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embermdk · 4 hours ago

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Asks are open you say? Well how about a dynamic flip? Feyd is the proud warrior but is unexpectedly bartered away in a deal his brother makes to humiliate him. Surprised and furious he fully intends to conquer his new "brides" family and kingdom only for them to recognize his strength and be met with the satisfying challenge of warrior/ farming planet.

So, I kinda went in a different direction with this, but I hope you still enjoy it, Anon!!

Imagine | A Match (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd is given in marriage to a wealthy House in order to gain an alliance. His new bride is not what he expected.

Word Count: 1,737

Warnings: arranged marriage, attempted choking/stabbing, non-sexual nudity (reader), Powerful! Reader.

"What?" Feyd's voice is barely concealing his rage as he stares down his uncle and smug brother.

"It was necessary, my darling," the Baron's voice is rough, his tone placating. "We need this alliance more than you know."

Feyd finds his teeth clenching, hands forming fists at his sides. "Why not Rabban?"

"You know why," the Baron glares. "They would not accept Rabban as a suitable match. You are to go and wed their daughter. And in return they give us whatever we ask."

Feyd growls, "I outta slit your throat, uncle."

The Baron laughs, "This is for your benefit as much as it is mine, dear nephew. Now go."

Feyd storms out of the room, a hurricane of rage sweeping through the halls. He has never felt an anger this severe in quite some time. He should have known something like this would happen eventually. And, knowing his uncle, there is another scheme at play.

Always plans within plans within plans.

It's not the worst situation, he muses later when he has calmed and steadied his mind.

House Wallach would be a formidable ally, an asset that shouldn't be taken lightly. With control over three planets and being the largest horticultural power in the Landsraad, they are powerful indeed.

The leaders of House Wallach has birthed only a daughter, which leaves them without a male heir. All manner of eligible men have tried their hand at a marriage to their daughter. None has been successful.

Until now, apparently.

A feral grin spreads across Feyd's face as he thinks of the possibilities.

He will have no issue wedding the daughter and taking control of House Wallach when the time is right.

And, perhaps if he plays his cards right, take control of House Harkonnen as well.

He cares not who he has to marry, even if he'll be mad about it for awhile. After all, he can dispose of her eventually.

~~~

Feyd arrives with much fanfare, as befitting the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Bright sunshine surrounds those gathered to greet him, people who are swamped in bright greens, yellows, and browns. All around the envoy are orchards of all kinds of fruit trees. A vibrant sea of green.

So much more colour than Feyd is used to.

His expression remains neutral as he greats the Lord and Lady of the House. They appear cautious of him, perhaps overly so. It seems they know House Harkonnen’s reputation.

"It is an honour to be here," he says, bowing slightly. The lie slides easily off his tongue.

"We are pleased to have you in our home, na-Baron." The Lord says, returning the bow. "Our daughter is so pleased that you accepted the match."

Feyd's lips quirk up. Surely he's lying, no noble lady would hold any desire for a creature like him.

"As I said, it's an honour."

His gaze sweeps around, searching for his wife-to-be. All he finds is diplomats and soldiers.

"Where is Lady Wallach?" He asks, unimpressed at her absence.

"Forgive us, your arrival coincided with an event she could not miss," the Lord replies. "She is attending a Munus Ceremony."

This catches Feyd's attention, "A fight?"

"Yes, if you come this way, we may still witness part of it."

Feyd follows Lord Wallach, silently fuming.

His betrothed is watching other men fight to the death instead of welcoming him? His outrage is unparalleled, yet he remains collected.

They lead him up to the viewing tower of an outdoor coliseum, with vines growing on every available surface.

The viewing box is empty.

"There my lord."

Feyd's attention is brought down to a figure in the ring who brandishes a dagger with a graceful air.

"Our daughter,” Lord Wallach smiles, the action appearing forced.

He hadn't expected this.

Feyd was picturing a regal noble lady, demure and pitiful. He had not once pictured this creature before him, fluid in her movements as she battles her opponent.

She blocks attacks with ease and avoids ones that would cause serious damage all while attacking just as fiercely. Her opponent is skilled, to be sure, but is no match for the ruthlessness of her attacks.

He falls to the ground, unmoving. Feyd’s bride-to-be lifts her arms in victory, grinning as blood drips down her blade.

“We honour!” She shouts, and the crowd responds with deafening cheers.

“We know she is not exactly… How can I put it? Traditional, let’s say.” Her mother frets, “But she will be a good wife, na-Baron.”

He barely hears her, eyes transfixed on the beauty in the arena as she battles another opponent. Yes, this is an interesting turn of events indeed.

“Of course she will,” Feyd replies. “I must meet her.”

He watches as she disappears into the building, no doubt going to change and bathe after her match.

“Certainly. She’ll be out to give you a tour in no time. Meanwhile, a guard can show you to your room.”

Displeased, Feyd nods and obediently follows the man to his room. As soon as he’s alone, Feyd opens the door and stalks out with determination.

He cannot wait.

There is surprisingly little security surrounding your change room, Feyd notes as he quietly opens the door.

Your piercing gaze meets him immediately. Instead of being frightened, like he had anticipated, you smile warmly.

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, I was not expecting you here. I’m afraid you have caught me unprepared to greet you properly,” you say calmly as you continue to unbutton your fighting tunic.

He doesn’t know what to make of your reaction. You’re not put off by his presence at all.

“I couldn’t wait,” he replies honestly.

You hum, “Excited to see me, na-Baron?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

The sound of your laughter is unexpected, “Of course not. I doubt I was what you were anticipating.”

His gaze lingers as you remove your clothes and retrieve a washcloth and bucket.

“Don’t you have servants?” He finds himself asking, motioning to the washcloth.

“I prefer to do it myself.”

He frowns, “You don’t seem very noble.”

“I assure you, Wallach blood flows deep in my veins,” your voice has taken an edge.

It seems he’s struck a nerve.

“I meant no insult, my lady,” his grin says otherwise, his voice rough and teasing. “It just appears you have odd taste. Fighting and doing the work servants should be doing.”

You return his even gaze, “I am not some snivelling noble who cannot take care of herself. Feyd, it seems you do not remember me.”

Your last statement has him pausing.

“What did you say?”

Lathering suds onto your bloodied skin, you barely spare him a glance.

“I said you don’t remember me. We met once, you know.”

He does not remember such a thing.

“Don’t toy with me,” he snarls. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you roll your eyes. “Feydie, I can’t say I’m not hurt you don’t recall.”

Your bastardization of his name brings a memory to the front of his mind.

A young girl bearing the Wallach crest getting angry with him over something and punching him clear across the face. He naturally returned the blow and they broke out into a fight right then and there.

He’s shocked he forgot it.

You watch as recognition filters through his eyes. Smiling, you rinse the suds off your body.

“Now you remember. To be honest, I don’t know why I was so angry with you.”

“You’ve always been a fighter,” he acknowledges with an inclination of his head.

“And I knew you could not be satisfied with a weak wife.”

He’s coming to realize this match may not have been a scheme of just his uncle.

“You wanted this match,” he phrases it as a statement as if he already knows the answer.

You smirk, “Does it not please you?”

“What makes you think I would want you as a wife?” He sneers, crossing his arms.

“I know you planned on controlling me, or killing me - whichever suited your needs best. You want power, Feyd. I can give you that and so much more. Is it too much to ask for you in return?”

He cannot find words, mulling over your proposal as his eyes study your every move.

You’ve certainly grown from that little girl who could barely throw a proper punch yet had the rage to carry through a fight.

Feyd observes as you dry yourself off. He leans over before you can, and grabs your fresh shirt from the table.

“Allow me, my lady.”

Surprised, you nod and present your back to him. A foolish mistake, to turn your back on a potential threat. He contemplates disposing of you right now, but finds himself frowning at the idea.

You’re so much more interesting than he first imagined.

Despite himself, he wants to know you better, to find out when you had your first gladiatorial fight or when you realized you could be so much more than wedding fodder for your parents to make a match with.

“So many suitors have tried to win your hand,” Feyd rasps as he guides your arms through the sleeves of your shirt. “Yet you denied them all.”

“None were you, my lord.”

“Why chose me?” He leans into you, pressing his chest to your back as he slowly starts buttoning your shirt.

You lean back into him, “You are a fighter, a warrior. You can wield blades and talk politics. And I know you can treat me right.”

“Why would I treat you any different than a common whore?” He suddenly presses his arm against your throat, cutting off your oxygen.

He looks at your expression, surprised to find a wide grin. A flash of pain goes through his side. Your eyes flicker downwards and Feyd looks down to find the tip of a blade piercing his skin.

He releases his hold.

“You will treat me differently, Feyd. And do you know why?”

You turn to face him, placing your hand on his bleeding wound.

“Because I will make you.”

Feyd cannot stop the smile forming on his plush lips as you bring your hand to his cheek.

He doesn’t say anything as you continue place a kiss to his lips before shoving him away.

“We must ready ourselves for the dinner tonight, there is much to discuss about the wedding.”

“Of course, my lady.”

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embermdk · 4 hours ago

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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed.

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before.

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother.

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious.

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.”

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger.

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early.

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast.

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free.

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie.

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home.

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar.

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals.

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries.

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed.

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience.

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you.

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress.

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind.

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand.

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you.

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.”

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling.

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you.

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door.

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead.

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you.

“As they have been taught, your reverence.”

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years.

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down.

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.”

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection.

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you.

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful.

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before.

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door.

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you.

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face.

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you.

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?”

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one.

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down.

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting.

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat.

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction.

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight.

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep.

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.”

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head.

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.”

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room.

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen.

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful. “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime.

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different?

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different.

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew.

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with.

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing.

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap.

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively.

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face.

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke.

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.”

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for.

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly.

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul.

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted.

“Soon.”

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up.

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation.

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly.

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent.

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better.

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right.

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach.

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence.

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive.

But god, you wanted to live.

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer.

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front.

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression.

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view.

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability.

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd.

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime.

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago.

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you.

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?”

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes.

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side.

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements.

The two of you were communicating.

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?”

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you.

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days.

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child.

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him. He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress.

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in.

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother.

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it.

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of.

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves.

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position.

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you.

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin.

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this.

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime.

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge.

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?”

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter.

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing.

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.”

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame.

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir.

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.”

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough.

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?”

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before.

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed.

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain.

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover.

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer.

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying.

Animal, indeed.

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

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embermdk · 6 hours ago

Text

a little love (caitvi x little!reader)

chapter 2

summary: your first night with caitlyn & vi doesn't exactly go to plan.

cw: panic attack, anxiety, 18+

Series masterlist

“Okay, I found somewhere you can stay for a while, sweetie,” Vander says, putting his phone back into his pocket, and sitting down in the chair across from you. “Have you ever met Vi and Caitlyn before?”

You look up at him with wide eyes. Miss Caitlyn is one of the most notorious dommes of the club, and you’ve heard people talk about how strict she is when playing with her subs. You’re going to be staying with her? You gulp, your heart starting to race again. You’re not sure this is going to work out.

You’ve also seen Vi around the Littles area a couple of times, but you don’t know her very well. Suddenly staying with them sounds almost as scary as just toughing it out on the street.

You give Vander a timid nod to indicate you know who he’s talking about.

His friendly brown eyes crinkle in a warm smile. “It’s okay, hon. They’re both nice, I promise.”

Not from what you’ve heard. But you’re too nervous to say anything, and besides, it’s not like you have any other options anyway, unless you want to spend the night in the rain on a park bench.

Vander lets you stay in his warm office with the stuffie while you nervously wait for the women to arrive. You let your mind drift toward littlespace, as you often do when you’re nervous, although you’re not comfortable enough to go fully little here. You can feel it pulling at you though, you hope there will be a safe time for you to regress soon.

Soon, there’s a clicking of heels in the hallway, and you swallow down another wave of nerves. You stand, ducking your head down and keeping your eyes glued to the floor.

“Little one, this is Caitlyn and Vi,” Vander says, and you watch a pair of shiny black heels and a pair of scuffed Doc Martens enter the room. You’re too scared to look the women in the eyes, and besides, you’re not sure of what kind of protocol you’re supposed to follow around someone like Miss Caitlyn. “Vi, Cait, this is Y/N.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” says a surprisingly warm and gentle voice. “I’m Vi and this is my wife. You’re going to be staying with us for a little while, if you’d like to.”

You chance a glance up and you’re met with a pair of kind, powder-blue eyes. Vi has magenta pink hair that’s cut in an undercut on one side, the other side framing her face with long bangs. She’s got big, defined muscles that you can see peeking out from her black tank top, but her face is gentle and friendly.

Gaining a little confidence, you look up at the taller woman next to her. Caitlyn has sharp, striking blue eyes and navy hair that brushes past her shoulders. She’s dressed neatly in a dark turtleneck and jeans, with heels and an expensive-looking purse on her arm. She’s looking at you with a curious expression, not harsh exactly, but a little wary.

Both women are also stunningly beautiful, and you feel your nerves pick up again. What must they think of you? Kicked out of her house, with nowhere to go and holding a stuffed dinosaur? You quickly put the stuffie down on the sofa, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Vi frowns at you. “You can keep your plushie if you want, honey.”

“It’s not mine,” you mumble quietly, looking at the floor again. Vander had just grabbed it for you from the littles room, since you were so upset.

Suddenly, Vi crouches down in front of you, and she gently tips your head up to meet her eyes with a soft hand on your chin.

“Hey, you don’t have to be scared, little one. I promise Caitlyn and I are happy to have you stay with us. Is that what you want too?” Vi asks, and her tone is soft, like the other caregivers at the club usually use with you. It helps calm some of your nerves.

You look at her kind eyes, and after a moment of hesitation, give a small nod.

“Okay, great,” Vi smiles, straightening up. “Where are your things?”

“I don’t have anything,” you say, feeling tears prickle the corner of your eyes again. You grab your purse off the couch. “Just this.”

You notice a frown crease Caitlyn’s face, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Oh, okay, that’s fine,” Vi says, taking your bag from you. “We’ll figure out how to get your things later, alright? Let’s just get you home for now, you need some dry clothes and a hot shower, looks like.”

You nod again, and follow her and Caitlyn down the hall. You just hope that everything will work out.

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You’re mostly quiet on the car ride to Vi and Caitlyn’s house, and Vi talks to you a little about the neighborhood and how long they’ve been living there. Your eyes widen when Caitlyn pulls the car into a large driveway in front of a huge, two-story craftsman home. It’s a beautiful house, with a neatly kept front lawn and a large porch out front with a pair of rocking chairs.

You follow both women inside through the garage, and you see that the house is even more beautiful on the inside. There are hardwood floors throughout, and multiple large windows look out over a big backyard. Everything is neat and clean, and you immediately feel bad about your muddy shoes and your damp clothes.

After taking off your shoes and coat, the women lead you upstairs to a large guestroom, explaining that this will be your room. It has a huge queen size bed with a fluffy duvet, a dresser, a walk in closet, and an attached bathroom. It’s at least three times larger than your room at your previous apartment, and you can’t believe this is where you’ll be staying. You’ve never stayed somewhere this nice, ever.

“Will this be suitable for you?” Caitlyn asks, and you stiffen a little at the sound of her voice. She’s barely spoken two words to you since you met.

“Yes ma’am,” you say, looking down at the floor.

“Oh, you don’t need to call me that,” Caitlyn says, her voice softening. “You can call me Caitlyn or even Cait if you want, okay?”

You swallow nervously. “Okay.”

“And you can call me Vi, or some of the littles at the club like to call me Bubba, that’s okay too,” Vi says, smiling at you. “Do you know why they call me Bubba?”

You shake your head curiously.

“Cause my hair looks like bubblegum!” Vi grins, gesturing at her pink hair.

You giggle a little, clapping a hand to your mouth to quiet it. “It kinda does.”

“It’s good to see you smile, sweetie,” Vi says, and she steps forward into the room to lead you into the bathroom. “Why don’t you go ahead and warm up with a shower, and we’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you, okay? They’re probably going to be a little big, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you say, looking at the huge marble shower. You’re freezing and the idea of a hot shower sounds heavenly.

“Okay, good, just call out if you need anything,” Vi says, and she and Caitlyn leave the room.

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You feel much better after a long, steaming shower. You slip into the clean t-shirt and sweatpants that had been left on the bed for you. Both are too big for you, you have to tie the drawstring on the pants extra tight to keep them up, and the t-shirt keeps slipping off one shoulder. But you’re grateful not to be in your wet clothes anymore, and the t-shirt smells faintly of vanilla and sandalwood, the same scent you’d noticed on Vi. The idea of wearing her clothes makes something happy bubble in your chest.

After combing your fingers through your hair to detangle it a bit, you timidly head out of the room and back downstairs. You’re not exactly sure what you should do now, but figure Caitlyn and Vi might find it rude if you just hole up in the guestroom.

Padding into the large kitchen, you find Vi sitting on a bar stool at the marble island while Caitlyn chops up some fruit.

“How was your shower?” Vi asks, perking up when you enter the room. She pulls out the stool next to her and pats it. “Come sit.”

“It was great, thank you,” you say quietly, obediently sitting down next to Vi.

Your heart is beating fast with nerves, and you twist your fingers in your lap. You’ve been dealing with bad anxiety for years, and being in a new situation with unfamiliar people definitely isn’t helping you stay calm.

Then you suddenly remember that you don’t have any of your medications, all of them still being at the apartment. Shoot. You aren’t supposed to skip any days on those, and no doubt you’ll be a mess without them. But the idea of facing your horrible former roommates sounds even worse than just toughing it out without your meds. You know you’ll have to go back eventually, but you can’t bear the thought of it right now.

“Is something wrong?” Caitlyn asks, setting down the knife and studying you with her piercing blue eyes.

“No, Miss Caitlyn,” you shake your head, fixing your eyes on the kitchen counter.

“Sweetie, I already said you don’t need to call me that,” Caitlyn scolds, her tone infused with a hint of firmness.

“She’s probably just used to people addressing you that way in the club,” Vi says, her voice gentle. “Is it easier for you to call her Miss Caitlyn?” she asks you curiously.

You nod silently, too shy to speak.

“Alright, then that’s fine for now,” Caitlyn says softly. She pours the strawberries and pineapple she’s been cutting up into a bowl and hands it to you. “Here’s a snack, love. Can you come sit on the couch with us? We have some things to discuss.”

Your heart pounds as you nervously follow the two taller women to the plush couch in the living area. You’re too anxious to eat, so you just hold the bowl of fruit in your lap, wishing you had a plushie to cuddle instead.

Caitlyn turns to face you with her hands folded neatly in her lap. “As you probably know, Y/N, I am a domme and Vi is a switch. We aren’t expecting you to be our sub, but while you are here and under our care, we will have some rules that we will expect you to follow. Is it alright with you if we discuss them?”

Although you’re nervous to stay with these two intimidating women, there is a part of you that feels comforted at the prospect of rules. Your little side craves rules, they give you a feeling of being safe and knowing what the boundaries are, you’ve just never had a caregiver or dom to give you any before. You hope that you can follow them and not mess up. You’d hate to disappoint Vi, or especially Caitlyn.

You nod shyly to indicate you’re ready to hear the rules.

Vi speaks up. “First, we ask you to respect our home and this space. We sometimes have subs over to play with us, and we expect your discretion and understanding, okay? And if our door is locked, it means we’re having private time and we’re not to be disturbed.”

You blush a little, but nod. You wouldn’t even think of bothering them if their door was closed anyway.

“Second rule,” Caitlyn says, holding up two fingers. “Since we are responsible for you while you’re here, we ask that you let either myself or Vi know when you are going out, where you’re going, and when you’ll return. We just want to make sure you’re safe.”

That’s easy enough to follow, since you work from home and you barely ever leave the house.

“Last rule, we expect honesty,” Vi says. “If you’re uncomfortable or there’s something you need, we expect you to tell us, okay?”

You feel a little nervous about that, because you’re not used to voicing your needs like that. You certainly wouldn’t want to cause them any trouble. But you nod, and Caitlyn and Vi look satisfied.

“Have you ever experienced a punishment before?” Caitlyn asks gently, and you shake your head.

“Okay, little one. We need to have a safe punishment for you, so that we can ensure you’re following the rules, but it doesn’t need to be anything harsh. Will you be alright with your punishment being doing lines if you disobey our rules?” Caitlyn holds your gaze, and butterflies flutter in your stomach at the thought of being punished by her.

“Yes, Miss Caitlyn,” you say.

“Alright. Those are all the rules for now, but we can always revisit them. Do you have any boundaries you would like to set with us?”

You look down at your lap, trying to think. There’s not much you need, and you already trust Vi and Caitlyn more than your former roommates.

“Um, I don’t like yelling?” you murmur, picking at one of your cuticles. “So please no yelling at me?”

“We will never, ever yell at you, sweetheart,” Vi says softly, putting a warm hand on yours, and you immediately feel safe under her touch.

“Would you like to go back to your old apartment so you can get your things?” Caitlyn asks. “Vi and I can help you.”

You feel panic start clawing your insides at the thought of facing your roommates' sneering faces again, and you shake your head quickly. “No, not yet.”

Vi and Caitlyn frown at you but don’t push the subject, thankfully.

Suddenly you feel very overwhelmed. Your big brain is completely exhausted, and all you want to do is be little and forget about everything else. “May I go to my room?” you ask.

“Of course. This house is your home now, and you can go wherever you want except our bedroom, alright?” Caitlyn says.

“Thank you,” you murmur, standing and hoping they don’t notice the tears in your eyes. You’re not sure exactly why you’re so upset all of a sudden, but you just know you need to be alone, as panic twists in your stomach. You won’t be able to hold it together much longer.

They let you go, and you quickly hurry back upstairs to the guest room, shutting the door quietly behind yourself. You fall onto the bed and curl up into a ball, hugging your knees to your chest, silent tears coursing down your cheeks. Faintly, you realize you need your anxiety medications, but you’re far too upset to even think about how to get them. Instead you curl up further, squeezing your eyes shut, and whimpering quietly. You just need a moment, and then you can get it together.

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“Do you think I should go check on her?” Vi chews on her bottom lip, putting her hands on her hips. “She’s been in there for hours.”

She’s standing next to the bed in their bedroom, having just changed into her pajamas. Caitlyn is reading in bed, tucked under the covers and propped up against the headboard with a few pillows. Neither of them have seen you since you went over the rules together. You disappeared into your room and haven’t come out for the rest of the evening. It’s getting late now, but Vi can’t sleep without knowing you’re okay.

“She’s probably just fallen asleep already, darling,” Caitlyn says, sighing and putting down her book. “But if you’re worried, I suppose it couldn’t hurt to check.”

“I’ll just make sure she doesn’t need anything,” Vi decides with a small nod. “Be right back.”

Caitlyn just nods, returning to her book.

Vi makes her way out of the room and down the hall to the guest bedroom you’re in, knocking softly on the door.

“Hey sweetie, just wanted to check in if you needed anything before we went to bed,” she calls through the closed door. “You okay?”

She frowns when she doesn’t hear anything, and she knocks again, a little louder this time. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

When there’s no answer again, her heart starts to race and she turns the doorknob, pushing the door open slowly. “Honey? I’m coming in, okay?”

The room is dark, lit only by the silvery moonlight filtering in through the window, so she doesn’t see you at first. When she flips on the light though, she immediately spots you curled up in the middle of the bed, and she races over.

“Hey, hey, what happened? Are you hurt?” Vi is at your side in an instant, sweeping your hair out of your face so that she can get a look at you.

You know you must look terrible. You haven’t moved from the bed since you first curled up here hours ago. You’ve been shaking with silent sobs and waves of panic, unable to do anything but cry and wait for the attack to pass.

“I’m s-sorry,” you hiccup, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears flood out. “I’m o-okay, you can go.”

“You are not okay, sweetheart,” Vi says gruffly, and the next thing you know, you’re being swept up into a pair of strong arms and cradled against Vi’s chest. She sits on the bed with you in her lap, letting you bury your face in the soft cotton of her t-shirt, another wave of fresh sobs choking out of you. You try to swallow them down so they’re silent, but a couple escape anyway, and Vi starts rubbing even, smooth circles on your back.

“Shh, shh, just breathe, sweet girl,” Vi murmurs, pulling you closer, her arms wrapping you in warmth. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

You can’t stop crying, and your mind is racing with confusing, disjointed thoughts. You don’t know how to calm down without your medication, and it’s been a long time since you’ve had a panic attack this bad. You also feel guilty that Vi is having to deal with you like this, and that guilt just makes you feel even more out of control and anxious.

“What’s going on? What happened?” You suddenly hear Caitlyn’s voice in the room, sharp and urgent, but you don’t look up from where you’ve got your face buried in Vi’s shirt.

“I don’t know, I just found her like this,” Vi says, and you can hear the fear in her voice, which only makes you feel more guilty. More sobs wrack your body, and you cry harder.

You can feel the bed shift as Caitlyn sits down next to where Vi’s holding you, and next thing you know there’s a firm hand gripping your chin, forcing your face away from Vi’s chest so that your eyes meet Caitlyn’s.

Her sapphire eyes are piercing and commanding, and she looks at you steadily.

“Darling. Look at me,” she orders, her voice soft but leaving no room for disagreement. “Just at me, nothing else, alright?”

You keep your eyes fixed on hers, almost in a trance. She reaches for your hand and puts it on her sternum, just above the swell of her breasts, and you blush a little. “Take a breath in at the same time as me,” Caitlyn commands, holding your gaze.

Then she takes an exaggerated breath in, and you feel her chest move under your hand. You hiccup with a sob and then take a shaky breath in too, not deep, but better than the gasping breaths you’ve been taking.

“Good girl,” Caitlyn affirms, still holding your hand to her chest and looking you steadily in the eyes. “Another with me, darling.” She takes another breath in and you follow.

You continue the pattern for several more breaths, Caitlyn praising you each time you follow her, while Vi rubs soft circles on your back. It takes a couple of minutes but eventually your tears slow and your thoughts stop racing. You take a shuddering breath in and let it out more slowly, finally feeling like the vice on your chest has loosened somewhat, although there’s still anxiety clawing at your stomach. You sniffle and wipe at your wet face tiredly.

You’re utterly exhausted and deeply embarrassed that Vi and Caitlyn had to see you like this. Why couldn’t you just handle it yourself? You’re already causing so much trouble for them and you just got here.

It seems Caitlyn can sense you getting lost in your thoughts, because suddenly she grips your chin again, forcing your eyes back on hers.

“Love. Stay right here with me. You’re alright, I promise,” Caitlyn says, and the firm, unyielding tone of her voice soothes you. You desperately need an anchor right now, and Caitlyn is just that.

“Have you had a panic attack before, honey?” Vi asks softly from where she’s sat next to you, tucking some hair behind your ear. Her light blue eyes are tender as she studies you with a small frown.

“I get them sometimes,” you murmur, looking down at your lap with hot cheeks. “I’m sorry. They’re not usually that bad.”

“Do you take medication for your anxiety?” Caitlyn asks.

You nod. “I don’t have it. It’s at the apartment.”

“Darling, that is something you should have told us,” Caitlyn chastises, but her voice is gentle. “You should have let us go pick up your things.”

“I don’t want to see my roommates,” you say, and the simmering anxiety starts to rise in your chest again, making your breath tight. “I c-can’t.”

“Shh, shh, breathe, sweetie,” Vi soothes, brushing a hand over your hair. “It’s okay.”

“We’re going to go pick up your things now, including your medication,” Caitlyn decides, standing up with a firm look on her face.

Your eyes widen. “But…we can’t! It’s almost midnight, and my roommates –”

“You won’t need to face them, darling,” Caitlyn says, her eyes softening. “But I won’t have you staying here without medication you need, so Vi and I can go inside and get it for you while you wait in the car. We can handle your roommates just fine.”

“But –” you start to protest, but Caitlyn holds up a hand and gives you a sharp look.

“Love, I’m sorry but you are not well enough to be making decisions right now. I am in charge, and that’s what I’ve decided. Do not argue with me, little one.”

Caitlyn’s voice is more commanding than you’ve ever heard it, and it sends a shiver down your spine. And yet it’s oddly comforting to hear her say that she’s in charge. It’s what you’ve always wanted, for someone else to be in charge for once, for you to not have to make all the hard decisions. You can feel your little side rise to the surface.

“Okay, Miss Caitlyn,” you reply, your voice small and soft.

“Good girl,” Caitlyn nods approvingly, and Vi stands up as well.

“We’ll just go get changed and then we’ll go to your apartment,” Vi says, giving you a comforting smile. “Would you like to borrow a warm sweatshirt for the car, honey?”

“Yes please,” you murmur, and both Caitlyn and Vi give you fond looks at your now-childish voice.

“Alright wait here, sweet girl, we’ll be right back,” Vi promises, and you nod, watching them leave the room.

You realize you don’t feel as scared anymore. Vi and Caitlyn are making you feel safer than you ever have before, and suddenly you never want to leave.

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