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sea-lanterns · 5 months ago

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THE PURGE

synopsis: (slasher! AU) a group of purgers break into your home.

featuring: arlecchino, columbina, sandrone, signora

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dom characters, mentions of blood, vague descriptions of murder, there is a body, mentions of weapons, home invasion, masked se.x, five.some, org.y, transfem! columbina (she has a di.ck), strap ons, oral (both reader and character receiving), face sitting, fing.ering, slight exhibitio.n, may be ooc, not proofread.

art credits: high rise invasion.

Unloading the last of your groceries from the car, you closed the trunk and began walking towards the front entrance of your house. It was a somewhat chilly, somewhat warm day, March 21st to be exact. While the weather was probably enjoyable to those outside of your country, today was going to be a day of misery to many. From March 21st to March 22nd, The Purge will take place; a twelve hour period in which all crime including murder was going to be legal.

You weren’t exactly sure why your government decided to mandate such a brutal “holiday” but unfortunately as someone who didn’t participate in the Purge, this made your life a lot harder than usual. You had to take extra precaution throughout the year to not make any enemies in your life, even going as far as to shut yourself off from having any friends or close family.

‘Just twelve hours…I’ve done it several times before, I can do it again.’ You told yourself, unlocking the door to your house. ‘I’ll have to set up the security system again. Only three hours until the Purge.’

“Hey neighbor!” You heard a familiar voice call, causing you to look over at your neighbor who was perched against his fence. “Three hours until the Purge, huh?”

“Ahaha…yeah.” You were getting nervous. It was never a good idea to bring up the Purge with anyone.

“Hope you’re prepared. Lots of psychos out there who have access to the most dangerous weapons available. I even saw a woman with a chainsaw last year. Had a leather mask and everything.”

“Yeah…” you smiled, but honestly you just really wanted to get in your house.Your neighbor –although seemingly friendly– always gave you the creeps and you tried your best to be on his good side no matter what.

“Well…Hope for the best for you during this Purge!” He smiled unnervingly wide, making you shiver and fumble to open your door. “Yep! You too!” You called out quickly, shutting the door behind you as quickly as possible. You locked the door immediately and carried your groceries to the kitchen, where you proceeded to double check every exit of the house.

You went through the yearly ritual. Double checking the doors and barricading them with heavy furniture, locking every single window and drawing the blinds (you would activate the security systems later), as well as making your way down to the basement to make sure all your weaponry was secured.

…And by weaponry, you really only meant the small handgun you kept in a safe down there. You weren’t a super strong person by any means, so a handgun was probably your best suited weapon when it came to defending yourself. However, the handgun was only used as a last resort, so luckily you’ve never had to use it before on any of the previous Purges. Hopefully this year you won’t have to use it still.

You grabbed the handgun and made sure it was loaded before making your way upstairs. Due to being a member of the upper class, you had managed to reinforce your home with a special security system used for keeping your home safe during the Purge. Though it was only three hours before the Purge started, you weren’t taking any chances and activated it now.

You watched as every door and window in your house became protected beneath a large metal shutter, turning on your security cameras so you could watch whatever was happening outside from the safety of your home. You nestled into the cozy chair of your desk and mentally prepared yourself for another twelve hours of manslaughter you would have to endure.

You watched from your phone as the infamous warning for the Purge began to play. The alarm never failed to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end, the long list of rules flying over your screen as you peeked through your security cameras. So far, the only things you could see were a bunch of hooligans setting fire to a trashcan in some random alleyway. Okay, not bad. You expected a few arsonists in your neighborhood anyway…

You grabbed a bag of chips from your snack stash and opened it, continuing to watch as you stuffed your face with food like you were binging your favorite TV show. Though the Purge was a very scary time, it never directly harmed you through all the years you survived…

At least, you thought.

For the next two hours, you simply watched in the comfort of your own bedroom while people in your neighborhood were being slaughtered left and right. You winced when you watched a poor victim get a machete to the face by some woman in a hockey mask. Oof…that’s unfortunate. You heard another scream from afar as another victim got stabbed repeatedly with a kitchen knife by a woman wearing a ghost mask. Hm…why did they look familiar? You wonder if you’ve seen them before…

You took a sip from your drink and laid back, before nearly jumping out of your skin upon spotting a group of Purgers on your porch. Despite being masked, you could tell from their figures that they appeared to be women, with four of them in total all staring at you through the security camera.

‘Oh…shit.’ You felt your heart sink as you waited for them to say something, anything. You hadn’t expected any Purgers to actually bother you tonight, as the most that Purgers would do is knock over your trash cans and maybe graffiti your garage door.

One of the Purgers —a woman wearing a dove-themed mask— stepped forward and smiled at the camera. She raised a delicate hand, before ringing the doorbell and speaking into the camera.

“Hellooooo~ Is this (Reader)’s residence?” She sang beautifully, toying with the ends of her hair. You tried to figure out her appearance to see if she was familiar to anyone you knew or talked to, but you don’t recall ever meeting a woman with black hair and bright pink streaks.

You stayed quiet, hoping that they would just assume you couldn’t hear them and move on. This however, didn’t work as the group of women were persistent.

“Hellooooo~ I know the cutie is in there…” The dove-masked women cooed, ringing your doorbell again before one of the other Purgers got impatient. A taller, blonde woman wearing a moth-themed mask grumbled and raised her weapon, “It’s no use. Let’s just find a weak spot and break in.”

“Nooo! That’s so barbaric, we must treat a woman gently.”

“We are quite literally, purging her home.” Another woman chimed in, this time a short woman with beige-colored hair wearing a doll mask.

“Yes, but I would like her to respond before we break in.” The dove-mask pouts.

“Enough.” Finally, the fourth woman spoke up, her posture and height intimidating as she stepped to the front. This time it was a woman wearing a harlequin mask, her gaze piercing through the camera. “We know you are listening, (Reader). It isn’t polite to keep your guests waiting.”

She smirked at the camera, as if edging you to press the call button and respond. You felt as if your blood was being drained from your body, a morbid feeling of death looming over you like a cloud. You had no choice, if you didn’t respond they would just try and break in anyway, so perhaps it would be wise to try and convince them not to?

You did not think that was plausible, but Purgers were still human. Maybe they will be human just for you…

“C-Can I help you?” Fuckkkkk you did not mean to sound like a timid fast food worker working at the Drive Thru. You mentally cursed yourself as you watched the other four women smile at your compliance.

“There’s her cute voice!” The dove-mask exclaimed excitedly. “I was worried some other Purgers may have gotten to you already…”

“Can I help you?” You stated again firmly, wanting them to leave as soon as possible. “If you’re looking to rob my house, I’m afraid I don’t have anything of value.”

“Oh…sweetheart,” the harlequin-mask chuckled, sliding her hand across the handle of her bloody ax. “You’re in there.”

Oh great. Yeah why bother spending the Purge robbing stuff that is actually useful to you, when you can murder people instead. Genius.

“…Okay, I know what you are implying, but I beg of you not to kill me! I promise that after the Purge is over I will compensate for you all somehow. Whether it’d be money or anything else you’d like, I’ll do it!”

“Open those ears of yours, girl. We want you, not your house.” The moth-mask tsked, a bit of annoyance present on the edge of her voice. “We are coming in whether you like it or not. As long as you are inside, we will get in too.”

“…No need to be so mean, Signora.” You heard the dove-mask huff, folding her arms. “Just hold tight, baby. We’re coming to find you~”

You let out a small, panicked squeak of terror and cut the mic, standing up from your seat and making your way to your drawer to check on the handgun you had stashed away. You couldn’t believe that this was the year you would have to use it, and your adrenaline was pulsing like crazy.

‘All loaded’ you mentally prepared yourself for the worst, taking deep breaths and walking back to your computer monitors that displayed the cameras. You let out another panicked squeak when you saw that the Purgers had left your front porch, now scattered around your property doing god knows what.

“Why this year of all years?” You whined, keeping your handgun close to you as you kept looking through the monitors. Okay, okay, they were just circling your house, no biggie. Their weapons appeared to be of class 1 only, so it would be next to impossible for them to break down your security systems.

Really, though you were on edge, you should be relatively safe so long as the power doesn’t—

Almost as if your fate was being toyed at the hands of a God, your lights suddenly went out and the sound of your metal shutters started coming up. Oh…you were fucked now.

‘…I am dead.’ You wanted to scream, but knew better as it was time for survival. It was every woman for herself, no beating around the bush. Logistically you weren’t sure if you could take out four Purgers on your own, but if you were going to die tonight you were going to die fighting ugly.

You heard one of your windows shatter and flinched when you heard footsteps now roaming the downstairs of your house. Okay, you got this. You technically have an advantage as you have a firearm and they don’t know where you are, you should play this safe.

You held your breath and stealthily made your way downstairs, holding the gun. You saw the broken window in your living room, swallowing thickly before looking around to see if there was anyone around. Your eyes suddenly landed on a bloody trail that looked as if a body had been dragged through your house. Did they just kill someone?

You suddenly heard a thud behind you and whirled around quickly, only to accidentally let out a gasp when you saw the dead body of your neighbor just lying there on your kitchen floor. You managed to hold in a scream, but it was no use when you felt strong arms hold you from behind, a yell escaping your throat as you felt one of the Purgers’ grip on you.

“Mm…not a screamer…quite the silent one, aren’t you?” You heard a rough, raspy voice as the woman behind you grabbed your gun and tore it away with ease. Just how strong was she?! Your breath hitched when you felt the sharp end of a knife press against your throat, her voice humming with pleasure. “I like quiet girls.”

From your peripheral vision you saw that it was the Purger with the harlequin mask, her hair mostly white with a few streaks of black, yet another person you were not familiar with. Footsteps then entered the kitchen from the thick fog of darkness, a giggle leaving another one of the Purgers.

“You caught her! Heh, I guess you won this one, Arle~!” It was the Purger with the dove-mask, her cute and feminine voice not matching her appearance at all as her white dress was covered in blood. “I want to pet her!”

“Wash your hands, Columbina.” Another voice came, this time it was the doll-masked Purger who came walking out of the darkness. “I don’t want you getting blood all over her. She’ll stink.”

“A little blood won’t hurt her, Sandrone.”

You whimpered when the woman named “Columbina” walked closer to you, her sadistic smile present as she ran her fingers across your cheek. You would flinch away if not for the harlequin mask —you believe she was called Arle?— holding you in place, her muscles tightening around you and preventing you from squirming.

“Ah…how cute!” Columbina cooed. “I almost feel bad for scaring her, she looks like she’s about to cry.”

“She looks prettier that way.” Came a deeper, more mature voice, as the moth-masked woman —Signora, if you remembered correctly— came into view. You gulped when Signora strutted over to you and took your chin in her hand, admiring you from behind her mask and turning your face to look at all your angles. “Loosen your grip a bit, Arlecchino. The girl looks like she’s about to pass out from blood circulation.”

Arlecchino let out a titular hum. “And why would I do that? If I let her go, she can run off.”

“Not with us here. We all can catch her quite easily.” Sandrone said matter-of-factly.

“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt.” Arlecchino leaned down and whispered gravely into your ear. “I don’t recommend running, little one. All four of us can hunt you down quite easily, and if you ran out into the open during the Purge, well…”

She chuckled and playfully blew on your ear. “Someone else might get to you before us.”

Your body involuntarily shivered and you felt the back of your ear grow hot. Upon seeing how much of an impact she had on you, Arlecchino smirked and carefully let go of you.

You should run. In fact, you weren’t sure why you were staying in place surrounded by these murderous women. Every instinct and sense of logic in your brain was telling you to make a run for it, but another part of you knew that it was fruitless to even make it out of your house.

“You know, you should be thanking us.” Signora said coldly. “Without us here, you probably would’ve been murdered by that neighbor of yours.”

“Wh-What?”

“Oh! She speaks…” Columbina giggled. “Believe it or not, we found him messing around with some circuit box in your yard. Looks like he was the one who knocked out the power to kill you himself.”

Your eyes landed on the body of your neighbor laying on the floor. His eyes still wide open like he was stuck in time, lips parted like was in the middle of screaming before meeting his bloody demise. “Of course…we took care of him for you! Wouldn’t want our pretty girl to get hurt.”

Columbina smiled and kicked his body away like it was nothing, looking up at you like they had just done a great thing. You kept looking between the Purgers and the dead body of your neighbor, unable to cope with the fact that this would be the first Purge where you might end up like another body bag.

“…Is this where I get killed now?” You laughed weakly, cold sweat dripping down your face. “I…I’m not sure what else to do at this point, get on my knees and beg for my life?”

“Ooh. I like the kneeling and begging part.” Sandrone comments bluntly. Meanwhile, the other women chuckle at your pathetic display, with Arlecchino pulling you towards her and murmuring in your ear.

“Oh, we aren’t interested in hurting you. At least not that much.” She suddenly slid her hands up your stomach and towards your breasts, a gasp leaving your lips when she fondled them through your shirt. ”…Soft.”

“Easy now, Arlecchino. She hasn’t accepted yet.” Signora hums, gently pulling Arle’s eager hands away from your chest. Arlecchino slips out a small growl of dissatisfaction, but pulls away anyway to comply with Signora’s requests. Despite how refined Arlecchino seemed to be, you could tell she was a woman of a lot of restraint, and she had been itching to feel you up despite her calm demeanor.

“If it wasn’t obvious by Arlecchino’s…desires,” Signora comments, stroking your face, “We want your body, but not in the way that you think.”

“You’re just so pretty…especially when your bottom lip wobbles in fear,” Columbina whispers. “How could we not want you this way?”

Oh…oh.

Now you know why they haven’t killed you yet.

“Look at her face, all dumb and bewildered.” Sandrone comments, the faintest of grins appearing on her face as she took in your confused expression.

“What do you say, let us have some fun with you?” Arlecchino purrs from behind, making you shiver in anticipation and a little bit of curiosity.

“…I suppose.” You said softly, a little hesitant to agree.

“Oh my, what a promiscuous thing she is,” Signora comments, a sly smile making its way to her lips. “Wanting to take all four of us at the same time, what a whore.”

“Easy now, Signora. She can’t help how curious she is.” Columbina smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Arle~ Be a dear and carry the poor lamb upstairs. The dead guy is killing the mood.”

“Of course.” Arlecchino grinned wolfishly and took you in her arms, throwing you over her shoulder like it was nothing while going up the stairs. You could only watch helplessly as the three other women followed after you, smiling at how utterly pathetic you looked while being carried by Arlecchino with one arm.

…You weren’t sure how you got up to this point. One moment you were almost pissing your pants in fear, and the next you were suddenly thrown into your bed and surrounded by four Purgers. All of them stared down at you with a look of pure joy in their eyes, practically ravishing you on the bed with just their gaze alone.

Surprisingly, it was Sandrone that made the first move. For as quiet as she was, the woman crawled on top of you and grabbed your face for herself, pulling you into a kiss.

“Oh my! I didn’t expect Sandrone to be so eager…” Columbina giggled. Meanwhile, in the corner of your eye; you could see Arlecchino unzipping her pants and Signora taking off her gloves.

You couldn’t watch them for long, however; as Sandrone forcefully pushed you back and shoved her tongue down your mouth, turning the kiss into a more seductive dance of tongues. The doll-masked woman moaned at the taste of you, pulling you in closer to her as she aggressively pushed her hands up your shirt.

“Mm…what a sloppy kisser. I could tell you’ve never had another woman in your mouth before.” Sandrone pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your tongue with hers. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that for you.”

“Arle, no need to be so impatient. She’s still on the bed.” You heard Signora gently scold Arlecchino and looked over to see what she was doing. The harlequin woman was gritting her teeth and tugging her trousers off as fast as she could, the base of a harness and what looked to be a crimson-colored strap peeking through the gap of her zipper.

Oh…they were prepared for this.

“Hey. Don’t look at her, look at me.” Sandrone sounded annoyed and gripped your face to look at her again, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Pfft. Sandrone is getting jealous.” You felt the bed space behind you dip, and in the midst of making out with Sandrone, you felt Columbina’s lithe and petite body encircle yours. “Let’s see how good you taste.”

Columbina’s lips latched onto the back of your neck, sucking and nibbling on your skin hard enough to leave a few bruises. The choked whimpers you let out made the dove-mask and doll-mask moan with pleasure, Sandrone pulling you more against herself while Columbina grinded her hips from behind.

As Sandrone’s hands fondled your breasts under your shirt, you felt something small yet hard growing under Columbina’s dress. It was clear the two women were getting heavily turned on, with how Sandrone was starting to tug off your shirt and Columbina grinding faster against you.

“Let’s put that sloppy tongue to use.” Sandrone comments bluntly, lowering you down against the bed as she raises her dress to pull off her panties. Columbina takes her position between your legs, pulling your pants off and eagerly wanting to stuff her face in your cunt. “No teeth now. Try to be a good girl.” Sandrone slides her panties off and spreads her legs over your awaiting mouth, using her fingers to give you quite the show of her sweet pussy glistening with juices. The doll-masked woman didn’t wait for another second and took her place at her rightful seat, letting you taste the sweet tang of her cunt smothering your lips.

Meanwhile, Columbina was eagerly pulling your own panties down with her hands, her tongue —which was freakishly long— swiped at her bottom lip the moment she saw your bare entrance. “Mm…Gotta make sure you’re wet enough to take Arle’s strap.” She whispered, parting your legs gently –though her nails were digging into your thighs– and licking a long stripe across your clit.

“Nnnh–!” You moaned into Sandrone’s own clit, causing her to buck her hips needily. “Fuck…her tongue feels so good.”

“I can only imagine,” Columbina coos, smothering her face deeper and darting her hot tongue out quickly. Her hands trailed down to her dress and began lightly jerking herself off while she ate you out, moaning into your thighs as she ravished your insides. You hadn’t expected to be double teamed so easily, but you didn’t mind, eating out Sandrone and tasting her folds more thoroughly while Columbina masturbated to the taste of you.

“Are you– mmppgh…guys ready?” Sandrone moans out sweetly, riding your face harder as she looks back at Arlecchino and Signora. Both women had stripped out of their festive Purger outfits, with Arlecchino wearing nothing but a thick, girthy strapon and Signora dressed in the prettiest lingerie you had ever seen. “Oh come on Signora, that’s– fuck, overkill for the Purge, isn’t it?”

“The girl likes it.” Signora tuts, casting you a smirk beneath her mask. “Is she wet enough, Columbina?”

“Nope!” Columbina pulls her head away from between your thighs, her face smeared in all your juices while your thighs are left a trembling mess.

“Liar.”

“She needs to be wetter! Let me eat her out more!”

“Columbina.” Arlecchino finally makes her presence known, crawling over to the bed and pulling her hair back, forcefully pulling her away from your cunt. Columbina whined and gave Arlecchino a glare, not quite finished with eating you out yet. “Arle, I said she needed to be wetter.”

You couldn’t believe you had four women in your bed, all fighting for you during the Purge. You would voice your concerns if not for Sandrone still whining and grinding on your face so roughly. Though the woman was a small, seemingly gentle woman, it was obvious she was one of the more desperate ones of the group.

“Suck on her tits or something. I want her tight cunt swallowing my strap.” Arlecchino growled, possessively stroking your thigh while Columbina huffed. “Fine.” She gave your inner thigh one last bite, causing you to jolt and accidentally make Sandrone come from the sudden movement.

“Oh– nnngh!” Sandrone’s little legs trembled greatly, her orgasm washing over her as she ground her hips more firmly. The sweet, succulent taste of her cum washed down your throat, making your eyes flutter shut in how good Sandrone tasted. “Was her tongue game that good, Sandrone?” Columbina purred, suddenly taking an interest in your mouth. “Yeah, her movements are amateaur at best, but somehow feel really good?”

“Heh, good enough for me.” Columbina proceeded to shove Sandrone off and take her place, dangling her small, yet very eager cock in front of your lips. “Let’s get those pretty lips sucking me off, hm?” She smiled and caressed your cheek before slipping her tip inside, watching with satisfaction as you took all of her length so easily. Meanwhile, Arlecchino and Signora were more occupied on your raw pussy, which was twitching with need after being neglected for too long. Signora cooed and pressed a teasing kiss to your clit, lightly blowing on it before rising to focus on your breasts.

“Poor baby is feeling neglected up here, huh?” She teased, the blonde woman leaning in to lick a long stripe across your tits before latching one nipple in her mouth. She took pleasure in the way your back arched off the bed, the Fair Lady’s tongue swirling around hungrily as her fingers swirled around your clit. “Give me some lube, Arle. I want to finger her for a bit before you start.”

You heard the sound of growl before Arlecchino reluctantly obliged. “Make it quick, I want to fold her into the mattress myself.” She gave Signora a bottle of lube and you could only moan when you felt the Fair Lady’s cold fingers circle your entrance with a slimy substance coating them. When you moaned however, you choked on Columbina’s cock, causing her to groan and buck her hips. “Goodness her throat is…quite tight.”

Signora chuckled at that and pressed her fingers deeper into your entrance, watching with great pleasure as they sunk in with little to no resistance. “And quite wet. You did a good job of loosening her up, Columbina.” Signora proceeded to finger you to see just how far you could take her. Her fingers –which were very long and thin– stretching you out and brushing up against all your tender spots to see which ones would make you squirm.

As this was happening, you felt Columbina’s tiny cock start twitching in your mouth, signaling that she was getting close. Unable to keep your moans to yourself, you stifled a small whine and traced the underside of her shaft with your tongue, watching as her face made all sorts of lewd expressions. “Oh f-fu– I’m gonna come…” she whimpered, riding your face faster before shooting a hot load down your throat and throwing her head back.

“Oh? What a good girl, making two of us orgasm already.” Signora hummed, pulling her fingers out and licking them clean. “I guess it’s time to get to the main event now.”

Columbina tiredly got off you and went to join Sandrone, who was lying blissfully on the bed and watching how you took the final two women. The taste of sex and cum lingered on the back of your tongue, yet you were now hooked. You gazed at Arlecchino who had been waiting impatiently at the foot of the bed, stroking her fat strap and making sure you saw.

“Hold her down, Signora.” Arlecchino commanded, watching as you were manhandled to switch positions. No longer were you lying flat on your back, as you were now sat up against Signora with her chest against your back, bare breasts and stomach pressed against your skin and making you shiver. “Such a good girl, letting us manhandle you as we please…” Signora’s deep, husky voice whispered in your ear, her hands making their way down to your thighs and keeping them spread for Arlecchino. “Have fun with her, Arle.”

Arlecchino didn’t need to be told twice. She crawled on top of you and angled her strap to brush against your entrance. Her eyes narrowed as she saw how needy your pussy was after going through three women, seeing how twitchy and puffy it was. “You three really did a number on her.” She mumbled, brushing the tip of her strap between your folds. When you trembled and let out a gasp at the feeling, both Arle and Signora smirked, with Signora trailing her hands down to pull your folds apart.

“Do your worst. She wants it.”

Arlecchino grinned and sandwiched you against Signora, slowly pushing her strap into you and watching as you were speared open on her faux cock. “Fuck– she’s tight still…” She grumbled, enjoying the way your pussy gripped the silicone so roughly.

“Well you did buy a girthy one.” Sandrone says matter-of-factly.

“I know, but she seems to enjoy it anyways.” Arlecchino laughed wolfishly and continued to spear you open while your cunt struggled to accommodate her girth. You had never felt so full before when taking a toy, letting out sweet whimpers as the smallest beads of tears formed at your lashes.

“Oh, don’t cry…” Signora hummed behind you, licking your tears away. “It’ll feel so good soon~”

The harlequin let out a grunt as she pushed her hips further, watching as her strap finally nestled itself comfortably inside you. She could see the slightest bit of arousal pool at the base of her strap, and that only spurred her on more, starting to thrust at a shallow pace. You threw your head back against Signora’s shoulder, feeling her soft lips press kisses on your tear-dotted face. Arlecchino was just so deep, filling your insides on just her girth alone while she thrusted.

“My…what a peculiar sight.” Arlecchino chuckled, her eyes filled with pure desire as she saw you trembling beneath her. Your legs pathetically squirming yet being held down, clearly overstimulated now that you had to go through the fourth Purger.

“I haven’t even bottomed out yet.” She smiled wickedly, pinning you in place while she nearly folded you in half. If not for Signora sitting there behind you, you were sure she would have pushed you into a full on mating press into the mattress. “Hold her tighter, I’m going all in.”

Every woman in the room watched with interest as Arlecchino took a deep breath and slowly inched herself deeper until your cunt hit her harness. With each inch, you felt a loud whine rip through you, the fat tip of Arle’s strap pushing against your walls and forming a slight belly bulge. “Oh my…” Signora’s eyes glazed over with lust, trailing her hand up to rest atop the bulge. “Look how deep you are in her, Arle.”

“How cuteee!” Columbina cooed. “I wanna give her a belly bulge too!”

“Maybe another time. The poor girl looks as if she’ll pass out after this round.”

All four women leered at you hungrily before Arlecchino pulled out and slammed back in. They took great pleasure in watching Arle ravage your insides, wet smacks filling the air as your expressions formed into even lewder ones. Signora looked the most ecstatic, her hand gently pushing down on the bulge each time Arle bottomed out and thrusted back into you.

The extra force of Signora pushing down on your stomach and Arlecchino fucking you like an animal was almost too much to handle. Each punctuated thrust of Arlecchino’s hips made your poor body bounce rather weakly, your legs scrambling to pull away from Signora’s grip and latch around the harlequin’s waist.

“She’s getting close. I can feel it…” Arlecchino growled, craving to see your cum form a ring around her base. “Come for me…I know you can do it.”

She held onto your ankle and gave it a small kiss, looking down at you as you writhed around like a worm. The way your leg twitched and the tears trailed down your face was enough to make all the girls swoon over you harder. You were just too cute, they were glad they broke in to get you.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you felt your pussy tense up before cumming all over Arlecchino’s strap. The harlequin groaned at the sight and started thrusting even faster, going feral at the sight of your cum drenching her faux cock and helping you ride out your orgasm. The other woman in the room giggled at the sight of you reduced to a whining, babbling mess, Arlecchino finally pulling out and admiring how soaked you made her strap.

“Goddamn…” she grunted, dropping your legs to the bed and watching as you collapsed against Signora, too tired to even keep your eyes open.

“Look at her, barely able to stay awake.” Sandrone comments, gently massaging one of your thighs. “We really did a number on her.”

“Awww, I really wanted to fuck her too.” Columbina pouts, tracing the hickies and bite marks the women left on your body.

“Maybe when she wakes up. For now, let’s let the poor girl rest.” Signora gently caressed your cheek and gave you a small kiss. “Close your eyes, little one. We will keep you safe throughout the rest of the Purge.”

Arlecchino crawls up to join you by your side, pulling you against her while all the other women adjust to snuggle around you, essentially turning this into one big cuddle pile. “Rest well,” Arlecchino whispers huskily, your eyes growing heavier as you bask in the embrace of the four Purgers who broke into your home, yet showed you the best way to celebrate the gory holiday.

“Happy Purge.”

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quasi-normalcy · 3 months ago

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Just struck by the fact that, in 2018, climate scientists posted a dire warning that the Earth had just twelve years to cut greenhouse gas emissions to avoid catastrophic global heating. There were protests; demonstrations. We have now breezed through more than half of that time, with nothing to show for it but millions of more tonnes of CO2 wasted on crypto mining and AI scams. The world nears the sixth mass extinction in its entire geological history and oil production is near record highs.

Struck also by the fact that, in 2020, there were mass protests against police murders of Black people; like, mass mass protests. "Defund the police" they said. "Abolish the police." Police budgets are up. Black people still get murdered by the cops en masse.

And then, this past year, there were massive protests against the genocide in Gaza. There were occupations of university campuses, there were protests outside of the institutions that enabled the mass murder in Palestine. Macklemore did a song about it, a good one. And the genocide continues apace.

On issue after issue, you can see the same pattern. Surely the massacre of children at Sandy Hook would drive sensible gun laws! Nope. Surely outrage over the Rana Plaza collapse in Bangladesh would drive changes in labour practices! Nope. Surely the #Occupy protests in 2011 would drive wealth redistribution! Nope. Surely the BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico would drive better environmental regulations. Nope. Surely the 2008 financial crash would drive regulation of the stock market. Nope. Surely the record protests against the US Invasion of Iraq would move the needle, even a little bit. Nope. Over and over and over again, we see the capitalist elite (let us be frank) raping the world, over and over and over again, we see mass outpourings of rage and disgust in the streets, and over and over and over again, we see them shrug it off, fuck their mistresses, and go golfing.

And then, some guy who may or may not be named Luigi goes and shoots an insurance CEO to death. And suddenly they can't shrug this off. Some companies back down on their plans to make health insurance in the USA even worse; we're treated to panicked editorials in elite publications talking about how celebration of the murder showcases our culture of moral decay (as if this isn't a society that has been either denying or actively celebrating the most well documented genocide in history for the last 15 months; as if there aren't near daily shootings in American schools, occurring so often that they barely even make the news anymore; as if the dead CEO hadn't presided over a company that spread misery and death for the millions as a matter of business as usual); companies beef up security, hide the names of their CEOs. There is, in short, an actual response (though it remains to be seen how it will play out in the long run, but still an actual response). Decades of mass, peaceful protest, and they just ignore it. One guy with a gun, and suddenly it's the end of the fucking world.

What lesson are we supposed to draw from this?

#politics #global warming #tw sa mention #genocide #police brutality #long post

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flawseer · 7 months ago

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#30 - "Your Choice"

Smaugust 2024

I am very fond of the second arc protagonists. They are my favorite collective of plot focus characters, which may be evident by the fact that I've been drawing them more than any other in this challenge. They are a very charming group, even if a few possible character connections are vastly underdeveloped (Moon and Turtle, Winter and Turtle, and Winter and Kinkajou could probably form very strong bonds if they were explored).

The flipside of fondness is usually the formation of strong opinions. I think about these guys a lot. One thing I initially thought was fine, but then struck me as strange on a revisit was the ending of Moonwatcher's book. You have the group (sans Winter), who previously struggled to accept Moon for her unintentionally invasive powers, ostensibly overcome their mistrust of her and solidify their respective bonds with her. Kinkajou in particular tells her that, because she makes no secret of her thoughts anyway, it doesn't matter to her that Moon can read her mind. Up to there it is all very wholesome and heartwarming. Moonwatcher then decides to give them an out, sharing the secret of Skyfire as a way to block her powers. This is a good and very noble gesture, really showing her trustworthiness and respect for their privacy here.

But then they actually take her up on that offer, right after stating they are over their misgivings. I get why they do it--Moonwatcher's uncontrollable power is really inconvenient and annoying to be around--but backtracking 5 seconds later makes their previous declaration of acceptance ring a bit hollow. If I could make a choice here, I would really have liked this to turn into a long-running character arc for the group, where they gradually learn to trust Moon and eventually decide that they don't need the Skyfire anymore, taking it off for good. And Moon in turn could work on refining control over her power so she can be around her friends without accidentally reading every thought. Maybe all of that could have been a scene in the arc 2 finale. But at the very least I would have liked for Kinkajou to stick with her original declaration and reject the Skyfire outright, signaling to Moon that--contrary to her mother's words--the powers are not a curse and that she doesn't need to be ashamed of them.

I guess here is an idea for potential fanfiction: Make them chuck the Skyfire in the bin. Let Moon see that her friends choose to hang out with her even if they can't block her powers.

-----

Long comic today. Sorry it took a while to come out. I think this is the longest one I've drawn for this challenge too.

Just one more day and then Smaugust will be done. I hope you have been enjoying this so far. Thanks for sticking with me.

#wings of fire #dragon #wof #digital art #wof art #flawseer art #smaugust #smaugust2024 #smaugust 2024 #wof kinkajou #wof moonwatcher #wof rainwing #wof nightwing #wof skyfire #flawseer story #flawseer talk

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mai-mai-lim · 8 months ago

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feel free to revoke my art privileges

based on this twitter meme

#thsc #henry stickmin fanart #charles calvin #thsc min seungjae #stickvin #charles is mad to the point he used henry's real name welp #he is this 👌 close to calling his full name--#mai drawing invasion

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a-kind-of-merry-war · 8 days ago

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Hello, yes, I did the thing!

In which Hans spends the duration of a feast whispering filthy things into his bodyguard's ear. 2.7k words, rated somewhere between M and E (there's dirty talk but they don't fuck on-page).

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

With one hand on his sword and the other curled at his side, Henry looks around the room. The fine banqueting hall is full of chatter, nobles discussing - well, whatever it is they talk about when a war isn't on. Tonight, for once, he doesn’t have to care.

He's acting in official capacity this evening: not as a false noble, but as Lord Capon’s bodyguard. Which means that while Hans gets to strut about the hall in his obscenely tight pourpoint, Henry has been dressed head to toe in the finest armour Capon can afford.

Which means, of course, that it is very fine.

Hans knows the difference between armour where the expense comes from aesthetics and that which is actually useful, at least. The armour is surprisingly light, well made and moveable. But there's still a stiff layer of metal between Henry and the rest of the world: between him and Hans’s flesh.

Hans himself is in his element this evening. He swans about like he owns the room, chatting up nobles and charming serving girls. Once, it would have made Henry jealous, watching Hans pour his attention upon other people. But now that bite is gone: Hans is his, just as much as he belongs to Hans.

He knows full well that Hans is aware of this, too. It's a fight with no true sting. He may be whispering into the ear of a blushing kitchen girl, but he's looking at Henry, waiting for a response.

Even Hans’s smiles are filthy. After the initial shock of consummation - something that left them both softly reeling - Hans is back to being his true, typical, randy self. And now uninterested in a string of bath wenches and merchant's daughters and eager ladies, the full unconstrained force of Hans’s passion is pointed squarely at Henry. Henry has never been in a joust, but he suspects the the feeling he gets in his chest when Hans stares at him across the hall is akin to the feeling of being struck with a lance.

It's addictive. Henry isn't some pure untouched virgin, but it's never been like this.

He watches as Hans detaches himself from a group of lords and saunters over. Henry lets himself drink in the sight of him, his hair falling in his face, that God-cursed waist. Hans is looking at him with equal hunger. Henry swallows heavily under his mail.

“Everything alright, my Lord?”

It feels a little odd using such formalities, but no one here knows them. They don't know about Lord Capon and his odd relationship with his page-turned-guard. They have to play a part, tonight.

Hans grins. His teeth flash. “Quite alright, Henry,” he replies. “Nothing to report. If anything it's quite dull.”

That it is. “No invaders today then?”

“Doesn't look like it.” Hans licks his lips and steps closer, lowering his voice. “At least, not yet. I am fully expecting an invasion…” he draws the word out, “upon my person later tonight.”

Hans reaches out - Christ, it's such a tiny movement that no one else would even notice, yet it makes Henry sweat - and rests a fingertip gently against Henry's breastplate.

“So you best be prepared.”

Henry cannot manage a true response before Hans sweeps away, immediately dragged into another conversation.

So it's going to be one of those evenings. Hans's tongue is skilled in more ways than one, but his favourite use for that particular muscle is using it to drip sweet words into Henry's ear.

Although sweet may be the wrong way to describe it. Hans speaks utter filth, and he does so constantly. It doesn't matter if they're in Hans’s chambers or on the road or in a tavern or attending a fucking feast, Hans will be there, a string of sumptuous promises tripping from his lips.

His promises are often absurd, often overblown; bawdy and keen and salacious. He is not, perhaps, the best wordsmith in Bohemia. But something about his words makes Henry trip over himself.

He takes a breath, trying to regain his composure. The chances that he'll be needed as a bodyguard are slim, but the part of his brain that is always alert is clamouring at him. Hans and his syrupy promises are of no use to either of them if they're dead.

Still, he can allow himself a little indulgence. That pourpoint really is indecent, and the new hose - which Hans claims are extremely fashionable - are so tight that the bastard may as well not be wearing any at all.

Henry shuffles on the spot, finally ripping his gaze away. It's going to be a long night.

“Henry!” Henry’s head snaps around at Hans's demanding tone. “Over here, would you?”

It seems that Hans’s requirements are for a more personal bodyguard. Henry makes his way over. Hans's smile is devilish.

It's going to be a very long night.

Henry places himself by Hans's side. Hans could be planning all manner of things: he could have detected a genuine threat, and wants Henry close. He could be showing off how important and wealthy he is to require a personal guard. Most likely, he's bored, and desperate for someone else to talk to.

The man Hans is talking to looks Henry up and down. His nose wrinkles, but he's clearly spotted the expensive armour.

“So this is the one you've been telling me about, Lord Capon? Your bodyguard?”

Showing off, then, Henry thinks.

“Indeed it is,” Hans boasts. “My God, you should see him fight. He can do things with his sword that would have a man on his knees, begging for release. A relentless swordsman.”

He catches Henry's eye. Hans gaze flicks down: eyes, sword, the spot where Hans damn well knows Henry's cock is half-hard behind layers of metal and cloth.

“Is such protection required at a simple banquet?”

Hans turns back to his new friend.

“You are clearly uneducated in the banquets I have attended in the past,” Hans grins. “He is absolutely required. Him and his sword.” He glances again at said sword. “I hope you brought some oil for that thing. Would hate for you to go in unprepared.”

“Absolutely,” Henry responds. “Nice and slick, sir.”

The other man doesn't seem to realise what's going on.

“Well done on finding yourself such a capable man,” he says, ignoring Henry entirely. “If only we could all be so well-guarded.”

“I count myself extremely lucky,” Hans says, preening a little. “Come, let's find more wine.”

As he leads the nobleman away, he shoots a look over his shoulder back towards Henry. He smiles, then in a slow, languid movement licks his lips.

Henry grips the hilt of his sword a little harder and follows him.

It's a short while after that Hans is sauntering towards the tables, where their hosts have laid out a fine spread. He looks at the morsels on offer, then, with deliberate slowness, takes an overripe plumb between thumb and forefinger and pops it into his mouth. Juice drips slowly down his lip. His wine-darkened tongue darts out to chase it.

Not once does he break eye contact.

“Now that looks like something I want in my mouth…”

Henry stills as Hans leans past, reaching for a plate just behind him. Hans steps closer, bending down in such a way that when he speaks, only Henry can hear him.

“Although I can think of one thing I’d prefer to have my lips around,” he says. “But the filling isn't nearly as sweet.”

He rights himself, a kolach in his hand. No one else is around: no one close enough to eavesdrop, at least.

“How long do you think it would take them to notice,” he drawls, “if I dragged you behind that curtain—” he gestures with his head, but Henry can't break his gaze— “And got on my knees for you? Do you think they’d hear you moan?”

Hans grins. God, those teeth, that forked tongue behind them. Henry can hardly breathe. It takes all his self control not to tug Hans into a kiss right there and then; to Hell itself with their unsuspecting audience. But he tightens his shoulders, sets his feet, focuses. Still, it feels like there’s a fucking fire in his belly.

Before he can mount any suitable reply, Hans leans back. He hasn’t moved that far away, yet it feels like miles.

“Bit hard with all this on, though.” Hans flicks a nail against Henry's armour with a ping. “And they'll definitely notice if you take all that off. Some poor bastard will trip over it.”

“I suppose you'll have to wait,” Henry mutters, finally regaining the ability to speak.

“Not so fast,” Hans laughs. “I bought this for you for a reason. It's got plenty of movement in the knees, I made sure of that. Your cock might be covered, but your mouth—” he looks at Henry’s mouth like it's a sugar-coated tart, ready to bite— “is perfectly serviceable.”

Fuck. Henry wishes he were as quick as Hans in this game; Hans can tease and tempt like there’s no tomorrow, but Henry’s attempts to riposte often get smothered by the fog of lust that Hans inevitably leaves his mind swimming in. Before he can respond with much more than a mumble, Hans gives him an enormous smile and heads away from the food.

“Come on, bodyguard,” he calls over his shoulder. “And grab something to eat, will you? I don’t want you complaining about how hungry you are later.”

Henry does as he’s told.

It continues like this all night. Hans is always cockier when he’s bored, and this evening - stuck with people whose most interesting stories are about escaped pigs or fucking taxes - he is extremely bored. He gets even bolder, waiting until whoever he’s speaking to has only just turned away before leaning down and muttering something to Henry, voice low and dark:

I wonder how this wine would taste licked off of your neck?

I hope you can remember how to do that thing with your fingers.

I wonder if you’ll still call me ‘My Lord’ when I’ve got my hand wrapped around your cock.

It’s terribly risky, Henry knows - any one of the guests could hear Hans and call him out. But then again, who would argue with him? Who would risk the ire of the Lord of Pirkstein over what could easily have been a misheard command? And who would risk the ire of his bodyguard?

That, he suspects, is why Hans does it. It’s the risk. He loves playing the part, getting away with something, being something other than the men around him. He loves riling Henry, too: loves heating his cheeks and boiling his blood and getting his prick stiff without even touching him.

He’s lucky that Henry loves it just as much.

The evening is, at last, coming to a close. Drunken nobles are stumbling to their rooms and horses, the hall thinning out. Hans is preparing to make the final rounds: a memorable goodbye is more important than a generous greeting, after all. He’s chatting to an elderly widow, who is keen to take him to talk to someone before he leaves, when he pauses before she can drag him away.

“One moment, my good lady. I just have something to tell my bodyguard: one can never be too careful, after all.”

She’s heard of Hans’s previous adventures. She gives him a knowing smile. “Of course, Sir.”

Hans quickly darts forwards, angling his head down towards Henry’s ear like a man bestowing a deeply important and thus, utterly secret, command.

“When we return to my room, I'm going to ride you harder than you ride your fucking horse.”

And then he lets the widow lead him away without a look back. Henry feels as if he is cooking beneath the armour. He needs to get it off before he bursts into flame. But all he can do is stand there like a fucking statue, waiting for his lord to finish his business. Every hair on his body is on end, every nerve ending alert, his palms sweaty and his mouth dry. He’s thankful, yet again, that the length and thickness of the gambeson beneath his armour conceals how obviously aroused he is.

Finally, finally, Hans does one final, maddening round of the room and comes to join Henry’s side again. He gives him a look of contrite innocence. Henry isn’t sure if he’d rather slap it off or kiss it off.

“Shall we?”

Henry doesn’t need telling twice. He’s close behind Hans all the way through the courtyard and up the staircase and into the guest chambers that Hans has been given for his stay. He wonders if Hans can feel the heat coming off of him, radiating out of his skin and off of the armour like it’s been warmed by the sun instead of the burning in his belly.

“So!” Hans claps his hands and turns around as soon as Henry has locked the door behind him. “Dice?”

Henry makes a low noise in his throat. Hans laughs.

“You’re so easy, love.”

He makes his way over, slowly, languidly; like a cat stretching in the sun. He runs a gentle hand down Henry’s jaw. It’s not nearly enough. Henry grabs him before he can resume his teasing, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a desperate, breathless kiss. Hans hums, allowing Henry to manhandle him, held against the sturdy metal of his armour.

The fucking armour.

“Can—” Henry breaks the kiss. “Can you help me get this stuff off?”

Hans grins. “Of course.”

He steps back. He does— nothing.

“Hans?”

Hans has that sly look back again. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking what?”

“How good it makes you look. Do you think you could fuck in it? Asking philosophically, of course.”

Right now, Henry doesn’t feel like he can even breathe in the armour. “I don’t know,” he says, simply.

“Maybe we should test it out.”

“Hans.”

Hans is back on him, back into the push and pull of this little dance. He kisses Henry again - softly, this time, dragging a hand around to the nape of his neck and tangling in his hair. He smooths his other hand down Henry’s armoured chest, grasping at the gambeson beneath. Henry can’t help but laugh; he won’t have much luck against the armour, no matter the strength of his desire.

“You won’t be able to—”

Hans is on his knees. The floorboards thud beneath him. Henry’s legs are dressed in hose and plate, but that doesn’t stop Hans. He reaches beneath the fabric of the gambeson, tracing his fingers beneath the edges of the armour, cupping Henry’s balls and his straining cock; or what he can cup, as trussed up as Henry is.

Henry’s breath comes out in a gasp - Hans - but Hans does not stop. He coaxes Henry even harder, apparently pleased with himself.

“You know,” he says, “I think you could fuck me like this…”

“Hans—”

“What was that?”

“Lord fucking Hans, help me out of this god damned armour so I can fuck you.”

“Oh alright.”

He stands again, swift and sure. He looks downright delighted with himself. And, Henry can tell, now they’re face to face, just as flushed and eager as Henry feels. He doesn’t draw it out, this time, but reaches up and quickly sets to work on all the straps and buckles keeping the armour in place. As it loosens around him, Henry sags, finally free, finally able to breathe. Hans even gets back to his knees to remove the leg plate, tossing it aside with a lack of care that does not match how much he’s been bragging about the expense of it all.

Now dressed only in his hose and the light undershirt that he’d worn beneath the gambeson, he tugs Hans to his feet and pulls him to his chest. Henry can feel him at last; feel the soft warmth of his body, the lithe brush of his hands. He buries his face in Hans’s neck, nipping and nibbling and coating it in little kisses. He grabs his waist, the fine fabric sliding beneath his hot palms. It’s too much to bear after an evening trapped in that maddening armour with Hans’s words pouring into his ear.

They’re both stripped in moments, the too-tight hose bundled on the floor beside Henry’s armour.

Hans slings a leg over Henry’s thighs. He perches atop him like a lord, his cock jutting, his strong arms flexing.

“Now be a good, well-trained guard,” he drawls, “and get that sword of yours ready for me.”

#kcd2 #kcd #kingdom come deliverance #hansry #hans capon #henry of skalitz #my fic #fanfic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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The Olde Bakery 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: mob!Syverson, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The man squeezes until you ache. His nails dig into your flesh as his eyes devour you. Your cleavage swells as he toys with you. You quiver and ball your hands to keep from keeling over.

Your confusion mingles with disbelief. Your eyes wet with futility. Why is he doing this to you? He doesn't even know you? You don't even know his name. Though you know what he can do.

He slips his hands around you and steps closer. You lower your eyes as you struggle to take a full breath. His thick fingers pick at the back of your bra. He tugs and pinches but only unclasps one hook. Impatient, he wrenched with both hands and snaps the others free.

You jolt with his strength. He roughly rips the straps down your arms and exposes you completely. You whimper and fold your arms to hide.

He hums and grasps your shoulders. He pushes until you drop your arms. His gaze makes your skin crawl.

"You take off the rest for me, kitten," he commands in a grizzly timbre.

His voice bristle through you. You can't deny him. Slowly, he lets you go. As you reach for your waistband, he tweaks your nipples and growls again.

"Mmm, tasty," he grits.

You sniffle and shimmy down your pants. He steps back to let you shed them. He drags his fingers up and down your stomach and again fondles your chest.

"You sit pretty for me, sweet thing," he bounces your tits one last time and draws away.

You gulp and sit in the chair. The wood is cold against your naked ass. You see past him the large windows. Anyone could see in. They probably already have.

He cracks his neck loudly and pops his knuckles. He rests his hands on his belt and picks the button open. He splits the zipper and spreads it wide. You whimper as he reaches under his gray boxers. He pumps himself before bring his dick above the waistband. You stare at his shirt, mortified.

He steps closer as you shiver and clutch your hands tightly over your lap. He brings his hand up to pet your hair and glides around to the back. He cradles your skull as he grips himself in his other hand.

"Now, kitten, you be nice and soft for me," he ligthly presses his tip along your lower lip, "open up."

You bat your lashes and look up at him with a pleading pout. Your tears pour out and trickle down your cheeks. He shifts his hand and stretches his thumb to trace the wet path left by your fear.

"Shhhh, kitten, I can be good to you," he leans into you and pushes until you unlock your jaw.

You let him in and he groans. Your warmth hugs him snugly and he drones in delight. He inches inside and shudders. He splays his finger around your head and forces himself deeper, letting out a guttural groan.

"Mmm, yes, you are sweet," he wiggles his hips as you gag and your tears leak out unchecked. He slides back and you quake, only for him to smother you again with his thick length. Your throat aches around his intrusion. "Think I'll be taking you to go.”

He thrusts again and you grasp at the front of his pants. He rocks, groaning as he brings his other hand under your chin. Your jaw aches with each invasion, each gruelling delve down deeper.

"Mm, sweet thing," he snarls as he locks your head in his grip and holds you still.

He works his hips faster and faster, fucking your face as you sit helpless to his onslaught. Your push a hand up his stomach, begging with gulps and gags for him to slow. Saltiness mingles with your saliva as it smears around your mouth and across your cheeks, wetting your nose as it spreads along his pelvis.

You gurgle and roll your eyes back, your head throbbing and cloudy. He grunt and pumps harder and harder. You feel him tense and tremble. Before you can brace yourself, he finishes with a stifled roar.

He empties himself down your throat, drowning you in the deluge as he fucks his cum deep. You cough and your mouth overflows, a sickly dribble down your chin. He stays buried in you then slowly eases out.

You spasm as you restrain the swell of sickness as your gag reflex twitches. He traces his tip around your lips to smear the mess around. He hums and pulls away, letting out a shaky breath as he does.

You cover your lips as you fight the bile brewing beneath the mouthful. Your lashes flutter as you try to decide what to do. He tuts as he swipes a napkin from the holder on the counter.

“Don't you be spittin’ that out. You swallow down my sugar,” he demands.

Your eyes round as you struggle not to revolt. You seal your lips and your throat clenches in a painful gulp. You push your lips out and try to mop up the tears with your knuckles.

“Aw, kitten, you ain't never had a real man, have ya?” He tucks himself away and zips his fly. “Well, aren't many of those ‘round here, huh?”

You sniffle and rest your hand on your chest, just against your collar bone. You inhale and let it out carefully, trying to calm yourself. He bites his lip as he considers you.

“Think I'll be taking a coffee now,” he bends to scoop up the apron and tosses it at you, “and one of them cinnamon buns. Looks almost as sweet as you.”

You catch the fabric and stare at him. He passes you and you stare at the windows. You slowly uncrumple the apron and stand. You tie it on and turn away from the chair.

You go behind the counter and grab a porcelain mug. You fill it with medium roast and pick out one of the glazed buns. You bring both to the table where he sits calmly.

“I'll take some cream,” he says, “had my fill of sugar.”

#captain syverson #dark captain Syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #sand castle #drabble #series #the olde bakery #mob au #au

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khaire-traveler · 1 month ago

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🌍 Subtle Gaia Worship 🌱

Pick up trash and litter in your neighborhood, nature preserves, hiking trails, beaches, etc. (please wear protective equipment!!!)

Take a walk/hike outside; nature environments would be great, but it's ok if you don't have that option

Open a window in your home; breathe in some fresh air

Support organizations focused on climate control, the environment, or the well-being of wildlife/plant life

Support organizations that are against domestic abuse or aiding domestic abuse survivors

Plant a tree if you can

Try gardening or own a houseplant

Have a candle that reminds you of her (no altar needed)

Wear jewelry that reminds you of her

Keep a picture of her or the earth in your wallet

Fall asleep to nature sounds, such as birds singing, forest ambiance, or comforting animal noises

Try to spot something beautiful in the natural world around you every time you go outside; take a moment to appreciate it if you can

Learn about your local flora and fauna; learn about invasive species to look out for

Watch a nature documentary or educational video about nature

Learn about foraging; try your hand at it (SAFELY!!!)

Try eating organic fruits and veggies; if you can't, try eating fruits and veggies in general

Spend extra time making a tasty meal for yourself or loved ones; add natural ingredients to it, like fruits, veggies, meats, eggs, etc.

Drink tea made from herbs and the like; add honey to your tea

Try communing with plants and their spirits, if you're open to that practice; give thanks to local nature spirits; this includes nymphs

Have imagery of the seasons, lightning, fruits, the earth, the ocean, the sky, mountains, natural environments (like forests and jungles), plant life (especially very green plants), ash trees, pine trees, olive trees, rosemary, motherhood (however you choose to interpret that), scorpions, snakes, dragons, bats/bat wings, sea creatures, centaurs, nymphs, and flint sickles (or generally sickles)

Have a stuffed animal snake, dragon, bat, or scorpion; have a stuffed animal of an animal you associate strongly with motherhood

Lend a hand to any new parents in your life; offer to help babysit, if you can

Be kind to children (or disengage, just don't be beefing with a child)

Play with or spend time with any kids in your life

Donate child supplies, such as diapers, baby food, and toys, to a homeless shelter or organization that helps parents/single mothers

Engage in random acts of kindness towards a stranger; make someone smile

Allow yourself to rest when you need to; rest is productive

Treat yourself with kindness and love; practice self-love

Try to encourage yourself when you're having a hard time, or otherwise be gentle with yourself

Give compassion to others, especially those who are struggling

Embrace being the "parent friend", if you are one (someone who always has snacks, bandaids, etc.; someone who is always checking in on everyone in the group; someone is always taking care of the group, etc.)

Practice grounding techniques; give meditation in nature (or to nature sounds) a try

Engage in relaxing activities, especially when you're feeling overwhelmed; this can include drawing, painting, crocheting, writing, etc.

Take an herbal/salt bath (USE BATH SALTS; MAKE SURE HERBS DON'T GO DOWN YOUR DRAIN!!!)

Take frequent breaks from your phone/technology; make sure you're not straining your eyes

Exercise/stretch; move your body in some way

For now, this is my list of discreet ways to worship Gaia! I'll likely add more later on. May Gaia embrace you in her loving arms, if you wish her to. 💚

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

#helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #gaia deity #gaia #gaia worship #paganblr #pagan tips

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rebeccathenaturalist · 5 months ago

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Okay. So you know how industrial agriculture overuses synthetic fertilizers loaded with nitrogen to make up for the decades of soil degradation that intensive farming practices cause? So not only does a lot of this fertilizer end up as runoff in our waterways every time it rains, but while it's still on land it's messing with the surrounding ecology, particularly plants.

See, nitrogen normally exists primarily in our atmosphere, and most organisms can't absorb atmospheric nitrogen, even though it's a crucial nutrient. However, some soil bacteria are capable of drawing this nitrogen in and converting it to a form of ammonia accessible to plants. These bacteria can be found in little nodules of many plants' roots, and make the nitrogen available to their hosts in return for a nice safe place to live. When these nitrogen-fixing plants shed leaves or other parts, or die entirely, the nitrogen in their tissues is then released into the local ecosystem as they decay.

However, when we started supercharging farmland and gardens with tons of extra nitrogen through fertilizers, we threw off the entire nitrogen cycle. Plants native to a given ecosystem have evolved to tolerate a certain balance of nutrients, to include some that may be naturally scarce, and when the nutrient balance suddenly shifts significantly, it causes a lot of upset. With more nitrogen filtering through nearby ecosystems, and those downstream, nitrogen-fixing plants are suddenly losing their competitive edge, and are becoming less common in these places. Over time, they can become locally extinct, breaking whatever bonds they had with other species in the ecosystem, which often leads to even more ecological unraveling.

So you see, more fertilizer isn't always the answer. When engaging in habitat restoration efforts in many parts of the United States, it's important to work with the native soil instead of adding a lot of amendments. Those amendments can actually make it easier for invasive weeds to get a roothold because they often come from places with richer soil, or are simply more able to make the most of the excess nutrients to grow faster and out-compete native plants. Adding too much nitrogen, whether intentionally or as a byproduct of agriculture, makes it even tougher for native ecosystems to thrive in disturbed areas adjacent to farms. On the other hand, making sure your restoration site has native nitrogen-fixers and other pioneer plants helps set the stage for long-term success, while making conditions less favorable to nutrient-hungry invasive species.

We already had plenty of reason to curb the overuse of synthetic fertilizers; this study just adds another argument in that regard.

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kurishiri · 5 months ago

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epilogue . . . happy birthday, darius! ˗ˏˋ🪽´ˎ˗

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— please note this entire story is told from darius’ point of view!

— cw: invasion of personal space.

I had taken her to be far too honest, and a bit of a fool too.

Someone who Crown seemed charmed by——just another human.

And also how she had by chance happened upon a place where they had passed judgment.

That was all there was to it, and yet Crown seemed quite attached to her.

She was important to them, and they held her dear in their hearts.

And seeing her surrounded by them like that, it very much resembled a ‘robin’ within a birdcage.

Lightning didn’t strike thereafter.

It was as though the raging weather up until now had all been a lie as I turned to the stars that showed themselves in the sky.

(You lucky girl, you.)

Having come to her senses, she looked as though she had barely escaped from death,

and yet, she also somewhat seemed as though she was unsatisfied by something.

Darius: Now that’s quite unfortunate, seeing the sky ended up clearing.

Just like that, I let go of her, and she went for the door in a haste to make more distance, but——

Kate: U-umm...

For some reason, she turned around and raised her voice, her trembling hands gripping her skirt.

Kate: Happy birthday!

Darius: ......... [surprised]

Kate: And good night.

I could only stare at her retreating figure from the open door for a while, dazed.

But then, I started to feel things have really started to get interesting, and laughter escaped me thereafter.

Darius: That’s the first time I’ve seen a human like her.

There wasn’t any human like her in Germany.

(But even in this country, it seems that fairytale keeper is one of a kind too.)

(That just goes to show how there are some odd humans, I suppose.)

I took out the handkerchief from my pocket, pinching it between my fingers, so the moonlight illuminated its embroidery.

Darius: Well, I already could see what she was going to choose.

I saw how she had been setting her sights at what she was going to choose from outside the shop.

And also how she had taken that handkerchief first, before all else.

Darius: It’s the first I’ve heard handkerchiefs being used as a charm, though... is it like wishing upon something, maybe?

Such as wishing not to get hurt, or to come back safe and sound.

For a long time now, humanity has entrusted their wishes on objects.

Darius: If that’s the case, though, I think this would find much more use in your hands than mine.

If someone who held no power whatsoever, such as herself, accompanied Crown on missions as fairytale keeper...

(The least you could do is make a wish on this that you can come back without getting hurt, no?)

But——

Darius: It is pretty interesting seeing a human like her worry over us Cursed ones.

In the beginning, I was wondering what type of human this fairytale keeper was, seeing Crown all around her...

(But I sure didn’t expect her to be the one to approach me first, so I didn’t even need to probe any further to know.)

She did seem perplexed, to be sure, but in the end she said that she had fun,

and while my words clearly scared her, it wasn’t as though she had run away either.

Darius: All that talk about celebrating with me forever was meant to be a joke, but now I’m starting to think a bit otherwise.

Realizing that my reflection in the window was smiling, I placed my hand on the corner of my mouth.

Darius: Which means it’s about time I start thinking about turning Crown’s little robin into Vogel’s.

D: If I do that, then I really can have her celebrate my birthday.

Holding the handkerchief, I turned on my heel.

Strangely, I didn’t feel any disgust.

Darius: Always and forever, until I draw my very last breath.

A few days after my birthday——

Suddenly, I heard reserved knocks from the door, and I raised my head, turning my attention to the one at the other side of the door.

Darius: Come in, miss fairytale keeper.

When she opened the door, surprise was on her face.

Kate: How did you know it was me?

Darius: I just took a shot in the dark.

D: But it looks like I hit the mark.

(Well, actually, I knew because you’re the only one who knocks the door the way you do.)

I had ended up remembering how she knocked, seeing as the servants and maids knocked in a completely different way.

Kate: Are those... milk puzzles?

She looked down at the milk white pieces scattered about the desk.

Darius: We chatted about doing these together sometime, didn’t we?

Paying no mind, I continued putting the pieces together.

Darius: So would you like to do it? They’re a bit harder than normal puzzles though.

D: It’s more fun to put together a pure white piece rather than some plain old scenery.

Picking up pieces that had fallen to the floor, she handed them to me.

Kate: Of course, beautiful sceneries are good, but I also think having no picture at all like a milk puzzle is a wonderful thing too.

K: There isn’t a single stain to be seen on the single colored scene, so if you put it up somewhere, it’ll catch the eye, I would think.

(There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that she’d say she preferred puzzles with a painting on them, but...)

My hands stopped where they were when I heard her response differ from what I had thought it would be.

Kate: But, it seems like it’d be harder than I imagine to actually do.

K: So, I wonder if I’ll be able to do these?

Her eyes seemed to sparkle at the half-done puzzle,

and so I handed her a smaller puzzle that I was going to do next.

Darius: This one has fewer pieces, so I imagine even you’d be able to do it, no?

Kate: Huh...? Is it alright?

Darius: Think of it as a thank you for celebrating my birthday.

Kate: T-thank you then.

Hugging the milk puzzle in her arms, she seemed quite happy, and I tilted my head at that.

(Is it really something to be that happy about?)

Kate: Uhm, actually, there’s something I’d like to give you today...

She set the box she had been hiding behind her back down on the desk, and when she opened it——

Darius: A berry tart?

In the box was a tart with an assortment of colorful berries on top.

Kate: We didn’t have a birthday cake, so I was thinking of celebrating once again, with this...

K: See, I gathered a lot of different types of berries, and prepared something elaborate!

Seeing her holding out candles, I couldn’t help but laugh.

(As I thought, she really is earnest, honest, and a tad bit foolish.)

It was as though she had forgotten all of what happened yesterday as she looked straight this way——

Darius: Is it okay to eat it now?

Kate: Of course! And since I brought these over, too, let’s put the candles in too.

From beyond the flickering flame of the candles, I could see a full smile play on her lips as she softly sang the birthday song.

(I’ve had my birthday celebrated a great many times up until now, but strangely...)

This time seemed infinitely more pleasant than any of those birthdays.

I heard her blow out the candles and clap her hands...

Kate: Happy birthday, Darius.

(...Just what is this feeling, I wonder?)

It was the first time I ever felt this way, so unable to put a name on it, I tilted my head.

Kate: Let’s eat it together.

She held out a fork to me, causing me to come back to my senses. I reached my hands for the tart——

And taking it as I pleased, I brought it to my mouth.

Kate: Ah...

The part of the tart that didn’t reach my mouth fell on top of the milk puzzle,

staining the pure white pieces a purplish red.

I tried to wipe the fruit juice that dripped from my mouth with the back of my hand, but…

Kate: You’ll get dirty...

In a panic, she reached out to do the same, and so I brought out the handkerchief from my pocket.

Then, I placed it in her hands...

Darius: Wipe it with this.

And gripping the handkerchief, she came in closer with a deliberate movement, her hand reaching out toward me.

(See, she’s approaching me without even a moment’s hesitation.)

Seeing her without an ounce of caution, I grabbed her wrist.

Kate: Wh...

Just like that, I pulled her toward me, and her body tumbled down in response. I then grabbed a berry in my other hand, and...

Kate: mngh——

I pressed it against those small lips.

The berry now crushed, those pink lips were stained a purple-red color, and a drop of its juice traced down to her chin.

(It looks like blood.)

My eyes felt awfully drawn to that, and using my fingers, I went on to stain her cheeks with the berry juice.

Darius: Indeed, ‘dirty’ sounds right.

(The milk puzzle, me, and you...)

Darius: You’ll wipe it all, won’t you.

The color called Kate, who had fell upon the pure white that was myself, was more lovely than I had ever thought it to be,

and, even still, I wanted to keep my eyes on that very scene.

← main story fin. letter →

full masterlist 🪽🍰 ╱ ko-fi

END NOTES: i feel like there’s just a lot to unpack with the tart scene. or just through this story in general, i’m really starting to understand what his voice actor, shigematsu chiharu, meant when he said when he mentioned how he found it charming that how he is very human-like himself despite sort of resenting humanity. i feel that tart scene really shed light on his own ‘humanity.’ or how he is clearly capable of feeling the same way other humans can feel, but is unable to put a label on it because with her, it’s the first time he’s felt the way he did… or even just the way he was confused or taken aback by this and that because of kate, you know.

overall there’s just a lot of this sort of dissonance to be had with his character, and i’m definitely curious about him and am excited to sort of get to the root of all this, like sort of finding out why he is the way he is and all that.

anyway, yeah, i’m thinking a lot about his character, but it’s a bit hard to form it into words maybe, haha. i hope you enjoyed the story!

#did he catch the love bug 👀✨#ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil darius #ikevil darius vogel #darius vogel #ikemen villains darius #cybird ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen series #otome game #otome #ikevil translation #ikevil translations #div: cafekitsune; chachachannah

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storiesfromafan · 4 months ago

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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...

Next Part: Part Two

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha #feyd rauth harkonnen #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x reader

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