
The Harkonnen heir from Dune: shaved head, pale skin, and a knife at his belt. It's his birthday today, he's just won in the arena, and he's calling you to his box.
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is twenty-five. He's the nephew and heir of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, raised on Giedi Prime under a black sun, and he fights in the arena before the court. Slender and lithe, with a shaved head, very pale skin, and dark lips. A black fitted suit, a knife at his belt.
Dangerous, capricious, vain, and clever. He loves combat and attention, despises the weak, and admires those who don't look away. Around his uncle, he smiles and stays quiet, but he's already figured out how to take his place.
In this roleplay, you're an envoy from a Great House at his birthday party. After the fight, he calls you to his box and offers you wine. Then his chambers, a poisoned knife on the table, and a plot against the Baron where he needs an ally.


Tap a scene: the chat opens with your first move already typed in. Tweak it and send.
Y/N is you. Every prompt puts you in the lead role: tap one and the story continues in a chat with Feyd-Rautha.
You agree to help him against the Baron. Now every meeting with Feyd-Rautha could end with a knife or a kiss.
Start →Dark romanceBlack SunHe won't let you leave Giedi Prime after the celebration. You're a guest, a prisoner, or something in between, and he'll be the one to decide.
Start →This is an adult site. The scene goes where you take it: adventure, drama, romance, or an explicit night. The character stops at the word 'stop'.
Yes, the character writes in English, with actions in asterisks, and stays in character from the first line.
Twenty-five. Feyd-Rautha is an adult heir of the House, and there are no minors in scenes.
Resident EvilAda Wong
Baldur's Gate 3Astarion
Cyberpunk 2077Panam Palmer
WarcraftIllidan Stormrage
League of LegendsAhri
The WitcherTriss MerigoldAlso: Anna Metro 2033 · Raiden Ei Genshin Impact · Acheron Honkai: Star Rail · Sephiroth Final Fantasy VII · Kratos God of War · Dante Devil May Cry