardly cruel to you and often wonders if he should mimic Feyd’s actions as a way to win you over.
Meanwhile, Feyd takes pleasure in harassing Rabban over his glaring soft spot for you.
The interactions you have with them are wildly different for each brother.
Rabban needs someone to see through his rough exterior and grant him kind words and soft touches. Both things he’s never once received before.
Feyd-Rautha needs devotion, challenge, and the illusion of control. Attend his fights, dress his wounds, and call him sweetly by his title while also alluding to the fact that you will always hold the upper hand.
Their egos and emotional immaturity will eventually lead to their demise, which in turn allows you to toy with the situation as you wish.
If you choose to solely pursue the Na-Baron:
Rabban will descend into an absolute rampage, unable to cope with his unrequited feelings.
Feyd-Rautha, on the other hand, will grow even more confident at his perceived “victory”.
He’ll even go as far as dressing you up in Harkonnen dress and parading you around.
Behind closed doors, however, he’s completely at your mercy.
As Feyd gains more power and you make more public appearances as a couple, the reality of your relationship becomes more widely known.
It’s not long before it becomes glaringly obvious that while Feyd may have birthright and claim to thrones, you are the one truly in control.
If you choose to solely pursue the Count:
Rabban will take you back to his planet of Lankiveil before Feyd-Rautha can sink his blade into his brother's chest.
While at first he feels like he must be harsh to you, it quickly melts away until you see more signs of kindness from Rabban than you ever could have expected.
Rabban has had a hard life, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with or how to convey his feelings to you.
What he does know is how good treating you well makes him feel.
What starts as small gestures—like keeping you well fed and teaching you to defend yourself—eventually manifests into him waiting on you hand and foot.
Controversy will arise as the public becomes aware of your relationship.
The great houses, the brutal society of Geidi prime, and even the rest of the Harkonnens are completely incapable of understanding how you turned their fearsome Beast into your personal lap dog.
If you choose to pursue them both:
It will take careful planning along with keeping their behavior on a tight leash, but the reward certainly outweighs the risk and labor you need to invest in the relationship.
Initially they’ll both be needy, angry, and complicated. Frustrated as to why they can’t have you alone, while also being grateful to receive any affection in return.
You often have to act as a mediator between them.
Over time—and using your love as a common ground—a strange form of respect grows between them.
The Baron does not keep his disdain for your relationship a secret, afraid of how it will affect the House as well as the Emperors and the Bene Gesserit’s plans.
Feyd and Rabban are quick to match his words with their own unconcealed threats.
While their words barely phase him, The Baron is shaken to see the heirs finally getting along even momentarily.
With each of your unique skills now working together, both Feyd and Rabban are happy to serve your personal soldiers while you strategize to gain them more power over House Harkonnen and eventually the Imperium.
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kpopnstarwars · 5 days
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Oh my goodness, I just read your Atonement fic and I LOVED IT, the way Feyd was so soft with reader but also you kept with themes of the original lore
Feyd always reminded me a bit of quotes along the lines of "I remember I have a heart because I feel it breaking" and I just feel like those kinda quotes were MADE for that fic
Thank you so much for writing it!
I'M SO SORRY I DIDN'T REPLY BEFORE AND THANK YOU FOR APPEARING IN MY INBOX
i'm so glad to hear u liked atonement tho, and that quote is genuinely SO TRUE especially for atonement feyd. i wholeheartedly agree with the headcanon that feyd-rautha is much deeper than he first appears and feels a lot more than he lets come across, so uh here have this:
feyd's heart breaks for so many reasons - for his mistreatment by the baron's hand, for his rivalry with rabban, for his dead father and mother, the former killed by his brother and the latter killed by him. his heart breaks for the childhood that was snatched from him by clammy palms and leering eyes. feyd-rautha's heart is fractured, a broken thing, and that everpresent pain is how he remembers that it still remains, even when it is but a weak flutter of a pulse within the cavity of his chest. and yet, you're always there to stitch it back together again. you cradle the pieces of his heart in your gentle hands, your deft fingers healing him, your eyes warm, soft. you mend his heart, and in return, he entrusts it to you.
not sure where this little blurb came from but i always crave hurt/comfort so that's probably why
LOVE YOU NONNIE <33
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transassdemon · 25 days
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OG Relationship dynamic by @animelionessmika (i found the picture on pinterest but if author wants me to delete this post, just contact me) but I remade it into Feyd-Rautha, Paul, me and Rabban
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the-lazy-goth517 · 1 month
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The feels. THE FEELS.
enjoy <3
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tokoyamisstuff · 3 months
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eraenaa · 2 months
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Birthday Present
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Feyd-Rautha x Lady Reader
Synopsis: During a state visit, you, a daughter of one of the great houses, have captured the attention and fatal attraction of the Na-Baron and were quickly turned into his promised wife. 
Warnings: ¿Enemies to Lovers-ish?, Arranged Marriage, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Blood Play, Fingering, Choking, Violence, Murder , Over Stimulation, Not Proofread
Word Count: 5,900 (pls bear with me)
Finally watched Dune: Part Two and needed to make a quick little fic because another psychopath to obsess over with has been unlocked.
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You dreaded for this day to come. You begged your father and brother to just leave you in the safety and comfort of your home, but still, they insisted— practically forced you to join them in the business venture they will partake in Giedi Prime. You walked out of the royal ship with your brother by your side, trying hard not to let the frown slip your face, especially when your fine dress had lost its color due to the planet’s black sun. Your eyes trailed around those who were present as a welcoming party for your kin, “Why are they all bald?” You whispered to your brother, who could not help but snort a laugh at your question. It was unnerving to look at them; no warmth nor life was evident. You were escorted inside the palace and it was barely different from the outside, still bleak and dark and plain. 
You feel curious eyes trail you as you walk with your family, who are being escorted to meet Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. You clenched your jaw and held your breath as you were met with the head of House Harkonnen. You heard tales about him and his state, but none could prepare you enough to be met with him face to face. If you had thought his subjects were already unnerving to look at, you would gladly give up the gift of sight just as long as you no longer had to see nor remember the image of the gruesome Baron. You quickly planted your eyes on the ground, having looked enough at the man who floated about in the middle of the room that you had missed the way that dark blue eyes were planted steadily on your frame. 
“Welcome to Giedi Prime, your Grace,” You hear the Baron greet your Duke father, and you stay silent and hope that they would be quick with the pleasantries and let you retire to rest after the long journey to their dreary planet. You hear the baron address your brother, making him step forward, and you pray for your presence to be ignored, but alas, your name was called, and you feel all eyes upon you. “A beauty this one is, your grace… she looks just like her mother,” The Baron mussed, and you could only offer a tight smile at his praise because you had no recollection of what your mother looked like because the price of your life was hers. You backed away and took your place next to your brother once more as the Baron began to introduce his kin. 
“My nephews, Glossu Rabban,” the baron introduced, and your brother nudged you to raise your gaze and show your host respect and recognition. You did as told and locked eyes with the dark blue orbs that had been entranced upon you ever since you entered the throne room. “And Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” You swallowed thickly and turned stiff as the heir to House Harkonnen stepped down and walked toward your direction. Your linked arms with your brother tightened as the Na-Baron paused before you, bowing and taking your hand into his cold ones before placing a kiss on your knuckles. Feyd-Rautha wanted to smirk at the wide-eyed and blushing state he placed you in. The only greeting you gave him was a quick curtsy and a mumble of “My Lord,” The Na-Baron returned to his place at the right hand of his uncle and kept his gaze tranced on you. 
“How long are we to stay here?” You asked your father as he and your brother escorted you to your chambers. “Until the treaties are settled,” your father replied, and you scrunched your nose as the eyes of Harkonnen subjects followed you wherever you went. “They’re all staring at you,” Your brother mumbled, noticing the curious gazes as well. “Maybe they haven’t seen anyone with color or hair yet,” You distractedly said as you looked behind, the pair of dark blue eyes still haunting and following your every move. “Did I really have to come here?” You asked your father with a frown. “Yes. We could not leave you alone for an extended period— what will happen if our planet suddenly goes to war and you were there, left alone?” Your father asked, his protectiveness shining through. “Then I’d be surrounded by our army and best warriors.” You replied and earned a stern look from your father. “What am I even supposed to do here?” You grumbled and ceased by the door of your guest chambers. “You can explore the planet— do some sightseeing.” He answered, but that only severe your frown. “Sightsee what? Everything here is either black or gray— either bleak or depressing” You said, making your father sigh. “Just get ready for dinner,” He said, and you gave up on fighting them and their decision to drag you to the planet. 
A knock sounded out in your barren chambers. You understood that the palace was pushing some kind of aesthetic, but they took it to an extremity. There was literally just a bed and an armchair in your chambers. A very stark difference from your own room or even the guest chambers in your planet’s palace. Your handmaid opened the door whilst you looked at yourself in the mirror; you were to be escorted by your brother and were expecting him by the door, but hearing the gasp from your handmaid told you otherwise. You looked toward the chamber room door and saw the Na-Baron standing by its threshold; your maid stood by the side, head hung low, and was quietly trembling in fear. 
“Can we help you, Na-Baron?” You asked and smoothened the fabric of your gown. Trying your best not to appear unnerved by his dark gaze or his imposing demeanor. “I am to escort you to the dining room, my lady,” He said and offered his arm for you to take; you made no move to do so. “Oh…my brother was—“ you slightly frown as he cuts you off. “He is already there with your father,” He said, and you licked your lips and hesitantly nodded, having no choice but to take his offer to escort you. 
Feyd eyes curiously at the gown you fashioned and the decorations in your hair. You were a deep and vivid contrast between him and his planet. Your dress made of velvet trained behind you, the heavy and overflowing cloth cutting through the silence between you and the heir of House Harkonnen. You did not know if you should converse with him or just remain silent. And if you did choose the former, what topic of conversation would you even propose to the fearsome— psychotic warrior that is the Na-Baron? 
“How are you finding Giedi Prime, my lady?” His deep and raspy voice cut through the silence, and you thought of an embellished reply that would not offend the warrior. “Different… I— it is most unique, Na-Baron,” You manage to say after a short while, Feyd noting how you struggled to give a kind reply, your brows in a furrow, and your lips would open and close as you thought of what to say. 
You finally could breathe freely, and your stiffened form turned lax when the Na-Baron escorted you to your seat next to your brother and let go of his hold on your hand. You tried your best to keep your gaze away from any of the Harkonnens as you feared they would immediately see the fear and agitation in your eyes. “Is this human?” You lowly whispered to your brother, poking the cut of unidentified meat on your plate. Feyd smirked to himself as he heard the fear in your voice— overly wary, and it would seem the tales of their house had been implanted in your pretty little head. “It is cattle, my lady… but if you do prefer human flesh, our cooks could arrange that for you,” Feyd-Rautha relished at how your eyes widened and your cheeks blossomed with color once more. It was an interesting reaction that he had never been accustomed to see. “No, this is fine,” You quickly said and did not miss the amused smirk on the Na-Baron’s pale lips. 
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The following day, you were set to tour around the planet with your brother along with the Na-Baron. You three had just stepped out of the palace and into the light of the black sun when your brother was suddenly summoned to attend the negotiations. You took a sharp breath and turned to your sibling, widening your eyes and silently willing him not to leave you alone in the presence of the Na-Baron. Your brother could only shrug and place a quick, chaste kiss on the top of your head as he ran back inside the castle walls. 
An awkward and uneasy silence followed you and your host as the tour began. Guards following the both of you in the direction of a large structure— that is as specific as you can get as the resident of the planet has still said no word as to where he was leading you. 
“This… is the arena,” the Na-Baron finally said, and you could hear the delight in his tone as if the brutal and triangular infrastructure had brought him calm and serenity. You nodded your head and wandered your eyes upon the high walls and countless seats that surrounded you. “You shall return here soon enough, a special celebration to take place in a few days,” You hear him say as your gaze was still stuck high above where you were guessing private boxes were placed. When Feyd did not hear your reply, he stepped closer and boldly placed a hand on your waist, making you jump in shock and quickly step away. “You don’t talk much, do you?” He asked. He usually was quiet, only speaking when he thought it necessary and the silence he provided brought an additional sense of mystery to him. But with you… he could not restrain himself as he felt the want— the need to speak. An urge he had never had before, an urge he could not control. 
“I prefer more to listen, my lord,” you answered, a white lie on your lips. You love to talk and blab about anything and everything, but you just did not want to exercise such habits with or around him, fearing he’ll grow annoyed by your yapping and slit your throat— a habit you heard he was fond of. You heard the Na-baron hum, and you avoided his gaze as he stared you down, as if trying to deduce if what you had said was the truth.
You followed the Na-Baron as he led you to more sights and structures that the Harkonnens take pride in. But everywhere you two went, you could not be rid of the curious and wondering gazes that followed. It was not a new scene; being a duke’s daughter meant you had been accustomed and exposed to the public. But being exposed and stared at and gawked at by people so different than you felt entirely unnerving. It made your skin crawl and your body tense uncomfortably. Your once proud and straight stature turned demure and small as you walked the dark and gray halls of the castle, you being the only thing of color and vividness in there, making you feel out of place and suffocated by the plainness.  
The Na-Baron escorted you back to the guest wing and paused by your door; you quickly curtsied and disappeared behind the metal doors to finally put some space and distance between you and the lord you had been forced to spend the day with. Feyd’s jaw clenched as the metal doors closed upon him; if it were anyone else, his patience would have run thin, and he would not looked kindly upon your impertinence. But even in your boorish actions, the Na-Baron could not help but find it amusing— possibly even endearing. 
As you were finished being prepared for yet another dinner, you turned to the doors once more at the sound of the opening, revealing your brother. “How was the tour?” He asked and sat by your bed as you stood in the mirror and adorned yourself with the precious metals and jewels. “When are we to leave? I… I would very much like to return home.” Was your reply as you still felt your skin crawl at how the eyes of the Na-Baron would asses you and your every move. “That bad, huh?” Your brother mused, and you sighed heavily. “I do not like it here, brother… I cannot… this place is entirely bleak and depressing.” You reasoned, and your brother only shook his head at your bellyaching. 
“They barely even have furniture! Their sun is black… there are no gardens or greenery and flowers to admire— I am quite literally the most vivid thing here!” You suddenly exploded, but your brother could only laugh. “Just a few more days, sister… we were most productive earlier. You’ll only have to endure this planet and its plainness for a few days more,” Your brother said, and you solemnly nodded your head, willing yourself to endure and be patient as your whole being wanted nothing but to return home. 
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True to the Na-Baron’s words, you and your kin were in the triangular arena a few days later. A grand celebration for the birthday of the heir of House Harkonnen. Feyd-Rautha stepped out into the black sun and walked onto the pit with the screams and cheers of his house’s subjects. His eyes cast above and searched for only one being— an attention he seeks to be entranced upon him. The Na-Baron felt his lips curl wickedly as your eyes were upon him, seated in the royal box next to your brother. Your expression trying not to show contempt or disapproval. The Na-Baron was known for his skills in fighting— he is the greatest warrior there is. Everyone was impressed and in awe by his skills in combat, and he was certain that it, too, would impress you. 
You clenched your jaw and turned your head to the side as the Na-Baron was relentless in fighting the remaining members of House Atreides. You planted your gaze on your lap and fisted the fabric of your dress as you hear the land of steel and the grunts of prisoners. You took a deep inhale as your brother nudged you once more, urging you to watch the scene as it would be an offense if the Baron caught you ignoring the efforts of his favored nephew. You swallowed thickly and returned your eyes towards the men who fought; there was only one opponent now. 
Feyd-Rautha returned his gaze to you, delighting as you still had your eyes upon him. There was only one prisoner now, only one more man between him and the amazement he thought he would garner from you with his violent display. But as Feyd-Rautha set his eye on the final prisoner, his jaw ticked, and his hold on his blade tightened as he noticed that the Atreides prisoner was not drugged. He turned his spiteful gaze to his uncle, the vile man simply smirking and giving a nod of his head. Dark blue eyes flickered at you, who had her lip between he teeth in anxiousness. The Na-Baron squared his shoulders and refocused; he could not be made a fool nor a failure when the eyes of his planet were upon him— not when your eyes were upon him. As always, Feyd-Rautha emerged victorious in battle. 
“The slave wasn’t drugged,” Feyd said as he stood before his uncle, his form rigged still with the pestering feeling that he might have failed and been humiliated under your gaze. You tried to kill me?” he gritted out, but his uncle was merely amused. “Tonight, you are a hero… my gift to you,” The Baron explained, but that did not sedate the rage in the Na-Baron’s being. “I ought to drown you in that tub,” he snarled, but his uncle chuckled at his threat. “Don’t be hasty… I have another gift for you,” that piqued Feyd’s interest. “A bigger one,” his uncle added. “The girl, the duke’s daughter.” With just the mention of you, the Baron noted the quick shift in his nephew’s temperament. Desire shining through his rage. 
Feyd’s lips staggered as he thought of a reply, as he thought of how his uncle was able to acquire you for him as if you were some mere whore and not a daughter of one of the great houses. “Her father approved?” He asked and saw as a smirk rose to the lips of his uncle. “He had no choice but to… if he wanted the treaties to take place and for war to not come to their planet— he must offer his daughter to you.” Feyd let a rare and sincere grin slip his lips with the thought of you being bound to him. 
By the guest wing, an ugly discussion was taking place. “Father, you cannot be serious,” You all but cried, “To that psychotic Na-Baron!?” You screamed with tears streaming down your face. You knew it; you knew coming to Giedi Prime was a mistake— your intuition warned you greatly, but you ignored it and complied with your father’s wishes and orders. “There was no other way. I’m sorry,” Your father sighed and tried to take hold of you to calm you down. “You would leave me here to be his bride? You would leave me here vulnerable in the desolate walls of these Harkonnens?” You cried in pain, but your expression turned confused as your father shook his head. 
“The Na-Baron, your betrothed, will be heir to Arakis… you shall stay and rule there with him.” You hear the hopeful tone in your father’s voice as he tells you that you will be the lady of the most coveted seat and planet in the universe. “You… you cannot do this to me— please do not do this to me, father, I beg of you,” You cried, only crying harder as your father took you into his arms and offered you his apologies once more. Nothing can be done; you were now promised to the fearsome and formidable Na-Baron. 
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They arranged for you to acquaint yourself more with your soon-to-be husband. Servants of House Harkonnen escorted you to him, and you followed mindlessly, but your stomach pitted in fear as you realized you had been led to the Na-Baron’s chambers. Your lips agape, and looked behind to see the servants hurriedly shuffling out of the Na-Baron’s room. You felt yourself grow cold and the life in your face went pale. You cautiously looked around the chambers and saw three women by your right, dressed and styled differently than the servants. The presence of women used to always bring you comfort in uncertain scenarios, but the three present did not aid your raging fear. 
“What’s so special about her?” You hear one of them drawl to the other, and you feel your lips upturn in confused fear. “Such a pitiful thing… weak and so fragile, could not even stomach to watch our lord handsomely fighting those puny slaves,” You frown and finally turn to them, the three just as eerie and disturbing to look at as any of their people, maybe even more so. “So what does she have to be rewarded with our great master Feyd-Rautha?” A third girl asked, and that is when you realized what their roles were. They looked at you expectantly, trying to know what you possessed to be rewarded or punished with the title of the Na-Baron’s betrothed. “I do not know,” you began, “Perhaps hair? Or sanity? Take your pick.” You boldly replied and watched as their teasing and amused looks turned scathing and jealous. Before any of them could make another remark, the sound of the door opening and boots walking the floor echoed through the room. Your expression was hard as you watched the three girls lower their heads demurely and out of respect as their master entered. 
“Ah, my future wife… I see you have met my darlings,” You turned to your betrothed, a smirk on his lips and his dark eyes sickeningly delighted as he was in a room filled with women he was certain would bring him much pleasure. You licked your lips and crossed your arms across your chest, your gaze flying to the three women who brazenly insulted you just mere moments ago. “You whores,” You boldly stated and let a fleeting smirk fly to your lips as you heard them hiss at your true statement. “My darlings.” Feyd-Rauth corrected, defending his loyal pets. You hummed and nodded your head. Finally, matching the fiery gaze of the Na-Baron. Every second you held his gaze, Feyd felt himself tighten against his trousers. You had always shielded your gaze from him, never letting him stare deep into those enchanting and lively eyes, and now that he did, all he wanted to do was stare into them, watch as tears would form when he made you cry in pleasure. 
“I always thought whores are acquired after marriage, but I suppose the Na-Baron is always one step ahead,” You bitterly mused at the man across from you, expecting him to grow enraged as you called his ‘darlings’ whores once more. But instead of rage, you only saw the smirk on the Na-Baron’s lips widen. “Are you jealous, little wife?” He asked and threaded closer, you let a frown slip your pretty face and a scoff left your lips. “Do not call me that,” You gritted. “And no, I am not… in all honesty, I am relieved in their existence if it means that you would be preoccupied and far from me and my bed; you could have a hundred ‘darlings’ for all I care,”  You stood your ground no matter how your mind went alarmed at the murderous look on your betrothed’s once amused expression. 
You chewed your cheeks as the Na-Baron silently motioned for the three women to step closer. You thought he was testing you, to see if you were truly unbothered and not at all jealous that your future husband was being satisfied by other women, but you gasped in horror as Feyd-Rautha swiftly took his dagger and slit the throats of his three pets. They fell at your feet, and you could only watch and step back in horror at the scene of black blood pooling and spewing from their throats. You were trembling, and Feyd-Rautha took you into his arms, forcing your face to look at him, enjoying the horror in your eyes. “Now, nothing will keep me from you and your bed, wife,” he lowly whispered, and you were defenseless as he captured your lips. Hungrily kissing you and pulling you impossibly closer to him to feel the softness of your frame as blood flooded under your feet. 
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All was quick to fall into place. One moment, it was announced you were to be wed to the heir of House Harkonnen, and the next, you were being prepared for the actual ceremonies. You felt bile rising and tears falling as you stared at yourself in the mirror. A gown of white in the make and design of your home planet rather than the fashion of Giedi Prime. “You look beautiful, sister,” Your brother complimented quietly. He, too, turned solemn as he had no way to protect you from the arrangements made behind closed doors. “Let’s just get this over with,” You mumbled and took his arm for what you believed would be the last time. 
You were being escorted down the aisle by your father,  Feyd-Rautha’s eyes upon you impatiently; he could no longer wait any further and suffer through the ceremonies and banquets before he had you alone in his chambers. After your kiss two nights prior, you quickly left the chambers and left the Na-Baron to want and desire more. Each moment that had passed has left him hard and strained, with no other outlet for his needs to be quenched and met; his only choice was to wait for you to be his wife. 
It should shame you to admit, but the kiss you shared with the Na-Baron didn’t leave you disgusted. It was alarming to note that your body had turned warm, and throughout the night, your thoughts strayed to wanting more. You had been kissed before, once, but it was nothing compared to the way Feyd-Rautha kissed your lips. 
You stood by his side as a man in front spoke in a language you could not comprehend or understand. The only thing your mind could focus on was the way the Na-Baron’s hand held yours. Cold and calloused palms enclosed around warm and soft ones. You raised your gaze as the man in front of the two of you finally spoke words you understood, announcing to the room that you and the Na-Baron were officially husband and wife. You set your eyes upon Feyd-Rautha, whose dark eyes were on your lips. Letting go of your hand and taking hold of your face to kiss your lips without warning. It was a quicker kiss than the one shared the previous night, and you were dismayed yourself as your body wanted more, so much more. 
Feyd smirked as he saw color bloom onto your cheeks and felt its warmness against his cold touch. No word was exchanged as he escorted you through the aisle, the cheers of his subjects ringing loudly; absent were the reactions of you and your kin. You were still silent during the banquet, only offering a ghost of a smile when you two were approached and presented with ‘congratulations.’ You tried to ignore the way your body responded when your husband placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze now and then through the fabric of your gown. “You look ravishing, my darling,” You hear him whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending a chill down your spine. 
“Do not call me that,” you gritted as you had no wish to share an endearment he used with his whores. Feyd smirked as he believed that heard a hint of jealousy in your honey voice, “And what would you like to be called, wife?” He asked, and you clenched your jaw and thighs as that brought a surprising twist in your core. Your reaction was not missed by the Na-Baron, a wicked smirk spreading to his lips and his hand inching higher from your thigh. “Tell me, wife… are you too as excited as I am for the bedding?” He teased and nipped your ear, making you gasp, turning to him with shock and wanting-filled eyes. Your eyes shifted from his dark blue orbs to his plush lips, and the desire for it to be against you became increasingly prominent. You gulped as his eyes turned impossibly darker and his jaw clenched, you took a sharp intake of breath as he abruptly stood. “The feast is finished, leave.” That was all he said before he urged you to stand and dragged you to his chambers. 
You were like putty in his arms as he pushed you up against the cold wall of his chambers. Your lips roughly danced against each other, and his hands hiked up your wedding dress, leaving fire with his cold touch. For days, you had convinced yourself you felt no attraction to the man who had his lips on you’re neck and hand against your cunt. “You are a great actress, wife. Making me believe you hated me— wanted nothing to do with me, but that cannot be true, not when your cunt is so wet and ready for me.” You gasped as he inserted his finger inside you without warning— the feeling foreign, and you did not know if you should embrace the uncomfortability or the prospect that pleasure was quick to bloom. “So tight… my little wife had never been defiled— that shall change,” He mused against your lips, swallowing your whine when he inserted another finger inside your wet cunt. 
“M-My lord,” You cried at the curl of his finger; you heard him ‘tsk’ and rub his thumb against the sensitive bundles of nerves on your cunt. “Enough with the formalities. I am your husband, and you will call me by my name— you will scream my name when you come.” Your eyes rolled back as his other hand clasped around your neck, your husband thrilled and overjoyed as you only clenched tightly around him, and a pleasured moan slipped past your lips. He thought he’d have to be gentle with you— that he would scare you with his savage desires, but as he felt you cling and clench to him as he added more pressure around your throat, he knew you would be able to take and would be grateful for his brazenness in fucking. 
“Feyd… Feyd!” You cried as you felt your thighs tremble and your core painfully twists in want of release. You whined and cried as you felt his fingers slip out of you, your knees weak and your body desperate for release. “Patience, little wife,” Your husband cruelly mussed, his eyes locked upon you as he licked the essence of you clean from his fingers. You moaned as his lips met yours again, tasting yourself as his tongue teased yours. You whimpered as he placed his rough hands tights on your hips, imprinting his mark and making it known to you that he was yours. You groaned as he bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, him pulling away to admire the red the beaded on your plump, sweet lips. “Such a pretty color…” he murmured and bought his finger to wipe away the blood and taste it, you growing more aroused as a rumble emerged from his throat. Feyd watched as more blood dripped from your lips, and he wasted not a drop of it, kissing and tasting all of you. 
Feyd moved the two of you to his bed, pushing you down on the soft, silk-coved mattress. You swallowed thickly as he took out his dagger once more, a grin on his lips as he saw a speck of fear in your eyes. “Such a beauty you look in this dress… but I know you’ll look better without it,” He took the dagger and cut through your fine gown, nicking your stomach on the way. Feyd zeroed in on your sweet blood once more, his eyes hungrily taking in your body that was now exposed to him. “Oh…” You moaned as his tongue soothed the cut he made, his tongue teasing you as it would thread lower but would return to the cut every time it oozed blood. “Feyd… please,” You finally relinquished and let your needs be known. He hummed as his cock grew harder at your moans. 
“What do you want, little wife?” he hummed and took a deep breath of your scent. You whined as his tongue teased your navel, and his lips threaded further south but quickly moved north again. You moaned as his black teeth gently bit your bosom, his cold hand pawing at the other, your nipples taut by his cold hand and hot tongue. “Tell me, little wife, what do you want?” You whimpered again as nipped your skin once more, “You. I… I want you,” You finally said and yelled when Feyd flipped you to your stomach. Anticipation sat heavily as you heard him shuffling to remove his clothing. You breathed harshly as you felt his hands on your behind, kneading the smooth, plump flesh; his thumb teasingly brushed your cunt, and you were quick to moan. 
“What did you want again, my pretty wife?” He hummed by your ear, his toned body pressing against your back, his throbbing cock resting on your derrière. “You, I want you. Please, Feyd… I— please just fuck me,” You cried and let go of any pride you had in exchange for feeling pleasure. You howled as his thick and large length pushed its way inside you. Feyd hissing as the tip of his cock was being squeezed by your cunt. You were wet, galaxies, you were wet. But not wet enough for your husband’s cock to slip inside comfortably. Friction and resistance were prominent, and Feyd enjoyed that tremendously. Excruciating pain first had to be felt before you could feel the pleasure that you were desperate for. 
You gasped and felt tears rim your eyes as a cold hand found home around your neck again. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Feyd hissed as he fully sheathed himself inside you; his hand felt the trickle of pained tears, and he was determined to turn it into tears of pleasure. “Such a good wife taking all of me,” He praised and squeezed your neck tighter. You whimpered and raised your gaze, only now noticing that the wall that your husband’s bed rested upon was entirely reflective that you could see him in all of his glory. Knelt behind you and a pleasured expression on his face as he gradually moved his length in and out of you. 
It felt like eons before you finally felt pleasure, but when it finally came, it was the most blissful feeling you had experienced in your life. The way he harshly gripped your throat, the way that his lips would pepper kisses on your shoulders and back, was enough to quickly drive you into climax. One where you screamed and called for his name, begging him to slow down, but he did no such thing. Only increased his speed and moved his hand to draw circles upon your bundle of nerves, coaxing another climax from you, making you scream his name louder and your body over-sensitive. “Feyd, Feyd, no more, please,” You cried as your whole body was already exhausted and trembling. 
“I do not understand you, wife. Just earlier, you were begging for this… you were begging to be fucked by me.” He grunted as he, too, felt his peak to come. He moved his hands to bundle your hair, the texture so soft and foreign, his fingers running through the locks and pulling it to make you groan. “Such a perfect cunt, such a perfect wife. You will sire me many heirs… you will always be my side.” Feyd groaned as you squeezed his length tighter and tighter to the point he felt pleasurable pain. You hear his animalistic growl when he finally spills himself deep inside of you, watching through the reflective wall as his face contorted into sheer pleasure, his rasping voice repeating your name as you feel both of your essences drip on the inside of your thigh.
He moved your head for your lips to meet with his again, him biting down to draw blood once more. You pulled away and gasped for air as well as gasped in shock as you felt his once limped and just emptied length grow erect inside you. “Did you truly think we were finished?” He asked against your lips. “I’m going to fuck and breed you until you’re unable to walk, little wife.”
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sansaorgana · 1 month
Text
— DAMAGED GOODS
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Rabban/Harkonnen!OC
SUMMARY — The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks – her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... 😁 It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. 🤍
WARNINGS — INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding
WORD COUNT — 6,610
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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DAMAGED GOODS
Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews – small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servants’ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didn’t have any heirs of his own so one day he’d name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.
They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.
“My Lord,” she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. “What about the girl, my Lord?” She asked.
The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rautha’s twin sister (Y/N) Rabban – he had no use for her.
“Give her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,” he commented as Glossu’s muscles stiffened under his uncle’s touch.
“She is my sister,” his eyes widened at those words. “Please, let her come with us.”
“You will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girl…” Baron Vladimir winced. “I do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.”
“Then I will raise her. I will take care of her,” Glossu pleaded. “And one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,” he kept convincing.
The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didn’t want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.
“Fine, I shall take her,” he sighed.
Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.
“You’re responsible for her now,” he reminded.
“She is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,” Rabban nodded.
About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.
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(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently – he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncle’s pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about women’s education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didn’t mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabban’s daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.
They were not identical twins – she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin… and their blood.
The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.
(Y/N)’s chambers were connected to Feyd’s with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brother’s embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their mother’s womb.
She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncle’s punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable. 
(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.
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The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.
“What are you asking of me, woman?” He asked as he looked her up and down.
The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.
“I want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if she’s fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,” she repeated her words.
“I am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,” The Baron shook his head. “What makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?”
“Atreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesn’t have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.”
“And what do I get of this union?” The Baron snorted.
“Control over your enemy; The Atreides family,” the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.
“Control over them? By sending that girl over there?” The Baron laughed at the idea. “She’s a weak woman. She won’t have control over anything.”
“Paul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,” the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if he’d argue even further she would just use The Voice.
“Alright then,” he shrugged his arms. “Put her to a test. If she dies, you’ll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I won’t deal with their pathetic tears.”
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Feyd didn’t know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.
The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.
“Where were you?” Feyd squinted his eyes at her.
“The Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,” she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.
“What do you mean weird?” Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.
He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. “What did she look like?”, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was – “Just look at our sister”.
“She put me to a test. You’d like it,” (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. “It was painful,” she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.
“She hurt you,” Feyd’s question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.
“I’m fine,” (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. “Such a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,” she teased.
“Twenty minutes older,” Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. “Age does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,” he pointed out angrily.
“Grumpy, grumpy, Feyd,” she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. “Don’t be so sure I’m that helpless… I’ve been watching you train my whole life. I’ve learnt a thing or two,” she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.
He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didn’t mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadn’t been fantasising about it many times before.
She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.
In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.
“You’re getting too excited, brother,” she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that – on top of him, in control.
“You’re mine,” he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. “You’re mine and only mine. Forever,” he breathed out.
“That’s an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,” she smiled, “but you do know that our brother is raising me to be another man’s lady.”
“You will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,” Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.
“Stop talking nonsense,” she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just… had to.
“I do mean that,” he drawled as her eyes widened at him.
“I know,” she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.
Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.
“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.
“You’re like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,” she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.
“I’m trying very hard not to violate you. Don’t tease,” he warned.
“Your own sister?” She grinned, showing off her black teeth.
As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused – it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.
That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brother’s chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. “I’ve gotten my arse whooped,” she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.
Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her – telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.
And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. He’d pull her closer and she’d open her arms to welcome him. He’d fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.
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Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time he’d succeed and make a boo sound each time he’d lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldn’t imagine training without her around anymore.
At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.
“What do you want? Why are you interrupting me?” He asked Glossu.
“I am not here for you,” his brother extended his hand towards their sister. “(Y/N), come with me. It is important,” he insisted and she whined. “Our uncle requires your presence.”
“Why?” Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.
“It is none of your business, Feyd,” Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brother’s knife pressed to his neck.
“Everything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,” Feyd hissed.
“Leave him alone,” she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why – their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.
But only one of them loved her… so much.
She put her hands around Glossu’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.
“Your presence was not requested,” his brother remarked.
“Don’t tease him so,” (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.
Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family – dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing – their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.
“Ah, here they are,” The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. “My eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.”
She let go of her older brother’s hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever she’d act like a lady – like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.
“That insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)’s twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,” Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.
“(Y/N), child, come closer,” The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasn’t treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.
She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feyd’s heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.
“You will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,” The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.
Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.
“It is a great honour,” she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. “Do not be scared of me, my Lord,” she chuckled delicately. “I am nothing like my brothers.”
Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word – rudely and risking his uncle’s punishment – he turned around and left the room.
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He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.
“What are you doing?” Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.
“I shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,” she muttered without even looking up at him.
“Since when do you care?” Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.
“Since I am getting married soon,” she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.
“You really think I’m going to allow this union, dear sister?” He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.
“You have nothing to say in that matter, brother,” she reminded him. “You are nothing but our uncle’s pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha… If only they knew that you’re not scary at all,” she remarked as his jaw clenched.
“I will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,” Feyd threatened.
“We both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,” she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.
“How can you not oppose this marriage?” Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.
His sister’s facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.
“I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,” she explained softly. “I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldn’t wait for that day. I want to… No, I need to get away from here… from you,” she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. “You’re poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncle’s sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,” she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.
She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didn’t kiss him back this time.
When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.
“Stay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,” she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.
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But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didn’t trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.
Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothed’s planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls. 
He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.
Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sister’s lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.
No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.
He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)’s bedroom, he patiently waited.
After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.
She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when she’d notice him.
“I know you’re here,” she sighed without looking back. “I can recognise your stench,” she drawled.
He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.
“You’ve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,” he pointed out.
“I meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,” she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. “What do you want from me?”
“I saw you with him,” he breathed out.
“I know. I see you in the shadows every time,” she sneered. “I recommend finding a different hobby.”
“You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,” Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.
She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.
Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.
“Leave me alone,” she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.
In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her – she wanted it, too. 
He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before she’d move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.
On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back – he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldn’t scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. “You’re my other half.”
He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.
“No Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,” he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. “You’re mine,” he reminded her.
She tried to protest but he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.
She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.
“Do you know what you taste like?” He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. “Like me,” he pointed out. “Because we belong together,” he reminded her and she whined.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.
He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.
“You will rule with me as my Baroness,” he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. “We will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,” he crooned to her maliciously. “You were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,” he kept repeating.
She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother – complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.
He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didn’t want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.
What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.
None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.
She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.
His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.
“Shh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,” he cooed and she didn’t have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.
When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.
“Now, when you’ve been claimed by me,” Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, “no other man will want you. Not when you’re surely carrying my spawn in your womb,” he added and left the room without a word.
He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldn’t take this back now, though, and he didn’t want to. It just had to be done.
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The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Mother’s gaze.
Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.
Glossu Rabban’s face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha – the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.
“What are you smiling about, boy?” The Reverend Mother scolded him. “Have you got any idea what you have done?”
“I’ve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,” he reminded her.
“Which was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!” The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. “Your sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreides’ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!”
“I do not care about your schemes,” Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.
“Stay away from her,” Glossu barked.
“Or what? She’s already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?” Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.
“She can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,” The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. “We can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,” he assured Duke Leto. “As a whore that she apparently is.”
Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.
“Over my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,” he drawled through gritted teeth.
“Inbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,” The Reverend Mother informed him. “She’s carrying a demon.”
Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.
At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.
“I've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,” he decided. “Feyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,” he said.
“That is plain disrespect!” Duke Leto raised his voice. “We have agreed to this union despite the bride being… not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.”
Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.
“Let them go,” he chuckled. “Soon, their time will come anyway.”
“Not before we secure young Paul Atreides’ bloodline!” The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. “My Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just right…!” Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.
“So, it’s settled,” Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. “You owe me for that, Feyd,” he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. “I knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.”
“I am sorry!” Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. “I am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes right…”
“But everything did go right,” Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. “(Y/N), darling, come here…” He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. “When you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,” he admitted as he held her hand. “Your brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.”
(Y/N) didn’t react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncle’s eyes.
“Turns out he was right,” The Baron continued, “you are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole Empire…” He hummed and she nodded. “From now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,” he announced as her eyes sparkled.
“Thank you, uncle,” she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.
Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.
“You have my blessing,” The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.
Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.
He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.
“Are you happy, dear sister?” He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.
“We belong together,” she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. “I was made for you,” she added.
She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.
“I asked, are you happy, dear sister?” He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.
She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:
“I am.”
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MASTERLIST
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dunebrat · 2 months
Text
FORBIDDEN HEIR ˚ ♡ ˚
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Feyd Rautha x reader
Summary : you find yourself trapped in a loveless marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, a man whose brutality knows no bounds. Unable to bear him an heir, you turn to Feyd Rautha, in a desperate bid to secure your position within the ruthless Harkonnen house
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As a year passed since your marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, whispers began to swirl among the women of the court. Their curious glances and subtle inquiries cut deeper than any blade, their judgment heavy in the air like a suffocating fog. You, younger than your husband and eager to prove your worth, felt the weight of their scrutiny like a leaden burden upon your shoulders. Each passing day brought with it a new wave of gossip, their tongues wagging with speculation and thinly veiled accusations.
"Why hasn't she borne him an heir yet?"
"Is she barren, or just unwilling to fulfill her duty?"
"She's too young to understand the importance of her role."
Their words stung like venom, poisoning the fragile bond between you and Glossu. As the months pass by, your husband becomes increasingly frustrated by your inability to conceive. He watches as other noble families celebrate the arrival of heirs, while the halls of the Harkonnen palace remain devoid of the pitter-patter of tiny feet. "Why have you not given me an heir yet?" he demands, his voice laced with anger and disappointment.
You feel a pang of guilt and shame as his accusatory gaze falls upon you. You know the truth that it's not for lack of trying, but rather a cruel twist of fate that has left you barren. You try to explain, to reassure him that you are doing everything in your power to fulfill your duty, but Glossu's fury knows no bounds. "You are worthless to me if you cannot bear me a child!" he bellows, his words echoing through the palace corridors.
You shrink back, feeling the weight of his words like a physical blow. You have devoted yourself to him, to the Harkonnen name, and yet it seems that will never be enough. Women were
Later that night with trembling hands and a heart heavy with guilt, you approached Feyd-Rautha. His aura, both dark and dangerous, sent shivers down your spine. But this was your last chance for a child, a flicker of hope in a sea of despair. "Please," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, "it's not Glossu's fault. Your brother's health that stands in our way. I beg of you, Feyd, help me conceive an heir or I will be sent away if I cannot do this"
His gaze bore into yours, a calculating glint betraying the mask of indifference he wore. Silence hung in the air. Then, with a tilt of his head and a ghost of a smile, Feyd-Rautha spoke, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel. "I'll consider your proposal, but remember, my dear sister-in-law, every deal with the devil comes with its price."
"I understand. Whatever the cost, I am willing to pay it." You responded
He smirks as he turns to leave, you're left alone with your thoughts
Later that night you found yourself underneath him, his cock pounding into you as he took what was rightfully yours. You could feel the power and dominance of him inside you, claiming your body for himself.
He wanted to breed you, to make you his. And as he continued to fuck you with a primal intensity, it was clear that this wasn't just about sex for him-it was an act of possession and control. He wanted to own you, and he was going to take what he thought belonged to him. He went for hours claiming you as your husband was away on another planet handling business. Taking you in every position and using your body for his own pleasure. He doesn't care about your needs or desires-he just wants to use you as a vessel for his lustful urges.
He cums inside you
you feel his hot seed fill your womb. He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath. You lay there beneath him, feeling the weight of his body pressing down upon yours. You can feel his heart beating against your chest, and you know that he is still inside of you. He slowly pulls out of you with a soft moan as the last drops of cum drip from him onto you.
He rolls off of you and lays next to you, his breathing still heavy. You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath as well. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, and it's a strange feeling. It feels like he has claimed your body as his own-like this is what was always meant to be between the two of you. You reach down and touch your pussy, feeling the wetness of his cum on you. It's a strange sensation-one that is both comforting and exciting at the same time.
The affair between you and Feyd unfolded as the nights passed, your meetings became bolder. As the weeks passed, a wave of nausea washed over you, leaving you weak and trembling in its wake.
Desperate for relief, you sought solace in the chambers of the healers, their gentle ministrations offering fleeting respite from the relentless onslaught of sickness. Yet, despite their best efforts, the cause of your affliction remained a mystery, shrouded in uncertainty and fear. Then, one fateful day, Glossu's booming voice echoed through the halls of the stronghold, his announcement sending shockwaves through the court like a bolt of lightning on a clear day.
"Gather round, my loyal subjects," he declared, his voice ringing with pride and triumph. "For it brings me great joy to announce that my beloved wife is with child."
A chorus of cheers erupted from the assembled crowd, their cries mingling with the pounding of your heart as you stood frozen in disbelief.
A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of Feyd's lips as you make eye contact with the true father of your child
Part 2 coming soon 𓏲◜ 🎀
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francis-writes · 1 month
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Hello, dear. Do you still take requests for Harkonnens? If you do, could I please ask you for some headcanons about Rabban being in arranged marriage with reader, who has completely different attidute than him? She is calm, patient (especially with him), polite and gentle-hearted and so on. What would he feel like towards her? Thank you in an advance, drink plenty of water and have a nice day
Beast Rabban with calm S/O HCs
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Tbh at first he didn't pay much attention. He had a lot of other things on his head, and arranged marriage seemed just like another duty. He didn't mind it tho, he knew that's is rather a usual thing expected from members of nobility, moreover he usually avoided arguing with his uncle.
So when he waited for meeting you and the wedding, he didn't have any expectations. He didn't even expect you to like each other. After all, it was all decided for you and it was just a political formality. You only had to solidify alliance between your Houses and produce an heir. After that, you could not see each other and he would just find some new concubines.
So at the beginning of your marriage he didn't pay much attention to you but when you try to get closer to him and treat him with sincere kindness, it catches his attention. He's a bit suspicious at first, he isn't used to this kind of treatment. People either push him around and humiliate him (his family) or look at him with fear (everybody else, his soldiers, slaves, and inhabitants of the planets he rules). So for some time he wonders if your gentle approach is a trick or maybe some hidden mockery. He accepts your behaviour but still keeps his distance to observe you and decide what are your intentions. It may seem paranoid but you understand that in politics it's better to be too suspicious than not careful enough. Especially if you're part of House Harkonnen, where danger can hide as well in other families as in your own.
When he finally gets used to your attitude and understands that you're genuine with your gentleness, well, he has mixed reaction.
At one hand he really enjoys your kindness, and that you treat him with calmness and respect, but sometimes when he's angry, your patience and unaffected composure only annoy him more. He can't stand that you can control you're emotions while he's filled with rage. He may scream at you but he won't hurt you physically and he will rather quickly leave the room before going too far. Anyway he's filled with remorse and shame later. It's hard for Rabban to admit his mistakes, so his apology is short "I'm sorry", but he tries to make up for the wrongs he did and he treats you extra good.
After some time, when you get closer to each other, you manage to calm his outburst a bit and comfort him during his emotional states. Your patience is not annoying anymore, he doesn't feel mocked, but now he rather treats you as a safe place (like, whatever happens, he knows he can count on you, trust you, you will support him and won't betray him). His outburst aren't that aggresive, especially when you are close.
It's not only effect of calming him in that moments, it's your company in general. Some people already pointed out that Baron probably deliberately increased Rabban's mental instability and his aggressiveness to play him easily like a tool. Baron made him a hounded animal, a rabid dog, terrified and mad at the same time, easy to control. Your gentle approach slowly, but definitely, helped Rabban feel safe and appreciated, and it further affected his behaviour. Well, he doesn't become a saint, but he controls his emotions more. And what's most important, he feels loved.
Other Harkonnens may find your gentle heart a weakness, but they admire the calmness you take his outbursts with nonetheless. And all his subordinates are simply grateful for calming him.
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cnt-21 · 2 months
Text
Endless Nighttime Sky
pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x f!reader
summary: feyd-rautha was never supposed to be a harkonnen.
wc: 2240
warnings: angst, canon typical violence, referenced sex, references to the baron being a creep, major character death
a/n: i merged pt 2 movie feyd and book feyd bc my antidepressants won’t let me sleep or cry or feel so now we all suffer
Feyd-Rautha’s life has never been colorful, even before his Uncle brought him and his brother to Giedi Prime after the incident. But Lankiveil was a different type of colorless than Giedi Prime. Endless snow and endless sea and endless sky were only ever interrupted by the occasional building or boat or cloud, it was a natural absence of color. On Giedi Prime, color wasn’t absent, rather, it was stolen. Extinguished by the light of the black sun.
As a child, he could step outside and see the pink of his skin, the blue of the sea, and her cerise colored lips stretched into a smile. Feyd tried not to think of such things underneath the black sun of Giedi Prime, focusing instead on the blades in his hands, the rush of blood in his veins, and the roar of the crowd as he cut down his opponent. It’s easy in the arena, watching the blood seep out of wounds of the fighting men, like watching ink bleed across paper.
As the second son of a second son, Feyd shouldn’t have been the heir to anything, let alone his Uncle’s Barony, but his Uncle’s preferences and his brother’s violent tendencies all but shoved the title of na-Baron into his lap. He wishes he could’ve kept his mother’s name, wishes the name Rabban hadn’t been tainted by his degenerate brother, wishes he hadn’t been corrupted by the Harkonnen name.
Glossu was supposed to be Uncle’s heir. Glossu “Beast” Rabban should’ve been na-Baron Glossu Harkonnen. Glossu was supposed to go to Giedi Prime by himself, and Feyd wouldn’t have had to learn to fight as a gladiator, to hide poison needles in his clothes, to seek comfort in pleasure slaves and pain. Feyd-Rautha Rabban would’ve learned how to navigate using the stars and how to sail the icy seas and how to love his wife, a girl promised to him since conception.
He thinks he already did love her, when he was a child and still the future Count of Lankiveil and she was the future Countess. He remembers her fondly with a burning behind his eyes and a tightness in his chest that he suppresses because that is a weakness he cannot afford. But sometimes when he’s alone, after a fight or a fuck or another filler, he allows himself to think of cold nights. Whale fur kept the two of them dry and warm in the snow as they made their way to the lighthouse. They’d race up the stairs and he would win every time because his legs were slightly longer and he could take two at a time and only trip once.
The door to the gallery was heavy, but he’d manage to open it before she could catch up with him. He would hold it open for her until she joined him outside, and they’d laugh at their mingling breath visible in the frigid air before leaning against the railing, uncaring of whether or not the old metal could hold their combined weight. She would point at which constellations were visible in the sky and list off the most memorable stars. Feyd would listen even though he already knew which constellations were out and every star in each one, not just the brightest or prettiest sounding, because he was the future Count of Lankiveil and he would need to know those things. But letting her talk meant he could watch her, admire her red nose, rosy cheeks, cerise smile, and messy hair.
Feyd can’t remember which stars she had chosen to name their children after, can’t even remember which constellations were visible on Lankiveil from the Rabban manse. Giedi Prime is far, surrounded by different constellations, different stars, and polluted with millennia of industry. Even if he looked to the sky, there wouldn’t be any stars to name.
He doesn’t think of stars in the arena. Or even the black sun and the colors it stole. He focuses on the blades in his hand, the drugged Atreides soldiers he is meant to kill, and Lady Margot Fenring. Except one of the soldiers isn’t drugged. It’s not really a problem, Feyd is an excellent fighter. Gladiator fights are mere public training matches for him. It’s been years since he struggled against anyone in a fight. But it’s unexpected, which means someone planned to catch him off guard. He would accuse Glossu if he thought his brother had the intelligence to come up with such a plan. It could only be his Uncle and that twisted Mentat of his.
The sober soldier’s movements are too exact, missing the sluggish, inaccurate movements of intoxication. If he were a lesser man he’d let his surprise affect his fighting, slip up, make a mistake, but he was trained for this. The fireworks go off, signaling his victory with inky explosions in the sky, all color and brightness consumed by the black hole sun, and Feyd represses the memories of his first fight—not in the arena, but at home. On Lankiveil, in the snow, him against Glossu.
Lady Margot Fenring proves to be an excellent comfort. She provides the necessary pain and pleasure while he’s free to relinquish control. But he’s grown too accustomed to the almost inhuman appearance of those on Giedi Prime. Their hairless, paper white skin, dilated pupils, androgynous figures. It’s easy to lose track of who is who, to pretend the pain and pleasure is entirely him, that he is whole. But Lady Margot Fenring doesn’t subscribe to the beauty standards of Giedi Prime. In the unnatural lighting of his chambers, he can see the pink of her skin, her pupil surrounded by her iris, and the peach fuzz on her arms.
When Lady Margot Fenring leaves, Feyd allows himself to remember the girl that would have been his wife. They would have been married by now. It would’ve been a winter wedding regardless of season because there was always a pileup of snow near the Rabban manse. Her dress would have been as white as the snow, made of silk and lined with whale fur to keep warm, and dripping in diamonds and pearls. She’d be a woman grown, bust and waist filled out, but her nose red, cheeks rosy, and her cerise colored lips curved in a smile. They’d consummate their marriage in the warmth of the Rabban manse and he’d have his own future Count of Lankiveil on the way.
Feyd can understand the economic allure of Arrakis, but actually being on the desert planet feels wrong. He was born on the snowy seaside, the complete opposite of Arrakis. Dry heat feels uncomfortable on his skin, reminding him of the warnings his parents told him about frostbite, becoming so cold you believe you're overheating. But his presence was necessary, otherwise his Uncle’s scheming for him to end up on the throne would all be for naught.
He’s not particularly worried when Arrakeen is attacked. When he’s rounded up with the Emperor and his people to meet the leader of the fremen, the one they call Muad’Dib, he allows the guards to take his weapons and ignores the one that openly glares at him with pure loathing. He stands at the back of the crowd, vaguely listening to the apparently not dead Paul Atreides bicker with the old crone before addressing the Emperor. It’s much the same drivel as before, until—
“Majesty, is there a Harkonnen among you?”
“I believe my entourage has been placed under the protection of your ducal word.”
And again Atreides begins his bickering with the Emperor, setting a trap until he gets what he wants.
“Kanly!”
Feyd has grown tired of this.
“Your father named his vendetta, Atreides. You call me a coward while you hide among your women and offer to send a lackey against me!”
There is no black hole sun on Arrakis to steal away the color, no blades in his hand to wield against inebriated flesh, no pleasure for comfort. Only pain.
The Emperor and his truthsayer discuss the rules of kanly. Atreides’ own people try to talk him out of the challenge.
“Is the Atreides ready?” Feyd called once the Emperor’s blade sat alone on the floor, everyone else cleared away for the ritual duel.
“May thy knife chip and shatter!” Atreides forwent the ritual words, gesturing for Feyd to pick up the Emperor’s blade.
“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Feyd mocked, getting a feel for the knife in his hand.
“Shall we fight, cousin?” Atreides asked, cat-footing forward with his own blade in hand, crouched low to the floor.
“How beautifully you dance,” Feyd said as they began to circle each other, meeting his eyes and forcing himself to remain composed as he’s reminded of a frigid sea. “Have you been shriven?”
No response. Only blue within blue.
They circle each other.
He continues his taunts, earning only a smile from Atreides as they turn. Feyd leaps at him, feinting with his right hand only to switch the knife to his left. He tries not to remember her hand in his, switching so that she’d be farther away from the cliff face and the choppy waves crashing against the frozen rocks.
“Perhaps you think this dance prolongs your life a few moments,” Feyd said, standing still and straightening.
Atreides doesn’t attack, still hesitant.
“Why prolong the inevitable? You but keep me from exercising my rights over this ball of dirt.”
In truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to leave Arrakis. He wanted to return to Lankiveil where he could rule as Count, wear whale fur-lined clothes without poison needles hidden in the fabric, and look for his children among the stars.
“Why don’t you speak?”
Somehow, even with the threat of death, Atreides managed to make a fight boring.
“You smile, eh?” Feyd asked, leaping mid sentence and catching Atreides’ left arm with the downflash of his blade.
The two return to circling each other, crouching low to the floor.
“That woman you were talking to over there. The little one. Is she something special to you? A pet perhaps? Will she deserve my special attentions?”
Feyd’s chest tightens as he sees the imagined white silk dress embellished with diamonds and pearls, a cerise smile, and her hair messily done up to make room for the fur capelet tied around her shoulders.
Atreides remains silent, smiling, and Feyd leaps forward, stabbing. Feinting slowness, Atreides managed to land a cut before Feyd jumped away, switching the knife in his hands.
Again, they begin to circle each other, watching. Atreides moving his knife to his left hand to match Feyd. Blue within blue, Feyd can see her smile frozen on her face, lips turning blue and the waves rising higher.
Feyd approaches Atreides, feinting right and under, until they’re pressed against each other, knife hands straining. Atreides forces them to turn right, barely missing the poison dart flipping out from Feyd’s belt, trapping himself beneath the Harkonnen.
Even though he’s the one speaking, Feyd isn’t quite sure what he’s saying. Something about the poison dart, most likely. But staring into the Atreides’ eyes of Ibad, Feyd only thinks of the girl that would’ve been his wife. Of his first fight in the snow, the rage he felt after his brother threw his betrothed aside carelessly, over the cliffside into the frozen, rocky waves. How his father tried to stop the beast, only to be killed himself, and the two brothers were left on the cliffside alone. Breathing ragged, bleeding, and their eyes burning with unshed, frozen tears.
His hair had been long then, he’s sure Glossu ripped out part of his scalp along with a lock of his dark hair when he first tackled him. He can still see her soaked to the bone lying broken on the rocks, so drenched and frozen was she that her whale fur coat had no chance of helping, her messy hair plastered to her graying skin, lips turned blue.
“I will not say it!” Atreides gasped, stunning Feyd out of his reverie.
Atreides used the fraction of an opening to find a weakness of balance in Feyd’s leg muscles. Suddenly their positions were switched, and Feyd was partially underneath Atreides, unable to turn due to his poison needle catching on the floor, and Atreides twisted his left hand free to plunge his knife up through Feyd’s jaw and into his brain.
His body sagged to the ground, lifeless. There was no black hole sun to hide the paling of his corpse, to liken his blood to spilled ink, to steal the color of the scene.
“Feyd!” A girlish voice snapped at him.
“You’re not even paying attention,” she sighed, leaning away from him on the balcony of the lighthouse.
“Then tell me again,” Feyd said, sliding along railing to be next to her again.
Her cerise colored lips curve back into a smile as her hand dashed out to grab his jaw to force his eyes to the stars. The underside of his jaw is warmed by the soft skin of her palm, her small fingers freezing fast in the weather now that they’re not sheltered by the pocket of her coat. Still, she doesn’t move her hand, waving the other one wildly at the sky, focusing his attention on the stars as she tries to convince him that Mirzam is the perfect name for their son.
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lieutenantfloyd · 2 months
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How they react to you suddenly kissing them — Dune preference
Characters: Gurney Halleck, Feyd-Rautha, Duncan Idaho, Stilgar, Count Rabban.
Warnings: Fluff, insecurity, brief mentions of biting and hair pulling.
Authors Note: I used to write preferences like this years ago, but I wanted to try writing some for my current fandoms :)
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Gurney: When you close the gap between you and place your lips on his, he loses himself in the kiss before quickly coming back to his senses. He'd step away from you slightly, a part of him fearing that your affection is some kind of joke, or worse, that he's somehow taking advantage of you by accepting your advances. Once you've given him the proper reassurance, gurney will put his initial reservations aside and happily make up for your awkward first kiss.
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Feyd-Rautha: When you close the gap between you and place your lips to his, Feyd-Rautha instantly takes hold of your hair and sinks his teeth into your lip. It's impossible to catch such a confident man off guard, especially one as psychotic and unpredictable as him. He relishes the kiss and the metallic taste that blooms in his mouth. Now that you've made your interest known, Feyd-Rautha has a twisted mind full of plans for the two of you, none of which include letting you go anytime soon.
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Duncan: When you close the gap between you and place your lips on his, you can feel Duncan smirk before deepening the kiss almost instantly. He wastes no time pulling you closer and bringing a hand to rest on the nape of your neck. What feels like forever passes before you pull away, nearly gasping for breath. Duncan, being the man he is, goes back to his previous task as if he didn't just turn your world completely upside down. Though the small smile and glint in his eyes tell you he's waiting for his next chance to recreate the moment.
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Stilgar: When you close the gap between you and place your lips on his, Stilgar's body stiffens against yours and his blood runs cold. His mind immediately starts racing, thinking about all the now-blatant signs of interest you'd shown him and how he should react now that you're in his arms. Unfortunately, his lack of reactions leads you to pull away. You only barely move before Stilgar's recaptures your lips, giving you a searing kiss in return.
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Rabban: When you close the gap between you and place your lips in his, his instincts have him shoving you away roughly. While he doesn't want to reject you—and much less hurt you—the sudden contact triggers his warrior instincts. He gets worked up, yelling questions about what you were thinking and why you'd want to kiss him in particular. His demeanor turns uncharacteristically shy and bashful as he listens to your reasoning, and he doesn't object to a redo. This time he lets you take the lead, bending down slightly to give you better access to his lips and touch starved body. Any and all forms of kindness are completely foreign to him, but if your kiss is anything to go by, he's dying to learn more.
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kpopnstarwars · 22 days
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Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader
A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal
tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it
wc: 3.9k
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Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.
It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.
He misses how you miss nothing.
You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.
The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.
Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.
He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.
But you see it.
You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.
It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.
You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.
He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.
Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.
‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’
You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’
You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.
Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’
‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.
Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.
He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’
You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’
Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.
‘Get away from me.’
Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.
Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.
There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.
You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.
‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’
You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’
He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’
‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’
‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’
Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.
And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.
Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.
‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’
‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.
‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.
As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.
Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.
‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.
It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.
‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.
He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’
You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.
Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a  goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.
You spit on him.
It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.
His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.
When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.
Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.
‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.
Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.
‘For whom do you wait, husband?’
As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.
‘Pathetic.’
You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.
‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.
This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.
His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.
‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’
You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.
Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.
‘Feeling okay?’
He nods.
‘Words,’ you chide.
‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’
You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call  you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.
‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.
‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’
His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’
You smile. ‘As you wish.’
You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.
Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.
As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.
Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.
You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.
‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’
He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’
All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.
Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.
He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.
‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’
His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.
Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.
‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’
A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.
Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.
Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.
There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.
‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’
‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’
Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.
You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.
‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’
‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’
Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?
Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.
Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.
‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’
best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍
dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable
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And all the pieces fall, right into place // Part Two
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So Feyd Rautha is still on my mind, so that’s my second try of writing about him and an Artreides!Reader.
Things are getting warmer between you and Fred rautha, but not smutty yet.
All feedback is welcome <3
English is not my first language 
Part One // Part Three
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Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader
FxM
1,721 words
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The new arrivals stride towards you, the procession is so coordinated that the Harkonnens look like a single entity, clad in black leather and gleaming chrome. They have arrived with the Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohaim, whom you immediately recognize by her distinctive walk as your mother's former mentor—commands a presence that is both unnerving and awe-inspiring. You’ve never seen your mum look so reverent. Her harsh form contrasts with her surroundings, somehow managing to draw every eye to her, captivating and commanding in equal measure. You strive to be the perfect lady in this spectacle, gently bred and regal. The less you reveal yourself now, the more you hope to elicit reactions from your future husband. But he seems to be following a similar plan, his gaze exhilarating.
Your father's voice, deep and commanding, rings out over the crowd. "Honored Baron, allow me to welcome you. My house is yours. Come in and be welcome!" The words speak of hospitality, but there appears an undercurrent of tension to them. 
"Duke, it is an honour. Please allow me to introduce my nephews.“
The Baron's voice seems to rise like soap bubbles from him, the words rolling out of his mouth. His body rotates slightly towards Rabban. 
"My nephew Glossu Rabban." Rabban nods silently and bows. 
"And my successor, Na Baron Frey Rautha." Feyd's bow is deep; you think you can hear the slight creak of his leather. And that's exactly what irritates you: The gesture is exaggerated and artificial, even for this occasion. In your mind, the question becomes clearer: What is his plan? Tying you to your house through marriage is certainly strategically clever for both sides. But for a purely political union, he wouldn't have to act like this. When he stands up, his eyes rest on his father: "I hope to be worthy of your hospitality." "I have no doubt, Lady Jessica, and I am sure that you have not made the journey in vain. My son Paul Atreides." Paul steps forward and nods. "And my daughter, whose hand Na Baron will soon take in marriage." You curtsy slightly, and the layers of your dress make a cascade of golden-brown waves. The second time you dare to look directly at Na Baron, he stares back with curiosity. With the arrival of the Harkonnens, a new flavour mixes with the lust. It is something heavy, almost oily, which lies on your tongue like a film. The guests are invited into the fortress, and Paul escorts them to their rooms. Lady Jessica indicates that you follow her in the opposite direction. Feyd Rautha takes one look at your wealth and only sees your figure moving further away.
At the official banquet, you sit next to your mother, Na Baron a little further away. While the tension has subsided, you are still on guard. He seems engrossed in a conversation with Gurney and Duncan, while you sit as a silent listener next to your mother, who in turn sits unusually quietly next to your father and the Baron. For a moment, she seems to run her fingers over the side of her neck, betraying her inner tumult. You take her hand to soothe her and bring her back to the here and now. With a few hand gestures, she signals to you, "Guest Library, after the Meal." You nod and turn seriously to watch others. Na Baron seems to be enjoying his conversation, his eyes fully turned to his dialogue partners. His pride from earlier seems to have given way to genuine curiosity, and, however small, a seed of hope rises in you. With a little openness to each other, your union will be based on mutual respect and not just co-existence, which is more than some marriages have. Suddenly, his gaze rests on yours again. And his curiosity changes like the colours of a chameleon into something intense. Without taking his eyes off you, he plunges his knife into the unfortunate steak on his plate, from which a trickle of pink juice oozes out, and runs his tongue over your lips. A shiver runs through you, the innuendo unmistakable. The hope you had just a moment ago gives way to the wish that the distance to Na Baron would be better.
As requested by Lady Jessica, you make your way to the library, and your breath catches when you see Na Baron. She accompanies him to the door but stays outside. As quickly as your feet can carry you, you run around the corner, up a set of steps, and crouch next to a small window that leads to the room. Invisible from them, it offers you the opportunity to observe what is happening. You hear muffled voices first, but then the Reverend Mother speaks up.
"Kneel."
The vibration of the voice permeates, even if it is not directed at you. Realization comes like a wave of cold sweat. The Reverend Mother is talking to the Na Baron. The same dark room full of scrolls, the Reverend Mother's veil, the metal box on the table next to her. Na Baron must prove himself human. You feel a pang in your heart, the memory of the box's blazing flames as fresh as the day you experienced them. But you hear nothing; your betrothed doesn't make a sound. Like a porcelain figurine, he kneels in front of the armchair where the Reverend Mother sits, Gom Jabbar in her hand, mere millimeters from the skin on his neck. Your breathing becomes faster and shallower; with each passing second, the fear inside you gains ground and sinks its claws around your heart. You blink rapidly to shake it off. Someone who you can't even be sure will shape your marriage in the same spirit should at least be human. Before you can finish contemplating the emotions rising in you, the Reverend Mother releases Feyd Rautha.
"So you are human?"
"You doubted me? Even now?" He doesn’t make an effort to conceal his despise towards her. You see his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. He seems undecided as to whether he will release himself like a tightly coiled spring and go for the woman around the armchair. But he rises and takes quick steps away from the room.
As if pulled by your limbs by a puppet master, you stand up and follow him into the courtyard. The blood rushes in your ears, the memory of your test and the sacred ceremony you have just secretly witnessed have heightened all your perceptions. Feyd Rautha stands with his back to you, his eyes fixed on the sky. You can see his left hand trembling slightly, which he tries to suppress by clenching his fist.
"Do they need the North Star's help to find their chambers, my lord?" You ask, and he turns around instantly. Within a blink of an eye, he moves towards you, stopping just a few centimetres away. You involuntarily back away half a step. "Can I help you find your way back? Should I call a servant?" The question about the test doesn't cross your lips, although it seems to prickle on your lips and all over your skin like an electric charge. His expression becomes even more like a tiger about to pounce.
"You know what just happened," his voice is deep and dark, like syrup. It envelops you, and in your chest, the desire to reach out to him fights with the desire to run away.
"Yes," you say, taking a deep breath. "I'm human, I know it too." 
"Then you also know that humans can be the worst monsters." 
"When it comes to our families, we all have to do things sometimes." 
"Is it something you have to do?" 
"This...?" 
"This wedding?" He's right in front of you, his smell musky and sweet, a new mélange in this familiar place and something entirely new. There's a hunger in his eyes, but no anger. Before you can get your answer out, he pounces. The adrenaline from both of you pumps through your veins so that everything but his lips disappears from your perception. His tongue is demanding, and as soon as you let it in, he pulls you both into a whirlwind of pleasure. Your hands find his neck, his cheeks, the skin so soft and smooth that you can't get enough of the feeling. A low sound escapes his throat, and his hands move from your waist to the fastening of your dress at the back. At that moment, you want nothing more than to let him have his way, and a small sound leaves your mouth. 
"It seems my uncle might underestimated you" he breathes into your ear, his breath like fire on your neck. 
"That could be," you say, still out of breath, with strands loosened from your hair. "Then why don't we find now?“ 
"No." With all the strength you have, you move away from Feyd. "I will tie the ribbon of my life to yours. My life will be yours. But that means it won't happen until the wedding. Not in my parents' courtyard." 
„Well, we could relocate to your chambers then“ His voice is laced with desire.
All you manage is shaking your head. 
He looks puzzled at first and then a little irritated, his gaze wandering up and down your body, lingering on your red, swollen lips. 
"What difference do these couple of days make?" he blurts out. 
"It is the difference of respect." Your voice is filled with indignation, trying to recall and embody the composure and pride that is appropriate for a Duke's daughter. "We both know that our destiny is decided for us. It doesn’t mean I have no say in how I get there. Good night, Baron. I expect you'll find your way back on your own," and with these words, you retreat into the building, hoping that your dress hasn't soaked through. 
As you assert your resolve to maintain dignity, the connection between you has shifted. Feyd Rautha finds himself in the position of watching you leave for the second time in a day. He will be patient, but when the marriage is finalized, you will pay a high price for his patience. All the more time for him to think about what he can do with you.
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dyns33 · 18 days
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The Fall of House Harkonnen
I'm not sure what to do with Feyd to be honest.
I'm trying to do dark + fluff but I'm not that good at it. So I started with something short, and not really a Feyd x Reader, since they are twins here. Only platonic, fraternal love here. Even if he's over protectitve and possessive.
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It was known throughout all the Imperium that the Harkonnens were cruel beings.
Without pity, without heart.
This seemed even more certain when it came to the young Na Baron, Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, nephew of the Baron and his heir.
True, except with his twin sister.
Or rather dizygotic twin. A strangeness of nature, because if the boy resembled his father and all men born on Giedi Prime, Y/N had taken on the features of their mother and the inhabitants of Lankiveil.
This singularity alone could have been enough to disgust the Baron to the point of making him want to kill the child or leave her with her parents. There was also the fact that she was a girl, being inferior and uninteresting.
It was the older brother who had begged for her to be spared, because even though he wanted to impress his uncle and had no attachment to the rest of his family, he felt a certain sympathy towards his sister.
For this, he had often been punished by Feyd, but it was perhaps also what had saved his life.
Because if Glossus liked Y/N, Feyd adored her more than anything in the world.
As if she were a part of him, a vital, essential part. Extremely possessive, jealous to the point of obsession, he insisted that she be taken with him by the Baron, even though he did not see what to do with her.
“If she doesn’t come, I’m not coming either.”
A refusal was impossible. Vladimir Harkonnen needing a successor, and having clearly seen that only Feyd could be suitable, he couldn't say no.
Marrying her for political advantage was also unthinkable. The Na Baron scared away any suitors who might have been interested, and he would have killed the one their uncle chose for his twin.
There would have been the possibility of letting her choose, because maybe he would have agreed to let her go if she had asked him to. It was rare for him to refuse her something, and in fact people often went through her to communicate with Feyd without taking the risk of being mutilated.
Not right away anyway, because just talking, looking, or thinking about Y/N could be grounds for severe punishment. No one imagined what he would do if someone dared to touch her.
Of course, he was the only one not subject to this ban. The worst rumors ran in the dark corners of the Harkonnens' house, when it was known that the twins shared the same bed.
The Na Baron could have ripped out the tongues of everyone who said such horrors about his sister. They could think what they wanted about him, but not about her.
He also could have just said he didn't want her like that. He had never touched her as he touched his concubines, or any other woman.
Superior to all the others, Y/N did him the honor of letting him put his ear to her chest, rocking him to sleep, a calm and serene sleep. He only slept well with her, listening to her heart, which beat only for him, and thanks to him.
The few times he was alone with her, Glossus Rabban begged her to convince Feyd to be reasonable. It was quite hilarious that such a request was made by the one they called the Beast.
Probably it wasn't really him asking, even if you could see worry in his eyes, the eyes of an older brother.
He never left her, and at the same time Feyd was totally submissive to his twin. It was painful for him when she wanted something that went against what he deemed necessary.
This could have been a means of control. But threatening the young woman would have caused more problems than getting favors. She was untouchable no matter what.
For a time, there had also been the fear that she would use this advantage to torn her brother as she pleased. But if the rest of the family was cruel, Y/N seemed to be the heart of it, the only little beating heart, still a bit human.
It happened that she suffocated a little under her brother's protective love, but she had gotten used to it, perfectly understanding how it worked and knowing that he needed that to feel good.
Feyd didn't know how to be good, but he was doing his best. However, that didn't stop her from teasing him.
“Suppose I meet a charming, kind young nobleman who treats me well…”
“Why do you want to torture me like this, my sister ?” he sighed, snuggling against her. "It's been a long day. Lots of annoyances, stupid people. Don't make me think about these atrocities."
“Me, happily married, is that an atrocity ?”
"Yes."
“But what if I asked you to find me someone ?” Y/N said with a smile, rubbing his back tenderly.
"If there was someone who deserved you, then I would accept. But that's not the case. So you will stay with me, I will become emperor, and you will rule by my side."
"It's not very conventional. And bad for the future of our house."
"The witches will do what is necessary for this. I will take the hand of one of the Emperor's daughters to ensure my power, I will give her a son, then I will not see her again. Maybe I will even kill her, since she will no longer be useful."
"You're so mean. Would you be happy if people talked about me like that ?"
“I will kill anyone who dares.” he grunted, while purring under her hands.
When the Emperor ordered Arakkis to be given to the Atreides, Piter suggested an alliance, before moving on to assassination.
Not that he wanted the Atreides to live, but it was obvious that their deaths were even more desired by the Emperor because of their popularity, who would later seek to attack the Harkonnens because of their wealth.
"The Duke should have had a daughter, who would have married the Na Baron. Since he had a son, it would be possible for us to propose a marriage between him and…"
“Finish this sentence and lose your tongue.” Feyd hissed, never taking his eyes off him, his blade dancing between his fingers, ready to strike.
"I appreciate this proposal, but as you can see, this idea is not a good one. My dear nephew is right to oppose it. The Atreides do not deserve to be linked to any member of our family, nor to have any power over my Dune. We will take it back from them, then we will deal with the Emperor."
Politics had no interest for Y/N. She heard nothing of the plans of the Baron, the Bene Gesserit, or the Imperium. It didn't matter to her in the slightest.
She was only happy with her brother, and it was the same for him. An inseparable pair.
So there was a moment of hesitation when their uncle decided to entrust Arrakis to Feyd. An immense honor, which he had been waiting for for a long time, in addition to which would allow him to further secure his future as ruler of the galaxy.
But Dune was dangerous, so it was obvious that it wasn't a good idea for Y/N to accompany him.
None of them liked the idea, but for once the Na Baron couldn't deny that he shared his uncle's worries. No one would be stupid enough to hurt his sister if she was on Giedi Prime, but she was a target on Arrakis.
"I'll be back soon. Or you'll join me when we've eliminated the Fremen rebels."
"… I have a bad feeling. Stay."
"My sister. My sweet sister." he whispered, kissing her cheek. "You have nothing to fear. You know I am a well trained warrior."
"I don't doubt your abilities. I doubt that these savages are as honorable as you. Can you promise to come back to me ?"
“I have never broken my word, much less the word I give you. We will not be separated, Y/N.”
News of the Baron's death came first.
Then the commander announced to her with a small voice that Glossus had also succumbed.
He was silent for a moment, giving her time to process what he had just said, but Y/N already knew he wasn’t finished.
As she had predicted, young Paul Atreides had not fought by the rules. He should have lost, according to witnesses, but he played dirty, and he stabbed the Na Baron instead of accepting his defeat.
While demanding the hand of the emperor's daughter, he had ordered that a message be sent to the last of the Harkonnens, the only heiress. If she were smarter than the rest of her family, she would be willing to bow to him.
“What should I answer ?”
“Leave me.” Y/N only said without looking at him.
"But he's waiting for an answer… They're going…"
“Leave me.”
"Sorry, Baroness. Call me when you have made a decision."
There was no decision. No word. No Harkonnen bowed their head to an Atreides.
Refusing to be separated, and since he won't come back like he promised, Y/N decided to join her twin where he was. Even though he refused to admit it since they were children, he had never liked being alone in the dark, waiting for her to sneak in his room.
Her planet, her people, their fate didn't matter to her. In this moment, as cruel as the rest of her family, her heart was only for Feyd, and it had no reason to beat anymore.
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