#i will have my father's bald spot.

[averagesawfan]

Car seat Headrest lyrics that remind me of House M.D - Part 2

"And I am torn between me trying to be a better man/ And trying to accept the man I am" -Kimochi Warui

>>> More under the cut

"What happened to that chubby little kid who smiled so much and loved the Beach Boys?" - Destroyed by Hippie Powers

"Last Friday, I took acid and mushrooms/ I did not transcend/ I felt like a walking piece of shit/ In a stupid looking jacket" - Drugs with Friends

"And God won’t forgive me/ And you won’t forgive me/ Not unless I open up my heart/ And how am I supposed to do that" -The Ballad of the Costa Concordia

"Volcanic rock can be dated reliably/ Genotypes, phenotypes/ And I will have my father's bald spot" - Father, flesh in rags

PART 1 HERE!!

[frecklystars]

this man's sleeves are about to pop open and tear right off. he flexes and his shirt just fucking explodes

[sansaorgana]

— STILL WATERS RUN DEEP

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

SUMMARY — He's a psychotic killing machine and you're a shy and innocent lady. You have nothing in common except for the fact your bloodlines have been manipulated for centuries to create a match. And you seem to be destined to be together.

REQUEST — (1) // (2) // (3)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I don't write children!Readers unless it's for the retrospections and memories. That's why I combined all these requests into one fic. Some parts of the requests didn't make it but I felt like it was already getting long 🙈 I included the trope of Feyd and Reader being destined to be together – some sort of Soulmates AU, I guess? ✨

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, spiders, mentions of Baron Harkonnen abusing Feyd, SMUT, fingering, oral, hints of innocence kink, The Harpies being a bit non-consensual

WORD COUNT — 7,500

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

STILL WATERS RUN DEEP

Giedi Prime was surely a scary and intimidating place for a twelve years old girl. The lack of colour and friendly faces made you shiver and anxiously cling to your father’s hand. You couldn’t understand why he had insisted on you accompanying him on this official state visit for the meeting with Baron Harkonnen. He would never want to take you with him to much more pleasant places. You were too young to understand the hidden agenda, the Bene Gesserit scheming – whose plans had been destroyed by Lady Jessica giving birth to a son instead of a daughter. They needed a new match for the young na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, The Baron’s nephew. After years of searching and studying many possibilities, they had decided to create a union between your House and The Harkonnens. Your father was more than happy – it was an honour to bond with such a powerful family. You were from one of the planets of a lesser importance. That was the reason for The Baron’s distrust towards the plan. He would rather see his nephew marrying a great lady, perhaps even an Imperial Princess.

While he talked to your father, you were left alone with no one but one guard in an empty room. You were sitting on a black couch and looking with awe at the portraits on the walls. All men looked the same on them – big, bald, hairless and scary. They fascinated you as much as they intimidated you.

After a while, the doors leading to the corridor opened and you startled at the sight of a boy more-less your age entering confidently with a contemptuous look upon his face. He looked like all The Harkonnens – sickly and scary. He was wearing clothes you had only seen on gladiators and warriors before but it looked disturbing on a body so skinny and small, even though he was tall for his age. There was a splash of blood upon his face and it made you gasp and take a step back. He smirked at you.

“So, that’s you? Disappointing,” he commented harshly as you swallowed thickly.

“What are you talking about? Who are you?” You looked nervously at the guard but he remained stoic.

“I’m Feyd,” he introduced himself. “My training has been interrupted and I’ve been told to meet you for whatever reason. Haven’t expected such a scared, little bunny,” he sneered and you spotted his teeth were black. They didn’t look rotten, though.

“What happened to your teeth?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“My Uncle made the medics paint them black to intimidate my enemies,” he answered, proudly.

“What kind of enemies might a twelve year old have?” You asked, surprised.

You had no enemies. Your life was of a typical spoiled young lady – full of mother’s kisses, father’s embraces, candies, ponies and maids braiding your hair in the evening while telling you tales of handsome and brave prince charmings. You couldn't imagine that it was different for other people.

“You’re stupid,” Feyd pointed out and you shut your mouth, feeling hurt at his words as tears pricked your eyes. He approached you and you took a step back, scared of him. “Don’t cry,” he tilted his head at the sight of your wet eyes. “Has no one ever told you that you were stupid?” Now it was his time to be surprised and you shook your head. “Do you want to see something?” He proposed as his eyes sparkled.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, genuinely.

“I will protect you,” he offered his pale hand and you looked at it with fear in your eyes.

“I am scared of you,” you raised your eyes to lay them on his face again while you explained.

“Good,” he nodded with a chuckle. “But I’d get in trouble if something happened to you. You are the daughter of my uncle’s guest. Come,” he encouraged.

Your status gave you courage as your curiosity only fueled your desire to actually follow him. Just like the portraits on these walls – he was as intimidating as fascinating to you. Perhaps because you had never before met such a boy.

You took his cold hand and a shiver went down your spine. For a short while, you thought you would faint as an odd feeling filled your small body. A familiar warmth that you only felt when you were back home, in your bed, feeling safe and sound with the nanny or your mother caressing your head to help you sleep. Like he was home. But he couldn’t be. You had never met him and he was scary. 

“Have you felt that, too?” You gasped.

“No,” Feyd lied. “Come,” he dragged you behind him and the guard opened the doors in front of you.

Feyd took you down the corridor and led you downstairs to some sort of dungeons beneath the fortress. You were starting to have a bad feeling about it but something deep inside you made you trust that odd boy. Without understanding it yet, you were starting to realise he was the one who had been meant for you from the day you were born. There was some connection between your bloodlines that was drawing you towards each other.

You found yourself in an old, dark and damp room. It smelt of something rotten and it was full of spiderwebs.

“What is this place? It’s disgusting,” you pointed out as you winced. Feyd let go of your hand and sneered at you.

“Life is unpleasant. The sooner you learn that, the better,” he pointed out and suddenly, he reached for a short knife by his waist you had not noticed before. You yelped at the sight, convinced he had only dragged you there to kill you.

“Don’t be silly, I won’t hurt you,” he rolled his eyes and you nodded, unsurely. “Do you want to see me kill something?” He smirked playfully at you.

It felt wrong and you felt the anxiety rising in your abdomen when you realised you’d get in trouble for that. On the other hand, you did want to see him kill something. It was curiosity mixed with excitement to witness something forbidden and something you had been sheltered from.

“Yes,” you nodded, eagerly. He was a little surprised at your reaction but he only smiled.

Feyd beckoned you over by waving his hand and you followed him, quietly. Then you gasped and covered your mouth as you gagged out of disgust at the sight of a big, fat spider in the corner of the room. It was huge – nearly as big as you were. But it was also fat and slow. The legs were long and thin, furry black sticks.

“I found it a few days ago,” Feyd told you as he looked at your disgusted face. “Gross, isn’t she?”

You nodded.

“She reminds me of my uncle,” Feyd explained with hatred in his voice. “Do you see those small spiders on the ground?” He asked and you looked down. It was full of smaller spiders but they were all laying there dead. “She feeds off of her own children.”

You took a step back, utterly disgusted and sick. Feyd snorted at you and turned his back on you to gut the big, black spider. You watched with terror how much satisfaction it was giving him. He struck the monstrosity so many times that you lost count. He kept striking when it was already laying there dead.

“That’s enough,” you whispered and Feyd froze before turning around to face you. There was pure murder in his eyes and when he walked towards you with a knife in his hand, you were sure he would kill you now, too.

You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes, expecting the worst. But when you felt his breath on your face, you heard him hiding the knife away.

“Stupid little bunny,” he told you and you opened your eyes, hesitantly. He was staring at you as if he was studying your face.

The door opened suddenly and a few guards entered, sighing out of relief. Your father was standing behind them, scared. Baron Harkonnen was there as well, floating ominously.

“There you are!” He raised his voice and you spotted that all Feyd’s confidence was gone in a second. The boy looked down and blushed. “I’ve told you to behave. Why are you scaring Lady (Y/N)?!”

You turned around to face The Baron, hiding his nephew’s from his sight with your small body.

“He did not scare me, my Lord,” you assured with a slight bow of your head. “I wanted Feyd-Rautha to show me around,” you lied to protect him.

You had a feeling his uncle would punish him and he looked like a man you would never want a punishment from.

“She’s naive,” your father tried to save the situation. “Curiosity killed the cat,” he reminded you and grabbed you by your wrist to pull you closer to him. “Forgive my daughter, my Lord Baron.”

“She is forgiven,” the big man smirked viciously before lying his eyes on his nephew. “The boy, however, is not.”

You wanted to protest but your father gave you a stern look and announced it was time for you to leave now. So, you obeyed and walked away, following the guard leading you out of the corridor. But you kept looking behind, trying to see Feyd-Rautha for the last time.

“Will I see him again?” You asked your father, looking up.

“Who?”

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” you explained and your father sighed as he looked down at you.

“You will in eight years,” he announced. “You will become his wife.”

Those eight years you had not wasted a day, practising for your new role every day. Learning all about The Harkonnens; their culture, their history, their customs and war strategies. You knew that their nobility would not give you an easy time for being a Lady of the lesser house. You wanted to prove your worth with knowledge.

Your wisdom was your only weapon because you lacked confidence nor experience in nearly anything. Sheltered your whole life, surrounded by books and teachers, you were shy and innocent. The spider incident on Giedi Prime still remained your only sin – that no one except your husband-to-be possessed the knowledge of.

You had not been in touch with him at all but the stories had reached you about his nature and his victories in the gladiator arena. You believed them all because your short encounter had been enough to give you an idea about what kind of man he would become. You had never protested whenever your marriage was mentioned but you felt anxious. You didn’t belong on Giedi Prime, you didn’t fit in the world of death and violence.

Tested by Gom Jabbar, you nearly failed the test. The scary Reverend Mother gave your mother a look of disapproval. On the very next day you were shipped to Giedi Prime for your wedding, though. You had survived the trial and only that mattered – the long-planned scheming couldn’t be sabotaged.

On the day of your arrival, you were led with your parents to a room you had remembered from your last visit. There was the same black couch and the same portraits on the wall – only now there was one more than before. The last one in line, of a young man with handsome facial features, signed with your betrothed’s name. You opened your mouth slightly as you kept staring at it. He was a young and handsome na-baron; a strong warrior surrounded by men and women who admired him. You could only imagine how inconvenient a marriage had to be for him. Especially to an uninteresting and unimportant woman like you.

The doors opened and you turned around to see him in real life as he entered the room in black gladiator gear. He looked better than in the portrait – raw and magnetic, dangerous. Your parents stiffened at the sight of him and they both bowed their heads.

“Lord Na-Baron,” your father greeted him. “We have delivered our daughter to you, according to the agreement,” he explained. “We have hoped to be greeted by your uncle The Baron.”

“He’s busy,” Feyd interrupted your father in a low and raspy voice that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes were only fixated on you – curious and mocking. You bowed down slightly as well, not wanting to disrespect him.

“Y-yes, of course, my Lord…” your father took a step back.

“You’re grown now,” Feyd-Rautha stood in front of you with a smirk and you took a deep, shaky breath in.

“So are you, my Lord Na-Baron,” you nodded.

“She hasn’t changed a bit,” Feyd turned around to give your father a contemptuous look. “A timid little bunny. But it’s no surprise since she’s been raised by a coward and bootlicker like you.”

“My daughter is of many qualities, my Lord, I can assure you…” your father panicked.

“A wife only needs one quality,” Feyd sneered at him as your blood ran cold at his words. “Show them to their rooms,” he told the guards and left the room.

“I can’t believe you’ve made deals with these people,” your mother snapped angrily at your father who was standing there with his head kept low, ashamed.

But it was not like he had any saying in this. It was the plan of the Bene Gesserit. You were nothing but pawns in it. You tried to remember that Feyd-Rautha was a pawn, too.

After the scary and bloody wedding party, you were taken to your husband’s bedroom where you were supposed to be prepared for the wedding night. However, it was not the maids waiting for you there. Three bald Harkonnen women were sitting on your husband’s bed and smirking at you, showing off their sharp teeth. They were dressed in black leather and clinging to each other as if they were one body instead of three.

“We will prepare her for the Master,” one of them told the servants who had taken you there. You looked at them with panic and they only looked back with guilt and compassion before walking out as quickly as possible, leaving you alone with the scary snake-like creatures.

They were circling around you, sniffing you and chuckling contemptuously. You didn’t understand anything but you tried to bravely keep still and endure. Then, one of them approached you and licked a fat stripe across your cheek. Your eyes widened in terror.

“Oh-so-innocent,” she commented. “Have you ever pleased a man?” She asked.

You were terrified and embarrassed, you didn’t know what to do.

“N-no, my Lady,” you stuttered and nodded your head, unsure how to address her.

They all found it amusing as they laughed.

“My Lady, she calls me. I might like this one,” the woman caressed your hair with some sort of perverted delicacy that made you feel even more scared. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your hands turned cold and sweaty. “I’m not a lady, na-baroness. I am your husband’s whore,” she informed you and you nodded again, hesitantly. “We are his favourite pets. You see… Our Master likes perversion,” her hands landed on your hips as she pulled you closer to her body. “We will teach you how to please him and how to take him.”

“He’s a lot to take,” another woman stood behind you and grabbed your breasts from behind.

“W-won’t he mind, my husband?” You swallowed thickly.

“Not at all,” the third one giggled. “He always shares his toys.”

“Not this one,” the doors opened as Feyd-Rautha entered the room. He glanced at the women angrily and they immediately let go of you and moved away. “She is not a toy, she is your na-baroness. What are you doing here?” He snapped. “Have I not forbidden you from entering this room from now on?”

“Oh, Master…” one of them approached him to put her arms around his neck but he pushed her away.

“Get out,” he hissed and they ran away.

When the doors closed behind them, Feyd looked at you and sighed before approaching you and caressing your cheek.

“You alright, wife?” He asked.

“Y-yes, thank you,” you nodded and flinched at the feeling of his cold fingers brushing your cheek. An odd and out-of-place warmth started to fill you like all those years ago. It made him startled, too, and eventually he took a step back.

“You must be exhausted,” he only said as he looked away, awkwardly. “We can perform our duties in the morning.”

“Th-thank you,” you nodded. “I’ll go take a shower now…”

Feyd pointed at the doors leading to the bathroom and that was all for that night. When you came back to his bedroom, he was already gone. You went to sleep without him, confused by his behaviour.

Baron Harkonnen watched carefully with his own eyes and through the eyes of his servants. He observed and he listened – nothing could ever escape him. But the new na-baroness was as easy to read as a book. When she joined him and Count Rabban by the breakfast table, she didn’t wince while sitting, which was an obvious sign she had not been claimed by Feyd the previous night. The Baron smirked when the new na-baroness began to eat the meal, keeping her timid gaze down, terrified of her surroundings.

If Feyd-Rautha refused to be her friend, The Baron would surely find her a purpose. She would be an easy tool to keep Feyd in place. A silent, obedient shadow following her husband everywhere. A perfect spy.

“Na-Baroness,” he addressed her and she flinched before looking up, scared. “I would like you to join the council after the meal. Your husband rarely takes part in them since he is too busy training but now you are an extension of him,” The Baron forced a smile and she nodded. “I’ve been told by your father you are well-trained in Harkonnen history and customs.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” she bowed her head.

“I know that Feyd-Rautha is not an easy man to be around,” The Baron continued as Rabban raised his head, curious about his uncle’s scheming plan. “He’s been like this ever since he was a child. I’ve been trying to temper him.”

“I remember,” the young woman whispered.

“You can tell me about anything that is worrying you,” The Baron assured her and she smiled genuinely. “Has he hurt you?” He squinted his eyes, knowing the answer already but wanting to test her honesty.

“No, my Lord. Feyd-Rautha did not spend the night with me at all,” she answered and he nodded as Rabban sneered.

“You have to forgive him, my Lady. He prefers other… forms of entertainment,” The Baron explained softly.

“I believe I have met them, my Baron,” the woman looked down.

“Most likely, yes. They don’t like to share him,” The Baron chuckled.

“But the heir…”

“Do not worry about the heir. You are both still young, you have time. There is no need to hurry anything. Take your time to adjust on Giedi Prime first,” The Baron tried to calm her down and she looked up with so much gratitude in her eyes that he was sure he had succeeded. She was his agent now.

To your own surprise, you found new friends in your husband’s family – his uncle and brother – but not him. Feyd-Rautha was mostly avoiding you and a few attempts to claim you were ending in a fiasco. You couldn’t understand why he would pull away suddenly and leave you without a word or fail to get hard enough no matter how long his touch lingered upon your body. It made you feel as if you were lacking, because you knew for sure he had no problems of this sort with his concubines. They often bragged to you about it. They had offered to help you to excite him and you nearly agreed to that but Feyd hated to see you around them. He snapped whenever he caught you talking to them or them approaching you.

He hated to see you around his uncle and brother, too. He had been warning you about them but it felt cruel to do so. Did he want you to not have any companionship at all? To be sad and lonely and miserable all your days?

You weren’t appreciated in marriage but you were appreciated as a part of this family – representing the na-baronship during the council meetings with your decisions and advice. The Baron seemed to be pleased with you and Count Rabban had stopped to make fun of you over time. Still waters run deep, The Baron would often say about you as your cheeks heated up and eyes sparkled. Perhaps all the years of studying the customs and tradition of this House would not be useful in your marriage but they seemed to be useful when it came to your political presence.

It still bothered you that Feyd-Rautha was acting so weirdly towards you. You remembered the boy he had been eight years earlier. You had never feared this union because you had been sure there was some sort of bond now between you two, some sort of connection. Perhaps you had been wrong.

It was right after one of Feyd’s failed attempts to claim you, when he left you half-naked in bed with tears pricking your eyes. He walked away and most likely went to his concubines as you fixed yourself and left the room, too, not wanting to remain in the chambers filled with the smell of embarrassment and humiliation anymore. You nearly crashed with your brother-in-law walking down the corridor.

“My Lady,” Rabban nodded at you. “Is everything alright?”

“Y-yes,” you answered, trying not to show your nervousness. There was no need for him to know the details about the problems your marriage was facing.

“I was just looking for you,” he confessed and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Tomorrow, my uncle wants me to lead the council meeting only for the most important members of the court. It’s about a matter of a very high importance and it’s confidential,” he whispered. “I hoped you would join me. Without my uncle there, I will be the only one representing our family.”

“But tomorrow Feyd has his fight. I am expected to be in the stands,” you looked up at him.

“Uncle will be there. You are more needed here, (Y/N),” Rabban tried to convince you. You could see his hands were a little shaky – he was stressed about the responsibility placed upon his shoulders by his uncle. “It’s not like Feyd will even notice your absence,” he added.

You bit on your lower lip. He was right.

“Alright, I’ll join you in the council,” you nodded your head. “Our state affairs are much more important than some fixed gladiator fight anyway.”

The servants’ slim fingers were applying the black paint upon Feyd-Rautha’s body as he observed his three harpies from the corner of his eye. They were giggling between each other and some of the words reached his sensitive ears.

“...naive…”

“Silly little thing.”

“...taste her heart…”

“What are you talking about, pets?” Feyd turned around to face them as he asked and they went silent.

“Nothing important, Master,” the bravest of them all answered eventually.

“I have a feeling you’re whispering about my wife,” Feyd pointed out.

“As I said, nothing important,” she chuckled and the rest giggled. Feyd squinted his eyes and approached them with a clenched jaw and an angry expression on his face. When he grabbed her by the chin, they stopped laughing.

“You are forbidden to even think of her,” he hissed out. “You’re not worthy of that.”

“M-Master…” She trembled as she pleaded for his softness. Her companions hid behind her and observed him carefully. “She doesn’t even know how to please you, Master.”

Feyd’s hand dropped down and the squeeze tightened around the woman’s neck. He watched her struggle to catch a breath for some time as he observed with a smirk. Eventually, he let go of her.

“My wife belongs to a different realm than you,” he stated. “She is not to be discussed, looked at, thought of… Am I understood?”

“Y-yes, Master,” they all nodded, obediently.

“Good,” he smiled and went back to the servant girls.

“You might be interested in the gossip, though, na-baron,” one of the concubines whispered. “We are your eyes and ears…”

Feyd pretended not to be intrigued although he was. He didn’t react, hoping she would say more. And so she did.

“Your uncle keeps the young na-baroness close. The rumour has it he wants to make her one of his agents. And she is slowly taking your place during the councils. Count Rabban is his Plan B if you fail. Then she will be given to him.”

“I’m sure Rabban won’t have a problem with fucking her,” the bravest concubine added as if his punishment had not worked at all. Because it didn’t. She loved his punishments. “Her innocence will only make him more eager. He will tear her apart.”

“Shut up!” Feyd growled, making the servant girls take a few steps back as he turned around to face the girl with a big mouth. “Let me remind you that I don’t need your tongue to fuck you,” he sneered. “Your sisters are better at using their tongues than you anyway.”

The woman looked down and he was informed that he was about to enter the arena in five minutes so he went back to putting the gear on, furiously clutching to his blades. He was grateful to his concubine for fueling his anger so much – he wanted to make good use of it in the arena.

But when he approached the tower with his uncle’s balcony to bow down, he spotted that his wife was not there. Suddenly, the fight made no sense to him at all. What was the point of putting on a show, what was the point of killing with grace when she could not watch?

He had been waiting eight years for her to come back. The timid little bunny girl that made him feel so warm inside. That made him feel like home. Nothing had ever made him feel this way. They were destined for each other. Now, when she was by his side, he had no idea what to do. He had been training his body for years to impress her and be able to protect her but nothing was working out the way he had planned. She was slipping away.

She was slipping away because of his uncle’s scheming and because Feyd-Rautha himself had no idea how to approach a creature so pure and innocent as this woman. If anything in this world was still able to save his rotten soul, it was her. But maybe he had been naive to think so. He was beyond saving.

He didn’t give the audience a show on that day. The fights were quick and swift. No playing with his victims, no tormenting. Just a kill after kill to finish it as fast as possible. And no bowing down at the end. He just walked out of the arena, still clutching his fists on the blood-dripping blades. He walked past the guards and servants, not wanting to change or bathe – he wanted one thing only. To find his wife.

The sounds of the cheering audience were becoming more and more quiet. They waited for him to walk back and bow down, raising his knife in the sign of victory. He had no plans in doing so. He would not kneel in front of his uncle. Not when his wife was not beside him, because it was her he had been kneeling for. Not Baron Harkonnen.

The council was over now but you stayed inside the conference room with Count Rabban to discuss what had been decided and what to tell his uncle. You were staring at the maps of Arrakis and wondering whether the Emperor’s assurances of help were trustworthy.

“What I’m saying is… If he is so willing to get rid of The Atreides just because he considers them to be dangerous… He might do the same to us one day. We are a real danger to him way more than any Atreides is,” you pointed out.

“Especially now when we have knowledge that can turn other leaders against him and…” Rabban’s words were interrupted by the heavy black doors opening rapidly. You flinched and instinctively hid behind your brother-in-law’s broad shoulders.

It was Feyd-Rautha himself walking inside with an angry look on his face. Wearing his gladiator gear stained with fresh blood and still wielding two bloody swords. He looked ferocious as his cold eyes searched for you. When he spotted you behind his brother, his jaw clenched and so did his fists on the handles of the blades.

“What is going on here?” He barked as you and Rabban looked at each other, questioningly.

“Husband,” you tried to be brave as you took a step ahead to approach him very carefully. “I see you’re finished now. I assume you’ve won.”

“(Y/N), wait,” Rabban grabbed your sleeve to keep you in place. He didn’t want you near Feyd in such a state. But Feyd didn’t like his brother’s gesture.

“Let her go, brother,” he snapped. “She is my wife and she will approach me if she wishes. I would never lay my hand on her,” he drawled through gritted teeth.

You felt Rabban’s fingers letting go of the fabric of your dress and you walked up to Feyd. Something inside you was telling you that he needed you at that moment. Perhaps that was the intuition of a wife.

“Oh, we all know that you don’t lay your hand on her at all, brother,” Rabban snorted at him.

You watched in terror how your husband’s face became even more angry than before. He yelled and attacked his brother with all the burning wrath he had before been trying to stop from outbursting with.

“No! Stop! Please,” you pleaded as they fought and struggled one against another. Rabban took out his own blade now, too, and they ended up wrestling on the floor like two children. “That is enough, please!” You cried out.

Your tears brought attention to only one of them – your husband. He was distracted by them and ended up with his brother’s blade pointed at his face. You froze and Rabban laughed with contempt.

“Such a great warrior you are, my brother. Trained day and night for years, got your little arena shows… And now you got distracted by a woman,” he pointed out.

“That woman is my wife,” Feyd drawled.

You looked around in panic but the guards stood there petrified. They were afraid to attack any of the brothers. Usually shy and timid, you felt an odd outburst of courage as you took a blade from the guard standing nearby. He did not protest but only watched in terror as you approached the brothers and pointed the blade at Count Rabban himself.

“Don’t be stupid,” he laughed at you.

“Let my husband go,” your voice shivered but you managed to stand your ground.

“Or what?” Rabban sneered. “We both know you won’t strike me.”

In that very moment Feyd kicked him and got out of the direction of his brother’s blade. He ended up on top with his own knife pointed at Rabban. A smirk on his face revealed that he had never been defeated even for a second, he was only toying with his brother… and with you, too.

“She might not but I will,” Feyd hissed at his brother. “My marriage is none of your business, brother. And you stay away from my wife.”

“I am only representing you during the councils,” you tried to explain and Feyd looked up at you with his brow furrowed. “Your uncle told me I should because you rarely take place in them.”

“He’s scheming, can’t you see? Trying to turn us against each other. Thought you were smarter than this,” his anger was directed at you now.

He let go of Rabban and stood up to walk out of the room. You swallowed thickly and lowered your blade, scared of your brother-in-law’s reaction now when you were left alone with him after threatening him.

“Why did you take his side?” He only asked as you gave the blade back to the guard. “He doesn’t treat you any good. He never will.”

“He is my husband,” you explained quietly, avoiding his curious gaze.

“By name only. Your marriage is not even consummated.”

“Feyd was right,” you looked up. “Our marriage is none of your business, brother,” you emphasised who he was to you now before walking out to follow Feyd. It was easy because he left a trail of sand and blood from the arena behind him.

He went to your chambers so you took a deep breath in and pushed the doors open to face him in all his wrath and anger. He was struggling to get out of his gear with shaky hands as he shot you a furious glance over his shoulder.

“Should I call for the servants?” You asked.

“No,” he snapped and you sighed before approaching him and helping him yourself. At first he tried to shake you off but you were stubborn so he gave up and allowed your gentle fingertips to work on the pieces of clothing. “How do you even know how to do that?” He asked. “Did Rabban show you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, dear husband. I’ve read dozens of books about The Harkonnen art of warfare. I know your gears by heart. And Rabban is no gladiator,” you explained.

“Dozens of books about the art of warfare and The Harkonnens and yet it slipped your mind what masters of manipulation we can be?” Feyd barked at you and you chuckled. He didn’t find it amusing as he looked you up and down with contempt so you leaned in and placed a kiss upon his soft lips while your hands cupped his face. He was visibly taken aback by that, he didn’t even close his eyes for the kiss and he continued to observe you as if you would attack him any second.

“I have studied everything like a good pupil I was,” you whispered after breaking the kiss. Your hands kept caressing his cheeks in a soothing manner. “And now I’m one of The Baron’s closest people. I’m your inside man, Feyd-Rautha,” you smiled gently and his eyes sparkled at the realisation.

“But… why?” He only asked, confused.

“What do you mean why?” You bit on your lower lip.

“I’ve been treating you… coldly,” he admitted.

“Well, that is another matter. But that is between you and me. The marriage is between a husband and a wife. Not between them and his uncle or brother,” you explained. “I still remember that big fat spider. I’ve known ever since I was twelve years old that the thing you crave the most is to gut your uncle like you did to that monstrosity in the dungeons. And as your wife… I will do everything I can to help you,” you assured him.

But Feyd was not convinced. He pushed you away although he did it way gentler than you’d expect. He walked away from you as he stepped out of the pile of clothes by his feet. He was wearing nothing but underwear now and you watched how his muscular body glistened with sweat after the fight. 

“You can be a double agent, wife. I don’t trust you,” he confessed.

“You have no reasons to,” you nodded. “Except for the fact we have fate and destiny bonding us. Am I the only one feeling this when we touch?” Your voice lowered as uncertainty began to grow inside of you. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you were the only one feeling that warmth indeed.

“No,” Feyd admitted, nearly inaudibly. “Why do you think I can’t fuck you?” He approached you again and you gasped at how close he chose to stand.

“Because you find me unattractive? Or boring perhaps,” you shrugged your arms. “I don’t care about that. Our bond is stronger than physical attraction.”

“I can’t fuck you because that feeling is overwhelming me and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt like that. You’re too pure for me,” he confessed, visibly uncomfortable with his own words as he looked away.

You were stunned for a moment.

“You’re an idiot, Feyd-Rautha,” you laughed eventually and he blushed. “I am not pure. I am flesh and blood just like you,” you told him. “For example now… When you’re standing in front of me… like this,” you allowed your hand to wander all over his hard muscles. “You’re starting a fire that will be difficult to put out later,” you looked up to meet his gaze. “Every time you start and don’t finish, you leave me in torment,” you confessed. “And nothing helps,” you pouted. “I writhe and I roll around and grow more and more bitter knowing that you’re giving your whores what you’re supposed to give me.”

He was nearly paralyzed in a way he was staring at you. You grabbed his hand and pulled your dress up to press his hand to your womanhood. You were soaking through your underwear now and he blinked a few times as his gaze intensified.

“I will never forgive myself if I break you,” Feyd took his hand away despite your protests.

“You’re breaking me by refusing to touch me,” you whined.

“Touch yourself,” he said suddenly as his eyes sparkled and you were left speechless. “Touch yourself for me. I will help you. I’ll make it feel good,” he proposed.

Out of desperation, you decided this was better than nothing – at least for now – so you agreed. As fast as possible, you got rid of your dress and remained in nothing but your sheer underdress. You laid on the bed and watched him approach you. Feyd laid next to you, observing you carefully. His eyes were admiring every curve of your body and every inch of your skin. Without waiting for his command, you pulled the underdress up and took off your underwear to toss the panties aside and start playing with your wet folds. It was embarrassing to see him watch but it also excited you in some twisted way. You toyed with your clit, moaning softly, showing him what kind of pleasure you could bring to yourself – what kind of pleasure you had to bring to yourself since he refused to do so.

“Easy, slow down,” Feyd breathed out and placed his rough hand on your waist. He was caressing you and joined your lips together in a sloppy kiss. His free hand undid the ribbon on the top of your underdress to free your breasts. They shivered under the touch of his big hand as he played with your nipples and buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear.

You shut your eyes close, trying to focus on the pleasure as your fingers rubbed on your sensitive swollen clit but it was not enough. It never was.

“I can’t…” You admitted your defeat as you tried to catch a breath.

“Yes, you can,” Feyd whispered into your ear in that low, raspy voice of his that sent shivers down your body and straight to your core. “What’s stopping you?”

“It’s just… I don’t know…” You didn’t know how to find the right words. “It’s not enough,” you admitted. “It’s not you.”

“Let me, then,” he raised himself to look into your eyes as his hand moved your hand away and his fingers replaced yours on your exposed clit. You gasped at the feeling of his fingertips drawing circles and teasing your entrance. 

You pressed your hands to his chest and then you moved them lower to explore the hard muscles of his abs. To feel them underneath your fingers was enough to make your back arch needily, exposing even more of your hungry pussy. Feyd smirked at that and buried his fingers deep inside as you gasped out of pain but it was quickly replaced with pleasure.

His free hand grabbed your chin gently and when you looked up, batting your eyelashes and opening your lips slightly, he put his fingers inside of your mouth and you grabbed his wrist to hold on to it as you sucked and moaned. His other hand was bringing you close to your release as his movements were fast and rough and his thumb circled your clit.

You cried out but his fingers muffled it so you ended up choking on the sound escaping your lips as you came writhing under him with sweaty forehead and single hair strands sticking to your face, your whole body set on fire, trying to catch a breath. Feyd swallowed thickly as his eyes sparkled.

You yelped as he smacked your sensitive pussy right after pulling his fingers out of it and licking them clean, looking deep into your eyes. You were speechless as your mind was left thoughtless.

You could only watch him lower himself and open your thighs even further with his strong arms as he buried his face between your legs to lap on your juices. You were sensitive so it burned in the beginning but the uncomfortable feeling submerged into pleasure once again. Feyd’s tongue was cleaning your folds thoroughly and penetrating you while you threw your head back as you laid your hands on the back of his neck, keeping him close. But this time he didn’t let you cum so easily.

When you were about to reach the peak again, he moved his head away and the next thing you saw was his face right in front of yours, his chin dripping with your wetness and his cold eyes filled with so much fire that you felt like a prey trapped by a big predator.

But you loved that feeling. You loved to feel small and tiny under him, trapped, vulnerable. You dug your nails into his biceps and looked down. He had already tossed his underwear aside and his cock was hard now, swollen and aching for you, you could see it twitching and leaking black precum. He looked heavy and big and you wanted him badly to claim you and violate you to the point no other man would ever even think of touching you after him.

You had never made him that hard. You had never gone so far before. You were sure you’d succeed now.

“Take me, claim me, make me yours,” you pleaded. “Please, I want more of you.”

Feyd shut you up with a kiss and a strong, stinging pain of his hard cock finally penetrating you. Your eyes widened as you whined. He intertwined your fingers together and held you through the process of adjustment to his size. You were the first one to impatiently rock your hips to show him you wanted him to move. So he did, slowly and carefully. He winced from his attempts to keep himself in control and you let go of his hands to pull him closer by his shoulders and deepen the kiss.

You moaned softly and helped him to fuck you by you rocking your hips against him as your legs wrapped around his waist. You both had been waiting so long for this moment of unity that it didn’t take long for you two to reach your highs and the familiar feeling of warmth filled you whole. You didn’t remember your own name, the only thing you knew was that you were home and the man above you was destined for you; you were born to be his wife and he was born to be your husband. The thousands of years of manipulation of the bloodlines had led you to this moment and nothing could tear you apart now. No amount of rumours, scheming or the disability to show emotions.

You were catching your breath as Feyd was slowly coming back from his high above you, panting heavily and looking at your face with hazy eyes.

“You belong to me,” he leaned in to kiss your lips again. “You always have.”

“No matter what happens, we are one,” you agreed with a nod and intertwined your fingers with him as you held his hand. “Now, when that is settled, we shall focus on our most important task.”

“And that is?”

“Killing the fat spider in his nest,” you answered.

“Thankfully, we have experience,” Feyd teased before placing yet another soft kiss upon your parted lips.

MASTERLIST

[zipzaptoastainthebath]

“i dont trust people on the internet” - my stepmom regularly.

yeah, the internet can be scary, but I am careful.

also, to my stepmom: Consult the bruises you have left on my body before you talk about who *I* get to trust. 

[fattystoriez]

Daddy is Different

Content Warning: Incest, Weight gain

Trent was an only child raised by just his father. His mother had left his father for a richer man when Trent was only 8 years old. Trent and his father were very close before Trent left for college right out of high school on a basketball scholarship. Trent hadn’t visited for the holidays, which made Trent feel guilt for leaving his father all alone, with only a little communication back and forth. So Trent decided to go back home for Spring break, his father had presumably found a partner who really wanted to meet Trent, he was excited to see his father was doing well.

Trent arrived home and walked right in, announcing himself. “Hello? Dad?? Anybody home?!” As Trent walked in the house was a mess, junk food trash everywhere. Trent’s father was usually healthy… Trent couldn’t imagine his dad ever touching any junk food. There was a smell of musk and piss, stained jockstraps all over the place.

Trent makes it to he living room which was a major source of the smell, his dad was sitting in a chair in the living room. He looked wildly different, his healthy average hairless body seemed to have ballooned into a fat guy topped by a set of tits. He was bald now, a spotted a heady beard. He has a cigar in his mouth, one that seemed to have just been lit.

“Welcome home Piggy, I’ve missed you so much.” Trent’s dad opened his arms stretched out for a hug.

Trent was taken a back… how could this be his father? This man was a fat disgusting slob, the complete opposite of his dad. “Dad? What happened to you?”

“So this is the Piggy I’ve heard so much about!” A giant fat man walked in, wearing only his camouflage underwear. He was graying, definitely older than Trent’s father. His bulge was massive, the tip soaked in pre-cum. He walked right up to Trent and put his hand on his arm “You’re quite the skinny guy, not nearly plump enough to be a pig.”

Trent pushed away “What the fuck? Dad what’s going on here… who is this disgusting man?!” Trent’s head started to feel light, he was starting to get dizzy.

“It’s daddy for now on pig, and this is your paw. I met him at the bar a couple months ago” Hiw could these changes happen in a just a few months? “He told me he could make my life better and help me get you back home.” Trent’s father blew out a plume of smoke into his son’s face.”

Paw got behind Trent and pulled his shirt off “this will give you some room piggy” Trent was so confused, but oddly getting very horny. Paw got Trent in his knees, whipped out his fat cock and huge balls. “I’m so full piggy, time to fattened up this hog!” Paw forced his cock into Trent’s mouth.

After not a few pumps down Trent’s throat Paw was ready to bust his load into Trent’s mouth. It was like his balls has gallons of cum, causing Trent to feel full.

Trent’s body filled out with lard covering his once slender, lean body. His stomach pushed out and jiggled with soft fat, starting to form rolls on his body. “Ughnnnn” Trent moaned as he groped his fat body. “What’s are you doing to me?!” Trent was starting to get hard. Trent was trying to fight away, stop this from happening, but he was beginning to give in.

Paw and Daddy began to play with Piggy’s fattening body, they start to push into his soft rolls. Daddy began to shove junk food like pizza, doughnuts and shakes into Piggy’s mouth.

Piggy’s underwear started morphing into a black jockstrap, his blubbery body hanging over his waist. Piggy grew a full beard that showcased the milkshake staying around his mouth. Piggy’s body had become so huge, so far from the lean body he had moments prior.

What was once a college basketball player, is now a Piggy for his fat slobbish daddies to force to grow fatten and fatter. Trent sometimes makes it to the surface, his horror of being so huge and disgusting later turned into a grotesque horniness. There was no more Trent, only Piggy.

[storiesfromafan]

Little Bird - Part One

A/N: I am finally diving into writing a story for Feyd. Forgive me if he is ooc, but I am trying haha. This idea came when rewatching Dune Part Two almost a week ago. And i haven't been able to stop thinking about it, only to work on Benny one-shots.

Also, things may/have been changed to suit the Story, and will possibly keep changing to fit it as a whole.

This will probably be a slow written/updated story, as I want to make sure it's as good as it can be.

Do let me know what you think 😊

Part One

Rabban strode heavily and with confidence into the war room, his uncle – Baron Vladimir Harkonnen – grotesquely sitting at the head of the table. The Baron looked to his nephew with a scathing look, making Rabban's step faulted for a second, yet he continued on as if nothing happened.

“Well?” Boomed the Baron's impatient voice.

Coming to stand before his uncle, Rabban looked to the man with a proud and confident demeanour. “Yes Uncle. We have successfully obtained Arrakis, and wiped out the Atreides".

The gluttonous man smiled wickedly at his nephew, his plans coming along nicely. “Good. You have done well Rabban".

In the moment Rabban felt light, the weight of delivering what was expected of him lifted. Something that seemed rare, hardly happening for him. Today he had finally showed his worth, and his Uncle had shown him he was favoured. For the Baron had given him the place he conquered. Commanding he go to Arrakis, take the spice and make the Harkonnen name mean something of greater greatness.

A dark chuckle came from the shadows off to the side of both men. Both cast their gaze to the figure that slowly stepped out, their skin pale and head bald, like the other men. But the main feature separating the three was the new comers stormy blue eyes, which shone with mischief and mayhem. His full lips housing a knowing smirk. He was the Baron’s other nephew, Feyd-Rautha.

“Brother, do tell our Uncle about the souvenir you brought back from your invasion of Arrakis" came Feyd's raspy, yet amused voice.

Rabban's jaw clenched at his brothers words, have beating him to the punch. For he had hoped to inform the Baron of his prize himself. Part of him knew that the Baron would be angry for taking what he did. Yet he could not help himself. The perfect opportunity arose and Rabban couldn’t resist taking something for himself. Even if he didn’t truly want it. It was to show his strength and power.

“What is he on about?” Demanded the Baron, eyes drawing together in agitation.

The older nephew sputtered, trying to find the words while being put on the spot. Feyd held his arms behind his back as he leisurely strolled to stand beside his Uncle. His intense gaze on Rabban. With both sets of eyes on him, Rabban was uneasy, yet did his best to not show it.

“Well!” The Baron yelled, now becoming impatient with the man before him.

Once more Rabban could not speak, only angering the Baron more. Feyd smiling joyously at his brothers lack of response, how both he and the Baron seem to effect him.

“Uncle, since Rabban is tongue tied, I will inform you" came Feyd's raspy voice. “It would seem my brother has taken the prize of Atreides niece, the one who’s mother ran away and disgraced her family".

The Baron listened to Feyd's words, staying silent. Which he took as a sign to go on.

“I will say one thing in my brothers defence" Feyd mused, walking towards Rabban. “This prize is known to be good friends of the Princess. So, having her in our hands is favourable. And if we were to join her to our house, we may gain more favour with the Princess. And ultimately her father, the Emperor”. Feyd stood by Rabban and turned to look to the Baron.

Silence fell for a few minutes. Feyd watching the gluttonous man before him. Rabban not looking to his Uncle, and uneasy by the complimentary words of his brother. And the Baron, the wheels in his head turning. But then he smirked, a deep chuckle coming from the man both nephews despised.

“We already have an in with the Emperor. For he supplied us with his own men" the Baron looked to each of his nephews, who stared at the man before them intently. “Having the princesses favour because I allowed Atreides niece to join our house, is not necessary. In fact, it would low us!”

Locked in a windowless, bland room – walls a sterile grey, basic grey and black furniture. It was some sort of holding cell, a fancier one for those who had come from wealthy and influential families. Yet the Harkonnen’s seized, contemplating if they would execute them or not. That was were you were currently waiting, and for over twenty-four hours.

You had been dragged here, after being taken from Arrakis during the take over. You recall being asleep in your room, before hearing noises from the halls. When you left your room you found the chaos. Soldiers moving about, killing all insight. Unlucky for you Rabban Harkonnen had been coming down your hall. His eyes landed on you, recognition flashing in his eyes. And that was it. Before you could run he had his large hand on your arm, dragging you away while death and destruction passed you.

Even now you were still dressed in your night dress, which had dirt and some blood on it. Your hair was a tangled mess from those that would take hold of it and drag you about, Rabban included. Your lip was also split from being backhanded when you finally spoke up. Thankfully it had clotted over, but it was still quiet sore. You were on alert, but frightened. And who wouldn’t be? Yet you thrived, navigating it while feeling everything you did.

You had to be strong from a young age. Due to your mothers choice to pick love over duty, resulting in you, you were the one to suffer for her indiscretion. All the great families looked down their nose at you from the age of seven, when your mother had gotten her foot in the door, your father’s family rising and gaining a small bit of power. It wasn’t much but it allowed you all to be seen in social circles. But many whispered, speaking ill of you all.

Great families told their children to not speak to you, leaving you out in the beginning. When you were nine did the Princess Irulan for-go what people and children said. She was kind to you, befriending you. A true friend. And for once you felt as if you didn’t have to fight to be seen. Over time your friendship influenced those around the Princess, and in turn those children were kind to you under the Princesses gaze. But as soon as she turned her back, or left, they turned their backs to you.

Your ears faintly picked up shuffling in the hallway outside your room. Followed by voices, which sounded to be in a heated exchange. Wearily you stood from the chair you’d been sitting in, refusing to sleep till you knew what was to become of you. Taking a couple steps toward the rooms door, you strained to hear what was transpiring behind your closed door.

“How could you!” A gruff, angry voice said. “She was to be mine!”

Then there was a deep chuckle. “An why would you want her? Don’t you have enough whores to keep yourself entertained?”

“I was the one to take Arrakis and wiped out the Atreides! She is my prize!” A loud bang rang out down the hall, a fist had hit a wall.

“She was taken from you because you hid her from our Uncle”.

“Which I was going to inform him of! Until you told him!”

Their voices lowered, and their words faster. You didn’t hear anything after that. With a final loud aggravated groan, followed by heavy feet stomping away from your room. Then silence. Yet you could not relax just yet, for the other person was still out there. You knew it.

When the door suddenly open did you jump. But the doorway was empty, staring out the door frame  you questioned what was going on. Then he entered the space of the door. You took a step back. Slowly, as if stalking pray, he entered the room. The door closing shut behind him. Like all that you had seen he was pale and bald, but also tall and lean. As he entered into the light of the room his face coming into full view. First you noticed his full lips, that were set in a straight line. His strong jaw and sharp cheek bones. Last it was his blue eyes, their bright blue contrast to the dark look he was giving you.

With every step closer to you, did you step back. Until you were stopped by the chair you had been sitting in. Recovering from being trapped while the man came to stand before you. You stood tall, holding your head up high. Your gaze fierce as it meets his bright blue eyes. What surprised you was the amusement shining in his eyes now. You were amusing to him.

You looked at him, really looked at him. For a Harkonnen, this man had some unearthly beauty. Yet something told you you’ve met before, though you couldn’t believe it. But those eyes, bright blue, different yet familiar. Either in this life, or a past one.

“W-who are you?” You finally asked, wanting the silence to end.

He remained silent, just watching you a little longer, before he took a step back, giving you breathing room. His hands moving to rest behind his back, as a fear enduring smile crossed his full lips, which did not reach his eyes.

“I am Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen” came his raspy, deep voice.

A chill ran down your spine, both from who he was and his voice. You had heard many stories of the man before you, stories that chill to the bone and leave no room for humanity in him. And you stood before him. But why?

“W-why are you here?” You questioned, knowing you were pushing it. And Feyd was allowing it.

“I am here to inspect what is now mine" he coolly replied, as if it was common knowledge.

You looked at him with confusion. How did you end up his, if his brother was the one to take you from Arrakis? “What about your brother?”

Feyd chuckled softly. “My brother did not inform the Baron of taking you. And as punishment you were given to me, little bird".

You remained quiet, letting his words sink in. You had been worried about being Rabban's prize. But now Feyd owning you, that was terrifying. He would either spend his time torturing you, your flesh, before killing you. Or he would make you his whore, your body servicing him in every carnal way. Neither were options you looked forward too. Though maybe the death route would be the best of the two, for it would end the soonest.

“Come now" Feyd's words broke you from your thoughts. “Surely you wish to ask more questions little bird?”

He’d already given you a nickname, one you found annoying. “S-stop with that nickname".

“Why?” He asked in amusement. “I think it suits you. Taken from the wild, only to be locked up" – he reach out to take a lock of hair in his fingers, which you pulled away from – “untamed but with time can be...”

Your gaze darkened, as you managed to move from the chair and putting more distance between the two of you. His words had truth to them, but you would not be tamed. Not by him, and not by his methods.

“You are strong" Feyd said suddenly, his face dropping so it was serious. “I remember you at the palace when we were younger. How the children from the great families looked down at you, spat insults at you. It made you strong...”

Was that a compliment? “So what?” You spat.

He chuckled once more. “I was making an observation little bird. As not once had you cried or cowered when you were taken. Nor when in this room, or in my presence. You stand tall, and do your best to remain calm. I will give you that".

You glared at him. Not for what he said, but the nickname and how sure of himself he was. You were here because of his brother, not by choice. You were here, in your nightdress and looking a fright, because of them. They didn’t even have the decency to let you freshen up.

Feyd took no time to move before you again, his hand taking a hold of your chin. Lifting your head so he could look down into your eyes. Your glare deepened at his actions, which only pleased him more. Feyd then moved his thumb to your bottom lip, the rough pad running along it. The pressure he used collided with the split in your lip, causing it to open and you to hiss. Music to Feyd's ears. Running his thumb over the blood, he moved it over your lip, back and forth till it was completely covered.

Pulling his hand back, Feyd moved the blood covered thumb to his mouth. His tongue licking the pad, collecting your blood. The metallic taste delightful. “You will be moved to a better room. I will send some women to help clean you up, before you get some needed rest. By tomorrow I should have worked it out...”

“W-worked what out?” You asked curiously. A sinking feeling in your stomach.

A twisted smile crossed Feyd's face, chilling you to the bone. “If I will kill you or make you my whore".

With those words he turned from you, and walked to the door. Once it opened, he moved from the room and once more the doors closed, leaving you alone. Leaving you wonder what just happened. You moved to the chair and sat, your mind running over all that transpired with Fayd. Then finally you understood, tomorrow would either be the day you die or the day you loose yourself.

You don’t know how long you sat there, but when the doors opened and two guards walked into the room, you knew it was time to go. Reluctantly you lifted yourself from the chair, and crossed the room to them. One guard exited first, with you following before the second guard brought up the rear. It felt like you were being marched like a criminal, but it was far from it. For as you arrived to your new room, the halls to get there were nicer but still bland. The room was larger, a couch and big bed. The walls were still grey but with this room there was a window. You could see the night of Giedi Prime.

Two bodies walking from an adjoining room caught your attention, and upon turning you were greeted to the sight of two Harkonnen women, slaves, waiting with their hands held before them and eyes down. They were pale and bald, yet thin and were quite beautiful.

“My lady" they greeted softly, scared to be loud.

“If you follow us, we have a bath being drawn for you" one of them advised.

You didn’t say a word, but cautiously crossed the room to them. They stepped aside and allowed you to enter first. The bathroom had the same grey walls and grey, and black furniture, but with a large sunken tub in the middle of the room. Another woman was filling the tub, pouring in oils and scents. It didn’t take long for it to be full, and she left her spot. She walked over to you, bowed and then left. The other two women came in, and moved to undress you. You didn’t fight them when they removed your nightdress and undergarments.

You walked into the tub, the warm water feeling good as you slowly submerged your body in it. Your muscles loved the warm water, it helping with the tension you were holding. The floral scent pleasing to your nose. One of the woman came up and asked to help with your hair, which you accepted. So there you were, relaxing in a tub of water while the slave washed your hair and detangled it. It felt so good you almost forgot where you were, and what had happened to Arrakis and your family.

“Leave me" you commanded when your hair had been seen to.

Both women bowed before scurrying out of the room, door closing behind them. There you floated, eyes cast to the dark, sterile ceiling. In this moment of relaxation did you recall your family. Your Uncle, Duke Leto Atreides. His concubine Jessica. Your Cousin Paul. And all those innocent people serving the family that had fallen at the Harkonnen hands.

For the first time in years did tears rise in your eyes, and made their escape down your cheeks. The situation you were in was not easy. Many would have crumbled as soon as seeing the soldiers, or when they were on the ship to this toxic planet. You crumbled in a tub full of pleasant smelling water, realisation of possible outcomes of fate flashing before your eyes. Tomorrow would come too quick, you just knew it.

TBC...

[bigification]

Family Business

"I told you a million times, I don't want to be a baker." Luca raised his voice at his parents.

"That's what your father said when he was your age, he came around." Lucas mother retorted.

"I told my father no again and again, but everything changed when I got the keys to the bakery." His father added.

"Well I'm not you, dad. I went to law school for six years, and I'm not letting that go to waste just for tradition. Just sell it to someone." Luca snapped back.

"Well you will have to wait until you pass on the bakery to your son, because you are taking over the bakery." His dad held out the keys to the store.

"What!?" Luca let out in shock.

"It was my 25th birthday that I was gifted the keys to the store by my father, so now I am passing it on to you for your 25th birthday."

Luca let out a loud sigh, he didn't have time for this right now. He needed to find a job in law soon. He huffed and grabbed the keys, intending to work something out later.

He felt a small shock as he grabbed the keys. He felt frozen in place as something began to change. A round bulge started to grow underneath his t shirt. His previously flat stomach grew rounder and rounder until his small belly was noticeable through his shirt. Fat continued to pile into his stomach, giving him a solid pot belly. As it grew, other parts of his body started to change. His defined pecs melted under a layer of fat, growing into a set of soft man tits. His scrawny arms exploded with both fat and muscle, and his hands grew twice in size with thick sausage fingers.

His belly was still growing. His shirt rode up more and more until it was well past his deep belly button. His ass soon followed suit, stretching his gym shorts to their limits. A not so subtle bulge formed in the front of his pants as his dick became long and girthy. His thighs thickened to the point that there was no gap between his legs and his feet grew to the point of ripping through his socks.

As Lucas growth seemed to slow down, dark hairs began to sprout all over his once hairless body. His arms and legs grew a thick pelt of hair as a jungle sprouted on his chest. His exposed belly also grew generous amounts of hair. Finally, his facial features began to change. His face became weathered as wrinkles and sun spots riddled his skin, making him look at least ten years older. His hairline receded a fair amount as a small bald spot formed on the top of his head, though his did grow a thick beard to compensate.

Luca was now unrecognizable from the young man he was before. Memories of a new life flooded his mind. He grew up admiring his father, he wanted to be just like him. He was always helping out at the bakery, the treats he often got took a toll on his body, leaving him with a big round gut just like his father. It also helped him develop thick callouses on his finger from all the searing hot trays he hauled around. He also seemed to get the hairy gene from his father, inheriting the large amounts of facial and body hair, but also inheriting the male pattern baldness.

Luca now stood with his short riding up to his chest and his shorts close to ripping. He proudly grabbed the key to the bakery and smiled at his father for the opportunity that he has given him. He puts it in his pocket, and almost as if instinct, rests his hands on his belly.

"My baby is all grown up." Lucas mother says with a tear in her eye.

"Grown up a little too much." His father chuckles as pressed into Lucas gut. "Come with me."

Luca follows his father where his shown his fathers wardrobe. "Might not fit you for long if you keep eating all of the pastries." His father chuckles again.

The bakery prospered after Luca took over, though his waistline definitely didn't. He went on to marry a handsome man, whose waistline also suffered from Luca's delicious baking. He just couldn't wait to pass on the keys to his bakery to his son one day.

[chaostroberry1]

Hi, Could I request a platonic yandere story (or headcanons, whatever works best for you) for Adam's ror family? The reader is human and they decided to adopt her. I haven't seen much for this family and I really need more. Please and thank you very much 💗

Hello anon!! This is one lovely request. I'd love to ^

RoR!platonic!human!family × daughter reader

- I can say that there are many ways that they could have found you, but what I think would be so much funnier is that if Cain and Abel found you abandoned somewhere.

- maybe they were out adventuring until they heard baby noises, little crying. I have a feeling that Cain and his big brother instincts told him to go check it out. And boom, they find you, wrapped around very thin cloth, shivering.

- Cain told Abel to watch you so that he could get Adam. And off he went running. Abel really pitied you despite his age, what a poor thing you were. you were very small and in need of protection.

- once they got Adam to see you, he picked you up gently, cradling you around his arms while instructing the boys to get some leaves and tree branches, to make you a nest.

- he stared into your small little eyes, as eve came rushing, hearing the cries of a baby.

- They adored you so much, you were so weak. They needed to protect you no matter the cost.

- when you started growing older, the two siblings would take you out with them to watch them hunt or scavenger hunt for berries and other tasty fruit.

- your big brothers were so sweet, and very nice. You got scared because of a squirrel once, and they scared it off. Making you giggle happily.

- Eve would make you all desserts, or make you wear pretty clothing. Of course they wouldn't just have you wearing things like them, that means there would be people staring at your body. That's disgusting.

- instead, they give you a dress, and a flower crown. Like a mini princess, you were so cute. their cute little baby girl was growing up. (You were actually still five years old)

- anytime you went missing, everyone would go insane, like you were only out for a walk and eve is already rushing towards you and crying out your name, before squeezing you into the tightest hug ever, barely letting you breathe.

- Adam would scold you, before telling you to go eat berries cus he thought he was too harsh.

- Cain and Abel would cry too, blabbering nonsense like "my baby sister...Whaaa!!! We thought you were dead!!!"

- okay maybe that was too dramatic.

- what if you had a crush? Well. They don't like that. Eve would tell you to consider, and tell you all the littlest details on stuff that she found 'odd' about the person. Like how they dress, or their hair, the way they walk, a bald spot on their head- just basically anything to make you dislike them.

- Adam tho, protective father switch on. Mf is literally pouty about the fact that you had a crush on someone, saying that you were too young, and that you were still his little girl.

- Cain would go chasing the person away while holding a twig, like an angry dog. While Abel would cry to you like "why would you wanna leave us...we're your familyyy..."

- bro.

- but, you've gotten used to them. They love you very much and are only doing things like this for you because they love you.

- might as well just take it, right?

[fantom-as]

He's Psychotic | Feyd-Rautha

fandom: Dune: Part Two (2024)

pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x irulan corrino

description: He’s psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. And she was about to marry him.

word count: 4k

warnings!: smut, wedding night, loss of virginity, rough sex, knifeplay 🔪, bloodplay🩸, where's my wife?, who did this to you?, concubines, blood and injury, praise kink, marriage.

He was psychotic, Irulan was sure of it. An animal, a beast, a sort of soulless creature no living woman could bear to stand.

And Irulan was about to marry him.

This wasn’t the plan, of course. She was supposed to marry Paul Atreides, Duke of Arrakis, but fate had different plans. Her fate took an unexpected turn the moment Paul’s lifeless body fell to the floor, with his enemy’s blade deep in his guts. In that moment, Feyd-Rotha’s black eyes bore into her and the smile of his was just as black.

Her father said, “You’ve won. What would you like in return for this victory?”

She shuddered, unable to take her eyes off the man before her as he walked back to Paul’s body, ripped out the blade from it and pointed the sharp tip towards her, the blood still dripping from it—drip, drip, drip.

“Had the Duke won, he would’ve gotten the princess. Now, as the victor, I have the right to her. I want your daughter.”

Her father didn’t oppose. Perhaps he wanted to but had nothing else to offer. Alas, Irulan was the thing he could give, in his mind, he had already given her up to Paul Atreides.

And so, three days later, she was dressed in traditional bridal garments: the ivory dress of the finest silk, a modest scoop neckline adorned with beading, with long fitted sleeves cascading down her arms with sheer panels, the skirt flowing out from the waist in a graceful line. To finish off, she wore a dramatic veil that framed her entire form and was held up by an ornate headpiece.

She was to be sacrificed to a demon.

Irulan walked down the isle, surrounded by a flood of the same harkonnean faces, all of them bald and pale and muscular, neither of them familiar, only one, at the very end, waiting for her, watching her every step, even the slightest movement of flesh underneath her garments – Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her were like a hawk’s. She shuddered.

The road to her future husband in this hall at Giedi Prime. She walked, and walked, alone and exposed, and it seemed that the distance between him and her remained the same. But no, she was getting closer, because now she could see him better. His robes were of tight shiny leather with silver lining, they clung to his body like a glove. He stood tall and regal, a neutral expression on his face. Except for his eyes, of course. He held his hands in front of himself as if he was imprisoning his own body in one spot, as if he was trying to stop himself from eating away at the distance between them himself, as if he had to keep his hands from reaching out for her.

Irulan finally stood in front of him and, while the Reverend Mother spoke words of matrimony she couldn’t understand (she could understand the language, undoubtedly, only in that moment she wasn’t capable of understanding the meaning behind them), she watched Feyd-Rautha in all his glory. His dark gaze demanded attention. The only comfort was the veil that covered her face from him.

Sometime in the middle of the ceremony, Irulan heard a strange hissing sound. She turned her head very slightly to see three women standing behind her soon-to-be husband. All three of them looked the same—bald heads, black eyes, blackened teeth and pure hatred, addressed to her—different only in height. It took a few moments for Irulan’s frightened mind to realize that these were Feyd-Rautha’s concubines who were hissing at her. No one else, besides Irulan, paid them any attention, so she learned to ignore the hissing too.

However, Irulan was so focused on the concubines, she didn’t understand that the Reverend Mother spoke the last words of the matrimonial ceremony until Feyd-Rautha lifted his hands and unveiled her. She flinched, caught off guard, feeling small and vulnerable before him. His face moved closer to hers very slowly, as if he didn’t want to frighten her. The initial moment of his kiss felt like a butterfly’s touch to her lips—soft, tender, barely there. When her mouth opened to him in surprise, he explored it with his tongue, and the kiss soon turned passionate, wild all-consuming. It lasted far longer than a dutiful wedding kiss should’ve lasted and it left Irulan breathless once it ended.

She stared at his lips, now red from the kiss, even more so in contrast with his paper-white skin. His breathing was just as heavy as hers, their chests heaving in tandem, but he soon regained his wits, reaching out his hand for her, which she wasn��t cautious enough not to take.

He started walking her out of the hall and down the dark empty corridors, leaving the Harkonnens and the rest of Giedi Prime behind them. He led her to a spacious minimally furnished room but she could tell every single item there must’ve cost a fortune.

Feyd-Rautha let go of her hand only when she was standing in front of a canopy bed. Then he disappeared from her sight, and she was too nervous to turn around. He’s psychotic, she had to remind herself. One wrong move and he might attack like an animal.

She felt her headpiece being lifted from her head together with the veil. She saw his pale hands put it aside carefully. She turned her head slightly only to see he had taken off his top garments, and she saw his naked chest, tattooed with thick black lines. He watched her face as she peered into his nether region, then grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him.

“Are you scared of me, princess?” he asked.

Irulan looked into his eyes, searching for madness there, or for empathy. She found neither.

Swallowing thickly, she held his gaze.

“No.”

She couldn’t let him know how frightened she truly was.

Feyd-Rautha’s and moved to the back of his bottoms and he took out a knife, ornate and beautiful, like a piece of art. Irulan’s eyes widened in fear, her body shivered violently outside of her control. Her reaction put a smile on his face. As Feyd-Rautha moved his knife to the fabric of her dress, she closed her eyes, daring herself to get through whatever pain he was about to inflict on her. Most importantly, she couldn’t show panic.

She scrunched her nose, waiting to get stabbed, waiting for the blade to pierce her skin, then dig into her flesh, she waited for him to draw her blood, make her scream—until she heard fabric ripping in half. Irulan opened her eyes, drawing in a lungful of air like a man lost in dessert, breathing in oxygen for the first time. she felt the dress fall of her body before she saw her own nakedness, blushing from shame. She noticed Feyd-Rautha’s eyes on her even if she didn’t see him, she felt his hot breath on her exposed skin. Her nerves were akin to violin strings—tout and resonant—as he stood behind her like a looming threat.

As Irulan tried to calm her respiration, Feyd-Rautha’s fingers dug into her scalp, kneading at her hair and messing up the fancy braids that formed a bun, until her hair was freed, falling down her back in waves. She felt his fingers brush through her locks—once, twice—and then, to Irulan’s grave horror, he brought the knife to her neck, his other arm holding her down by her waist, pulling her bottom into his groin. She gasped at the cold sharp blade on her delicate skin there.

“Still not scared, princess?” he spoke lavishly into her ear.

This was a trick. He wanted a reaction out of her. But he wasn’t going to truly hurt her, otherwise he would’ve done so already. She wouldn’t let him trick her.

“No,” she repeated, although a slight tremor in her voice betrayed the truth.

He pulled the blade away from her, grabbing her by the throat with his other hand. His lips touched her jaw tenderly and she closed her eyes at the feeling.

“Good girl,” he whispered.

His hands guided her to get on the bed, slowly and barely pushing her as she complied. She lied on the bed on her back, feeling her hair fall around her like the sun. Feyd-Rautha’s widened eyes roamed over her body possessively, taking their time to appreciate the curve of her neck, her shoulders, her round breasts, her flat belly, until they landed on her apex. His gaze was hungry, wild, untamed, which she took as a compliment.

Still holding the knife in one hand, he unbuttoned his bottoms with the other and took them off. His cock caught Irulan’s attention immediately—long, thick, and veiny, monstrous just like its’ owner. Seeing where her gaze had landed, Feyd-Rautha smirked, kneeling on the bed as she moved away to give him space, but he grabbed her thighs, pulling her close. He spread her thighs, putting her ankles onto his shoulders, his black gaze boring into her sex. His lips parted as if he was trying to imagine how she would taste down there.

Irulan was hot, so very hot, and the way he stared at her, the way he handled her body was of no help at all.

It was the moment his fingers touched her burning center that she realized how sensitive and wet she truly was. Feyd-Rautha hissed, realizing that very same thing. He began playing with her flesh as if he was a boy with a toy, and she heart the sounds of her own sex dripping and parting for him whichever way he wished.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, making her even wetter. This was affecting him too, it appeared—his cock was so hard and aching it was slowly turning red.

But of course, he couldn’t leave his knife behind. As he brought the knife closer to her core, Irulan panicked, kicking at him and trying to get away, but his grip on her thigh was like vice, she couldn’t move.

“Shhh,” he said, caressing her thigh. “There’ll be nothing but pleasure, wife.”

Irulan was certain that his definition of pleasure differed from hers, so she kept squirming. Only slightly annoyed, Feyd-Rautha gripped his knife tightly by the blade and pushed the handle past her nether lips.

Irulan released a prolonged moan when his thumb found her clitoris and began rubbing circles while simulteneously thrusting the handle of his knife in and out of her.

“That’s it, wife,” he groaned, watching the way her face furrowed in pleasure. “Take my knife like a good girl.”

And she did. His moves grew aggressive, but even the sight of his blood as the sharp blade tore the skin of his palm where he gripped it did not deter her—she was too focused moving her hips in tandem with his thrusts, chasing her pleasure.

Only when she was at the precipice of her own release did he stop abruptly, pulling out the knife out of her and throwing it on the ground. Irulan was irrationally angry and disappointed, but that feeling soon ceased as Feyd-Rautha fondled her body, mostly her breasts and bottom, with his hands, leaving a bloody trail wherever he touched her.

Once finished, he began stroking his now-turned-blue cock, watching her soiled body as a mesmerizing painting. He then lined the head of his cock with her entrance and she tensed without meaning to. He put only the tip in, but Irulan tensed furthermore. He towered over her with his entire body, but not threateningly, it was more like a promise to keep her safe. Feyd-Rautha caressed her cheek, pushing in more, and she hissed from the pain that not even his tender movements helped soothe.

He was patient with her that night, but he wasn’t that patient, so after a few minutes of trying to slowly push into her, Feyd-Rautha thrust all of himself into her while kissing her at the same time, catching the pained scream that tore out of her with his mouth. He kept kissing her and moving inside of her until he was sure she wasn’t going to scream and that the pain eased a little. He pulled away slightly just to watch her breasts move at the rhythm his hips had set.

“Such a good wife I have,” he praised. “Taking me so well.” Irulan whimpered when the pain in her lower abdomen was slowly replaced with pleasure. “That’s it,” he said, moving his face closer to hers. “I want you to look at me as you come on my cock, princess.”

She did.

Irulan woke up. Her body ached and she felt disoriented, reaching out for the warm body that kept her close the whole night. She found the other side of the bed empty.

She washed off the blood from her thighs—her blood—and his blood from all the other places. It was foolish of her to expect Feyd-Rautha to stay until morning as a loving husband, but the abandonment still hurt.

She found a dress to put on and then sat down to brush her hair when a knock came.

“Princess Irulan, na-Baron is calling for you,” a servant said.

“Tell him I’m preoccupied with something.”

“I’m afraid this isn’t an offer, princess.”

And so, two minutes later, she was following the servant down the clinically sterile yet dark corridors, until he led her to a door, saying, “Na-Baron is already waiting for her.”

Na-Baron was actually not waiting for her at all, if his physical state was any sign of that. When Irulan got into the room, she found Feyd-Rautha in no need of any more attentions from another woman. He lied sprawled on a divan while his three concubines attended to his needs: two of them were sucking on his cock as if it were a candy while the third one kissed, but and nibbled on the skin of his chest, neck and shoulders. However, his cock, no matter what they did, remained flaccid.

Irulan reddened at the sight but more than anything she was furious. She would’ve turned on her heel and left right then, if Feyd-Rautha hadn’t already caught her with his eyes.

“There you are, wife,” he spoke to her. “After the magical night I spent with you, my concubines seem to be unable to satisfy me properly. I thought it would help the mattes at hand if you joined them. So, princess, care to join?” he motioned at the tow women sucking his cock. None of the three of them paid her any mind but she felt wrath emanating from them all the same.

Irulan didn’t move a single muscle. “I am your wife, not one of your whores, Feyd-Rautha,” she said coldly and tightly.

Feyd-Rautha merely chuckled at her defiance. She stayed in place like a tree grown into the ground, undeterred by his charming laughter.

“Of course not,” he said, still smiling. Then, in a voice that was firm and commanding, “All of you, leave.”

 The concubines obeyed immediately, pulling away from him. The one who had his cock in her mouth took it out with a loud pop. They hissed as they passed her, and Irulan waited from them to leave from out the door, not foolish enough to have her back to them. But, just as she was about to leave, she heard, “Not you, wife. They are only pets. You are not one of them.”

Irulan turned back to him, regaining her composure.

He smirked at her. She noticed his cock was beginning to harden.

He beckoned her closer, “Come.”

She took slow steps toward him as he watched her every move with unblinking eyes. Irulan came to stand in front of him, raising her chin. “What do you want from me, Feyd-Rautha?” she demanded.

His grin only widened. “I want you to satisfy your husband. You didn’t like seeing me with my concubines? Then you do the job. Let me have all of you. Let me ruin you.”

Irulan stared down at him, seemingly unaffected by his words, although her insides were burning. However, he seemed to be seeing right through her. Neither of them said another word, both staring at one another, waiting for who will star first.

Irulan couldn’t handle it any longer, not when his cock was now as hard as ever and her own arousal was practically running down her inner thighs.

She leaned down and lifted her skirt just enough so she could straddle him. She didn’t sit on top of his cock, only the outside of their nether regions was touching. As she wore no undergarments, she could feel that his flesh was hotter than hers, almost feverish.

The smile disappeared from Feyd-Rautha’s face, giving space for a deeply focused expression. She moved her hips to tease his swollen cock and he hissed from the stimulation, grabbing her hips instinctively and hoisted your skirt enough to have her bared for his eyes only.

“Don’t tease me, princess,” he groaned. That was enough for Irulan. She lifted her hips and sank down onto him, eliciting a prolonged moan from the both of them. She was still sore and he was huge, but she soon found a comfortable rhythm that brought waves of pleasure to her core. Feyd-Rautha watched her intensely with his black eyes, but when your thighs began to give out and the strain on your muscles seemed like too much, he took over, thrusting into her from below, grabbing her by the back of her neck to bring her lips to his. He kissed her like a starved man, all the while untwining the braid she had quickly put together before running off to him. When her hair was freed, he sunk his fingers into it—she remembered him giving special attention to her hair last night too. It must’ve been one of the things his concubines couldn’t give him.

Whereas Irulan’s moves were slow and sensual, Feyd-Rautha set a vicious pace, one she couldn’t catch up with, so she let him grab her arms by the wrists and pull them behind her, taking full control of her entire body. She moaned and mewled on top of him, her breathing growing labored. She was on the edge of her climax, but stopped herself from coming, watching as Feyd-Rautha’s expression grew violent as he neared his own end. And just as he was about to come, she told him, “You won’t lie with your concubines anymore. They won’t entertain you and you won’t give them special treatment. If you want release, you will come to me and me only, is that clear, Feyd-Rautha?”

His face twisted from pleasure and Irulan leaned in closer, touching his forehead with her own as he thrust into her the last few times.

“Yes, yes, anything you want, my wife…” he answered breathlessly.

Satisfied with her work yet careful not to show him, Irulan pulled away from him and his cock, standing back up and fixing her skirt. Feyd-Rautha, still heaving, reached out his head as if to touch the fabric of her dress or the ends of her hair, but she had already found her way to the door, leaving him all alone.

As she walked down the dark corridors, Irulan was lost in thoughts of the scene that just passed between them, and so she didn’t notice someone lurking for her in the shadows. Three figures then stood in her way, and even though it was dark, the three concubines of Feyd-Rautha were hard to miss. They were hissing at her, fury evident in their abnormal features as they lunged at her, baring their black teeth. Before Irulan managed to scream or shout for help, one of them forced her mouth shut with her hand, the other grabbed her by the hair and held her hands down, and the third gripped her right hadn’t, exposing her forehearm. Irulan saw the sharp silver blade glinting in the low light. Her eyes widened and she squirmed, trying to free herself, but to no avail.

The concubine brought the blade to Irulan’s veins and spat in her face, “Na-Baron is ours,” before slicing her flesh.

Unimaginable pain reddened Irulans’s vision. She screamed and thrashed until all strength abandoned her, and, sensing that, the concubines released her, letting her fall to the ground. When her head hit the ground, Irulan was drowned in darkness.

Irulan regained consciousness in an unfamiliar room with an never-before-seen face in front her and a dull ache in her arm.

She blinked awake and tried to sit up in bed, but the man before her held her down softly. “Easy, princess. You’re very hurt.”

Irulan then noticed that the man was slicing a needle through her already mutilated flesh. The white thread that sealed her wound contrasted with the red-brown blood. She was sleepy and her mind was working very slowly, but all sleepiness evaded her once she heard a voice outside the room shout, “Where’s my wife!”

No one was there to answer Feyd-Rautha’s command, and they needn’t be—a moment later, he burst through the door like a sandstorm.

His eyes found her lying form immediately as he strode forward until he was right beside her. There was no smile on his face, nothing but ferocious outrage. His black gaze eyed the wound in her arm.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, his voice low with rage.

She scoffed. “I won’t tell you. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Who,” he repeated.

Irulan narrowed her eyes at him. “They must have been listening behind the door as we… spoke.”

That was enough for him. After another moment of intense eyeing, Feyd-Rautha turned around and left. No sooner had the man that must’ve been her healer finished stitching up her wound that her husband was back.

“Come with me,” he said, reaching out his hand for her to take. “It won’t be far.”

She took it, despite how tired she felt.

Feyd-Rautha led her to a room with black walls and floor, and she noticed the three women lined up with their heads bowed low, their white skin glinting in the black darkness like fog. He made Irulan stand in front of them as he took his knife from the table besides and then came back to her.

“Which one of them hurt you?” he asked.

Irulan swallowed. “If I tell you, next time they will surely kill me.”

Without taking his eyes off her, without even moving—Irulan only saw his right hand slice the air swiftly—but it didn’t slice air, it slid the first concubine’s throat. Blood poured from the wound as the woman grasped at her throat in panic, trying to desperately stop the bleeding. She fell to the ground with a thud—the same way Irulan had mere hours ago.

“Was it this one?” Feyd-Rautha asked, never letting his eyes leave her.

Irulan shook her head. “She held my mouth shut.”

The other two bowed their heads even lower, visibly shivering.

The fury that overcame him was more visible by the way his muscles twitched under his skin. The second kill was just as smooth and barely visible, the same scenario repeating itself—Feyd-Rautha sliced the throat of the concubine and she fell dead.

“This one?”

“She grabbed me by my hair,” Irulan said.

He took a step toward the last of his pets, not sparing her a single glance, and the woman fell to her knees before him, “Na-Baron, I did nothing wrong, I’m begging you, she’s lying!”

Feyd-Rautha looked down at his concubine with nothing but wrath in his eyes. Then looked back up at Irulan.

“Did this one draw your blood?”

She swallowed, then nodded, watching with wide eyes as Feyd-Rautha’s blade sank into the left eye of the concubine. She screamed as blood poured from it, trying to stop the flow just like the other two before her. He pulled the blade out and repeated the process on the other eye. Then, more driven by a wish to end this as soon as possible rather than a sentimental feeling of mercy, he slit her throat, ending the third life.

Irulan watched in awe at the three bodies at her feet but Feyd-Rautha’s presence was the only one that demanded attention.

She looked up at him. He stepped closer, taking her face in his palm while the other hand held the bloody knife.

“I promised you, wife,” he said. “Anything you want.”

THE END

[saintescuderia]

cross my heart (pt. 1)

in terms of positive thinking, shibuya gave us more sukuna content so here's this -

AKA - the story of how you were sent on a mission to kill none other than ryomen sukuna. things get a little more complicated when you end up saving his life. more than once.

unedited (i was too excited)

1 / bored idiots

And in the next line of stupid decisions the higher ups have made, they now decided they wanted to kill Ryomen Sukuna.

Which was fine. If they wanted to be stupid, that was between them and their stupidity. However, you liked to think that you were not stupid. Kill Sukuna? The Sukuna? Yeah, good luck. No amount of training would ever be worth matching that. You had once heard him set fire to an entire village by snapping his fingers because he was bored.

Bored.

Just like you currently were in this meeting that had been called for a discussion as to how they would carry out their next stupid decision to kill the very man they were supposedly calling King. Fucking idiots.

"It's gone too far! He has doubled his tax. And I've just had three women fall pregnant with child!" One man slapped his palm on the table. "Let's see the King of Curses try running a business!"

The image of Ryomen Sukuna counting stock and calculating cash flow made you want to laugh. Yes, you definitely could picture him hunched over a notebook going over the business accounts.

Then again, considering Kimo's line of work, you wondered about when forcing women into prostitution was considered a business?

"You're sneering again." You heard a whisper beside you and saw the familiar small face of your sister giggling at your side. "Your resting bitch face is raging."

"It's not resting. It's reacting to that fucking idiot." You said, nodding a short bald man who was waving a servant over for more drink. His name was Kami but you referred to mentally address him as such and now considered him Kimo.

As she poured his glass, Kimo unashamedly slapped her behind. She gasped but could do nothing. You felt your fingers curl around the blade at your side. If only Kimo's father was still alive then this idiot would not be considered a Head who makes actively makes you gag.

"You call everyone an idiot." You looked at you sister who spoke and was smiling up at you.

"Because, Eva, everyone acts idiotic." You said. She laughed quietly and shook her head. "By the way, you shouldn't be here." Eva's response was a frown before you shushed her out of the room.

Your kill tally was the only reason you were allowed in these meetings, standing quietly behind sensei as he acted as a Head for his sick uncle. You honestly wouldn't have taken as many jobs if it meant you now had to stand through these meetings. Then again, more jobs meant a better life for your little sister.

Eva's father had run off before she'd been born and when she had been born, your mother had died in childbirth. You then spent your entire life raising Eva - and trying to dissuade her guilt for feeling that she had murdered your mother.

Especially since, between the two of you, you were the real murderer.

"Why not the girl?"

At the mention of you, you finally stepped forward from your usual spot of brooding by the wall. At such a formal meeting with all the family Heads sat discussing such important matters, tradition was important. One dressed accordingly. One acted accordingly. One spoke accordingly.

So when you were called as the assassin to kill Ryomen Sukuna, you expressed your concerns in the appropriate manner.

"Excuse the fuck outta me?" You crossed your arms, feeling more offended by their sheer stupidity by the second. "And did you just refer to me as girl?"

There was a sigh. An older man with a tired smile looked at you. He said your name with a hint of plea in it. You looked at the man you considered your sensei. You called him Oribu for his love of olives and he only person in this room you wouldn't describe as idiotic. Looking at him you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

Then Kimo, the idiot, spoke again.

"When I said girl, I was referring to the younger one." He said, a mouthful of food. "She is much prettier and could perhaps pass as a concubine."

In less than a split second, a few things happened.

The flower on Kimo's dress shirt was sliced cleanly in half. A blade was embedded in the table. Your hand was thrown out. And your Oribu was in stance, blade drawn.

It took a second for the room to process what had happened, that Oribu had deflected your blade - that you had actually drawn a sword at a Head. Kimo looked down at the flower petals that were falling slowly to the table, gravity slowly making its effects known. You slowly stood up from your throwing stance, the sheath at your side very clearly empty and the blade embedded in the table emblazoned with your own signature crest.

Kami finally found it in himself to speak. "Ya! You dare draw a blade at me!" The rage was almost comical. You snorted.

"Yes." You said as if that was the most obvious thing ever. However, your eyes darted over to Oribu-sensei who looked slightly displeased. Sure, he never liked these things - and knew of the lengths you'd go to protect your sister - but he was always about violence being the last option. Which you found quite ironic considering, well, everything.

There was a sound of a chair being pushed back against the ground. You turned to where another man - was his name Raijin? something about thunderstorms - stared down at you. "You will speak accordingly!"

"He literally asked me a question." You said, gesturing at Kimo. There were some displeased sounds from around all the table heads and you sighed. "I'm sorry, if you guys have a problem then how about you go kill the bad guys then. Do you think I care?"

"Heartless bitch." Someone commented.

"Well, at least I'm not worried about getting blood under my fingernails." You sassed back. To make things even funnier, Kami had been in the process of looking at his nails and immediately looked caught out. You snorted a very unladylike snort. "Yeah, thought so."

"Oribu has told me of Eva's training." Raijin spoke. "She is exactly the sort of woman Ryomen Sukuna likes his concubines to be."

You really wanted to know how he knew that. You opened your mouth but thankfully, Oribu bet you to it. "Her skills are promising but... unripe." He said. "Uncle is yet to send her on a mission anyway. It's unlikely she would succeed with her first mission being such a powerful creature."

"Her sister did." Raijin said, curling his lip. You couldn't help the look on your face - was he not aware that his supposed insult was actually a compliment?

Gag.

"Why not she kill Sukuna then?" Kimo chimed in.

Ah.

You understood Raijin's comment. He wanted this for you. Killing Ryomen Sukuna was a promised death wish - and he wanted nothing more for your head since you humiliated him by turning down a proposal. So fucking petty.

Kimo turned in his seat to look you up and down. "You can pass as a cleaner or something."

"And you can pass as a failed abortion."

There was some uproar at your sass - why they were still surprised was beyond you - until Raijin stood up and held his hands in the air. You stared at him with your own disgusted look. This crusty, dusty ass motherf--

"So, all in favour for Y/N to kill Ryomen Sukuna?"

And, of course, they put their hands up in agreement.

Idiots.

[lyrakanefanatic]

tig couple hcs part 2: avery and jameson

——————————————————————————

• they don’t have that similar music tastes, (as avery just kind of listens to the same 3 songs on repeat until she gets sick of them and looks for another 3 songs to listen to 😭☠️) but when they started dating, they started liking each others music. now when she’s in the car, avery tends to play jamesons playlists

• avery very much does not enjoy those events that alisa forces her to go to when her and jamie get in trouble, so jameson ends up being her hype man. he whispers chants in her ear, like “go avery! go avery! you can do this! go heiress!” so that she feels a bit better going (and so that she laughs bc jameson loves her laugh)

• her and jameson definitely did that “you better lock your phone” trend (the one where you scoop your partner up while running)

• they try the weirdest food combos when they get bored with max and xander, bc those two are weird food combo PROS.

• when they first started dating, avery tried to avoid pda. she would kind of avoid kissing him in front of his family ESPECIALLY his brothers because she felt awkward doing it at first. that was until she learned that they really didn’t care and now she’s fine with it

• i already said something like this in one of my other posts a while ago, but when jameson leaves his clothes in averys room and avery tells him, he always says “must be one of your other guys 😪😓😢”.

• because of this ⬆️, another awkward situation emerged at dinner:

• nan: “hey boy, what happened to that nice suit jacket i gave you for your birthday?”

• jameson: “oh, im not sure. maybe i left it in averys room?”

• avery: “oh yeah, you did. there are two on my dresser, so one should be it.”

• jameson, while smirking: “oh, i actually don’t think those are mine. must be one of your other guys that came over.” the table immediately goes quiet as the older residents of the hawthorne house shoot shocked and disgusted looks at avery. avery looks at him with a “really?” expression, and nash and xander, who knew what was going on, were dying laughing. even GRAYSON was smiling.

• jameson then goes into a deep explanation of the joke, and nan yells at him for putting that “poor girl” (avery) through that. he’s now banned from making jokes at the dinner table. 😪

• sometimes jameson sleep talks, and has like, ongoing convos with avery in his sleep. sometimes avery will lead it on bc she finds it funny, (he always asks her random stuff) but most times she just says “go to sleep, jamie” and he goes to sleep right away. (while making this i heard my dad snoring two rooms away 😔 HE IS SO LOUD!!)

• after nash proposed to libby, jameson made a joke before they went to sleep about proposing to avery, and she just laughed it off. but the next morning when she woke up and saw that he was still asleep, she whispered “i would love to get married to you someday” almost to herself, before kissing him on the forehead and snuggling into him. jameson never mentioned afterwards, but he heard what she said.

• avery actually loves the entire toy story saga and watched all the movies with jameson. they get some of libbys baked goods, tons of candy, and watch it. it used to be their alone time where they could snuggle up against each other and share kisses, but then by the time they were rewatching the second movie, xander found out that they watched those movies and busted in. now all the movie nights are jameson, avery….. and xander. ☠️

• avery wears his sweaters and jameson wears her necklaces

• on nights like mothers day, hannahs death date, or even fathers day they usually end the day with a movie while jameson distracts her by whispering sweet nothings in her ear and covering her with kisses 💗💗

• whenever they go to those fancy galas, they pass the time by looking at guests and creating “characters” for them. for example, jameson will look at a balding guy and say “he has bald spots because he was a lab rat for a mad scientist years ago, who used to zap his head with acids”. avery pretends to not like it but she actually does and laughs whenever he makes far fetched assumptions of the guests’ backstories.

• through out the grandest game, when they can’t sleep at night, they gossip about the contestants. yes, even AVERY does. they don’t ever say bad things about them and automatically assume the best, but they talk about tension/fueds between some. they talk about how it might play out, and sometimes jameson makes jokes about two of the contestants dating. yes, he would endlessly gossip about lyra and grayson. ☠️

——————————————————————————

[turbulentscrawl]

Identity(V) Headcanons: Frederick Kreiburg

Frederick's headcanons got a little more...medical than some of the others I've done so far. I'm no expert in this stuff, but I do my best to be comprehensible and respectful where certain disorders have to be mentioned. As always, hope you guys like it!

-Ashes of Memory states that Frederick was diagnosed with ‘psychasthenia’ at some point in his childhood, but this isn’t used as a diagnosis in modern medicine. Instead, it’s a term used to describe a collection of symptoms commonly associated with disorders like OCD. It includes anxiety, obsession, compulsions, depersonalization, nervous ticks, and can even affect one’s memory.

-Personally, I also think he has synesthesia. Frederick mentions colors in relation to music a lot (especially gold), and while this could just be something relating to his other condition, I prefer to take it as literal. It’s part of the reason he was enamored after hearing his father play, why he obsessed with music. Frederick grew up in an onslaught of overwhelming chaos, colors bursting and fading wildly across his senses incomprehensible in his day to day, enhancing his anxiety…but when the recital started there was only the song. One symphony of sound and color, appearing before him in a long, unbroken stream. It was peaceful. And he became obsessed with that peace.

-This also explains his “un-Kreiburg-like skills.” His music is not like what the rest of his family composes because he’s writing it to suit both sound and color. He can perfectly identify pitch and can play most songs entirely “by ear” after hearing them only once or twice, but he’s obsessed with the stream of colors keeping a certain rhythm to them, which doesn’t always lend itself to “traditional” Kreiburg music.

-Frederick’s personality is very affected by the above struggles/disorders. He’s a very kind person at his core, as well as very earnest, but he is plagued by fear, anxiety, and extreme self-criticism. He becomes overwhelmed easily. He is entirely aware of all his struggles, his failures, and wrestles every day with the knowledge that he’s a disappointment to his family. Sometimes his situation brings him to tears, sometimes to destructive wrath.

-Frederick has come to accept his need for appearances, that people mostly like him because of his looks and his familial relations. But on his worst days he can’t even rely on that much because his communication begins to break down. His speech becomes disjointed and frantic, he’s tense and twitchy, a look of horror sinks deep into his face. To protect what remains of his reputation, he hides away during these times.

-When he is with people, he behaves as a gentleman should, albeit a reclusive one. He’s terrified of being judged further, but craves understanding and praise, so he maintains personal distance while remaining remarkably enthusiastic about musical discussion. He’s never told anyone but his family about his diagnosis or his synesthesia. They are both sources of shame for him.

-When at his most anxious, he has a tendency to pull at his hair. Whole clumps of his long hair have been lost to the worst of his fits. He’s not particularly sensitive about any resulting bald spots on his scalp, but he does try to cover them with his normal ponytail style because he knows they would affect people’s attraction to him.

-He despises the sound of dogs barking. Which is a shame, because he does like dogs. Their barking is just burry, red fireworks right in the middle of his vision. It always startles him and makes it impossible to do or focus on anything.

-His love language is Gift Giving, and the “gifts” he gives are, predictably, usually songs. It’s his primary skill, of course, so as far as Frederick is concerned, he has nothing else worth offering besides music made in the name of his loved one. He’d be devastated if these musical gifts weren’t appreciated; Frederick can’t take much more rejection. His favorites Love Languages to receive are Word of Affirmation and Acts of Service. He’s secretly a bit desperate for praise, and any actions you take to support his work or help improve his reputation as a musician are better than gold.

-He likes to match his clothes to the primary colors he sees in the songs he’s performing. During his recitals, he changes coats often.

-He’s a picky eater with a powerful sweet tooth. If he could have it his way, he’d subsist mostly on desserts.

[certifieddilfenjoyer]

Why is Haarlep so different from Raphael - a theory

Hello! Welcome to another theory of mine.

"I am Haarlep. Raphael's personal incubus. Glamoured and transfigured to look like him. I'm a perfect copy(...)"

Hold your horses, sir Wait, they are nonbinary: Hold your horses, noble.

Haarlep states that they are a perfect copy, however there are some major differences in their appearance that could not be caused simply by the visual age difference.*

Haarlep's face has a few major differences:

Lack of darkened skin around the facial hair area (they appear a lot smoother).

The nose is straight and while the tip is shaped similarly, there is no bump across the bridge. They don't even have the cute-angry wrinkles in between the eyes! (Female form has them wrinkles, but the bump is softer)

Maybe it's just me but I was thinking that the upper lip appears to be a bit plumpier.

The face is shorter and because of that, the cheekbones are a lot sharper, Haarlep looks like they had some botox done 💀

The ears appear to be less sharp and shorter (aging hits ears quite hard, but they usually sag and the difference here is with the tip.

Archduchess form does have the roman nose, however the lips are plumpier.

See for yourself below:

And in comparison to Raphael (even to his EA model that has the famous bald spot):

But where is this leading, you may ask?

Well, I am proposing two different perspectives on that:

Haarlep's 'tweaks' point to Raphael's insecurities (a version of theory that my friend @shutexco proposed)

Raphael's devil form resembles MEPHISTOPHELES and he can't stand looking at the actual accurate depiction of his cambion form. Also, if that's the case, take a moment to consider how F-ed up it really is to have Haarlep gifted to him if his father was completely aware of the resemblence. But it would make sense, wouldn't it? Raphael left Cania at some point, but his father made sure he will haunt him all the time.

Have you noticed how Raphael has two portraits of himself that also don't look like him at all?

The second portrait has two horns, so it could be made during the EA, but there is no other similarity.

The first portrait looks like it's wearing some kind of variation of the Helldusk Armor, you can spot the 'Teeth' across the chest, but apart from that and 4 horns, it doesn't look like Raphael at all.

To sum up: the portraits are some kind of a 'vision' of Raphael. For a narcissist he really seems to be avoiding an actual perfect (as in 1to1 accurate) copy of himself.

Also, a few fun facts/smaller theories I'd like to include!

I think he made his own portraits. There are two easels in House of Hope. One behind the Archive (with brushes and cup at the ready and some paint stain spilled below them) and second is on the right hand side of the bed in the boudoir.

Now, the paintings on both easels can be found across Faerun, but the devil portraits are exclusive to HoH and I believe (please fact-check me if you know) that the painting inside Raphael's safe, right above the hoarded treasure, is also exclusive. Raphael is very talented. His diaries are like poetry, full of symbolism, bro is literally a composer, so why not an artist as well? I wouldn't put it past him. And because HoH was made by the head of Mason's Guild, then I guess he had the major influence on the design and I've heard someone say that it's Italian baroque and it's just beautiful.

Here's the Magic the Gathering card of Raphael (I think it was issued in 2022??). It looks more similar to the Statues at House of Hope than the portraits or Haarlep. Oh, btw, I've seen many people saying (mainly on YT and tiktok) that House of Hope is full of Raphael's statues. Not true, those are just cambions

Statues are present not just in HoH but inside Devil's Fee (yes, with both the belt and kneepads)

That's it! Thank you for reading all the way over here, appreciate it so much <3 <3

*Some aging research, specifically for bone structure changes: "As we age we all lose some bone which means that our cheeks flatten, our jaw bone shrinks and our eye sockets get larger. The structure of the face changes so the tissues above the bones will sit differently and so look different." Source "Facial bone loss can lead to retraction of the jawline, which emphasizes jowls and an unstructured neck. Widening eye sockets give your eyes a more sunken appearance and make you look tired. The angle of the bones beneath the eyebrows decreases, which contributes to frown lines on the forehead, droopy eyelids and crow’s feet at the corner of the eyes." Source

So as we can see, Raphael doesn't really suffer from any of those, besides the crow's feet that are imo so gorgeous that I lose my shit, AHFAIHFAJDSKSHA

[lostuntothisworld]

Spaghetti theory time:

The "Luka lying to Ladybug about her secret identity after he was so fired up in Truth only to lie to her in Wishmaker" salt has died down for the most part, but I would like to bring it back up.

I'm gonna do you all a favor and copypasta the transcript below, because I know nobody is going to rewatch the episode.

Marinette: I'm sorry about earlier. There were mosquitoes on the boat, I thought we needed some insect repellent but the drug store was closed so I had to- Luka: Shh, listen, the song of the water. If you listen carefully at this very spot under the bridge, you'll hear a melody. (They listen to the river and smile at each other.) You know, I never knew my father and my mom would never bring herself to tell me. So when I just couldn't deal with it all, I would take refuge here and the melody of the water would console me. What about you, Marinette? Where do you go when you disappear? Marinette: Uh- Luka: You tell me, I'll accept it. If you're still in love with Adrien, I'll understand. I won't be jealous you know. Marinette: That's not it, not at all. Luka: Whatever it is, I just want it to be the honest truth. Marinette: The truth, Luka… is the only thing I can't tell you.

Then we get shocked Luka. He get's akumatized/amokized, and the scene continues:

Shadow Moth: Truth, I am Shadow Moth. I'm giving you the power to force people to tell you their most sacred secrets. Luka: (struggling against it) Truth needs to be shared, not taken by force, Shadow Moth! Marinette: (shocked what he just said) Uh! Shadow Moth? No! Luka, please resist, I am so sorry! Shadow Moth: Why should you resist when she doesn't trust you? Luka: Marinette does trust me! Marinette: I do! Of course I do! Shadow Moth: If she trusted you, then she would tell you the truth! (Upon hearing this, Luka becomes shocked, so he kneels.) Accept my power and you will know everything. And all I ask of you in return is to expose Ladybug and Cat Noir's little secrets. Luka: (succumbing) Run, Marinette! 

...

Luka does NOT want to force the truth out of Marinette. He tells her to run! And it's very much implied it triggered a traumatic past when his mother wouldn't tell him who his father was. What if his mom used the exact phrasing of "The truth is the one thing I can't tell you," when things got bad? If there's one thing Miraculous is good at is shocking the audience with traumatic backstories. I have my own theories as to what Luka and Juleka's traumatic backstories are... And are we really going to victim blame Luka for not being able to resist, especially when resisting Gabemoth and breaking akumatization was not actually known to be something that can be done at this point? Onto Wishmaker:

Lots of people are upset that Luka lied to Marinette at the end of Wishmaker with regards to hers and Chat's secret identities. They want Marinette to be angry with him, and for Luka to face consequences. Lying is supposed to be bad, isn't it? And Luka got akumatized into a villain who was dead set on finding the Truth, and he just lied to her about it. Inexcusable! Which is a valid interpretation if you take it at face value.

Now let's fast forward to Migration, and a little theory I've had since the episode aired: Secret identities and masks are a metaphor for being queer. Let me explain the metaphor in more detail: by rewinding back to Wishmaker and the metaphor presented to us then.

In Wishmaker, child Alec was bullied for his big hair, which he was very proud of. So he shaved it all off to fit in with what society wanted him to be. His akumatized form had a bald cap, and in the end Alec decides to "live his truth," (Astruc's words not mine), and essentially wear a big wig and become a drag queen. Iconic.

Oh yeah, and his nightmare in the season 5 finale was his father shaving off his hair.

Gonna have to link this shitpost here, just for an interesting comparison.

(It's interesting to note that both Griffe Noire and alternate Adrien have partially shaved heads, and should be included closer to the bald end of the chart in the shitpost)

Anyway, it's a bit of an unwritten rule that you don't out another person, even if you know they are queer. You have to wait for them to come to you with this reveal. It's sensitive information, and could potentially be extremely dangerous for the person being outed. A similar parallel to being a superhero with a secret identity.

Using this logic, it's not surprising the animators made Chat surprised when Luka detransformed in front of him in Ephemeral even tho he had a front row seat to Luka in Miracle Queen.

Onto the next scene of interest:

Marinette: If I tell you, things will never be the same between us again. (shakes her head) It'll mess up everything, maybe even destroy it. Alya:(voice breaking) Marinette, I'm your very best friend. Marinette: And I… I'm Ladybug.

I was actually shocked with this scene back the first time I watched it. Yes, the reveal, but also how everything in it is presented. To the dialogue, to Marinette's reasonings and how it'll mess up everything between the girls, and how everything will change and be destroyed, to Alya's oddly somber reaction to finding out her favorite superhero is her best friend, and then the subsequent hug.

It's framed as a coming out scene.

So let's circle back to Luka lying to Ladybug back in Wishmaker, and keeping that secret until Migration. His choices there make a whole lot more sense with a queer lens.

Don't believe me? Remember, Migration (the episode where Luka's lies and secrets are brought to light), is the episode that Luka shoves Adrien in a closet and he falls out of the closet as Chat Noir.

Those bedroom eyes at Luka sure do make a whole lot more sense here.

[willyoubemycherryy]

❁𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖...𝕓𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕚𝕘𝕖𝕣’𝕤 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕊𝕌ℙ𝔼ℝ-ℙℝ𝕆𝕋𝔼ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕍𝔼 𝕘𝕗??

@ my bestie lil miss westie(^‿^✿) @eymie

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤🜚ミ★𖤐✬.• 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐨✊🏽, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐱 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨, 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐈𝐌 ⚠︎︎MDNI⚠︎︎

“𝑺𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒅𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈...“

You honestly don’t know how he let people try him.

Tiger doesn’t even look like the pushover type. Tattoos, wild green hair, stoic face and stone jawline, 6 foot fucking 2, ripped jeans and muscle tees. He rarely even looked approachable. Punk rock and pissed off.

But… turns out he’s a sweetheart. Gentle eskimo kisses, slow kisses, helpful with the most menial tasks. Plus the adoring way he looks at you, to how tender and calmly he treats you; even when you’re upset…so it pisses you off when you see short, half court hairline, bald spot eyebrow ugglies talking down to him.

Like now when you look up from your seat in the car, waiting for him to come out of the gas station just to see some dirty old crypt keeper yelling in his face while your poor sweet darling Tiger just nods and looks uncomfortable. You do not hesitate to get out the car and march over there in your Chanel heels to stomp on fucking business bitch.

Tiger hears a door slam and looks up. Paling once he sees that it’s you…and that you do not look happy. He knows how this is going to end before it even starts as you stand in front of him, pushing the angry man back with one of your pretty manicured fingers.

“Who the fuck are you talking to?! Because I KNOOOOW it’s not him!” You’re yelling off the bat and the man is red in the face as he yells back,

“So what if I am! He needs to learn how to apologize after he bumps into people!”

Oh bitch.

“Are the people in the room with us??? Because all I see in front of me is the ghost of Father Time’s ashes.” Tiger bites his lip to stifle the laugh that bubbles up at your jab. Feisty as ever.

“Why you prissy little bit-“, you cut him off before he can even attempt to try it.

“Even if he completely knocked your ass over, he wouldn’t have to apologize for SHIT but I’ll tell you what,” voice low, blood hot, rushing so fast you look downright murderous as you stand chest to chest with the man.

“Talk to him like that again…and I’ll kick your nuts so far up your asshole that they’ll be acorns when they come out your mouth. I’ll turn you and every witness around into stains and mail them to your wife and kids.” He gulps at the dead look on your face and quickly shifts his eyes to Tiger.

“So, apologize right now and walk away from us before I decide to really rock your world.” You feel Tiger stiffen at the same time the asshole does before he mumbles a swift apology, he’s jumping into his car and peels off just as fast.

Grabbing Tiger’s hand you lead him to the car, to your door so he can open it and after he gets in himself, he looks at you. Amused.

“You’re a little bully? Y’know that?”, chuckling at you as you pout.

“You don’t always need to come to my rescue. Some people are just assholes and that’s okay”. He mumbles, pulling you from your seat to straddle his lap.

You roll your eyes before you lean down to kiss him languidly. Capturing his top lip between yours then his bottom lip, both your lips alternating with light sucks and you tilt your head and lick the seam of his mouth, making him moan as your tongues caress each other. Warm puffs of air wash over your faces as you kiss him senseless.

Heat licks up your body, a wet moan bursting out when you feel him aggressively suck on your tongue, his hand on the back of your head holding you in place. Reaching up you pull lightly at his hair until he breaks away with a smack and you peck his lips a few more times to calm down.

“Some people are assholes, you’re right. But if they think they can be an asshole to you on my watch? They’re dead wrong.” panting against his mouth as you give him your verdict.

“Now, let’s go home,” you whisper against his lips.

“I’m wet”.

Grinding down on him for emphasis then swinging back down to your seat to watch his reaction.

Tiger looks down at where you were previously sat and notices the dark spot on his jeans, and looking back at you pupils completely blown.

“Oh fuck”, he groans. Hissing when you start palming him through his ripped jeans.

Squealing as Tiger speeds off so fast he almost leaves the tires.

[dilf-in-peril]

CM Punk vs Dominik Mysterio feud (preview)

Punk: Kid, I suggest you get out of my way. I've beaten better Mysterios than you before. [author's note: this is a reference to Punk defeating Dom's father Rey Mysterio several times].

Dom: Uh, whatever, you're like so old and... [he runs around Punk and points at the back of his head] ...balding!

Crowd: [gasps]

Punk: Son, to bald is a privilege of age, and I'm blessed to have come this far to experience it. If you don't cut it right now you, however, won't be so lucky. Don't test me, I'm not as patient as your dad.

Dom: Oh, yeah. [rubs Punk's bald spot] Whatcha gonna do about it, old man?