Aww

STILES STILINSKI looking attractive as hell in red

is it me or is there a serious lack of charlie hunnam fics?

🩵🩵🩵

五条先生rkgk

「元気出してよ」

☆Art by: illust_man_2020 on twitter!☆

a beautiful fic, very thorough and beautifully crafted

— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (X)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX PART SEVEN || PART EIGHT || PART NINE

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

SUMMARY — Muad'Dib's forces attack the palace during the imperial visit on Arrakis. The new Baroness Harkonnen must face her past and choose her future.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. A month ago (March 6th) I went to the cinema to watch Dune: Part Two and I stayed up until 3am to write the very first chapter of this fic despite having morning classes on the next day. 🙈 I couldn't have known back then what a journey this would be and how many lovely and amazing readers would be so engaged in this story! 💕 This is the final part – but I am willing to write additional one-shots with these characters in the future. Thank you everyone who suggested me the baby names. I went with the idea commented by @alexandrainlove since it made sense to me due to the fact I have already used the name before in this fic. I loved all your recommendations, though! 🥰 Also, I want to credit @houserautha for pointing out that the thick Harkonnen blood (as I have described it in this fic) would actually be an advantage in combat because it would make bleeding out to death more difficult. I know some of you might be disappointed or sad about some events in the last chapter – I decided to go with my original plan for it because, at the end of the day, I can't possibly please everyone anyway. I loved all your ideas and assumptions, though, they made me rethink my plans many times. Love you! 💗

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, violent behaviour, death, murder, childbirth

WORD COUNT — 12,780 (😳)

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THROWN TO THE WOLVES (X)

You watched the imperial ships land through the window with anticipation and anxiety. They were huge and covered in imperial sigils, now covered with the sand and spice. The symbols of power and influence – a reminder of your whole existence being reduced to the subject and a servant. 

Escorted by the guards, you walked down the corridors to greet the guests. Your husband stayed inside to call upon other leaders of the galaxy. Feyd feared that the Emperor had arrived on Arrakis to once again take it from the Harkonnens because of some whim. He wouldn’t let that happen, especially now when it was the first day of his rule as The Baron. Losing such an important planet on the beginning of his reign was a political suicide. But The Harkonnens were in possession of an imperial secret that the Emperor wouldn’t want anyone else to know – his troops had been used to kill the members of the House Atreides… your family. Having other galactic leaders knowing that would mean the end of the Emperor and Feyd-Rautha would not hesitate to threaten him if he was about to take Arrakis from you.

You had just found out that secret and pretended it had not bothered you at all when you walked down the corridor to go outside, accompanied by the guards, with your hand clasped on your abdomen and chin held up high. However, realising the Emperor’s true nature had given you some sort of fighting spirit.

You stood and awaited to face him – The Emperor. The man who was responsible for the death of your family. The next goal of your ambitious game…?

You watched the first men walk out of the imperial ship. The Sardaukar fanatic soldiers caused a shiver to go down your spine. Your few Harkonnen guards suddenly started to feel like little mice locked in a cage with a bunch of fat cats. You almost overlooked The Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV. He was older and weaker than you had expected and remembered from his visits on Caladan. At the sight of him, your mind filled with intrusive thoughts of how easy it would be to  simply… get rid of him.

The Sardaukar soldier’s loud and powerful salute at their Emperor made you shake those thoughts off. Then you spotted two women leaving the ship as well and you started to feel sick when you noticed Bene Gesserit’s Reverend Mother dressed all in black with a veil covering her face.

But you’d recognise her everywhere. You remembered when Lady Jessica had walked you out of your birthday party after turning sixteen. She had taken you to a dark room where this very Reverend Mother had been waiting. Your humanity had been tested in the Gom Jabbar and never before nor after you had experienced such pain in your life. The Reverend Mother had looked at Lady Jessica and uttered out only three words to describe you.

Human… but weak.

You hadn’t gone back to the party. Instead, you had spent the rest of the night by your mother’s grave where your father had eventually found you.

You had been hoping to never see that woman ever again in your life. But here she was now, once again testing you on such a special day as the beginning of your reign.

The other woman was much younger. It was Princess Irulan, daughter of the Emperor. You looked deep into her eyes and she stared back, widening hers. Her dress looked like armour, too.

You had met her only once where you two were children. You had been playing together but she had been very upset at the fact that you had been holding the same title.

“I am not as important as you are, Irulan,” you had been trying to explain to her. “Duke’s daughter is called a Princess but our ranks are not equal. You are an Imperial Princess.”

“I should be the only Princess in the galaxy,” Irulan had pouted at you.

You approached the delegation and bowed down. Technically, you should be kneeling but the late Baron Harkonnen had taught you a few things before his pathetic end. One of them was to always remind the Emperor of the power the Harkonnens were holding. To treat him more as if he was an equal than a superior. You commanded an army bigger than him and your wealth was much more impressive.

“Your Imperial Highness,” you looked up at him and straightened your back. He was staring at you and furrowing his brows, most likely surprised that you were greeting him alone with only a few guards. “Your visit is an honour to us,” you added. “Sadly, we experienced a great loss last night as Muad’Dib’s forces assassinated our beloved late Baron Vladimir Harkonnen,” you faked a shiver of your voice. “Forgive the new Baron,my husband, for not coming out with me to greet you, Your Imperial Highness. He is very busy with his new duties and obligations,” you explained.

The Reverend Mother leaned into the Emperor's ear and whispered something to him. You didn’t like that at all. But he only nodded and raised a hand at his guards to keep following him as he approached you slowly.

“I am very sorry to hear about your loss, Baroness Harkonnen, Duchess Atreides,” he addressed you elegantly and you bowed down again. Once he joined you, you began to walk side by side. His daughter and the Bene Gesserit followed very closely.

“Thank you, Your Imperial Highness,” you faked the sadness of your smile.

“The reason for my visit is the man you have mentioned… Muad’Dib,” he added and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, I am aware that we have not caught him yet but now, after last night’s events… I am sure my husband will do everything in his power to avenge his uncle’s death. Muad’Dib’s days are numbered, Your Imperial Highness,” you tried to assure him. “He is nothing but a terrorist. Not only he slayed our late Baron but also some of the servants and most of the guards.”

“What a miracle that is that you and your husband were spared,” The Emperor pointed out and you could swear that there was a shadow of a smirk on his face.

“Prepare the throne room for The Emperor,” you looked at the servants approaching you and they nodded before running away as fast as possible with their heads held low. Then you turned around to look at The Emperor again. “Not lucky, no. We just weren’t the main target. But I am sure he will be back for us.”

“Forgive me, Baroness, I need to rest after the long journey,” The Emperor nodded at you and you bowed down.

“My servants will show you to your rooms as the throne room is being prepared for you to use it when you are rested, Your Imperial Highness,” you told him and nodded at another pair of servants who had just approached you. “Please, do forgive us for our lack of preparations and today’s chaos.”

“It is quite understandable after such a tragedy,” he assured you and walked away with his daughter and some of the soldiers. The rest of The Sardaukar stayed inside to monitor the corridors.

You turned around, ready to go back to your husband when you almost bumped into The Reverend Mother who had stayed behind you.

“Excuse me,” you faked a smile and tried to walk past her but she stood in your way once again. “What seems to be the problem?” You asked.

“The child inside you was not a part of our breeding program,” she stated casually. You felt your son moving as if he knew she was talking about him. You put your hand on your swollen womb protectively.

“I do not care about your breeding program, with all respect. I just want to give House Harkonnen a male heir,” you explained.

“The child is too powerful,” she told you but her words did not make you proud. They sounded too sinister to take it as a compliment.

“In what way?” You raised an eyebrow. “Am I not weak, Reverend Mother?”

“The Harkonnen medics have overdone themselves, Baroness. Your child does not only have all the best genetic material of your flesh and mind… but of all the Atreides and the Harkonnen families. He will be an unstoppable force if trained properly,” the woman whispered.

“I have already promised you a daughter… under certain conditions. I am not giving you a son,” you hissed.

“That is the point, Baroness. It is a shame your child is a son. But do keep going… If the Harkonnen medics are so advanced already, I cannot wait for the daughter you will give us,” you could spot a smile under the veil as your jaw clenched.

“If I were you, I would fear the day she is born,” you nodded at her and walked away. This time she allowed you to, but she kept staring at you until you disappeared behind the corner to go back to Feyd and tell him about the reason for The Emperor’s sudden visit.

“I have brought back the spice production to full efficiency, Your Imperial Highness,” Feyd explained himself as he was looking up at The Emperor sitting on the Arrakis’ throne with his daughter and The Reverend Mother standing beside him. He had been questioning your husband for the last fifteen minutes, as if it was really an interrogation which would decide whether he should keep governing Arrakis or not.

“Have you, Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen? Or has your late uncle done that?” The Emperor asked.

You were standing a step behind your husband, with your head kept low and your hands clasped on your abdomen, playing a dutiful wife. You knew that showing off your power and influence in front of The Emperor would only make Feyd look even weaker in his eyes.

“He was a great help but I was The Governor of Arrakis, with all respect,” Feyd answered, trying to hide his anger and frustration.

“And what about that idiot brother of yours?”

“Count Rabban has been dismissed. He’s on his way to Giedi Prime now, Your Imperial Highness,” Feyd nodded.

“His problems with the spice production were a result of the activity of the mysterious Muad’Dib… You still haven’t caught him either, have you, Baron Harkonnen?” The Emperor hummed to himself. “And last night he slaughtered your uncle, so I’ve been told… Tell me, what do you know about him?”

“He’s one of the Fremen, I assume. A leader of a terrorist group with great influence,” Feyd explained.

“And you, Baroness?” The Emperor addressed you and you looked up, too, surprised to be included. “I have been told of your influence in the House Harkonnen. Do not play a shy mouse with me.”

You smiled nervously at his words and bowed down slightly.

“I did not mean to play anything, Your Imperial Highness. Please, do forgive me for my sombre mood today after last night’s tragic events…” You batted your eyelashes at him and took a step forward. Now you were arm to arm with your husband. “I do not know more than The Baron about Muad’Dib,” you added as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Liar!” The Reverend Mother exclaimed suddenly and the whole room went silent. Feyd turned his head around to squint his eyes at you and with the corner of your own you spotted a hint of sense of betrayal upon his face.

“I am not a liar, Your Imperial Highness,” you shook your head. “I can not know for certain.”

“But you do have your assumptions,” The Reverend Mother pointed out and you swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of this secret on your shoulders.

“I am suspecting that Muad’Dib might be my brother… Prince Paul Atreides,” you whispered.

“The Atreides are all dead,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth. “That is impossible.”

“So I thought,” you nodded. “But Paul has been haunting my dreams since the first night I came here. After some time I started to realise that they might not be dreams at all… More like visions. He has been communicating with me and it appears to me now that he might have survived in the desert after The Harkonnen invasion,” you avoided looking into anyone’s eyes.

“Why haven’t you told me about those visions?” Your husband’s voice was full of anger and betrayal and it surprised you how much you hated to make him feel this way. After all, you two were supposed to always play on the same team.

“Because I thought they hold no significance,” you finally dared to look into his eyes again. “What does it change who he truly is? And I could not be sure anyway.”

“Why would Paul Atreides communicate with Baroness Harkonnen?” Princess Irulan asked and you looked at her. “Do not misunderstand me, my Lady, but you are no Bene Gesserit. You hold no telepathic power like that.”

“He is not communicating with her,” The Reverend Mother pointed out. “He is communicating with her son. Because if Muad’Dib is as powerful as they say that he is now, then Baroness’ unborn child is the only person who can stop him.”

“Stop him how?” You asked with furrowed brows.

“Your child’s powers are not yet fully known but his presence might be interrupting Muad’Dib’s foreseeing abilities,” she explained.

“Foreseeing abilities?” The Emperor moved uncomfortably on the throne. “What exactly are we dealing with?!”

The timing of those words was not of the best kind as a loud booming sound from the outside reached your ears. Startled by it, you grabbed Feyd’s arm to squeeze it.

“My Lord! My Lady!” One of the engineers from the conference room ran inside, breathing heavily with his eyes widened, not even caring about The Emperor’s presence. “The Fremen… They are using The Atreides’ nuclear weapons to attack us and they are coming at us… Hundreds of them… Thousands… All united as they’re waving The Atreides flags.”

“Duchess Atreides, care to explain?” The Emperor asked you and you looked at him as if he was crazy.

“I’ve had nothing to do with that!” You denied. “I haven’t even been told where my father had hidden the Atreides nuclear weapons. If I had known, they’d be used against the Fremen long time ago, Your Imperial Highness,” you stated.

“It’s Muad’Dib,” The Reverend Mother said. “As he promised to come.”

“Wait, you had an agreement with him?” You asked her but she remained silent. “I thought you wanted him dead.”

“We were curious about him, Baroness,” The Emperor informed you. “We were supposed to have negotiations.”

Another booming sound made you shiver as the walls around you trembled.

“Negotiations, you say,” you drawled. “There you have them,” you pointed at the door. “We don’t have enough guards to protect us from this sort of attack, even with your Sardaukar soldiers, Your Imperial Highness! Most of them were slain last night.”

“And whose was the hand that slayed them?!” The Emperor yelled and you tried to keep your poker face on but you hated the feeling of fear creeping up on you. You thought you would never be afraid again in your life.

But now you were afraid. You were afraid of the Muad’Dib forces outside the palace and you were afraid of The Emperor sitting on a throne above you. He was an old and weak man but his power was still strong enough to cause you harm, especially with his fanatic soldiers surrounding you in the room.

“Fear not,” an odd, unfamiliar voice filled your brain. You furrowed your brow and looked around, trying to reach for the person trying to communicate with you. However, the voice was deep and raspy in a Harkonnen way. It reminded you of Feyd’s but his face looked pretty oblivious. “Fear not, mother,” the voice spoke again and you gasped.

The Emperor thought that you gasped because of his accusation, though.

“I do not care about The Harkonnen’s inside affairs,” he informed you angrily. “However, now we’re all paying the price of your last night’s selfish act!”

You didn’t know what to feel or do. You were overwhelmed with anxiety and the new discovery of your son’s voice being able to communicate with you. The booming sounds were becoming more and more frequent and the Harkonnen guards formed a circle around you and The Emperor alongside the Sardaukar soldiers.

You hid behind Feyd and dug your fingernails into his shoulder. Some part of you wished Muad’Dib was indeed Paul Atreides. Well, he had to be since they were using the Atreides nuclear weapons and flags. Your own brother would not kill you, would he? 

He would understand that everything you had done, you had done to survive. If he had survived in that desert, he would understand everything.

The Emperor, Princess Irulan and The Reverend Mother walked down to stand beside you so the soldier’s circle around you could tighten.

“Can you hear me?” You thought.

“All the time,” your son answered and you smiled slightly to yourself.

It was a comforting thought to know that. 

“Is that true that you’re able to stop Paul?” You asked inside your mind.

“I can try,” he answered. 

“Your voice reminds me so much of your father’s,” you kept talking to him and distracting yourself from the sight of the doors being stormed as a horde of Fremen was trying to get inside the room with the sound of explosions in the distance.

“I am his son,” he answered very seriously and you almost chuckled at the fact he was clearly as rigid as Feyd – so logical and stiff even as an unborn baby.

“Yes, you are, my darling,” your hand, placed protectively on your swollen womb, squeezed the flesh through the dress’ fabric and that was when the doors opened with a loud bang sound and for a short while you thought you would die on Arrakis indeed, where your father’s bones already remained somewhere in the desert. Perhaps it was The Atreides’ fate to die on Arrakis.

But, after all, you were a Harkonnen.

You had not been attacked, though. Once your guards had been defeated, you were all taken to one of the rooms and locked there with the Fremen guards outside ensuring you would not escape. You were waiting for Muad’Dib’s forces to take over the whole palace as you were basically his captives.

Sitting on a chair with Feyd crouching down by your side, you were worried sick about Astra and Cara. You hoped that the Fremen wouldn’t hurt the servants but seeing their brutality and barbaric ways, you weren’t so sure about it. The Emperor was sitting, too, and staring at you with his eyes squinted.

“If that really is your brother, Duchess Atreides…” he started.

“Then what, Your Imperial Highness?” You snapped at him. When his dangerous guards were defeated, he was just an old, weak man and no threat to you. Feyd would slit his throat in half a second.

If he had a knife. But it had been taken away from him and surprisingly, he had been pretty obedient about it. You were grateful because you did not want to watch him getting slaughtered by a whole bunch of Fremen. He was a great warrior but every person had their limits of how many opponents they could take at the same time.

Your knife had not been taken, though. As a woman – especially pregnant – you hadn’t been searched properly and you hadn’t brought up the fact that you had a knife strapped to your hip under all the folds of your dress. Even Feyd didn’t know about it and you wanted it to remain this way. You hoped that you wouldn’t have to use it but you couldn’t be sure and it was better to keep it a secret.

“I can’t be responsible for his behaviour just because I am Duchess Atreides,” you reminded The Emperor.

“If Muad’Dib is really Paul Atreides then you are no Duchess Atreides, Baroness Harkonnen,” The Emperor reminded you. “His actions speak for your House then, not yours.”

“My House is Harkonnen,” you only barked at him and turned your face around to Feyd. You held his hand and he leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead, sensing your nervousness.

“What kind of fighter is your brother?” He asked you in a whisper but everyone could hear him.

“He was bad last time I saw him. Weak and pathetic in combat,” you answered. “But now he is different. He’s been training a lot.”

“How can you know that?” Princess Irulan looked at you, intrigued.

“If we believe my visions, I know he’s been training. If he is Muad’Dib, we don’t even have to believe my visions. Muad’Dib is the only name my brother-in-law fears and he’s the one called Beast Rabban,” you told her.

“He is an abomination,” The Reverend Mother spoke up, “in a different, worse way than the spawn inside you, Baroness Harkonnen.”

“What did you call my son?” Feyd’s muscles tensed.

“Calm down, Baron, she knows what I’m talking about,” the old woman was not bothered by making him angry. “Your son might be the only hope for us. He is interfering Muad’Dib’s foreseeing abilities.”

“I do not like the way you speak of it as if it’s all certain,” The Emperor joined. “If that is true, then I wish I had known about it sooner.”

“Father, there are some secrets that shall be kept even from you,” his daughter tried to calm him down.

“I disagree.”

“We shouldn’t fight now,” you interrupted them. “If we want to survive, we have to work together.”

“And what do you propose, Baroness?” The Emperor asked you with a contemptuous smirk. “He’s a madman, your brother.”

“So is my husband,” you raised your chin proudly. “And do not underestimate me, Your Imperial Highness, as I am the madman’s sister.”

The doors opened loudly and the Fremen warriors looked at all of you with visible contempt that made a shiver go down your body.

“Muad’Dib wishes to see you,” one of them barked at you.

Feyd helped you to stand up and you were taken to one of the rooms upstairs with a balcony and a beautiful view. The sun was setting slowly and giving the whole chamber an orange hue.

Gurney Halleck was the first man you recognised. He was standing in the middle of the room and waiting for you. You honestly hadn’t expected him to survive The Harkonnen invasion.

Seeing your father’s Warmaster broke something in you. It was as if the young Princess Atreides bloomed once again inside your rotten heart. After all, he had known you ever since you were a little girl.

“Gurney!” You smiled and ran up to him, not caring much about Feyd’s hands trying to stop you. The Fremen soldiers reached for their knives but Halleck stopped them with a small gesture of his hand.

“Princess!” He smiled at the sight of you as well and opened his arms. You had never been close – not as close as he had been with your brother at least – but seeing him brought back all the memories and for a short while you thought that finally, after all those months surrounded by the Harkonnens… you were saved.

You hugged Gurney with a wide smile and he fixed a loose hair strand falling rebelliously on your forehead.

“Look at you, Princess… So mature now, aren’t you?” He asked in a whisper. There was pain in his eyes and it brought tears to your own.

He was sorry for you. But he was sorry in a different way than all those late Baron’s guests who had been looking at you as if you were a little, innocent, naive prey. He was Gurney, your Gurney and he had known you. You were his Princess. He was sorry for you because he knew who you had been and who you were supposed to be under different circumstances. He had known your heart. Your whims, your moods, your smiles, your laughter, your dreams, your kindness and your humour. He had known all of you.

And perhaps all this time you had been wanting for someone to be sorry for you. You didn’t want to be admired for your strength and ability to survive, for your cunning mind and your schemes. You just wanted someone to admit that a great pain had been inflicted upon you and it was unfair to happen to you and brought you nothing but suffering.

Before you could open your mouth and answer him, the doors opened and you gasped at the sight of Muad’Dib followed by the Bene Gesserit sisters.

You would recognise his silhouette and his walk everywhere. Your brother, Paul Atreides – it was really him.

Perhaps the shock was not as big as it would be because of the dreams you two had been sharing for the past few weeks.

But was it really your brother…? His hair was longer and curly now, no longer neatly combed, his eyes were blue from the spice and the way he wore his stillsuit felt nearly as if it was his second skin. You had never seen him so angry and confident, so ready to fight and so bloodthirsty.

The Bene Gesserit surrounded their most important one – sitting on a chair with her face covered in tattoos and sheer veils. She looked familiar to you, you thought, and then she laid her own eyes on you – blue from the spice – and you realised it was Lady Jessica.

Throughout the past few months, both of you seemed to significantly rise in power.

“Brother…!” You ran up to him, instinctively, despite everything that was telling you not to trust the man in front of you – he was not your brother, he was a shell of Paul Atreides; filled with hate and anger and a newly discovered hunger for power.

Perhaps you two had more in common now.

“Sister,” he greeted you with a nod of his head and you froze in your place as you were about to give him a hug but he visibly did not want it.

A long, awkward silence occurred between everyone gathered in the room. You tried to keep your chin held up but your head felt heavy at that moment as you realised that there was no home and no family to go back to.

You were not about to be saved by a long lost family. There was nothing to save you from. Giedi Prime was your home and Feyd-Rautha was your family.

Paul looked down with contempt as his eyes fixed on your abdomen. He was visibly uncomfortable with the presence of your son. He had to sense his abilities interfering with his own.

“I’ve been informed that apparently, last night, I have slain my grandfather,” he smirked.

“Your grandfather?” You asked, surprised, and then you laid your eyes on Lady Jessica.

Perhaps that was why you fitted so well with The Harkonnens. You had been apparently raised by one of them.

There were actually many things you wanted to ask her. Why had she taught you how to be able to fight The Voice? Why had she been preparing you for things you were clearly not destined to become? And – most importantly – had she ever had any love for you in her heart?

“I do not mind such accusations,” Paul told you and reached out his hand to caress your cheek. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Feyd’s muscles tensing. Your brother’s touch was surprisingly gentle but it did not feel like Paul at all. And your son was kicking your ribs in a painful way for as long as his uncle’s touch lingered upon your skin. “I have missed you, sister. You never replied to any of my letters.”

“I was not given any letters,” you told him.

“I see,” Paul looked down again, this time he focused on The Atreides signet ring on your pinky finger. “Kneel down,” he ordered and you furrowed your brows.

“Excuse me?”

“Kneel down, Baroness Harkonnen and I shall spare your life,” he expanded his thought. “I feel sentimental today,” he added. “You can live, however your husband and the spawn inside you cannot.”

You felt as if he had just spit in your face. That was more offensive than hurtful and more angering than saddening.

“You’re insane,” you took a step back. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner, Paul Atreides? You’re a Fremen savage terrorist now. I am The Duchess of The House Atreides, The Baroness of The House Harkonnen and I will not kneel down in front of you,” you stated proudly.

“I am The Duke Atreides!” He yelled as you took a few more steps back. “I am the son of Duke Leto Atreides and you are nothing but a spoiled Princess that was thrown out and disposed of to die amongst The Harkonnens!” He reminded you harshly.

“There are ships appearing above the planet,” one of the Fremen interrupted you as he informed your brother. He was staring at a tracking device in his hand. “They are leaders of the Great Houses. Someone had to call upon them earlier.”

“That person has done me a great favour,” Paul smirked mischievously. “I am going to inform them about what you have done to my father, Your Imperial Highness,” he addressed The Emperor with contempt. “And by defeating you, I will take your daughter as my wife and reign as The new Emperor of The House Atreides.”

“Please, don’t! My father is old and weak! You can’t fight him!” Princess Irulan stood in front of her father to cover him with her own body.

“Such a fight will take no place,” you clenched your jaw. “He has no right to speak in the name of The House Atreides. I am The Duchess of it and he’s just a Fremen terrorist!”

“Perhaps you haven’t heard me right, dear sister…” Paul started.

“I have heard you perfectly well, brother,” you turned around to face him with raised eyebrows.

“Then you know that I am The Duke,” he squinted his eyes at you.

“I will not give up such a title easily,” you raised your head even higher as you straightened yourself. “I shall challenge you to a duel, brother.”

“Challenge to a duel? Me?” Paul snorted at you. “You cannot wield a blade sister.”

“I am the blade of my Baroness,” Feyd’s raspy voice interrupted you as everyone looked at him.

He nodded at you and you nodded back, approaching him to put a hand on his chest.

“Do not disappoint me, Feyd,” you whispered. “Make me proud like you always do.”

You hoped he was aware of the weight of the responsibility placed upon his shoulders right now. It was not a simple duel with Paul Atreides caused by his wife’s whim to keep some title. It was a duel about the future of his House, a duel about his child’s life… Perhaps a duel about the future of the whole galaxy.

And you hated that on that day you’d either lose a husband or a brother. Losing your husband would be much worse – you couldn’t imagine your life without Feyd now and what you’d end up like without his protection. On the other hand, seeing Paul die – even changed like that – would bring you no pleasure.

“Give my husband his blade back,” you barked at the Fremen guards as you stood next to Princess Irulan and watched the guard hesitantly handing Feyd his knife.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Baroness,” Princess Irulan hissed at you.

“Would you rather get on your knees and beg him, Princess?” You asked her.

“For my father’s life, I would.”

“Well, that is not a tradition of The House Harkonnen to beg on our knees,” you explained.

No one had to know how pathetic the late Baron had been in his last moments. Or how easy it was to humiliate Count Glossu Rabban.

“Have faith, mother,” your son’s voice brought you great comfort as Feyd and Paul stood facing each other. Hot Arrakis' sun was setting slowly behind them; its light was making them both look more like nothing but dark silhouettes.

“It’s nice to meet you, cousin,” Paul greeted your husband.

“Cousin? Is that so?” Feyd looked amused.

“Please, save your father. Do not let your uncle have any advantage. Let your father have a fair fight,” you pleaded to the baby inside you.

You had to be very desperate to count on the unborn child to save you, you realised.

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Paul raised his blade to perform the traditional Harkonnen gesture.

It annoyed you how he displayed his Harkonnen heritage as if he was more of it than you were. He might have had their blood but he was no Harkonnen. Perhaps that was what you had always felt towards your brother above anything else – annoyance. 

He was simply annoying in a way he was nothing special and yet your father favoured him because he was a boy and a son of a woman your father loved. It was annoying that he had a mother and you did not. That he would inherit the title you could only dream of. That he was following you around like a lost puppy, pretending that you two were normal, loving siblings. You loved him but the annoyance was often stronger. And now the love was barely there.

Your brother had died in that desert. Muad’Dib was not your brother.

Just like Baroness Harkonnen was not his sister.

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Feyd smirked at Paul as he repeated the Harkonnen gesture and the duel began.

The whole room went completely silent. The only sounds were the ones of the fight – the music of the crossing knives and occasional grunts. Amongst the Fremen women, two watched the most curiously. One of them was naturally Lady Jessica, meanwhile the other one was a young woman whose blue eyes were following Paul’s every move.

Feyd noticed her, too, as he pointed at her with a smirk.

“Your pet?” He asked Paul.

Your brother did not answer and attacked but you had your eyes glued on the Fremen woman. She would possibly cause trouble in case of Paul’s death, so you wanted to remember her face.

You did not like the way Paul seemed to fight as good as your husband. You were aware his skills had improved but nothing could prepare you for the sight of him blocking nearly every blow and successfully performing his own. The way these two skillful warriors fought reminded you more of some sort of sophisticated dance than a common fight. And if this duel was not about your future and your life, you’d love to watch it and admire it.

Princess Irulan was as scared as you were. She held your hand and you squeezed it to give her comfort.

As women you could only watch and hope for the men to spare you. In times like that, you hated to be a woman. No matter how much power and influence you were holding, in critical moments like this, you were only an observer of the grand spectacle of life.

A soft gasp left your mouth at the sight of your brother attacking Feyd with so much ferocity that your husband stumbled for a moment and when he raised his head again, you spotted fresh blood dripping from his nose all over his chin. He smirked, of course, since pain was bringing him pleasure. However, his pain was bringing no pleasure to you.

The duel progressed in a more aggressive manner. The foreplay was long gone now as two opponents were growing more and more frustrated with each other. It was getting less sophisticated and more messy. You tried to follow the movements closely but sometimes you missed half of them because of their speed.

Princess Irulan’s loud wheeze made you realise that Paul’s blade found a thin gap in Feyd’s stillsuit as his blade cut deep into your husband’s flesh right below his rib. Your eyes widened at the sight and your heart sank so deep in your chest that you forgot to breathe to the point of dizziness.

Paul had a smirk on his face when he turned around to face you as Feyd dropped his blade and stumbled behind him. You stood there, petrified as the reality around you seemed to slow down.

You felt more like an animal than a human being at that moment – your head was empty, you were driven by nothing but instincts.

Feyd fell down to his knees as Paul began walking towards you, limping slightly. Your free hand covered your womb as your other hand squeezed Irulan’s hand so tight you nearly crashed it. You tried to keep your eyes on Paul, you wanted to observe his moves to make sure you’d be able to somehow defend yourself. But you couldn’t. You kept staring at your husband and you noticed his struggle to get the blade out of his body. You couldn’t understand why he was trying to do that since a skilled and experienced fighter like him had known perfectly well it was never a good idea.

On shaky legs but with all the force, bleeding from his fresh wound, Feyd rose up and attacked Paul yet again, accompanied by Lady Jessica’s scream that made you shiver.

Your brother turned around, surprised to see Feyd back on his feet again – desperate act of a wounded, dying animal, ready to sacrifice everything to win the final battle. Feyd pushed the blade in between the gaps of Paul’s stillsuit and twisted the knife with a psychotic smile before they both fell to the ground.

After a short while of silence with the waves of shock going through your body, you screamed and ran up to Feyd. Lady Jessica stood up and ran up to her son. Everyone watched with widened eyes the two feral women kneeling down arm to arm, holding the wounded men in their arms.

Feyd chuckled at the sight of you and coughed up as you put your hands on his wound. The Harkonnen blood was thicker, which was making bleeding out to death a more difficult process but you could see his eyes getting hazy anyway.

You felt the tears streaming down your face as you caressed his cheek and he raised his hand weakly to put it on your womb.

“No!” Lady Jessica’s scream was animalistic. You turned your head around and saw her face winced in so much pain and anger that she no longer seemed human. You took a short glance down and noticed that life had completely left your brother’s body by now. It stinged your heart, too, but you knew that it meant only one thing – Feyd had won. You were The Duchess Atreides now. “He’s dead!” Lady Jessica yelled at you.

You were a mother now, too. You couldn’t imagine the depth of her pain and loss. Her only son – dead in her arms. Your brother.

Her hand reached out for the blade stuck in Paul’s guts. The same blade that had wounded your husband before. Now she wanted to slay Feyd with it to make sure he would die, too.

“Mother,” your son warned you and driven by a pure instinct you swiftly grabbed the short knife attached to the armour piece on your hip beneath all the folds of your dress. Without thinking you stabbed her before she was able to take the blade out of her son’s dead body.

Lady Jessica’s blue eyes widened as she looked deep into yours and you sobbed.

“Forgive me,” you whispered, your hand shaking as you had just committed your very first direct murder.

You would never find out all the things you wanted to ask her. Sometimes even the biggest questions remained unanswered. Perhaps it was for the best.

And Lady Jessica had to understand that what you had done was caused by your need to protect your family. She had been one of those people sending you to the Harkonnens. She couldn’t be surprised now to see you had become one of them. You had to protect them.

Her body fell down on top of Paul’s and all the Fremen started to look around uncomfortably. You did not care, you focused on your husband again. His eyelids were getting heavy but he was still smiling.

“Can somebody help?!” You asked, looking around. “Please,” you begged Gurney.

“Stilgar,” he looked at one of the Fremen who looked like he was important and most likely the new leader after Muad’Dib’s death. “Bring here those servants we are holding captive,” he told him.

The man called Stilgar nodded unsurely and two Fremen guards left the room in a hurry.

“Please, don’t die,” you whispered to Feyd, cradling his head and putting it on your lap delicately. “Please, don’t leave me now.”

“I’ve made you proud, my Lady?” He asked in a weak whisper.

“Oh, you’ve made me the proudest,” you smiled through the tears. “But you can’t leave us now… None of this matters without you, my darling,” you wiped the blood off of his chin with your sleeve but it only smeared some more. “I love you, please…”

You expected to give up completely one day and finally confess your feelings but you had never expected it would be on the day of his death.

Feyd chuckled as his hand weakly slid down your womb as he no longer had any strength to keep it there. 

“I love you, too, pet,” his whisper was inaudible but you heard him right and sobbed some more, watching his eyes close.

“No! No, no, no…” You lowered yourself down and pressed your forehead to his, covering his face with your tears.

The doors opened and the Harkonnen medic entered the room in a hurry, accompanied by a few spared servants with Astra and Cara among them. Your poor girls were terrified and trembling. It was a great relief to see them but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care much about anything but your husband.

What was the point of defeating Paul? What was the point of anything without Feyd by your side?

The medic hurried to your side and knelt down next to Feyd’s body. He examined it quickly and furrowed his brows.

“My Lady, he’s still alive,” he informed you and you looked up at him.

“Wh-what?”

“The body functions are still there, Baroness. He lost consciousness due to the blood loss but maybe… Maybe I can still save The Baron’s life,” he swallowed thickly.

“What are you waiting for then?!” You yelled at him and he nodded, beckoning over a few male servants to help him carry Feyd’s body to the medical wing of the palace.

You stood up clumsily and watched them walk out. You wanted to follow them and forget about anything else but you were aware that at a moment like this you could not leave any case unfinished.

You faced The Emperor. He looked as if he was about to have a heart attack, his face paler than usual and his eyes widened. His shaking hand was holding Irulan’s one.

“I, Duchess (Y/N) of The House Atreides, Baroness of The House Harkonnen, pledge my allegiance to The Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV,” you kneeled down and bowed your head.

His time would come, too, of that you were sure. But not now. Not yet.

“May your service be accepted, Duchess Atreides, Baroness Harkonnen,” he nodded at you and stood up once again.

You turned around at the Fremen, looking at the man named Stilgar who had been watching you very closely ever since Paul’s death.

“You may attack us but all the ships above us with the galactic leaders will destroy your homeworld in revenge,” you informed him. “Or you might cooperate with me. I will give you what my father has never given you and what he would never give you,” you added. “I shall join my husband now but I want you to stay here and negotiate with you.”

Stilgar looked around to see the faces of his fellow Fremen brothers and sisters. You knew that the reason they had not yet attacked you despite all your guards being slain was respect. You were the one to win the duel and it was your husband who slain their Muad’Dib. You were the one to slay their Reverend Mother.

Some of the fellow Fremen were shaking their heads hesitantly, not trusting you. But some of them were nodding.

“We can divide the planet for spice production and for Fremen to live in. We do not harvest spice in the south of Arrakis because it is inhabitable to us,” you explained. “So if we give the south to you, we will not lose any production. And you will have your own territory to live in. I am going to help you to turn the south of Arrakis into a more friendly place as much as possible. The Harkonnen science is well developed, I am sure they will find a way to make trees grow again there. And I offer you to have a representative during the most important councils about Arrakis’ faith in the future. That would be you, I assume?” You tried to explain calmly. “I do not want you as enemies. Arrakis is big and spacious enough for all of us.”

The long silence occurred.

“What if I was wrong? What if she is Lisan Al Gaib?” Stilgar asked and some of the Fremen rolled their eyes angrily.

“I am no Lisan Al Gaib,” you told him, “I am Duchess Atreides, Baroness Harkonnen. That is how you shall address me.”

“The leaders of The Great Houses are getting impatient,” one of the Fremen said as he was monitoring the tracking device in his hand.

“Tell them to come down,” you looked at him. “They shall witness our new deal.”

Hesitantly, Stilgar nodded at the man.

“Now, do excuse me, I should go to my husband,” you nodded your head at him and then at The Emperor.

You were about to walk out, when Gurney spoke up.

“What about Paul’s body? Lady Jessica’s?”

“Do you know where my father’s remains are?” You asked him.

“I have my assumptions,” he answered. There was no kindness nor love in his eyes anymore when he was looking at you. There was hurt, betrayal and anger. None of it mattered to you anymore.

“Find it then and send all of them back to Caladan. Lay them down next to my mother,” you told him. “I do not want Arrakis to be known for being a place where the Atreides rot.”

“My Lady,” he nodded.

With your eyes you found the Fremen woman who most likely had been Paul’s lover. She was now kneeling to his body and stroking his cheeks.

“You,” you addressed her as she looked up angrily. She could kill you with her eyes only if she could. “What is your name?”

“Chani,” she answered proudly.

“Was Muad’Dib your lover?”

She hesitated before answering.

“Yes.”

“Change of plans, then,” you looked at Gurney. “Lady Jessica and my father shall go back to Caladan. Let this woman bury Muad’Dib as she wishes.”

“My Lady,” he bowed.

“Let it be known that Baroness Harkonnen can get a little sentimental,” you smirked at Chani before walking out of the room.

Your body was so full of adrenaline that you felt as if you were in a dream.

Feyd was unconscious for three days now and most of them you were spending in the medical wing, holding his hand. In the meantime you were working on a deal with Stilgar. The Emperor had left Arrakis as soon as possible but not without thanking you for your loyalty and support that he had promised not to forget.

With fake kindness you assured him of your sincerity as if you hadn’t been already planning how to get rid of him next. Seeing his weakness and how easily your brother would take his title, if not stopped by your husband, made your own hunger for power even greater.

The leaders of The Great Houses hadn’t stayed for long but they borrowed you servants and guards for until your own would come from Giedi Prime, sent by Count Glossu Rabban.

So much was happening and so many things there were to process but your mind was in a haze. All you could truly focus on was Feyd. At first you wanted to give up completely but it was your son who decided to motivate you.

“You have to be strong now, mother. Do it for me,” he had pleaded.

And he had been right. You had to make all the arrangements to ensure the position of the House Harkonnen for your heir. 

Holding Feyd’s cold hand and caressing his fingers, you watched his body functions on the monitor. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. Some part of you was glad he was getting all this rest. You just hoped he would eventually be alright.

Suddenly, you felt his cold slim fingers move slightly. You looked at his face and watched his eyelids flutter before opening slowly. He looked around, confused.

“Pet?” He only asked at the sight of you, confused, as you smiled widely and sobbed a few happy tears.

“Oh, Feyd!” You leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his lips. “Oh, my darling…”

“Shouldn’t I be dead now?”

“Not on my watch,” you caressed his cheeks. “You’ve been knocked out for three days, my Baron,” you told him. “Let me call a medic to examine you.”

You stood up and informed the guard behind the doors that Baron Harkonnen was awake and he nodded before walking away to call for the medic.

While you waited for him, you told Feyd about everything that had been happening for the past three days. He was only watching you closely and nodding his head.

“My uncle was right. You’re better suited to be The Baroness than I am to be The Baron,” he told you eventually.

“Don’t say that! You’d do the same,” you assured him, squeezing his hand.

“No, I would not. I would slay all the Fremen once I’d have an army here.”

“You would not because I would advise you otherwise,” you chuckled and then you took a deep breath in. “I can’t wait to go back home.”

“Home?” He furrowed his brows.

“Giedi Prime,” you answered like it was obvious. “I want our son to be born there.”

“We need to find someone worthy of being the Governor of Arrakis first. Someone loyal and not a complete idiot like my brother,” Feyd reminded you.

“I’ve already found one and sent him a letter,” you admitted, a little anxious about his reaction.

“Who?”

“Lord Kirill, the one who married one of my former maids. She bore him a son not so long ago. He will be loyal and I’ve read about his successful military campaigns in one of the books,” you answered.

“Lord Kirill is not a bad choice,” Feyd nodded. “We can allow him to try.”

“I’ve told that man, Stilgar, that he can write to me any time if anything happens. For some reason he seems to respect me greatly. Probably because I have slain their Reverend Mother,” you laughed nervously.

“And how do you feel about it?” Feyd asked, squinting his eyes at you as he slowly sat up on the bed.

You didn’t answer at first. Your smile dropped and you stared in the distance.

“I remember how your uncle told me that you had killed your mother. I could not understand it back then. It seemed to be the worst thing a person can do,” you admitted. “But I’ve realised that I have killed my mother twice. I killed my biological mother by being born and I killed Lady Jessica who has raised me. And guess what… The sun still rises in the morning. My blood still flows. As if nothing terrible happened at all. Strange,” you looked at him again.

“With time you just don’t feel anything anymore,” he assured you.

“She was with a child, the medic told me. Lady Jessica was as pregnant as I am. With a daughter. My sister,” you whispered.

“So, you slaughtered them both,” Feyd smirked. Of course it brought him some sadistic satisfaction.

“I have slaughtered the last member of The Atreides family except for me,” you told him. “This House dies with me so the House Harkonnen can thrive. This is the greatest sacrifice and I only hope it is going to pay off.”

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head.

“You shall give my son The Harkonnen Empire,” you stated but before he could answer, the medic entered the room with a smile.

“I’m so glad to see you awake, my Baron,” he approached your husband. “You must be starving, I’ve told the cooks to prepare your favourite steak.”

Feyd nodded at him.

“My Lady, your servant girls would like to see you,” the medic told you and you stood up.

“From now on, you shall address Astra and Cara as my maids,” you told him.

The title would not change much about their position but at least it was giving them some dignity. The medic’s eyes widened a little but he nodded.

“I will see you soon,” you leaned in to place a kiss upon Feyd’s forehead before walking out and going to your bedroom.

Astra and Cara were standing by the window, waiting for your arrival. When you entered the chamber, they both approached you excitedly.

“Is that true that the Baron is awake now, my Lady?” Astra asked.

“Yes, my darling, it is,” you nodded.

“Oh, what a relief!” Cara sighed.

They were terrified of Feyd but they knew that if he died, no one would allow you to be Baroness Harkonnen on your own. The Harkonnen lords would most likely start an uprising. No one would accept a woman in charge – especially an off-world woman. They would rather crown Count Glossu Rabban their next Baron and you’d be an outcast alongside your son. Without any family to go to. Meanwhile, your servants – now maids – would either be killed or enslaved again.

But that would not happen – not at all. And it was hard to believe that you really had survived and found a new home, new family, new purpose. Perhaps you fitted even better with them than you had ever had with The Atreides on Caladan. Perhaps it was making it easier to cope when you believed that.

Bittersweet was the taste of your victory. You still remembered your brother’s dead body laying on the floor. You remembered Lady Jessica’s widened eyes right after you stabbed her. They would haunt you forever but you knew they were inevitable to happen if you wanted your happy ending and your survival.

And you wanted them more than anything.

Coming back to Giedi Prime was making you a bit anxious. You weren’t sure what people’s reactions would be to Feyd and you being the new Baron and Baroness Harkonnen. Rabban was assuring you that the citizens were rather excited but you were mostly worried about the noble lords. Only the most stupid ones believed in the late Baron’s death being caused by Muad’Dib. But the stupid ones didn’t matter.

The official ceremony of you and your husband becoming the Baron and Baroness was planned for the day after your arrival. Surprisingly, Rabban who had been responsible for making arrangements, had done a splendid job. The whole Giedi Prime was decorated already when you looked at the city from the windows of your ship. He was doing his best to stay in Feyd’s favour.

“Do you wish to keep your old bedrooms, my Lord, my Lady?” One of the servants asked once you entered the Giedi Prime’s fortress. “We can prepare the late Baron’s chambers for you.”

“Is that the room with the bathtub?” You asked and Feyd nodded at you with a hint of disgust in his eyes. “We wish to keep our old ones, thank you,” you informed the servant. “But I do want to change some decor,” you added. “Some other time, though, now I’m exhausted,” you dismissed the bowing man.

“You still say thank you to the servants, even now when you’re The Baroness,” Feyd smirked at you as you two began walking down the corridor to reach the staircase.

It was a surprising feeling but you sighed out of relief as you passed all the huge black doors on your way. It truly felt like home.

“That is how I was raised. It’s not easy to change what we were taught as children,” you reminded him and he nodded.

Feyd walked you to your shared bedrooms since you could barely walk in your current state. You were about to give birth any day now and you noticed he didn’t like leaving you alone for long when you were in that state. He waited for Astra and Cara to join you before he eventually left to deal with some official duties as The Baron.

Your maids brought a celebration dress with them to show you and make the final fittings. It was so huge that it filled half of the bedroom space. Black and feathered with enough volume to hide your pregnancy.

“How do you feel, Baroness?” Astra asked as she fixed one of the feathers on the dress’ fabric and you were looking at yourself in the mirror.

“Like an Empress already,” you smirked to yourself.

Cara and Astra looked at each other significantly but they chose not to comment.

“Like an Empress of death,” you added. “I imagine The Harkonnen Empire to be a dark, cold and scary place. I can see snakes slithering down the black marble floors, following me wherever I go, willing to attack any enemy of mine,” you dreamt out loud.

In one of the Harkonnen books you had read about such creatures – genetically modified to be loyal pets to their owners and deadly attacking their enemies. You had been waiting to become The Baroness to ask the engineers for pets like these, too.

The celebration was supposed to start in the late afternoon but you were on your feet since early morning, dealing with official papers to sign and to get familiar with. There were off-world guests to greet – Princess Irulan amongst them, representing House Corrino and her father. He was still grateful for what you had done on Arrakis in a nearly exaggerated way. Perhaps he knew about your bloodthirsty ambitions blooming within you and he hoped to become your friend.

The Emperor himself being desperate for you to like him because of the power you were holding now. That was delicious in a way, you had to admit.

He was not the only one. The word had spread about what had happened on Arrakis. Feyd was known now as one of the greatest warriors in the galaxy who would sacrifice everything for The House Harkonnen. And you were known for being cunning, dignified and unhinged in a way you were able to murder a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother who had been your family member. The new Baron and Baroness Harkonnen were quickly becoming characters of scary stories people would tell their misbehaving children. Cold and bloodthirsty; unstoppable and inseparable force.

You couldn’t tell what moment of the ceremony was your favourite – when everyone was looking at you walking slowly and gasping at your dress or when the Harkonnen army saluted you and swore to shed blood for you, making you realise what kind of massive army you were truly commanding now. Perhaps it was the moment of making vows or putting on the Harkonnen insignia. Or maybe an unscripted, passionate and hungry kiss that Feyd gave you in front of everybody once you were announced officially The Baron and Baroness of The House Harkonnen. That kiss was a promise of more. He would give you so much more than this. And you would be by his side every step of the way.

You were his anchor and he was your blade. The whole galaxy knew that now.

The Giedi Prime was celebrating but you chose to go back to your chambers quite early. You were not pleased with missing the party but you were exhausted after a whole day of walking and standing. Astra and Cara helped you to change into your nightgown and they were in the process of brushing your hair softly when you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen.

“My Lady?” Cara asked, worryingly.

“It’s fine, just a contraction,” you smiled at her. They had been occasionally happening for a few days now.

“Are you sure, Baroness?” Astra looked at your face in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are we sure?” You asked your son in your head.

“It’s time, mother,” the familiar voice answered.

Your eyes widened as another contraction came and you grabbed the edge of your vanity table. The girls looked at each other, scared.

“Call for the medic and inform The Baron,” you told them and they nodded their heads.

Astra stayed with you while Cara recruited one of the guards in front of your doors to go with her and find Feyd and the medic. With Astra’s help you sat on the edge of your bed and squeezed her hand.

“I might die, Astra,” you told her and she shook her head, terrified. “Listen to me, my mother died giving birth and I am aware this might happen to me as well.”

“My Lady, no… I refuse to…” She started with a trembling voice.

“Astra, listen to me, it’s important,” you drawled through your teeth gritted out of pain. She closed her lips and looked at you with her big Harkonnen eyes. “If I die tonight, I want you and Cara to take care of my son, do you hear me?”

She nodded as tears started to form in the corner of her eyes.

“The medic has been informed. He knows about my wish and he told me you and Cara have been studying infant care intensely. Feyd knows he cannot hurt you nor Cara. You will be safe, do not worry about that. I ensured that,” you assured her.

“Th-thank you, my Lady…” Astra stuttered out.

“In return, I ask you to take care of my son. And to keep him away from the Bene Gesserit scheming. Please,” you pleaded.

“I promise. In Cara’s name, too,” Astra put her free hand on her heart and you broke a smile at her.

She was barely sixteen and you were placing such great responsibility upon her shoulders. You couldn’t deal with it differently, though. It was a cruel world you lived in and much worse things were being forced upon sixteen years old girls anyway.

You feared death. Especially now when you were about to give birth to your son and begin your reign. You had things to look for and your child might had not been conceived out of love but it was still wanted by you. You did not feel trapped in a loveless marriage like your mother had been. You actually wanted to give Feyd-Rautha a son. Many sons and many daughters; you wanted to be known for giving House Harkonnen many successful heirs. You wanted to be an important figure in their history books one day.

But as much as you feared death, you also knew that it was also a place where your mother was waiting for you, your father, your brother, Lady Jessica and your unborn sister. You liked to think that even now they’d still greet you with open arms. And if not, you’d just wait for Feyd patiently.

Your depressing stream of thought was interrupted by the black doors opening rapidly without knocking. It was the medic accompanied by Cara and Feyd. You had never seen your husband stressed before. Usually so stoic, he was on the verge of a breakdown.

“Prepare the bed for The Baroness,” the medic ordered Astra and Cara helped her with the duvets and towels.

Feyd helped you to stand up and he cupped your face in his cold and shivering hands.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“How do you think I feel?” You rolled your eyes and hissed out of pain as another contraction hit you. “Like shit.”

“You can do it, my pet. You’re the strongest woman I know,” he assured you and helped you to get in bed. The medic was preparing some injections already that were supposed to make the process go smoother and easier.

“Our technology allows the whole childbirth to be nearly painless,” he told you with a smile. “Of course only the richest can afford such shots.”

“Remember what I’ve told you before,” Feyd barked at him. He was standing beside your bed and squeezing your hand in his. Astra and Cara were standing on the other side with a bowl full of cold water and a towel to wipe your forehead when needed.

The medic nodded and you furrowed your brow. He injected the first shot and you winced, squeezing Feyd’s hand tighter.

“What is that arrangement between you two?” You asked but they did not answer. “I have a right to know if it is about me or my child!” You demanded.

The medic looked at your husband and after a short moment of hesitation, Feyd nodded at him.

“The Baron has made me promise to… To ensure you live, my Lady. Even if it means your son will not,” he explained.

“You’d sacrifice your heir?” Your eyes widened when you looked up at your husband. He crouched down and leaned in to kiss your temple and to whisper in your ear so the rest would not hear him properly.

“We can produce more heirs. And if we can’t, any whore can give me a son. But no one would ever replace you, my Baroness,” he told you.

“You can’t let our son die… No…” You nearly cried. “You don’t understand, Feyd. These past few weeks I have been talking to him every day. I already have a bond with him. And he saved your life on Arrakis… If someone has to die tonight, it’s going to be me,” you tried to convince him to change his mind but he only clenched his jaw and gave you an angry look before standing up again.

“So far, the baby is placed properly,” the medic assured you. “I do not think anyone is going to die tonight.”

The sunlight was already creeping in through the narrow windows of your bedroom. Exhausted, squeezing your husband’s hand, you finally made the final push. If the medic claimed that thanks to his injections the process had been nearly painless, you did not want to know what it would be like without the said injections.

But it was finally over and the loud cry of a newborn baby filled the whole room as you sighed with relief.

“Oh, he’s a big boy, my Lord, my Lady,” the medic smiled at you as he cradled the baby in his arms. “Strong and healthy,” he assured you and handed your son to Cara. Astra wiped your face with a towel and brushed the hair out of your face gently and you reached out weakly to hold your child. You were too exhausted to process the thought of having a son but when he was finally placed in your arms and stopped crying at the sight of you, you burst out in happy tears.

The boy had your eyes and soft, fluffy, thin baby hairs on his head. His skin colour was much paler than yours but not as white as his fathers.

“He looks more like me,” you thought out loud as Feyd chuckled, staring at the boy in your arms with his chin resting on your shoulder.

“His hair might start falling out once he’s getting older,” the medic informed you.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” you chuckled through your tears. “I’m still going to love him even when he’s bald.”

“My Lord, shall we inform the people of the birth of the na-baron?” The medic asked your husband.

“Immediately,” Feyd answered. You spotted pride and excitement in his voice even though he was trying to hide it.

“Do you have a name, my Lady?” The medic laid his eyes on you.

“I want to bring back the old Harkonnen tradition,” you stated. “The one about giving your first born son the name of the Wedding Games winner from his parents’ wedding,” you brought up the fun fact you had read in one of the books from the Harkonnen library. “But I would also like him to be named after his father just like my husband bears his grandfather’s name,” you added. “What about Maxim-Feyd Harkonnen?” You looked up at your husband, trying to read the reaction from his face.

“You can name him whatever you wish as long as it is not Vladimir,” he only said.

“Na-Baron Maxim-Feyd Harkonnen that is,” you nodded at the medic and he left your bedroom to announce the birth of the new heir.

“Girls, can you leave us alone for a moment?” You asked your maids and they bowed down before walking out quietly as well.

Once you were left alone in the room with your husband and your son, you moved slightly to the side, wincing out of pain.

“Come, join us?” You looked at Feyd and he nodded, hesitantly, before sitting up on the bed next to you. He put his arm around you and his eyes were not leaving your son even for a moment. “What do you think? Now, without anyone to witness?” You teased, knowing perfectly well there were things Feyd would never say or do with any kind of audience.

“I think he’s… beautiful,” he admitted and raised his finger to caress the boy’s cheek. “And I’m glad he was born in a world without my uncle in it.”

“And that’s because of you, my darling. You protected him,” you reminded. “Like you always will, yes?”

“He is my heir. Everything I do, I do for him. My legacy is for him to inherit,” Feyd answered and placed a kiss on your cheek.

You stayed like that for a while, in complete silence, looking at Maxim who was staring back at you with his wide eyes.

“Do you hear me?” You tried but there was no answer. However, the baby kicked his feet slightly when you spoke to him with your mind.

“You’re going to be a strong warrior, my darling. The most fearsome in the galaxy,” you promised him in a whisper. “The greatest pride of the House Harkonnen. Mummy will make sure of that.”

You heard the sound of fireworks going off in the distance, black splashes of ink-like gas scattered all over the morning sky. Giedi Prime had already found out about the birth of your son.

“They will want to see him,” you turned your head around to look at Feyd.

“They can wait,” he told you. “You rest.”

“No, I can do it. I want to show them,” you assured him and pecked his lips gently. “Tell Astra and Cara to come here and prepare me.”

He nodded and leaned in to place a kiss upon his son’s forehead before leaving the bedroom to find your maids. You thought you’d feed Maxim first but he was already falling asleep in your arms, so when your girls entered the chambers, you handed Astra your child delicately and she took him to the bathroom to bathe him. You needed a bath as well and Cara helped you with it, holding your hand as you were moving slowly on shaky legs.

Your dress was black and very simple – humble even. After all, you were not supposed to be the main attraction on that day. Your hair was done up and the only jewellery you were wearing was the rings of your houses. Maxim was put in traditional black clothes for the newborn Harkonnen babies and you waited for the noon, half asleep on your armchair, feeding your baby with the help of Astra and Cara. Your dress was pulled down but ready to zip back up any given moment.

Feyd entered the room but he unusually announced his arrival with a soft knock upon your doors. He was wearing his black leather uniform and froze at the sight of you feeding his son.

“Since when do you knock?” You looked up at him with a soft smile.

“I didn’t want to startle the baby,” he told you. “You’re feeding the child yourself?” He was visibly surprised.

“I will not let any Harkonnen woman feed my child. There is enough poison in him already,” you answered. “And it is good for creating a bond between the mother and her child anyway.”

“How long does he need? The people have already gathered and they want to see him,” Feyd approached you.

“It’s not noon yet.”

“They’re impatient, my Baroness,” he smirked and looked down at his child sucking on your breast. Maxim looked up at him and reached his tiny hand up.

You sighed at the sight of Feyd looking completely paralyzed. You moved one of your hands gently to grab your husband’s pointing finger and put it in your son’s hand. Maxim squeezed it tightly and you chuckled.

“He’s strong already,” Feyd noticed.

“Of course he is, he’s your son,” you nodded. “But it’s enough now, my boy, you’ll get more later, I promise,” you nodded at Cara. She took the child from you delicately as Astra wiped your breast and helped you to put the upper part of the dress back on. Maxim whined for a while but Cara successfully shushed him by carrying him in her arms.

Feyd helped you to stand up and he led you out of the bedroom with Astra and Cara following you closely. You approached the big glass doors leading to the balcony of the fortress. You could already hear the cheers of the gathered masses waiting to see the heir.

You took a deep breath in as Cara handed you Maxim and Feyd nodded at the guards to open the doors. Slowly and carefully you walked out into the black-and-white world. Thousands of nearly identical pale faces were waiting impatiently to see you and when you finally graced them with your smile and a wave of your hand, they cheered loudly, causing Maxim to startle and cry. The sound of his crying caused the crowd to go even wilder, though.

You handed your son to Feyd and he raised his arms to show off the crying boy to the cheering and saluting population of Giedi Prime. He held him up in the air for a while and then he carefully gave him back to you and joined your lips together in a hungry, passionate kiss. He cupped your face to hold it in place as he devoured you. All the cheers and your baby’s crying were suddenly nothing but a muffled sound. All that mattered was you and Feyd-Rautha, showing his loyalty and gratitude to his Baroness.

Scared and naive Princess Atreides who had come to Giedi Prime a year earlier, she hadn’t known how much she could endure and survive. How much she had been capable of. She couldn’t have known that this scary place was indeed her home and that terrifying man was the love of her life.

Perhaps for the first time in your life you felt sincerely and thoroughly respected and appreciated. You had a purpose and you had a hunger for more.

And although no one else could hear him in that noise, it still surprised you what your husband dared to say to you in public.

“I love you,” he breathed out after breaking the kiss, still holding your face steadily in his hands and staring deep into your eyes. “I will give you the world.”

You nodded at him with a soft smile.

“I love you, too, my Baron.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE 2.0 — Hi, it's me again! 👋🏻 I want to explain a few choices that I didn't want to mention about before the chapter because it would spoil the events. At first, Reader's baby was supposed to be just a regular baby – strong warrior of course etc., but nothing extremely special. Some of you were calling him jokingly an antichrist, though and it gave me an idea. I decided that giving him special abilities would actually make it possible for Feyd-Rautha to win the duel with Paul. Otherwise, Paul would be able to kill him because he'd be able to foresee Feyd's moves like it happened in the movie. So, the whole theory that the baby is an antichrist was actually very helpful and made the plot of Feyd killing Paul more possible. 😈 Also, I decided to rewrite the scenes from the movie because whenever I am writing fics that happen in the movie scenes, the worst part is to actually describe the events on the screen and writing down everything actors are saying etc. I've always hated doing that so I decided to just be inspired by the events of the movie but go with my own version, especially that the presence of Paul's sister would obviously change the dynamic anyway. I know that some of you hoped Paul would live and have some sort of a deal with Feyd and his wife. I also liked the idea of arranging the marriage between Alia and their son. But as I said before – I decided to go with my original plan for this story. I hope I am forgiven. 😅

MASTERLIST

you've done it all nanamin, you can rest now. we love you.

— ocean waves.

the sun's gentle with it's rays shining throughout the beach. the waves rolling along with the salty breeze. the sand's nice too. his footsteps disappearing when the waves rolls along with his problem.

he was free.

it wasn't so bad, after all.

he always wanted this but the need to save others came first but now there wasn't any of it. no curses. no overtime. just him. splashing with the cool water when the breeze fanning all over him and the sun bathing him in it's warm rays. there's no need to reminisce about the past but somehow it's time for him to look back.

sixteen.

sixteen he was when nanami gets a glimpse of how life flashes in your own eyes even it's not your own death.

sixteen he was when nanami first felt what death must feel like and the bitter taste it left with his tongue. bile rising and words stuck in his throat followed by the sensation of being choked. death didn't made him sick. it was the cruelness of how the world works for jujutsu sorcerers like himself and to haibara.

haibara was sixteen and so was he. the difference between him and haibara. he aged. haibara was sixteen forever.

the despair of being weak and being faced with the inevitable damaged him. it's part of the cycle, the system. he accepted it. embraced it but what of it to a sixteen year old?

and so he left. ran away.

away from the madness this world had to offer for someone like him. you're not the only who's damaged, kento. he thinks to himself sometimes and brushes it like a dirt when he moved on.

did he truly moved on?

twenty seven.

“nanami, long time no see.” you said the first time you meet him on the hallways of jujutsu tech. “i thought you weren't coming back — after that.” he can see how your shoulders shake, lips quivering. fully knowing what you meant. it has never been the same and with that you walked away from him.

it's like a slap to his face how he left you alone. you were there. felt the same pain of losing someone. you were also part of his life and he chose to ignore you. you needed him. the same he needed you but he was never good at his feelings and with his words and like a coward he is, he ran away from his feelings and to you.

hopefully, he won't run away again this time with you in the picture.

nanami didn't expect this that he would catch feelings at this stage of his life to you. a closure and make amends to you even it wasn't needed. you remind him of the happy times. the days of his youth and the last time he felt happy and with you, slowly, he was getting attached again.

“we're still allowed to be happy, kento. don't be too hard on yourself.” you say to him out of the blue. leaning your head in his shoulder and nanami moves his arm to cradle you. putting you in his lap and you fully lean in his arm. “you make me happy.” he briefly said to you and he watch as your eyes widens, tears pooling in your lashes and rolls to your round cheeks. his thumb wiping the tears and he found himself his reflection in the glossy eyes of yours. a man whose damaged to admit to himself. a man whose tired with the bullshit that he had to deal and a man whose capable of loving someone, of loving you.

far too damaged to function as one — to love. he couldn't afford to go through the same pain of losing someone again. he couldn't but the squeezing feeling in his chest tells him otherwise and he took a leap of faith again with you. he will protect you even it's the last thing he can ever do.

and with that his thumb brushing in your round cheeks. leaning down to catch your lips with his and just what like he imagined. all this years and he could have done this sooner. kissed you with love and adoration with the longing and the sadness.

the kiss it was fine. just both of your lips brushing with each other along with murmurs of your names. it's gentle that the tears won't stop pouring and nanami is there to wipe it all and kisses your tears away with the promise of starting again.

twenty eight.

after months of being with you, nanami will be always reminded of how history always repeats itself. of how things are out of reach for him.

you were gone.

“see you on the other side, kento.” you smile at him. he watches as the light and warmth in your eyes disappear. there's no tears for him and he wants to laugh at himself. he swore to protect you and guess who protected him — you. there's no regret visible in you more like relieved.

shibuya was cruel. walking around with corpses scattered in the streets and he carried your lifeless body and placed it on the ambulance waiting. you were far long gone to be revived and nanami kisses your forehead. the gesture you loved so much before walking without looking back.

at the brink of death — he sees haibara. pointing behind him and itadori was there. he was contemplating that itadori shouldn't be burdened and carry such heavy matter in his young hands but haibara was stubborn and nanami let out a small smile and with that he turned around.

“you take it from here.”

the salty air, the cool water and the waves gently splashing in the sand with his feet dipped in the grainy sand. nanami think this must be it. he served his purpose and along those ridged lines of the sand. the look in his eyes doesn't change. those brown eyes with the hardness although they're a little softer. he's contented.

nanami stretches his arm. looking at the sand beneath his feet. smiling at himself. feel the gentle breeze in his face. he wasn't tired anymore. it's not too bad he thinks as he continued to walk. waves rolling like a blanket being covered to your body at night. it was gentle. splashing himself with water and relishes on the coolness of it

in the other side of the beach he makes out a figure. a all too familiar figure. it's you. staring at the distance like you were waiting for someone, dressed in a white sundress. your head turning to the side to meet him, look at him with a smile dancing in your lips.

he stops in his tracks. can't believe what his eyes were seeing before his tentative steps turning into a full running to get to you.

“kento.” you murmur. foreheads pressed together and nanami could almost cry. you're here with him and he hugs you tightly. afraid that you'll disappear from him again. “you look so happy there. i'm really glad you're happy, kento.” you whisper to him but nanami shakes his head.

“i am. now i'm with you.” you giggle at his words. nuzzling at his chest and nanami draws circles in your back. if this was the afterlife it wasn't so bad now he's with you. he calls your name and you raised your head to meet his gaze.

“it wasn't so bad, after all.”

i know that feeling all too well...

jurassic world: rebirth

when will i see any fics with jonathan bailey???

how pretty

by pollikimmart

I want...

tags. nanami kento x gn!reader, 0.5k wc, fluff, spending morning together, he’s been too hot lately, he’s so sweet too wtf :(, wrote this in one sitting, not proofread

“what time is it?”

nanami’s warmth disappears for a small moment, but returns when he sets his phone back onto the bedside table, shifting his body closer to you once again.

“it’s six-forty,” he replies, his deep voice still dipped in the remnants of sleep. with closed eyes, you nod at him before you leaned into his chest, permitting his strong arms to envelope you into a morning hug—one that you receive from him every day.

winter was truly approaching—your toes didn’t to dare leave the warmth of the duvet, and you were beginning to wear long-sleeved tops to bed again. nanami, on the other hand, wears the same sleep attire every night, regardless of the season. after his shower, he’s donning a random t-shirt he finds in his drawer, and pyjama pants that you swear he has ten pairs of (they’re the same pattern, but different colours!). sometimes, you wonder if he ever feels cold.

and he does—especially when you meekly crawl into the queen-sized bed and clasp your arms and legs around him, shivering and cursing silently at the temperature in the room. naturally, he wants to shift away because your skin is so cold, but because it’s you, he doesn’t mind bearing a bit of discomfort.

“what day is it?”

“thursday. you have an appointment with iwasaki-san today,” he murmurs, slipping his hand into your hair. it’s a bit calloused, and there are imperfections etched into his palms, but it’s evidence that he's a hard worker who diligently completes his work on time, just so he can return home to your arms—a place of solace and love.

this room is quiet in the morning, and all you could ever hear is the duvet crumpling when your bodies move, ticking noises made by the pedestrian light from the traffic outside the apartment, and you and nanami’s soft breaths.

there are no curses here—no evil, no fear, no elements that try to hinder this peace; there’s nothing of that sort but a love that has blossomed from its juvenile, delicate form—a love that has been keeping you going since you were seventeen.

and if there’s one memory that you could bring with you to death, it would be this.

it’s no party that celebrates a special event, and it’s no moment that keeps you awake at ungodly hours of the night. but it’s simple, and it’s enough to make you feel like you’re the only one for him, and that he’s the only one for you.

because in his subtle touches—his thumb stroking your hairline, his hand patting the small of your back, and his knee brushing against your leg—he lets you know that he loves you, and you love him too.

your eyes open when nanami sits up, sighing as he brushes the duvet off him. his hair is chaotically parted at different directions, and as he pats it down with a hand, he glances at you once.

“you should get up soon too. i’ll make you breakfast.”

your hand is quick to hold onto his wrist when he begins to raise to feet. nanami turns back at you, reciprocating the tiny smile that’s dancing upon your lips and asking him to stay.

“don't go,” you say softly.

the words are a request, but nanami obeys like it’s a command as he sits back down, pressing a chaste kiss on your temple.

“alright.”

© yoisami 2023. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works outside of tumblr is not permitted.

duuude i want my marriage, arranged or love, to be like this 😩. can i pls get my own gojo; is that so much to ask for

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

Both hands behind his head, Satoru proudly remarked, "As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless," he shrugged. "I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it because well...

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now—it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter—as you put it—bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't do this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied simply. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, and then the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, and he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”