#should be masters of their own fate

[reginrokkr]

𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈. Birth of a thought made manifest in human flesh —Dáinsleif's origins—.

◜The Winged One's regret or remorse gave birth to a thought, and as he imagined the path that could have been taken, a new soul was born.◞

As a result of the war waged against the Second Who Came, Nibelung and the ensuing chaos with the leaking Forbidden Knowledge that had to be subdued lest the world was plunged into darkness, thus left with no chances for survival, Phanes' functions were ruined and could no longer use their absolute authority to suppress the original order of this world. In combination with his severely wounded state, the Usurper glimpsed into the wrongs of his deeds and the ones bound to come after if he were to be deteriorated further due to the influence of the Forbidden Knowledge, the loathing and resentments of the world or other forces that could take advantage of his weakened state.

He who loved his human creations more than anyone, and He who cursed the gods to come after to love humans saw himself mired in hypocrisy the moment his creations were at disadvantage the most and were kept in the highest regard no longer due to his own decisions' and that of his closest circle, who should follow his will. Thus in a moment of weakness and lucidity, his regret gave birth to a thought— to a what if. What if things were different, what if his initial desire continued without struggling against the vicissitudes and personal agendas, what if he was stronger to not let himself be corrupted to this point of apparent no return.

What if he could undo everything that made his sacred plans evil.

From these last thoughts was Dáinsleif born as a soul, nurtured in a seed in Irminsul's benevolent aura out of its kindness and will for the world to cease fighting against its own natural orders and to diminish the loathing and resentments of the world that the Primordial One has caused. One day of the countless moons this seed basked under the moonlight and Irminsul's might, he was born in the material world in Celestia as a human, a manifestation of the origins never known by others of Phanes' closest circle until divine's eyes fell upon him. Unrest was among them, yet only muted at the knowledge that they could do with him as they pleased. So repeating the cycle of a once heiress of Celestia that failed in her task to retrieve the Pearl of Genesis and believed herself to be the queen of the kingdom of darkness, Dáinsleif was sent there with the intent to erase his memories of any ties he could have to Celestia.

Thus he would have no connection with the divine, nor his actions would suppose betrayal to any— for it is them who betrayed them first, abandoned him to his fortune. Unbeknownst to them, he who they abandoned would be the one to silence the source of all sins in the deepest abyss and undo the wrongs that began with the greatest Usurper, as well as reweaving all threads of fate.

It would all begin in Khaenri'ah, where Dáinsleif has drifted with a mission he recalls no more, and where he would mature his views of the world, limited at the time as they may be. His love for humanity and pursuit to defend them limitless as the Primordial Sea from where all life is born, even if his personal beliefs about the laws set in the kingdom and its deeds may differ drastically from what it would be expected of anyone who arrives to the kingdom established along the roots of Irminsul.

[gravityqueen]

i really dont know why re3r did this

[sunderwight]

SV AU where Luo Binghe answers Shen Qingqiu's "do you want power?" question differently, so Shen Qingqiu cannot mentally justify pushing him into the Abyss, and resolves to just let the System kill him instead. Even though he doesn't want to die, it's probably still better to just get yeeted out of his body than to be brutally dismembered after forcing his favorite disciple to suffer terribly.

However, the System picks up on this philosophical shift in the user, and begins to take counter-measures.

Without-a-Cure ratchets up exponentially. Around the same time, Luo Binghe discovers an ancient record in the libraries that claims some rare compound or other which can only be found in the Endless Abyss, is reputed to cure all poisons, even the most deadly spiritual kind.

When Shen Qingqiu is too weak to even attend the Immortal Alliance Conference, Luo Binghe initially plans to stay by his bedside. But then he overhears Shang Qinghua whispering about a mysterious plot with a being on the other side of a portal, about arranging a demonic invasion, and afterwards, his shishu mutters something about the Endless Abyss.

Luo Binghe returns to his unconscious master's bedside, and begs him to hold on for however long it will take, because Binghe will return with the cure.

By the time Shen Qingqiu's fever breaks, the Immortal Alliance has come and gone, and with it his poor disciple. What's worse, the whole cultivation world seems to have caught on to the fact that Luo Binghe is a demon! That wasn't supposed to come out yet! But without Shen Qingqiu to help shield him, his seal broke early and in front of more than a few witnesses. Cang Qiong has fallen under a lot of unflattering speculation for harboring such a "creature".

Shen Qingqiu supposes he should have known that there would be no escaping fate. And yet, even with the knowledge that Binghe will come back, and that this time he won't even harbor a grudge against his master for pushing him in, that -- in a sense -- Shen Yuan has been spared and this is probably the 'best case scenario', somehow it's not any easier to deal with. Especially not when he knows that his poor disciple doesn't even want the rewards that will follow after it, that he's suffering for nothing except the fickle mandates of some narrative destiny.

Also, he didn't figure out that Shang Qinghua is Airplane, so he has no fellow transmigrator to understand or help him vent. He's just alone in his knowledge, sickly, fretted over and grieving (not that he can admit the latter), while the sect whispers that the Xiu Ya sword is probably not long for this world now. If the poison doesn't kill him, perhaps his disgrace will. Cang Qiong's good name has been dragged through the mud, and Huan Hua Palace is looking to beat it down further. There are even some who claim that Luo Binghe must have been behind Sha Hualing's earlier invasion, and poisoned his own master because of it! Shen Qingqiu can't stand such talk, nor the pitying, condescending looks he receives whenever he tries to defend his disciple's character.

The writing is on the wall, however. If Shen Qingqiu won't die as a scum villain, the story seems to be planning to kill him off as the tragically deceased mentor.

Meanwhile Luo Binghe takes longer to get out of the Abyss this time. Not for lack of motivation, but because he needs to find his goddamn macguffin first! And then he has to protect it, and get both it and himself safely out of the Abyss! Which means he can't just rush through killing everything, he has to take his time to plan and prepare, even though he wants to rush through because every minute he spends in the Abyss is another minute where Shen Qingqiu could be dying.

When Binghe finally gets out, it's to find that the righteous sects, headed by Huan Hua Palace, are conducting a formal investigation into Cang Qiong Mountain, specifically into the allegations of consorting with demons and the corruption of the Qing Jing Peak Lord. He hurries to the palace to intervene, though by what means even he's not sure.

He arrives just as the Huan Hua Palace disciples are removing Shen Qingqiu's nearly-lifeless body from the water prison.

Just in time for the expected stirring final words of his old shizun, Shen Qingqiu thinks. Imagine his surprise when Luo Binghe force-feeds him a weird potion plus like a liter of blood. Binghe, this is not the dignified end that your shizun had planned!

[peachpitfics]

Wildest Dreams

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Your Father has betrothed you to his eldest, most despicable friend. You confide in your closest friend, Benedict Bridgerton, that you wish your first time could be with somebody else, somebody you liked.

Length: 3.5k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Propositioning a friend, first time, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm.

a/n: Wildest Dreams is part i of iii ~ requested by anon here.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

The blood drained from your face, your hands clasped together in clammy nervousness – your father had just told you that since you have failed to successfully find a husband within the first year on the marriage mart, he will be arranging a betrothal between yourself and Lord Roger Howard. Lord Howard was six and sixty, he was your father’s eldest friend. Every interaction you ever witnessed was filled with contempt and disrespect, especially with service staff. His words were often filled with bigotry and unfairness. You found him repulsive, his yellowing chipped teeth in his villainous smile. The way his poorly maintained fingernails curled at the ends. His white moustache stained into unsightly colours from cigar smoke. The thought of having to be near this man, be intimate with this man, nearly drove you toward deaths door.

Your knees shook, standing from your armchair in the sitting room, not speaking a word to your father as you exited. Scurrying up the stairs, throwing yourself onto your bed, you felt your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Tears streamed down your face, you did your best to suck in deep breaths, but panic continued to wash over you. There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this fate. There had been some suitors interested in you, but you had chosen to wait, to see if the one person you had wanted would make himself available to you. Now it was too late, those suitors had moved on with other young ladies, and the man you wanted was nowhere to be seen.

Your lady’s maid knocked meekly on the door, having come to prepare you for this evening’s ball. The Queen would be there, and you knew she would be disappointed in this match your father had forced upon you, not that that would help you.

“Shall we get the family jewels out miss? I hear it is to be quite an exciting night” You could tell she was putting it on, trying to sound excited. It seemed to come off as patronizing instead.

“Whatever you should think is appropriate” You tried to keep your feelings to yourself, but the streaks through your makeup sold you out at first glance. You spent the rest of your preparation in silence, usually the two of you indulged in a little gossip, it was supposed to be fun.

All evening you hid behind larger groups, behind servers carrying trays of champagne, doing your best to ensure the inevitable could not happen. Finally, considerably late in the evening, your closest friend deigned to arrive. Almost surging across the dance floor and into Benedict’s side, you linked arms and impishly whisked him out through the conservatory doors.

“Miss Y/n” Benedict exclaimed, “What is the meaning of this?”.

You breathed heavily, ducking, and weaving through overgrown plants and florals. You scouted each entrance, paranoia clinging to your side like a child in a sack race.

“My father has committed a most heinous act” You spill to Benedict, there is only concern etched on his face, “I am to be married to Lord Howard”. Your breath never steadied, sweat beaded where your forehead met your hair line. There was that panic you remembered so fondly, only hypervigilance had eliminated that feeling from the centre of your chest.

“Oh lord,” Benedict’s mouth hung open, utterly flabbergasted, “I cannot believe he would do that to you” Both of his hands found their way to your shoulders in compassion.

“And yet he has. My own father has bargained me away to some elder beast! There is nothing I can do to stop it” Your hands ran through your hair, untangling one of the twists.

Benedict did not know what to say, all he could do was lurch forward and take you into his arms. His strong arms reached around you, pulling you tight. The sound of his steady breath and rhythmic heartbeat calmed you quickly.

“When I was a little girl, I wished on a falling star I would find someone who loved me as their equal. I now wish for that same thing on this very night. To think that I have wasted my life dreaming about love, finding someone like me, with the same interests, the same age as me even!” You thought aloud. Benedict was always someone you could tell your innermost thoughts to, he never judged you once, and he was the kindest of listeners.

Benedict Bridgerton also knew exactly who you were dreaming about – it was him. You had been friends for several years, and it had always been obvious to anyone with sight, that you and Ben were infatuated with each other. But Benedict was young, and impulsive, unlikely to marry at this time.

“I do not want to spend my life with that old simpleton! I want to experience life and love!” You cried out, “My elder sister divulged what it is married couples do on their wedding night – I do not want that with him! I cannot live my life without having ever experienced the touch of a man who cares for me!” Your cries turned into whispers; whimpers scattered throughout.

He held you close to him, making a caring swishing sound, it kind of sounded like the ocean. Benedict sure knew how to comfort you when you were in need.

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Your father’s voice echoed off the glass walls, sending you into a frenzy, quickly separating from Benedict, dabbing your cheeks with a handkerchief.

“Yes father?” You responded.

“Lord Howard is here with me. There is something he would like to say to you” Your father called. Benedict hid low amongst the broad-leafed plants, the darkness of the conservatory shading him. You appeared from the shadows without explanation, not that your father was seeking one. Lord Howard stood hunched next to your father, who was 20 years his junior. It appeared as though he bowed, but it was hard for you to discern.

“M…m…miss Y/n?” He stuttered, struggling to see through the spectacles at the end of his nose, “There is a question I must ask you. With the permission of your father, I am here to ask for your hand in marriage” Spittle flew from his mouth in between sharp consonants. Dread flooded your body, you felt like you were being submerged in a pool of water, the tears in your eyes, simply the only way for the water to escape.

There was animosity in your father’s gaze, warning you there was simply one answer to the question asked. Taking in a deep breath, “Yes, Lord Howard, I will accept” You murmured. Lord Howard did not look pleased, he did not appear bothered either, he simply nodded once and turned about, marching back to the main ballroom. You wondered if this was what your marriage was going to be like? Would he ignore your existence and leave you to your own life if you produced an heir? You could not ascertain whether this was a good thing or not.

Benedict hung his head, having watched this entire exchange from the shadows. There was an element of guilt on his part, he blamed himself, unable to give you what you wanted in time to save you. When your father had left you standing still, tears staining your dress, Benedict slid out from the darkness.

“I think I am going to ask the footman to take me home… I only have so much time before my time is not mine any longer” You lower lip trembled; the peaceful silence of the conservatory disturbed by the soft sounds of sobs.

“Y/n,” Benedict muttered, his hand running down your upper arm. Electricity connected your flesh in a zap, your breath caught in your chest as his skin joined with yours. His tender hands grazed yours, tickling the palm of your hand.

“Benedict” You shook your head, moving to take your hand away before he closed his around it. His tongue flicked over his lips several times as he contemplated what he had to say. Sometimes you heard the other young ladies tell stories about Benedict, you never knew if they were true. They spoke of how he was finest of the Bridgerton brothers, they also spoke of his rakish tendencies, however mostly in a jealous fashion.

The forecast in Benedict’s eyes swiftly shifted from clear blue to a stormy grey. You had not noticed how tall he was before, looming over you like a dark cloud. His face illustrated apathetic gloom, his hand boring you into him, like he was the eye of the storm.

“There is something I must speak with you about, in private” Benedict rolled his tongue aggressively on his teeth as he spoke. Everything about his demeanor was confusing, you felt strangely like prey, wondering why it felt good. Benedict snuck out the conservatory door, your hands clutched together while he led you to his carriage, asking his footmen to make way for the Bridgerton house.

“What is this about Benedict?” You asked as soon as the door was secure and the carriage moving.

“Y/n, please give me a moment and I will explain everything. I do not know if I have a solution to your problem, but I may be able to offer a compromise. Something I would only do for you, if you asked, because I care about you so deeply” Benedict paused, this intense look of thoughtful worry about him, “If you would be agreeable, I would like to suggest that I… bed you for the first time” Benedicts voice was low and resounding.

Your lips parted abashedly, your cheeks flushed pink, blinking became uncontrollable. All you could do was sit completely still, astronomically stunned by what Benedict had proposed. You understood that for whatever reason, Benedict could not give you everything you wanted, but he was offering you something. He was offering you an experience you may never have gotten to have otherwise, a chance to feel loved and wanted in intimate affection with another person.

“Say something, anything, please. I cannot stand this silence” Benedict rubbed his temples after a few minutes. His eyes were still dark with longing, he looked over with you a deviating sense of ownership.

“You would do that for me?” You entreated, hands shaking so hard you nearly sat on them to make it stop.

Benedict nodded surely across from you, the carriage pulling up at the Bridgerton house. Your eyes locked, the carriage completely still and silent, you took a moment to consider the ramifications of your choice. Ben’s posture was resolute, his gaze expansive, eagerly waiting for your reply.

“Yes” You swallowed hard, Benedict snatching your hand from your lap and dragging you from the carriage, running up the walk and into the house. You made short work of the very many stairs on the way up to his bedroom, sure that nobody could have seen you, as you ran that fast.

Blood rushing around your body, you stood just inside Benedict’s door, trying desperately to catch your breath. Benedict shuffled about the room, lighting a few candles, closing the windows for the evening. He looked back at you, having already stripped into your underclothes while his back was turned. A most shameful lust driven smile sketched lightly onto his face, he made the long voyage acrost the bedroom to stand a foot or two in front of you.

“Thank you for doing me this favor. I will owe you always” You remarked, your eyes dancing figure eights on the lush carpet squishing under your wiggling toes.

Benedict’s shoulders were more relaxed than you had ever seen them, his posture always just so. Strands of hair bled onto his sticky forehead, dark eyebrows brewing overhead transfixed eyes. That charming smile, filled with foolishness, had not been seen since leaving the ball – this was something so chronically serious to him. He effortlessly tugged at his maroon cravat, casting it to the floor, his proud neck craning to get another glimpse of you from another angle. His throat bobbed when he stepped closer again, just one more step. Fiddling with his waistcoat buttons ardently, watching the frustration set into your eyes, Benedict finally shed his coat and pitched it across the room, knocking over something unbreakable in the corner. It did not steal his gaze; his eyes were set on you. Benedict lifted his suspenders off his shoulders, allowing them to dangle by his hips, the chest of his white, silk undershirt gaping open. Your teeth instinctually bit into your lower lip at the slightest sight of skin you had not ever seen before. The corner of Benedicts mouth upturned smugly, his lips rolling together as his breath became audible. Standing just one foot apart, the tension between you was palpable. You wondered if someone had struck a match, might the room simply explode, there seemed to be so much chemistry between the two of you.

“Please, continue” Your hands pressed to your stomach, you watched as Benedict unlaced his boots, one foot at a time on the stool at the end of his bed. His blistering eye bore into you even still. Making his way back to you, still at hardly an arm’s length, his brawny arms crossed his body to pull his undershirt off over his head.

You swooned audibly, almost gasping seeing the entirety of his torso bare for the first time. Your lips wet, your eyes unblinking, Benedict smiled cheekily, knowing the effect he had on you. His hands moved past his navel, your eyes following, to the button atop his breeches. Benedict made quick work of his trousers, having teased you plenty. Your back straightened, your gob smacked jaw snapped shut at the sight of his naked body.

Benedicts tongue flicked over his teeth, “Would you like me to redress, y/n?” He badgered, pretending to reach for his shirt on the floor. You careened forward, lessening the space between you to essentially nothing.

“I do not know what to do, not truly” You admitted, feeling yourself choking on nothing. Benedict reached out to your hands, taking them in his, placing them on his chest. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling of his light chest hair beneath your fingers. His sculpted pectoral muscles and taut stomach, a trail of dark hair leading you downwards made you feel ravenous for him. He looked at you as you looked at him, eyes filled with desire, faces pink in the candlelight. Benedict leaned in to kiss you, pulling away left at the last second to place a single kiss on your neck.

“You. Are. Wicked” Your face flitted over his, grazing your noses and lips together in potential kisses. Benedict leaned into you, his kiss soft, warm, and breathless. You gasped at the first separation, taking in hasty breaths before crashing back into each other. Everything you were doing felt completely wrong, reprehensible – but with a kiss as intoxicating as Benedict Bridgerton’s, you were afraid not even heaven could help you.

Your hands slipped into his thick, dark hair, pulling him down and into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing up onto him. His hands rested under your thighs, carrying you toward his bed, you could feel his hardness pressing against you. 

This was not what you had been expecting, this was no impish boy. Everything about his movements was intentional, well-practiced. His hot, amorous kiss; the way his tongue slipped thankfully over yours, how his teeth greedily nipped at your auspicious bottom lip. His hands moved passionately across your back, his long kisses surprisingly hard on your neck, laying you down on the pile of bedding. He frantically shoved it off the bed, throwing pillows, knocking himself in the face once or twice. You laughed together, slow sizzling tongues dancing as one as Benedict removed your floor length under gown.

Benedict knelt above you on the bed, gently stroking himself, looking down on you. There was that dark cloud you had noticed earlier.

“I want you to enjoy me” Benedict rumbled, making you a promise. You did not yet understand, but you would. Taking his finger, Benedict dipped it into your mouth, bringing it to your nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb at a glacial pace. His touch was peculiarly possessive, his lips rested around your other nipple now, sloppily dragging his tongue around in spontaneous circles. Big open-mouthed kisses surrounded your breasts, your shock and surprise manifesting in noiseless writhing.

Benedict positioned himself between your legs, lying down forcing your legs apart. Wanting to snap your legs shut, you refrained, trusting Benedict with your life. His breath was agonizingly warm on your inner thigh, his lips parted and gliding up from your knee. Benedict dotted small, chaste kisses along your hips – you deduced he was headed for the pinnacle of your thighs, a place you had never felt burn and ache quite like this.

His tongue slid gently up the slit of your pussy, you breath shuddered, his harmless laps amazed you with every movement. Eye lids fluttering, breathy moans filling the room, Benedict’s graceful tongue swirling your clitoris in curious patterns, drinking in your wetness as though you were a drug to him. Your fingers crawled down into his hair, your hips bucking toward his retreating tongue, you squealed lowly for more.

“Are you quite alright?” Benedict groaned into you, the vibrations of his voice set you on edge, your toes clenching in different ways.

“I do not know what you are doing, but I would like for you to keep doing it” You moaned intermittently, between gasps as his tongue flicked roguishly at your clitoris.

Benedict spread your legs wide and high, taking his finger and resting it at your entrance. He tediously sunk his finger inside you, curling up, making you yelp out in astonishment. Finding a steady pace, his finger already snug inside you, Benedict began at you again, never failing to find exactly the spot he was looking for. His alteration of speed and pressure backed you onto a cliff face, body incandescent and damned to revelry. Pressing his fingers into you rhythmically, Benedict pushed you over the edge, the sensation of falling and flying all erupting at once as you moaned and yelped uncontrollably. In the aftermath of your pleasure, you watched Benedicts eyes, his head still clutched between your legs gently sliding his tongue over you, his charming, sexy smile reflected in his eyes.

Slowing rising to his knees, Ben positioned your legs higher, resting your calves on his shoulders. Taking his cock in his hand, his pressed his tip against your wet skin. Your skin erupted in a tingling sensation, unbridled attraction and hunger liquefying your brain.

You looked up at Benedict in clear understanding, nodding gently, your eyes focusing on the powerful look of restrained urgency on Benedict’s face. He pushed forward smoothly, eliciting a groan from each of you, not even pressed to the hilt yet.

When Benedict filled your pussy fully, it felt like being winded. Panting like a dog under him, Benedict stilled himself, noticing how full and tight you felt, his cock twitching with pleasure. Benedict moved slowly at first, long unbroken strides forward, thrusting into you. Every drive forward, simultaneously blissful, and hot, curving to pound into that sensitive spot just inside you. While every drawback, was likened to slow-motion, devastating deprivation. Ceaseless, savage moans made Benedict grin above you, thrusting harder, wholly triumphant in setting you alight. You knew you would burn for him for the rest of your life.

“Make that sound for me again” Benedict grunted sinisterly, thrusting back into you brutally, forcing that loud intonation from you again.

Your fingers clawed at his back, your hips moving with his in most divine unison. Benedicts teeth grazed your ear, your breathing syncing in ceremonious adoration; his momentum increased, driving into you with new eagerness. Your nails buried in his plump behind, pulling Benedict tighter into you. With propulsive sureness Benedict plunged into you one last time, his cock twitching inside you to his irrevocable release. Never had you felt so full before, his face exquisite above you, leaning down to a soulful kiss.

“I’m proud of you, taking me like that” Benedict panted, taking a second before withdrawing and rolling next to you. He lay on the flat of his back, chasing his breath, his heart thumping through his chest, beating so hard you could almost hear it. His words made you blush, hiding your face in your hands, his seed leaking out of you onto the linen.

“It is not always going to be the same, is it?” You pondered aloud, staring at the detailing on the ceiling above you.

“I will not lie, y/n darling, I do not think every single instance will be the same” Benedict reached over, gently slapping your thigh in solidarity.

“That is disappointing to hear” You sighed dramatically.

Benedict chuckled sweetly, “Perhaps at his age, he will not have the capacity to complete more than the marital act”. You knew he was joking, trying to lift your spirits, but you genuinely hoped that might be true. Other worries began to plague your mind, worries of potential children. What if you were unable to conceive his heir due to his age?

You rolled onto your side, looking into Benedict’s clear, sky-blue eyes, “There may be another favour I ask of you, dear friend”. Benedict's eyes widened curiously, prepared to do most anything for you.

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Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @saintmagx //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!

[vampiricgf]

— v. lycaon | stay soft, get eaten

·₊̣̇. ⊱ warnings: fem reader, dubcon, aphrodisiac, yandere, oral fem receiving, clit sucking, cervix fucking, knotting, creampie, extremely unrealistic depiction of sex, he calls you master n is a lil obsessed with you, not edited/proofread

wc: 2k+

the grip he has on me is insane now if only he'd be gripping up this [REDACTED] sobs

You were so lucky to have an attendant as well prepared as Lycaon. After spending the evening unable to sleep, angrily listening to birdsong as the light peeking in from the window grew less and less subdued, he had suggested you take a simple supplement and attempt a nap upon seeing you still laying in bed at his arrival. After all getting rest was the most important thing and if something would come up he could easily handle it for you without letting you rest excessively.

Just enough to be able to get through the day yet still feel appropriately tired come night, that was what he promised after handing a small tablet to you which you gratefully accepted. Lycaon had been sweet and thoughtful from the moment he started at your estate with the Victoria Housekeeping contract, and was always so adamant about remaining at your side.

When the room begins to soften at the edges you don't question it, it may be a mild effect from the pill or your own deprived brain. Focusing on the beat of your heart was easier, keeping your eyes closed as you remained tucked into bed. A heaviness spread through your limbs, delicious and reminiscent of a sleepy cat in the honeyed afternoon sun as you roll onto your back to stretch against the warm sheets.

The brush of them against your skin sends an unfamiliar sort of heat spreading beneath the surface of your body, an odd feeling of wishing it was replaced with physical touch, yearning suddenly for a certain thiren that you knew wouldn't be far from your bedroom.

You try ignoring the growing ache between your thighs, uncomfortably turning over and over from side to side as the temperature rises. Before long you have to thrash the covers off to rest barely covering your legs, nearly panting with the volatile mixture of desire and no sleep.

Thinking of calling for him you bite your bottom lip, a small whimper coming from low in your throat. As you struggle with the inappropriateness of the urge little do you know he's just opposite the bedroom door, listening intently to you with barely contained self satisfaction thrumming through his veins.

It's hardly appropriate for an attendant to be pining after their master, but say you were feeling struck by some overpowering need, what kind of attendant would he be to refuse if you begged for his help? Truly he'd done it on a whim, it just so happened that today was the perfect opportunity to act and perhaps it was simply fate.

"Master?"

His voice jolts you out of the thick fog of lust as he steps through the doorway, unable to bear the sounds of you whimpering for him any longer. With quick steps he's beside you, a hand coming to rest delicately against your forehead which nearly makes you moan from the contact. Your skin glistened with a sheen of sweat and the scent of your arousal was heady in the balmy air, if he were less composed it would've made him drool instantly.

"Are you ill?" Faux concern laces the words as his eyes trail from your face to your heaving chest, your top having bunched up just beneath your breasts was a tantalizing challenge to his self control.

"I can't sleep- feels like I'm on fire," you whine, your eyes fluttering closed and he's grateful for the chance to ogle you openly.

"Do you require my help?" The tone of the question leaves little room for interpretation, the almost breathy way he asks betraying how clear your neediness is to him.

It should make you embarrassed, you should wave him away with a demure no I'll be fine but you can't bring yourself to speak the words aloud, nearly choking on how much you ache for him to touch you again. In a distant corner of your disconnected mind you wonder if thirens can smell things like arousal and perhaps that's why he offered. It makes your thighs clench together hard, the muscles flexing beneath the skin. How lucky you were to have someone so dedicated to attending to your needs that he'd even offer.

"Wouldn't be- appropriate-" you force the words out between deep breaths, desperately trying to regain some self control as your eyes find his.

He looked so handsome knelt by your bed, his singular visible eye shining with concern. You want to smooth the worry from his face with a hundred deep, frantic kisses, so powerful is the urge it's more like being gripped by madness.

"You don't need to worry, as my master I can't let you remain in this state without intervention." The words are so syrupy sweet to your ears, his voice low and sending delightful shivers down your spine.

If he's saying it's okay then why worry about impropriety? Once again you can't help the surge of thankfulness at his presence and his loyalty to you.

Gingerly he grasps your hand in his much larger one, bringing your arm up before placing the softest kiss to your inner wrist. The sensation of his lips against your skin is enough to make you squirm, back arching slightly just from the barest contact.

"Mm, don't know what's wrong with me," you breathe harshly as his mouth maps a trail from your wrist up your arm, your shoulder, and before you register it he's above you and those clawed hands are roaming the overheated skin of your stomach and it feels like every sense you have is being overcrowded by him.

If you had the wherewithall you would have perhaps been ashamed to be so openly writhing and moaning beneath him with your hands fisting in the material of his shirt but given the way he makes you feel like you'll crack apart in the next millisecond there was simply no room for things like humiliation or shame.

"Will you let me help you, my master?"

The request is accompanied by the feeling of him sucking on the side of your neck, sharp teeth barely ghosting over the delicate flesh he could easily rip. Why does everything feel so much more sensitive than usual? If you could think straight it would be a more pertinent question, but against the feeling of his hands cupping your breasts and urging you to help him remove your shirt the concern washes away like sugar in hot water.

In a way Lycaon is glad for your habit of wearing little to nothing in bed, because it feels like this is exactly what you wanted to happen. Each evening it was like the single greatest test of his resolve to not immediately give in to the urge that screamed to rip those skimpy clothes off you and fuck you until your pretty eyes were full of tears and that tongue of yours was only good for sounding out his name.

And he hadn't lied earlier, not fully. That pill would help you with your sleeping troubles eventually but the less than mild aphrodisiac effects would kick in first. It's no concern though, because that's what he's here for, to service you as his master. And so what if it happens to be a shockingly convenient avenue for satisfying his own desires? Who could blame a devoted attendant for loving their master so greatly?

As you shift your hips impatiently he's all too eager to indulge you, hooking a hand beneath your thigh and pushing one leg up in order to slot himself better between your legs and feel the tantalizing heat radiating from the apex of your thighs.

You can feel the way his bulge throbs against you through your clothes and it's exciting, like his body is begging for just the same release as yours and his movements have taken on a more predatory tinge- caging your body with his forearms on either side of your head now, nipping and sucking at your bottom lip in between sloppy kisses and the rhythmless, frantic grinding of his hips against yours.

"Want you, please," it leaves your lips as a pathetically desperate whine as you roll your hips to meet his in a pantomime of unclothed thrusts. Feeling his erection strain against layers of clothing has only served to make you feel even more delirious, like you're on fire and he's all that could hope to put it out.

"Like this?" The question is needy, nakedly desperate and it makes your fingers claw against his soft fur, pulling him down to kiss you again in a flurry of teeth and tongues.

You give an airy mhm and his head dips down to your chest with a particularly sinful groan, teeth ghosting over the swell of your breast before his hands are on you again, nearly ripping the flimsy pajama bottoms off of you in his haste to get you undressed and knowing you're so impossibly close to finding relief for the all consuming ache in your body makes you sigh contentedly for the first time as the air brushes against your clammy skin.

His movements are quick, snaking down on his belly and brushing his nose against the skin of your inner thighs. You can hear the deep inhale he takes, feel the way your body flushes hot in response. His hands run up and down your feverish skin, riling you up and when his tongue licks a fat stripe all the way up your flesh until his face is pressed against your pussy you can't help the way you moan his name so brokenly, a sound more akin to cracking porcelain.

And it's then that his self restraint seems to snap cleanly in two, his claws nearly digging into your thighs, nose bumping against your achingly puffy clit as his tongue delved inside your soaked entrance. It was impossible, feeling him as deeply as you were and he wasn't even using his fingers. Your own twisted into the bedsheets so hard they should have torn, your mouth open as your hips bucked wildly against his face.

Soon enough he held one arm across your hips to pin you down and lessen your squirming, alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, his sharp canines occasionally brushing dangerously against the sensitive bundle of nerves. With every drag of his tongue it felt like a coil winding back tighter and tighter inside your gut, hands fumbling to touch any part of him you could grasp as he retained his unrelenting pace never wavering in the attention he lavished your pussy with.

And all too soon he's pulling away from you, leaving you to keen high and pathetic at the loss of him, panicked eyes frantically locked on his figure as he drags himself back up to face you. Before you can whine too much he's shushing you with a deep, languid kiss and giving you the secondhand aftertaste of yourself on his tongue. For a brief moment you wonder if you've died and this is the afterlife: one long satisfaction of desire.

"I don't mean to tease, but I need you in another manner master." And you don't need to to ask what he means, feeling what must be his painfully hard erection rubbing against your bare, soaked cunt. Thrilled eagerness skips like electricity through your bloodstream, already rolling your hips to beg for it before your mouth even opens.

And like the wonderful attendant he is Lycaon obliges before you have to say a word. His hands deftly shed his clothes, now rumpled and twisted, before discarding them on the floor in a heap. Your bottom lip catches so hard between your teeth at the sight of him it's a miracle you don't draw blood.

Even in your most vivid fantasies there's simply no way you could capture just how gorgeous he was, and you can feel your eyes widen as they settle on the sight of his now freed cock. The tapered tip, flushed red and needy, glistening with precum, the girth of him enough to make your eyes water, and the length promising that he can easily kiss that spot inside you that turns your vision to static.

You could start drooling from how badly you need him inside you, a fresh wave of overzealous longing battering against your mind like waves against a rocky coastline. As he leans down, supporting himself on one forearm beside your head you meet his eyes again, seeing an amused look on his face that made you squirm in embarrassment at being caught so openly admiring him.

The scent of arousal and sweat is so thick in the air even you can catch it, it must be driving him insane. The thought nearly makes you giggle but the press of him against your entrance cuts off any sound you could hope to make, mouth left hanging open as he starts the slow press inside. Tears instantly push against your waterline, threatening to spill both from the painful adjustment to his size and because nobody has ever made you feel so full before.

He's barely midway inside and you're already panting, chest heaving as you mewl out his name and grab onto his shoulders like he's the only stable thing in the world. Your fingers find purchase in his soft, snowy fur and as his swollen, fat knot settles against your entrance you feel a rush of the most perfect bliss. Like you two were made for each other.

The delirious thought takes root as he kisses his way from your lips to your jaw, down your throat before giving you a few gentle nips with his teeth just to make you gasp and tighten your grip on him before he begins moving.

His pace is slow, almost loving, as you feel every vein as he pulls out only to inch back inside you with ease now thanks to your excess of arousal mingling with his saliva. You can't help the way your toes curl against nothing but the air as you move to grab onto your own thighs, desperate already to feel him deeper and once again, Lycaon follows your whims dutifully.

You can't help but cry out incoherently as he presses into you again and again, the head of his cock hitting so far inside you it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs.

But it's still not enough, and you feel that coil resume it's firm windback into position, almost ready to spring.

"Please, feels so good," you gasp out, "need more- harder -" you squeal with a particularly deep thrust against your cervix and ever the gentleman he doesn't make you ask again.

Groaning low and gravelly he cages you fully with his forearms, burying his snout into the side of your neck as the obscene sounds of skin slapping and the squelching of your greedy cunt drown out anything else. Distantly you hear his claws ripping through the sheets but you can't be bothered to care, not when he's got tears running down your cheeks and your pussy clamping down on his so hard, desperate to keep him inside.

You can feel him throbbing as you curl your fingers deeper into his fur, crying out his name as the tension inside your belly reaches a head, making your eyes screw shut and your head press back against the pillows.

His own ragged breathing doesn't register to you, so lost in the throughs of your own orgasm, but his teeth are gritted, bared in a silent snarl feeling the way you clamp down, the way your walls rhythmically try milking him for all he's worth and in an instinct driven haze his hips move in an even more brutal pace, sure to leave bruises against your tender flesh as the maddening need to cum inside you overwhelms him.

There's no way he could stop himself now and he muffles your cries with sloppy, apologetic kisses, tasting the tang of saltwater as his knot finally pushes it's way in, sitting securely against the ring of muscle at your entrance and he can't stop himself from saying your name against your lips, again and again like a mantra as thick, warm spurts of cum drown your womb.

You remain locked together, you a mess of hiccuping moans and shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm and him grinding against you as if he could still fuck more of his cum even further inside you.

Your ankles shakily lock around his hips and one of his arms slides under your back, hand finding it's way down to grope and squeeze your ass as he whispers to you, words of thanks for indulging him and for allowing him to be of service that swirl dreamily around in your head as your fingers start gingerly stroking against his silky fur, soothing the spots you had twisted and tugged.

In a far away corner of your mind you recognize that this is the first time he's ever used your name to address you. It makes you smile, small and twinged with sleep. You know once he's no longer inside you he'll adamantly clean you up, move you to a different space and ensure you can sleep comfortably while h tidies your wrecked bed.

But another part of you wonders if you could convince him to forgo it all and just stay like this, warm and tangled together.

Maybe if you ask sweetly.

[kasagia]

Right hand II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~

You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.

You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.

Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.

And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.

A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.

"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.

"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.

"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…

However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.

You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.

"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.

You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.

"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…

"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."

"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.

For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.

He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.

"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.

"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.

"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.

You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.

"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.

You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.

"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.

It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.

You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.

Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.

"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.

"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.

He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.

"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.

"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.

He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:

"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.

"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."

"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.

His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.

"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.

You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.

"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"

"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.

He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.

You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.

You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.

“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."

"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.

"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.

You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.

"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.

"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.

"If I know them, then yes, why?"

"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.

"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.

"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.

"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.

"Don't we?"

"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.

"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.

He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.

You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.

You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.

The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...

“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.

As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.

“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.

"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."

"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.

"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.

"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.

Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.

It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.

"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.

He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...

"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.

"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'

He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before? 

He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.

But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.

"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.

You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.

Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.

And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.

"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.

"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.

"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.

"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."

"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.

"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.

You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.

"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.

"What?"

"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."

"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.

"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.

"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.

"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.

"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.

You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.

"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...

"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.

You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.

"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.

"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...

"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."

As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.

You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.

You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.

On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.

What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.

You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.

At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.

"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.

"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.

"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."

This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.

You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.

He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.

At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.

You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.

"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."

You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.

You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...

You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.

"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.

Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...

He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.

"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.

"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.

"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.

You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.

The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.

"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"

"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.

"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.

"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.

"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.

You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.

You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.

The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.

As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.

"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"

They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.

"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."

"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."

"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."

And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.

"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.

You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.

You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.

So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.

You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.

You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.

Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.

"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."

"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.

"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."

"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.

"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.

Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.

You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.

You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.

You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.

You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..

You were the only one left alive.

From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.

You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.

For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.

But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.

You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.

Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...

Part IIITaglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13

[livelaughlovesubs]

Hatefucking with Sanemi? Hashira reader and Sanemi have a history of tension between each other and reader challenges that he wouldn't be able to handle the strap. He's confident, but by the end of the night you have him flat on top of you with his tongue lolling out while he sloppily rolls his hips into your length

Dammn- alr let’s go I did learn to appreciate him, somehow (also the sub kny fandom is still alive?)

Dom!hashira!reader x sub!sanemi - reader is gn

Warning: pegging (I use dick to refer to it), taking virginity, teasing, a tiny bit dacryphilia, cursing, mind break, I got lazy towards the end

His bad attitude was as infamous as his strength, his very own trademark, a huge part of his image. He was disrespectful towards everyone except the master, and frankly, he seemed to hate you to most. That was half justified, since you’d always bicker with him, taunting him by calling him weaker. Whenever the two of you met, a fight would break out while others shake their head. Today was no exception.

“Fuck, why do you have to keep bothering me?” Sanemi yelled, his hand on his sword, ready to pull it out at any moment. “Bothering you? I just happened to head to the same direction!” You sneered back, pulling a grimace. It was time for another hashira meeting, and just as fate wanted, you bumped into him on your way. “If you want to fight just say so.” The wind hashira glared at you, a vein forming on his forehead due to his anger.

You rolled your eyes, you weren’t in a mood for a barking dog like him, deciding to just ignore him and walk away. To your dismay, he shouted again and grabbed your wrist, “hey! Don’t you fucking ignore me!” You got pulled back by him. Agitated, you decided to not let this slide and yanked your wrist back, causing him to fall into your arms. “Let’s not fight like some brute animals today.” After catching him in an embrace, you clenched his shoulder with one hand.

“Suddenly acting so proper, aren’t you?” He snarled, letting go of you and pulling his hand back. “I just don’t want to cause troubles. How about, if you can take me, I’ll humble myself and apologise to you?” You suggested, then stopped squeezing him and raised both hands up into a surrender position. Sanemi stared at you suspiciously, but this idea of yours wasn’t unattractive in the slightest.

He wasn’t sure what you meant, even so he agreed without a second thought. “Don’t you dare go back on your words.” A cheeky smirk appeared on your lips as you said, “same goes for you.”

Maybe he should have asked what you had in mind despite his temporarily clouded judgement, because this was the absolute opposite of whatever he thought of. And that was very apparent on his face. You did tell him he can still back out and you wouldn’t tease him about it, since you didn’t really expect him to actually heed the promise. But, he was as hot-tempered as he was stubborn and insisted on continuing, mocking you by saying, “are you getting nervous or what?”

Fine, if he really wants to, who were you to stop him. That’s how the two of you got into this mess, this hot and filthy mess where both of you were striped bare on top of the bed, with him straddling your lap. You laid down comfortably while sanemi hovered above you. The deal was for you to not use your hands while he rode you, to see who would give up first. A faint blush covered your cheeks as you stared at him, at his firm muscles and pretty scars. Instead of being intimidated or even repulsed, you’ve always found them quite endearing.

Then your eyes darted back to his face, watching him with the utmost concentration. You were going to savour this moment to the fullest. His eyes were clenched shut, lips pressed into a thin line as he furrowed his brows. In comparison to your face, his was as red as it can be and sweat rolled down his cheeks. With shaky hands, he grabbed the shaft and tried to line it up with his hole, the other hand was clenching your shoulder for support. Slowly, he lowered himself onto your dick, gritting his teeth at each inch.

“You are doing great, sanemi.” You decided to give him an award praise, since you were pretty sure this was his first time. A kind of guilty washed over you for taking that from him over some measly bet. Instead of being thankful he snapped at you, mumbling, “shut up, I don’t need your compliments.” Before sticking the tip inside. And dear lord, the moan that followed was the lewdest thing you’ve heard up until now. “Ah-aAnnNG♡…?!” Loud, high-pitched and sharp, the little tremble in voice as he trailed off was just as lovely. He underestimated how painful it would be, feeling an indescribable pain course through his body along with something akin to lust.

Now he was shaking even more, slumping forward as he gripped your shoulders with both hands, using enough strength to leave bruises. He was thinking about whether or not he should continue, when his body so desperately wanted to take it out. “Uh-urghhh… d-damn it..” sanemi groaned, taking a few minutes to get used to the stretch. In the end he decided to suck it up and keep going, clutching you so roughly that his knuckles turned white.

You hissed slightly at the pain, closing one eye while bearing it. After calming down a little, you joked, “Don’t break my collarbone.” Your own hands were bawled into firm fists and kept next to your body, itching to touch and to feel him. He didn’t react to your little joke, in contrary, he was focused on taking you whole, trying to protect his pride from taking hits. With a swift move, he went down on you. “GuuUUhh..! Ah- y-y/n..” subconsciously, he called out for you, taking his sweet time bottoming out. Your ears perked a little when he used your proper name, surprised at the sudden change in character.

Without much to say, you stayed silent as you watched him pushing the entire length in, observing him overcoming his struggles. His bangs stuck to his forehead due to the amount of sweat coating him, he was still clenching his eyes shut as of now. You traced the scars on his body with your eyes. There were many large ones, turning his entire body into a patchwork. Some were even on his thighs. How you wanted to draw the outlines of them with your fingers and note gaze, how you wanted to tug his hair behind his face, so many things you wanted but couldn’t.

You gulped loudly, swallowing the lump inside your throat as he took half of your cock in. At this point he didn’t seem like the same he was moments ago. All of his movements became sloppy, clumsy even. Everything about him was shaking and you could tell he was at his limit just by his expression. The way he bit his bottom lip didn’t reveal if it was because of the pain or other reasons, but it was very likely. And the desire to just grab him by the waist and have your way with him was strong, but you decided to dispose of that thought.

After a few more minutes, he eventually sat down completely, one hand rubbing his tummy as he felt you deep inside him. “F-fuck…” He whispered through gritted teeth, instinctively trying to close his legs. You could feel his walls clenching down on you, holding you in a tight embrace. His face had a hint of struggle to it and he stayed completely still, probably adjusting to the stretching sensation. With your hands still rendered useless, you waited, observing him and noticing how he got hard.

His precum dripped down onto your stomach, creating a small puddle of fluids. It somehow put your mind at ease, to think that he was enjoying this and not just cursing under his breath. Then you teased him, “oh sanemi~ I didn’t know you liked getting fucked? Do you use your hole often?” The way he tried to slap you but stopped mid track was kind of funny. Due to him moving so suddenly he also moves his hips, causing him to inhale sharply as the pain spread again. “UrgHhh..!” He immediately covered his mouth with his palm, shoulders raised to his ears as he looked away.

“This won’t do, you have to move sooner or later.” You sighed as another idea popped up, raising an eyebrow at him before chuckling, “or is it too much for you? Do tell, I won’t force you.” The playful tone you used ticked him off so badly that he moved up, trying to keep down the embarrassing noises as he said, “you are getting rather impatient, don’t tell me it’s a ploy?” Then he slammed himself down again, and moaned loudly, “ah-aaAAAhH… w-wait..?” The tip hit something inside him that send chills down his spine, making his blush darken by a few shades. “T-the heck was that…” sanemi mumbled, he was kind of curious now, because that feeling was strange.

After that weird sensation coursed through his body, it didnt hurt anymore, instead he only felt a hot, burning sensation spread from there to the rest of his body. Not long after, he began chasing that feeling, bouncing up and down as more perverted noises escaped his tightly sealed lips. “Mhhmm..! Ngh… ah, y-you.. don’t you dare tell a-anyone about it.” He glared at you, don’t wanting others to find out about him enjoying this. Yet it didn’t feel intimidating considering the state he was in, and how adorable his face was.

At this point he was riding you with such fever that the slapping sound of skin against skin filled the room to the brim, echoing off the walls, reaching your ears. The rather lewd squelching sounds that erupted whenever he took you deep inside was not any better. He bit his bottom lips again, opening his eyes as he stared down at himself. This messy appearance of his made him feel humiliated, since he was showing this vulnerable side to you. You could also say he felt ashamed.

His dick twitched happily, bouncing against his own belly at times, creating sticky strings that connect the two parts. You could hardly contain yourself, keeping the promise seemed harder than ever before. Why did you have to propose a deal like that? And his waist seemed so tiny and grab-able in that moment, this was pure torture. Because you couldn’t contribute to making a mess out of him, you resumed to using your words to have some fun, smiling as you asked, “are you enjoying this? Or do you feel like giving up?”

“H-haah… Never, not against you.” He scoffed, giving you a challenging smirk before throwing his head back. Hot and warm walls squeezing you the best he could, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. Though he didn’t cry, he held himself back from doing that, only whimpering more and more with each passing second. “Aw, how cute you are, putting on a show like that.” You continued, meaning every word you said. “But it looks like you are doing it because of self fulfilment instead of the bet?”

He stopped abruptly, feeling his body shake at the sudden loss of pleasure. Wait, pleasure? So he was enjoying it. He did like whatever was going on, with him on top of you, riding you like some cheap whore. A wave of embarrassment washed over him before he craved in to his desires and yelled, “urGhhh!! Shut up! I-I do what I want uHhnng, you hear?!” That boy only raised his voice because he finally noticed, how he fell into your trap. Even if he were to win and you to lose, you wouldn’t have really lost. How sly of you.

“Oh, so you’ve noticed?” You laughed, and put your hands on his hips. “?! W-what are you doing! That’s- hGhhh, again the d-deal!” His voice turned a pitch higher as he felt your hands squeezing his sides, whining quietly. Having you touch him so intimately sure was something new. Without any hints of sadness, you explained your actions. He instantly understood what it meant for him, and he gulped loudly. Though he’d never admit it, anticipating and excitement filled him from the inside. He felt himself on the verge of cumming when he heard you whisper, “I surrender, you’ve won, alright? So, time to get to business♡.”

Needless to say, you two had a great time together.

By the end of the night, you’ve turned him into a complete stranger. Eyes rolled to the back of his head, little pleads for a break and fore more slipping past his previously foul mouth. Body twitching occasionally and limp from overworking himself, slumping down against your chest.But you weren’t quite done now, were you? All you had to do was change the position and command him to spread his legs. Of course your personal fuck toy would listen without hesitation, tongue hanging out as he eagerly waited for you to fuck him senseless. The once proud and snarky wind hashira has been reduced to a little slut. To your good boy.

[edenaziraphale]

There's a lot to be said about the weaknesses and strengths of the writing in Dragon Age games, but for me there's nothing that trumps the way the writers' implicit biases shine through in their treatment of various characters. Anders and Solas showcase the very worst of this. Functionally Anders and Solas could (and I would go so far as to say should) operate as foils to one another. Anders is a victim of decades of abuse at the hands of both individuals and a system that demonized him from a very young age. We are given information about his childhood and time spent in the circle that makes it explicitly clear that Circles are an unjust and abusive system that traumatized him so much that he fled multiple times regardless of the fact that he knew the abuse would escalate each time he escaped. In the end, he chooses to chance death and lifelong struggle via conscription because it is his only shot at escaping his current reality. After that, in DA2, it's made clear that Kirkwall's circle is even worse. Karl is made tranquil, the templars are mad with power, and it's heavily implied that the tranquil are utilized as sex slaves and that some templars may even be selecting mages for tranquility based on their desire for them alone. In the light of all of that, Anders makes a very desperate and destructive choice. Regardless of how players feel about his actions, it's not really up for debate that the context surrounding them creates mitigating circumstances and a sympathetic backing. He was attempting to affect positive change for a group of people facing fates that the game makes clear are worse than death. Despite this, the game's writing treats him as an unsympathetic villain whose actions are not only reprehensible, but completely beyond the realm of human understanding. That dynamic at the end of DA2 carries into DAI. Solas, on the other hand, is on a quest to undo his own actions. His initial construction of the Veil and the problems that it caused can be viewed with (some) similarity to Anders circumstances in that Solas was attempting to right a wrong done by someone else, but the key difference is that, unlike Anders, who was a powerless victim attempting to free other powerless victims, Solas was on a revenge quest to avenge the death of his friend and had an incredible amount of power within the system that he existed as a part of.

His actions had horrific consequences that birthed what is essentially an entirely new existence for everyone in Thedas eons before the start of any of the games. He finds the outcome of his own actions intolerable, and seeks to reverse them. He harms friends and allies to do so, and makes it explicitly clear that he does not care who he harms or what the consequences are to Thedas or the people who live there in his quest to bring back the version of the world that he liked better. Functionally, Solas makes an excellent villain. He stands out from Anders (who operates in his narrative as a symbol of the rage and disenfranchisement of the powerless) as a representation of power and ego unchecked and the damage that they can cause.

Unfortunately, the writing of the game treats him as though he is the tragically complex victim of forces outside of his control when he is in fact the over-powered puppeteer. He is very much the master of his own destiny and he intends to be the master of everyone else's destiny as well by ripping apart the fabric of reality. No character in the series better demonstrates the writer's biases than Varric, who, as a narrator for DA2, essentially acts as the moral arbiter telling players how they should and should not feel about events, explaining what is and is not moral. His reactions to Anders stand out in sharp relief against what we see of his reaction to Solas in the Veilguard releases so far.

To be clear, I don't hate Solas as a character. I think as a villain, he works very well. His complete and total disregard for the wellbeing of others paired with his affect of wise and gentle mage are compelling to witness. His motivations are understandable from the selfish and self-centered core of us as people. He's a fantastic reminder of what happens when we decide that we know what's best with no input from others, when we pursue our desires above all else beneath the veneer of wisdom. He's fun, well rounded, and interesting. He is not, however, a tragic and morally justified sadboi victim of circumstance, and I resent that the writers treated him as though he was.

[written-in-flowers]

His Goddess: Demon!Yunho x Fem!Reader

Pairing: incubus!yunho x fem!succubus!reader x incubus!hongjoong | side pairings: demonline x reader

Genre: Smut, fluff

Word Count: 10k

Summary: Yunho is a man of strong will and principles. Work comes first. Schedules come first. Yet, when it comes to The Mistress, he is willing to throw it all away to worship and pleasure her.

Tags: demon au, master/slave dynamic, mutual pining, body worship, facesitting, bigdick!yunho, switch!yunho, footjob, voyeurism, exhibitionism, threesome, m/m/f, bisexual sex, lesbian sex, bisexual reader, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m and f. receiving), double penetration, spit fetish, panty fetish, cum swallowing, facial, cream pie, mentions of violence, mentions of human sacrifices, masturbation, mutual masturbation, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, reader is a hoe and so is everyone else.

Previously on Pretty Lady > Next

Pretty Lady Masterlist

***

The key to being a good Head of House is knowing the masters. Yunho knew their daily schedules backwards and forwards. Each of them woke up at the same time, ate at the same time, went to work and came home at the same time. They took tea in the open-air garden on Fridays, went out to dinner on Saturdays, and slept in on Sundays. Yunho never missed a beat. He ran the meal services like clock work, counting down the minutes on his pocket watch. His masters never complained, and everything worked as it should. 

However, it all came to a head when you arrived. At first, you followed the same schedule as your masters. It was easy enough with Yeosang as your chief handler. Yet, one day the masters tell him you’re no longer their plaything. You are Lady YN, Marchioness of the Trees, a Lady of Eden, and Mistress of the Black Keep. This meant another set of likes and dislikes to learn, a schedule to follow, and a person to serve. Yunho expected you to follow a similar regimen as your former masters. 

You didn’t. 

Yunho never knew what you’d do for the day. With no employment, you didn’t need to wake up early. You never knew what you wanted to eat or drink. Wooyoung only made recommendations on your wardrobe, and you did your own hair and makeup. No schedule to maintain, you simply lived off your moods. You might go on a shopping trip, go to the salon to get your nails done, or walk about town with Jongho and Mingi. You may sit in your room all day, dancing or listening to music or read books and fashion magazines. Yunho never knew what to expect, and that annoyed him. 

The only consistent thing he knew was you visited your greenhouse in the mornings, checking on the plants and feeding Octavius. After you saw the masters off to work, you’d go with Jongho to the greenhouse. He’ll admit since you took over, the gardens appeared much more vibrant and lively. Octavius, formerly Dennis, and his offspring wanted for nothing, which kept the damned creature out of his hair. You’d been against feeding Octavius slaves from the city or disobedient servants. Instead, Hongjoong brought you scum from the lower dungeons to give to them. Certainly suffocating to death or being torn apart by vicious sentient plants was a worse fate. 

“You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you…”

He heard you from the entrance of the massive greenhouse. Your clear and resonant voice flowed through the branches and vines high above, accompanied by Hongjoong’s radio. Yunho only had to follow the sound down a path of bright flowers to find you near one of the mossy fountains. You danced along the edge of the stone pool, where water lilies and lotus flowers floated in the currents. He swore the lotus flowers glowed a faint pink light. Yeosang mentioned you’d been working on your botanical abilities. You knew how to regrow and speak to them; you could control their growth and patterns as well. But, that was about it for now. Watching you from afar, he understood the masters’ fascination and infatuation with you. 

You’re beautiful. You’re lively and glowing with life. Even in Hell, where misery and despair go hand-in-hand, you didn’t let it touch you. Being around you felt like being in a different time. Yunho grew up around the old-fashioned ways of his ancestors. You brought new music and culture to the Black Keep. He heard the maids saying things like “that’s bitchin’” or “take a chill pill, dude”. One of the younger footmen told him he had an “awesome bod”. Your carefree attitude and free spirit became contagious. Yunho liked it. It made his masters and staff happy, and that made him happy. 

“Don’t-Don’t you want me? You know I can’t believe it when I hear that you won’t see me-”

“-Mistress, your breakfast-”

“Don’t-” you whipped your head to him, dramatic and fierce, “Don’t you want me?”

“Mistress-”

“-You know I don’t believe you when you say that you don’t need me…” you stalked over to him, bobbing your head to the music. He found it quite comical. “It’s much too late to find. You’d think you changed your mind. You better change it back or we will both be sorry! Don’t you want me baby?! Don’t you want me ohhhh oooh-”

“-Mistress,” he laughed as you bounced around him, “I have your breakfast.”

You continued singing to your plants. He noticed the glowing lotuses brightened to the tune of the song, various pinks and whites in the dark water. A new ability, he assumed. He placed the breakfast tray on a table nearby, then turned back to you. You were breathtaking today. Not because of your tight high-waisted shorts or the blouse that flattered your shape. The light in your eyes, the carefree way you sang and danced around made you beautiful to him. He sometimes thought he might be in the presence of a goddess, a being higher than himself who came to bless him with her beauty. 

A beauty he appreciated every night through a peephole. 

“Thanks, Yunho,” you smiled, catching your breath. “Is it Cook’s egg bowl?”

“With potatoes, scallions and bacon bits as requested,” he nodded. “I took the liberty to brew you a dark roast this morning. Jongho mentioned you favored it over the medium we normally brew.”

“Aw, Yunho,” your smile gave him butterflies. Watching you come over to the tray, you fixed your coffee, “You’re so sweet.”

“I’m only doing my job, Mistress. It’s my duty to make sure you’re always comfortable and happy.”

“Or Seonghwa will feed you to Octavius?”

“It is a scary punishment,” he joked back. 

The fact that he’d made you laugh brought out a smile. “Ooop,” you giggled over your steaming cup, “I did it.”

“Did what?”

“Make the Head of House smile.” You hip bumped him, “Don’t be such a statue. You’re cute when you smile.” 

“I can smile,” he excused. He never realized it until he met you that he rarely laughed. Not that he can’t joke around, he could. His job simply took up too much time for that sort of thing. He took a look around to see if he caught Jongho anywhere. “Where is Jongho? He is meant to be here with you.”

“He’s with Yeosang,” you said, walking over to a swing made of branches and flowers. Sipping your coffee, a tangle of vines pushed the cart over to you and you started eating. “They're bringing more lights.”

“More lights?”

“Hongjoong wants to take pictures of me,” you said. “Did you know he does photography?”

“It is one of his hobbies.”

“His least sexual ones,” you noted, scooping up more egg and sausage. “I was looking around for a book in his room and I found his portfolio. He takes really good pictures. I mean, most of them were people in bondage or lingerie, but still tasteful. I asked him about them and he told me he likes to do it from time to time, so he said he wanted to photograph me.”

“You'd make a splendid model, Mistress,” Yunho said, trying not to notice your lips around the spoon. Did everything you do have to look good? “Will you be needing anything else?”

“Not right now, thanks.”

“My pleasure.”

He bowed, and then left. Then, he saw Master Hongjoong come through the greenhouse doors. He noticed the black duffle bag and camera around his neck. 

“Morning, sir,” Yunho stopped to bow. 

“Morning. Is YN here?”

“As always.”

“Good. Make sure nobody disturbs us for now,” he said, adjusting the camera around his neck. “I don't like being interrupted.”

“Of course, sir.”

Hongjoong walked down the garden path, and an idea came to Yunho. Lunch service wasn't for a while. His staff all knew their duties and knew the penalty for falling behind. He could spare a few minutes. 

Waiting until Hongjoong disappeared, he went down the opposite path around the greenhouse. He still heard the radio playing, soon followed by Hongjoong’s voice. Hiding behind a lattice divider of flowers, Yunho saw you and Hongjoong through the holes. It reminded him of the ones back in the keep: small concealed holes he'd cut into walls and paintings to spy on people. He'd originally done it to keep an eye on the staff, but he soon learned it came with other benefits. He'd grown fond of watching the masters with their servants. Watching their hard bodies rut into the soft forms of their partners aroused him to no end. The idea that they had no idea made him harder. Eventually, Master Seonghwa discovered these holes, and began enjoying them as well. Now, it was his favorite thing. H

e stood against the divider and watched you pose for Hongjoong. The photos started off innocently enough: you posing with flowers and on the edge of the fountain in various angles, and slowly removing clothing in each shot. Blood rushed to his core when you knelt naked in the fountain. Flower petals clung to your wet skin in places, and the glowing flowers added an ethereal mood to it. You might be a goddess emerging from the pool, covered in the flowers you loved so much. You could be offering him your body in exchange for his undying faith. 

Hongjoong stopped snapping photos when he could no longer control himself. You sat kneeling in the pool, thighs spread as vines crept up your body. Yunho’s jaw dropped when one of them slid into your mouth. You truly are a sinful sight. How could anyone expect to resist you? He stood there, hot around the collar, and observed. Hongjoong unbuckled his jeans, pushing his hips to your face as the vine slithered down your body. By the stifled moans, your vine had entered you. Yunho let out a soft sigh, unable to look anywhere but at you. 

You should be worshiped. You are an exotic nymph who comes to seduce and ensnare him. He'd gladly step into the water if it meant tasting your lips, regardless of what happened after. He knew he could have you now, if he wanted. No longer a pleasure slave, you could seek out others. He'd let you collar him right away. He groaned softly when Hongjoong tapped his cock on your tongue, sliding it up and down before pushing back into your mouth. Yunho began rubbing the tightness in his trousers when you spread your legs for Hongjoong. He watched the redhead set you on the dirt and slip into your warm cunt. He had a view of where you both met; the mere shadow of his thick cock filling you had Yunho stroking himself soon enough. 

It was when you rode Hongjoong that he came. You arched your back so your round ass stuck out. That way, he saw the hard cock stretching you. You looked so beautiful this way: hair tousled, body shimmering with sweat and your pussy wetting the dick inside you. He couldn’t help imagining you opening your mouth as he jerked himself over you. You'd catch every drop; his offering to his divine goddess. Yunho gripped the wooden divider in front of him as his body contorted to his orgasm. In quiet, restrained moans, he spilled his cum all over the floor. Your own orgasm came shortly afterwards, coming in time with Hongjoong’s upward thrusts. 

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” Hongjoong ordered, moving to stand over you. 

‘Cum in her mouth,’ Yunho thought hungrily. ‘Cum in her slutty mouth.’

He did. What he loved more was you licking Hongjoong clean. Yunho took deep breaths, tucking himself back into his pants when he noticed. Hongjoong's tip in your mouth, you glanced over to his hiding spot. He swore you made direct eye contact with him. You slid your tongue up and over the bulb of Hongjoong, sucking whatever remnants you'd missed the first time. He needed you. He needed to fuck you senselessly; he needed to worship and pleasure you. 

“Can we keep going, Master?” you asked innocently, stroking Hongjoong. “I haven't been fucked in such a long time. I can't stop now.”

“Give me those pretty lips and we can definitely go again.”

Yunho ended up watching each hot, sweaty, dirty round. He'd never cum so much before. You truly must be something divine. 

A goddess. 

*****

You realized you enjoyed teasing Yunho. Not only did the butler give adorable flustered looks, but his squirming contrasted his stern, professional appearance. It reminded you of Yeosang, who kept his composure even in the face of your naked body. You'd been sure that when he spied on you in the greenhouse, he'd come and taste you himself. But instead, he stayed hidden the entire time. So, you decided to signal him in other ways.

You spent a whole week eating creamy cakes and tarts to make white messes around your mouth. Yunho swallowed thickly when you locked eyes with him. He'd watch you lick the cream from your fingers or wipe it from your mouth with fascination. You thought for sure he'd give in then. Everyone else did. Instead, he’d offer his handkerchief, a white cloth embroidered with gold thread. 

You then tried a more direct approach. Yunho often came by your room for status reports from Jongho and Yeosang. Since discovering this, you often entangled yourself in the pair right before he showed up. He stayed to watch only once. You saw him drool over your bouncing breasts, and bend a little to catch them both inside you. You begged him to join, but he stayed silent. Couldn't he tell how badly you wanted him? When this didn't work, you started simply walking about the keep naked, especially in the servant areas. While you let other servants have their look, it was Yunho you focused on. He liked your tits, you knew that much. He'd bit his inner cheek when you allowed cream to drop from your chin to your breasts. 

He. Did. Nothing. 

Yet, his resistance only made you want him more. With his long limbs and broad body, Yunho stood out from the rest of the servants. You knew many female servants found him attractive, and you agreed. His curved horns came from the sides of his head, and in the right light you saw the silver bands gleaming around them. His tail, skinny and long, had another band right underneath the arrow-shaped end. Seonghwa explained to you that children of Mammon, Prince of Greed, often adorned themselves with silver or gold. He told you off-duty Yunho wore silver earrings and piercings. You doubted you'd ever see “off-duty Yunho” since Yunho worked more than anyone else in the Black Keep. 

Which is where your teasing came in. Out of all the servants, Yunho shows the least interest in sleeping with you. Aside from your first time with San, where he'd watched, the house manager kept his distance. He only really served the lords, since Jongho and Yeosang are your personal servants. But, as time went on in the keep, you began wondering if the incubus avoided being alone with you. Maybe he didn't enjoy sex the same as the others; he might be more spectator than performer. That did leave a smudge of disappointment, since you found Yunho’s puppy-dog eyes and large hands attractive. Now that you can sleep with whoever you like, you want a slice of every pie and cake in the place. He had plenty of opportunities to indulge in your pie, but did not. 

You wondered what made the butler tick. Yes, trying to coax him into your bed might be a bit messed up, but you knew he wanted it. You could tell whenever he saw you naked; whenever you showed him your tight sex being filled by someone or bounced your tits on purpose, his eyes lingered there until he remembered his place. Trying to get him only made you ache for him more. 

“Linette?” 

Linette, a succubus of 180 years, was one of the younger maids in the house. Tight brown curls hung around a heart shaped face, with pouty lips made for kissing. Her golden brown skin glowed from her beauty and her kind’s natural radiance; almond eyes batted long lashes that gave off an innocent appearance. In her black and white uniform, you understood the males’ fascination with her. She'd finished ironing one of Seonghwa’s shirts as you approached her. She stopped at once, and stood up straight. Thankfully, only you two occupied the scullery. 

“Yes, Mistress?” she asked in her soft voice. 

“I had a question, and I don't want anyone else to know,” you began.

“I swear anything you say in confidence will stay with me,” she said quite proudly. 

You moved closer to her, “Where are the peepholes?”

“The peepholes? I-I don't know what you-”

“-I know you know,” you said. “All the servants do. You must have looked through one before. I know they are in the secret passages around here, but which rooms? What parts of them?”

She fiddled with the end of her apron, clearly torn between honesty and lying. “They're mainly in the bedrooms,” she finally admitted, “But there are some looking into the study, the music room, the main library, the lounge and a few other places.”

You snorted amusedly, “You know where all of them are, huh?”

She turned away shyly. “All of us do, Mistress. It's a sort of recreational activity around here.” She stepped to you, “I can show you where they are, should you wish to enjoy them too?” 

“That’d be awesome. Where’s the first one?”

Linette escorted you around the keep. The first peepholes hid inside paintings around Hongjoong’s apartment: one looking into his bedroom and another in his dungeon. She then took you to the one in between books in the library, the two peeking into the lounge, one looking through a mirror in San’s personal gym, several in all the bathrooms, one inside a low painting in Seonghwa’s music room, and one peering inside the kitchen. She then took you through the dimly lit passages to a room you knew very well.

Your bedroom.

Linette explained yours is the newest, most popular one. You suspected this much whenever you caught a footman or a maid looking at you. Seonghwa mentioned it a few times to you, but you didn’t think too much about it. The possibility someone might be watching you intrigued you. You never minded in the brothel. Most of your work happened in the main room regardless, so you’d shed a lot of your shame since then. As she guided you away from your bedroom peephole, a sudden noise caught your attention. The last hole happened to peek into your dressing room. No doubt many servants watched you undress in here, seeing your body in a casual setting. Curiosity got the better of you, and you stopped to remove the painted corn plug.

“Fuck…”

A rush of warmth went over you when you saw him. Leaning against one of the dressers was Yunho. Head tilted back, you saw his pants pooled around his ankles and his shirt lifted up from his narrow hips. The softly defined abdomen tensed each time his cock twitched. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. It salivated more when you saw what he jerked himself with: a pair of red silk panties. Lightly, he rubbed your panties over his throbbing length. He lowered his head to watch your panties snag on the head. With his free hand, he stroked the clothed tip until the silk became sticky with precum.

“Wow….” you breathed softly, seeing him whimper at this new maneuver. “He’s bigger than I’d first thought.” You remembered the last time you’d seen that dick. It looked delicious even then.

“Hm?” Linette walked back to see what you’d found, and she giggled softly. “Oh yes. Yunho is pretty big.”

“I think I’d have to do size training with that,” you smirked at her.

“He really likes that.”

“And how do you know?” you crossed your arms and grinned.

“We’ve…We’ve done it a few times.”

“Really?” you gasped, intrigued. “What was it like?”

“Amazing!” she said, happy to see your positive reaction. “He’s so considerate and comforting. He’s more gentle than Master Hongjoong or Mingi, for sure. When I do it with him, it’s like the first time every time. He does have a fascination with panties, which I’m sure you can tell already. He likes to make me cum inside mine so he can keep them.”

“How often have you done it?”

“Not too often. We’re both really busy, but sometimes, you know, those pent up feelings come out.”

“Does he do it with only you or others?”

“Just Mingi and myself. They’re very close, and he knows I won’t tell the other servants.”

“Are you guys, like, a thing?”

“Not really. Yunho’s not the dating type, and neither am I. We like to keep it casual with no strings attached.”

“Huh, no labels. I get that. I wasn't the dating type either. I never found anyone worth dating in the first place.” You looked back into the peephole. Yunho’s hips began moving forward, his hand jerking him faster as he grew closer to his release. “He must taste so good.”

“He does,” she confirmed. She then giggled, “I mentioned it to him once, and now he cums down my throat whenever we do it. He says he likes seeing my mouth full of cum.”

“Dirty girl,” you looked back over to tease. You started liking Linette more and more. Not only was she as beautiful as you, but clearly didn’t mind speaking frankly about obscene subjects. “If only he'd let me get a lick. He wouldn't regret it.”

“Yunho has pretty strong willpower. He won't be as easy as the others.”

“Psh, tell me about it,” you rolled your eyes. “I've been sending very obvious signals, and he just stands there and jerks off. Sometimes he straight up runs away from me. I don't get what I'm doing wrong.”

“Nothing, I'm sure. Yunho isn't really like other demons. Sex takes a backseat to everything else.”

“Clearly.”

Your sex throbbing between your thighs, you watched Yunho’s body tremble as he came. His hand gripped the dresser behind him until the knuckles turned white. He fucked his hand as if it were a real hole, squirting into your underwear while he imagined your cunt instead. Or, did he fantasize about your mouth? Your ass, perhaps? You were dying to know. A distinct wetness pooled in your panties as Linette led you out of the passageway into a room you’d never seen before.

A room made of gray marble, steps in the floor lead into a pool of crystal clear water. Circular, the mosaic piece at the bottom resembles a lotus flower in white and gold. Not exactly big, it could fit a good number of people should there be a party.

“We have a pool?” you asked Linette in surprise.

“We do. You’ve never been here?”

“No, I wasn’t aware we had one. It looks great.”

Your body flushed with heat from your arousal, you untucked your polo shirt from your shorts and flung it off. Linette stood by as you undressed yourself, picking up the pieces on the floor. Once you were naked, you looked over to her. 

“Linette? Care to join?”

The question caught the maid off guard. “Oh, me, Mistress?”

“It’s cool if you don’t want to,” you told her. “I know not everybody’s into girls and boys. I’m sure if you went and asked someone else, they’d be up for it.”

She shyly stepped over to you, “I’d like to do it with you very much, Mistress. The men aren’t the only ones who peek into your room sometimes. Your beauty truly is unique around here, and you’re…a goddess.”

The thought that even the female servants desired you pumped up your ego a bit. Moving over to her, you held her by the hips as you brought her in for a soft peck. Lips plush like petals, their warmth and taste drew you in further. Kissing down her long neck, you untied her apron and tossed it aside. Heavy breathing flowed between you as you stripped her down, gasping when you saw her supple tits inside a white lace bra. Pert and supple, you took her dark nipple in your mouth to hear her softly gasp. 

A part of you knew your kisses fueled Linette’s arousal, the woman eager for more of you. Yet, you couldn't help yourself. Sex became such a big part of your life in Hell, that you can't go without it. All the oppressed feelings in your natural life came loose in your afterlife. You wanted to sample everything like a kid in a candy store. 

Linette let out a soft moan once you cupped her round ass, whimpering when you spread them. This. How did anyone expect you not to hunger for this? Especially with so many fine specimens around? Her desire became clear when she grabbed your ass in return, squeezing until you moved into her. No doubt the low water surface teased her smooth sex like it did to yours. She moved her hands to palm and sucked your tits while you groped her ass. The drug coming from your lips fueled the flames already burning between Linette’s thighs. The scent of mixed spices clung to your nose, and you hungered for more of her. 

You’d laid her against the steps, kissing down her stomach when the door opened. 

“Linette, there you are. I have been looking…for…you.”

Yunho stood in the doorway, dazed by the sight by the pool. It took him a minute to realize what he’d walked into, and you thought he’d walk right back out. Yet, he remained frozen a few feet from you. His eyes cast down your wet bodies, and he gulped. Keeping your eyes on him, you sucked on one of Linette’s breasts. The light brushes of her hands down your sides created goosebumps. Yunho stayed stock still as you both kissed and caressed one another. His attentive stare burned fires that you couldn’t douse out. His presence made each of you want to do more and more. You expected him to eventually give into his desires and at least stick his hand in his pants, but he never did. As you and Linette took things up a level, Yunho only spectated. When Linette turned you to face him, your back to her chest, he didn’t move a muscle. Seeing her begin rubbing your pussy, you thought surely he’d cave. Maybe he preferred his women to be clothed? He did absolutely nothing when you pressed Linette to the top steps and fingered and licked her. He might as well be watching a TV show by how much he reacted. 

Yunho stood by as you sisscored, your sensitive cores sliding up and down each other. Both of you realized you’d get nothing from the only man in the room, so you came together in front of him. Seeing you both breathing deep, collapsing on the smooth floors, Yunho only nodded. 

“Well done,” he said. “I quite enjoyed that.”

“You did?” you asked in disbelief. “You’re not even hard.”

“I can control myself, Mistress. Someone in my position can't indulge whenever we please,” he replied simply. He said this, but you knew he wanted it. “I assume Linette won’t be joining the dinner service?”

“She’ll be indisposed, I’m afraid,” you answered, crawling over and kissing her softly. 

His eyes lingered on your nude, wet body. You angled yourself to let him have a full view, knowing he’ll save it for later with another pair of panties. When his eyes wandered to Linette, and his attraction to her became clear. Linette, who must be a kindred spirit, did the same as you. Yunho, unlike any other incubus in the house, coughed and bowed his head to you. He left the room, but you knew the image stuck with him as he walked out. 

You and Linette laughed softly at his reaction. The two of you stayed in the pool for a while, talking and occasionally kissing. You learned Linette is the youngest maid out of the entire staff, which makes her the most sought after by the masters and others. She’d been born into a poor family, distant relations to Prince Beelzebub, Prince of Gluttony, and she started cleaning houses at a young age. Not everyone, she told you, became pleasure or house slaves. A good chunk of low-ranking demons worked in the houses of the elite as maids or butlers. 

“Like Yunho,” she said, drying herself off. “He’s a great-great-great-great-great grandson of Prince Mammon. He had a bit of money, and his father had a title but he’d squandered most of it in the gambling dens. Yunho became a butler to pay off family debts at first, but then he joined The Black Keep when he befriended Master Seonghwa.” 

“You know a lot about him, hm?”

She smiled shyly, “We do talk socially and after sex in his room. He’s so intelligent and wise. I’ve learned a lot from him since I’ve been here.” 

“Aw, you have a crush.”

“No, I don’t,” she shook her head, laughing. 

“That smile’s telling me different,” you teased in a sing-song voice. “Is he your type?”

“Tall, smart, with big eyes and a huge dick? He’d be anybody’s type.”

You and her laughed. You liked Linette, you decided. After this, she became part of your own “staff”: Yeosang managed everything (despite pretending it annoys him), Jongho tended to you personally, Mingi guarded you, and sweet, pretty Linette handled the cleaning and serving. It felt good, you realized, to have a group to call yours. Sure, they served you but not out of obligation. You didn’t have many friends in Hell. 

They felt like home. 

****

“Don’t leave me,” you murmured into his ear, slowly drawing out of your grogginess. “Stay here.”

Hongjoong’s soft giggle cut the silence, “I wish I could, Pet. I really do.”

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, and nuzzled his neck. You’d spent the night in Hongjoong’s bed, cuddling and talking as you both drifted to sleep. His job in the lower dungeons exhausted him, and he’d wanted comfort rather than sex. Turning over, he pecked the side of your mouth to avoid another sex-inducing kiss. 

“Just pretend it’s still night time,” you said, recalling a scene in your favorite Shakespearian play. “Everyone else is asleep, and the moon is still in the sky. You don’t leave for a few more hours,” you kissed his cheek and snuggled to his side. “Stay here.”

“It’s morning, babe,” he picked up on your playful banter. “Yunho’s going to come in here soon and draw back the curtains. You can’t sleep with the sun shining on you. It sucks.”

“No, it’s nighttime,” you said. “He’s too busy banging Linette to come in here.”

The comment pulled Hongjoong out of the conversation. “What? With Linette?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” as chatty as Hongjoong is, he can keep secrets. “But, they apparently hook up sometimes.”

“Ooh, where?”

“I guess wherever they’re both at?” you said, pushing red strands from his face. “She was showing me all the peepholes, and we caught him jerking off in my dressing room. That's when she told me.”

“With your panties, I’m assuming?”

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve dry humped him while wearing women’s underwear before.” You should have expected a lewd story. “I swore he came twice from it,” he chuckled, bringing you closer under the warm blankets. “I was trying on some stuff I’d bought from Wooyoung during my cross-dressing phase-”

“-You had a cross-dressing phase?-

“-Obviously, yes. Everyone has one,” he said quickly, “And he caught me. I asked him if he preferred the black lace or the violet satin, and he said he couldn’t choose between them. With a bit of flirting, I wore each one to see which made him cum harder. He likes satin or silk. He says they get wet easily, and he can feel it.”

“You never wear panties for me,” you flicked his shoulder.

“I didn’t know you liked that,” he said.

“I’d like to try it sometime.”

“Do you want a dress too?”

“Let’s start off with panties and see where it goes, yeah?” you both laughed, and you clung to him. “So yeah, Linette and him fuck on occasion. We fucked in that secret pool you have that nobody told me about, and Yunho walked in. Can you believe he wasn't even hard?”

“Yeah, I can. Dude's an enigma,” he said. “He can get hard and soft on cue. I have no clue where he'd learned it from, but it can be useful in certain situations. I don't think even your charms would work on him.”

“They didn't.”

“And you're disappointed,” he cooed, “Aw, the little slut didn't get the dick she wanted.”

“I haven't done it in a while.”

“You told me you did it with Linette.”

“That doesn't count.” 

He paused, “Would you, you know, do that again? With another woman?”

“I might. It'd be somewhere way more comfortable though,” you kissed his shoulder. “Yes, you can watch through a peephole or something.” 

“Psh,” he said, “The peepholes are for the servants. We get the two-way mirrors.”

“Hold on,” you said, shocked, “Two-way mirrors?”

“Yeah. The servants don’t know because they’re pretty well hidden in the walls,” he elaborated. “They’re not in every room, but most of them. Haven’t you noticed there’s mirrors in rooms where it'd be kind of odd to have them?”

“No, obviously.” Then, the thought came to you, “You have them in my rooms, don’t you?”

“Naturally,” he said. “I really enjoyed watching you and Jongho the other day. I didn’t think you’d be the dominant type.”

“I’m typically not, but I don’t know,” you idly traced his collarbone, “He’s so cute and submissive already. I couldn’t help it.” You then asked, “How would I know you’re there?”

He gave his wicked smile, “You don’t. That’s what makes it hot.” He skimmed down your side, reaching around to grab your ass, “One of us could be watching and you’d never know.” He reached down to kiss your breast, “So, feel free to touch yourself in front of one. You never know who's watching.”

“How spine tingling.”

A light knock at the door pulled you both from your heated world, and Hongjoong called for them to enter. Yunho walked into the room with the familiar sherry glass of cold serum. All the heat that built up fizzled away when you saw it. He must have guessed you’d try luring Hongjoong into sleeping with you. Either him or Seonghwa, you’re never sure. Hongjoong rolled onto his back and you rested on his chest. You both wore pajamas to bed, so you only felt him through the shirt and shorts he’d worn. A part of you longed to drag your clothed sex over the bare limb until you came all over yourself, but you knew better.

“Morning, Yunho,” he said in a hoarse voice, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Morning Master, Mistress,” he bowed his head. “Cold serum, sir. Master Seonghwa thought you might need it.”

“Of course he did,” he huffed. “He just wants her to himself,” he wrapped you tightly in his arms and kissed your forehead.

Since losing your slave status, you didn’t have to adhere to quality time days with your lovers. You mostly did to avoid them fighting over you, but if you preferred San over his brothers one night, they couldn't argue. They thought you never noticed the sneaky tactics they’d use to get you into their beds instead. Their small spats amused you; it made you feel desirable and important, two things you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“I suppose I will,” he grumbled, leaving the bed and taking the small glass. He downed it in one gulp, hissing from the cold syrup in his mouth. “I hate that crap,” he said. “I’m already going to the coldest place in Hell. Now I gotta walk around with this stuff in me.”

“Master,” you whined, reaching to his back to trace his spine, “I can warm you up.”

He laughed, “Yunho should have brought you one, naughty girl.”

He turned to kiss your cheek, narrowing avoiding your attempt at kissing his lips. “It won’t work anyways,” he said, catching on to it. “Cold serum’s pretty strong.”

“Even for my kisses?” you lifted your shirt up your stomach to the bottom curves of your tits.

“Especially those,” he said, reaching underneath to roll a nipple between his fingers. He smirked at your clenched thighs, “I have toys, baby. You can use those.” He smiled when he kissed beneath your breast, “My needy baby. You’ll get to have it later, I promise.” He raised your shirt over them, and took one in his mouth. The gradual whirls around the middle added to your growing arousal. “Go to your greenhouse if you’re so horny,” he pulled away. “Your little plants don’t say no to their mistress.”

“But I want you,” you pouted, sucking on his thumb. “I’ve gone too long without you in me.” 

“I know, baby,” he said, forcing himself to leave your side. You normally spotted a bulge by now, but not this time. Cold serum really did its job. “And you can have it later, like I said. Stop being a whore and get up.”

The insult only aroused you more. Hongjoong sensed this and laughed, “You like it when I degrade you. And people say I’m a slut. Here’s what you’re going to do then,” you gasped when he grabbed your pussy, mushing it with his fingers, “I'm going to go shower. While I'm gone, I want you playing with this lovely pussy of yours. By the time I'm done, I want you ready to cum for me. If you aren't ready before then, I’ll have to punish you. You do remember what I did during your last punishment, don’t you?”

“I do.”

He’d taken you close to orgasm multiple times before simply stopping. You remembered the frustration of him pressing a toy to your pussy only to deny you an orgasm. He’d gotten you dripping over his sheets before he left for “a snack”. The longest thirty minutes of your life with Yeosang instructed to keep you edged until he returned. Your household manager’s degrading remarks only took you closer, as well as the slaps to your cunt.

“And we don’t want that to happen again, do we?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

“Keep playing with myself until you come back.”

“Good girl.”

Hongjoong kissed your cheek then left for his bathroom. With a soft click, you knew he’d locked it to avoid you going after him. You couldn’t fight off the irritation in you. Glancing over to Yunho, you wanted to see if he’d cave this time. Two women might be too much for him. Sliding your shorts off, you kicked them in his direction.

“Mistress?”

“You like watching, don’t you?” 

“Um, well, I suppose. Master Hongjoong said he didn’t want you doing…that until later.”

“He said to hold it until he came back,” you lifted your knees and spread them, putting yourself on display. In just your panties, Yunho could only see the outline. Yet, he did fixate on the spot of wetness blotting the white cotton. Wetting your fingers, you started rolling your clit in small circles. “I can’t help it sometimes,” you whined, the tight sensation pulsing in your walls, “I get so turned on. I’m sure you know how that feels?”

“I do, actually.”

“Even when you watch me?” you giggled at his stunned expression, “I know you do. You like watching me,” you wet your fingers again to rub your clit softly, “You like watching my pussy get stretched out by a big dick. Is that your favorite thing to watch me do?”

“Mistress, I don’t think this is very appropriate,” he said, gulping as he still looked at you. “But, if you must know, I enjoy watching you on top.”

“I knew it,” you gasped as you lightly brushed your hand over your clit. “It’s because you get to see them inside me, huh?”

“Yes,” he answered as if you’d asked a normal question. “Your moans also change.”

“Do they?”

“They do. You’re fully on top of it, so their cock is directly pushing on that sensitive spot inside you,” he said. “I quite enjoy hearing the long string of moans you give when you’re first on top. Sometimes, I see you get into a particularly heated moment and bounce on it right away.” He stepped forward until he reached the bed. Even having him right beside you pushed your arousal forward. He chuckled, “Or your partner holding you to them as they fuck into you hard and fast; your ass rippling and slapping against them each time just gives me a certain feeling.” His vulgar fantasies stirred more pressure, but you pulled away. Yunho let out a long breath when you pulled both sides of your underwear to the middle, isolating your clit and wetting the fabric more. “Mistress…” he breathed, his hand resting on your knee, “Oh, Mistress…”

“Yes?” you breathed out, using your finger to tease the hard nub. The long fingers trailed down your inner thighs back and forth, while he admired your wet underwear. 

“May I watch you?” he asked.

“Only watch? You don't want to touch me too?”

He let his fingers draw further down your thigh. “You're offering me the privilege to touch you?

“I am,” you said. You recalled what Linette said. She'd called you a ‘goddess’. “I only give that to so few people.”

“Then I truly am lucky,” he said. He lifted one leg and sat on the edge. Facing you, he stayed between your ankles to keep touching you softly. “I could watch you do this all day if you asked it of me.”

“You really like watching, huh?” you giggled, finding his kink humorous at this point. 

“It's like watching porn in real life,” he said. “I get to see your body move and bend to the passion burning inside you up close. I can see your cunt,” he said, taking a deep breath, “And how wet it gets. You are…..Divine, Mistress. I never miss an opportunity to look at you in your most intimate moments. It's like coming across a rare bird. You take in as much as you can because you might not see it again.”

“Except you see me way more.”

“Not nearly enough, in my opinion.” He massaged the backs of your calves, and said, “Keep touching yourself, Mistress. Let me look.”

“With my panties on?”

“If I may keep them afterwards.”

“I have plenty,” you settled yourself against the pillows, rubbing your foot on his crotch, “So yes.”

Yunho then sat on the edge and watched you tease yourself. He let out a deep groan when your foot started sliding up and down his crotch. His eyes, however, stayed on your hand. The slight pressure hardened against the curve of your foot, and you knew he enjoyed it too much for you to stop. You should consider wearing stockings next time. When you pulled your panties aside to show him, he undid his trousers and pulled himself out for you. Heavy breaths joined soft whimpers as you teased his cock and yourself for him. Your toes rolling over the tip, applying a mild bit of pleasure made Yunho hitch a breath. As you did this, Yunho ran his hand from your toes to your thighs each time. The gentle touch tickled slightly, but you sunk too far in pleasure to take it in. You giggled slightly when he took hold of your ankle to guide your foot on his length. His cock grew harder against the sole. You guessed he really could separate himself from his desires. 

Until now. 

Eventually, he withdrew his bare length for you to continue teasing. You turned your foot inward and stroked him on one side. Yunho gripped the edge of the bed, whimpering at the light touches. He gave a particularly breathy moan once you found his balls inside his pants. You found his grinding into your foot too erotic to ignore. Your clit pulsed against your fingers as Yunho surrendered. He propped himself up on his elbows and let you have more access to him. When he looked over to your center, you spread your other leg to give him a better view. You caught a trickle of drool in the corner of his mouth, which he licked up right away. 

He suddenly pulled you over to him, your lower half between his legs. Anticipation bubbled at the closeness between you. Putting your soaked underwear back over yourself, Yunho angled his cock to slide under it. His thick tip pressed to your swollen clitoris, passing over your entrance each time. The smooth cotton of your panties became see through with your juices, which made it stick to Yunho’s shaft. The both of you whimpered and moaned at the teasing. He sometimes popped out of them to tap and rub from the outside. The light slapping became wet the longer he rolled himself around, and you started wishing he'd stick it in already. Each touch sparked sensitivity that made you wriggle between his thighs. Locked by them, you could only grip his black pants as he teased you. 

Yunho’s mouth dropped when his cock accidentally slipped inside. You whimpered feeling the head pull in and out slowly. Suddenly, your entire body felt on fire, buzzing with electricity at the same time. The desperation for more couldn't be satisfied. Withdrawing, you saw his dick glistening in the morning light. His lips parted in each moan and eyes full of longing, he made such a beautiful, erotic sight. Pictures of him pounding you into the bed formed a hard knot in your groin. His tip didn't feel enough anymore. The torture made you rut against Yunho, angling to slide further down. 

“Shall I go deeper, Mistress?” he asked, pulling out and spreading your juices around. “I only aim to please you.”

“Yes,” you sighed, “Yes, go deeper.”

Yunho lifted your legs up and maneuvered himself to be on top of you. You held onto his shoulders as he slowly entered you. Having him buried in your cunt sent new waves up your body. Legs shaking, toes curling, you clawed at his shirt sleeves as he rocked back and forth. The feeling of his girth stretching you became an instant obsession. His heavy, larger form towering over yours, you could only lay there under him. Gradually picking up the pace, your mind started spinning. The orgasm you’d been ordered to hold might arrive early after all.

“Oh, Mistress,” Yunho breathed in your ear, hands on your breasts and lips on your neck, “You feel heavenly.”

His lips and hands went down your body as much as the position allowed. Yunho memorized each part of you. You could feel him pressing his thumbs into the plumper parts, and kissing every patch of skin he reached. He sought to learn every pleasure point, every little tick and moan that escaped you. You brushed your nipples into front of his vest, enjoying the smooth satin against the hard centers. He squeezed and sucked them for you, then held them to let you enjoy the sensation. Yunho truly did wish to please you. 

“Go faster, Yunho,” you said, a plea in your voice. Your hands going through his soft black hair, he obeyed your command right away. Soon, his hips slapped against yours, the position forcing your hips a bit higher. “Yes,” you breathed, head digging into the mattress, “Just like that. Please, keep going like that. It feels so good!”

“Anything for you, Mistress,” he inhaled. “Anything.”

You brought him to your lips, pecking the pale skin there before whispering, “Then cum in my mouth. I want you to cum in it the way you do for Linette.”

“Of course,” he panted, pushing harder, “I’d cum nowhere else. Consider it an offering.” He pinned you by the wrists and went deeper, “An offer-offering to my goddess.”

“A generous one,” you gave a breathy laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist to lock him in place.

Lips parting in every moan, his eyes closing, you knew he’d cum soon. You could almost feel him twitching against your bumpy walls; he’d finish any minute if he kept going. Your own orgasm bubbled in a pot deep down, your juices trickling out in every thrust. When he began his steady pace, his head pressed right to your sensitive core again. The both of you filled the room with your groans and moans, nearly crying and screams the longer it took. You did not even notice the other person in the room.

“Is my little pet close?” Hongjoong appeared beside you in his towel. “Hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you cried in time with Yunho’s hips. “So fucking close. Please, let me cum, Master. Let me cum all over it.”

“Hm, I’m not sure,” he pondered. He sat next to you, and Yunho knelt upwards to give his hand room. Fingers rapidly moved over your clit side to side, you clung to his wrist as you wriggled around. “You look so pretty like this. Your pussy all drenched, panties doused in your pussy juice and precum,” he hummed, “Looks delicious. I don’t think Yunho wants to stop any time soon either, do you?”

“I’ll go as long as my mistress wishes,” Yunho said, holding your knees as he bottomed up. “But, no, sir,” he said, watching himself go in and out, “I don’t want to stop. She feels incredible.”

“She does,” Hongjoong agreed with his mischievous smile. You loved and dreaded that smile. “Keep fucking her,” he settled beside you, removing his towel to reveal a semi-hard cock, “I want to watch up close.”

Yunho did as ordered and continued at the same pace. Occasionally, Hongjoong spat where you met to wet you further or hold your panties aside for Yunho to go deeper. When you felt yourself about to burst, Hongjoong made Yunho stop and pull out.

“It’s so wet,” Hongjoong said, holding Yunho in his hand. He used your combined fluids to stroke Yunho slowly, keeping the butler on edge. “Come here.”

Hongjoong knelt up to Yunho and kissed him deeply. You laid there, shuddering from your denied orgasm as the two men kissed. “How come you’re not naked?” Hongjoong asked, unbuttoning Yunho’s vest and sliding it off him. “YN should see the hot bod you have. It’s to die for.”

“She wanted me to keep them on,” Yunho gasped. He let Hongjoong undo his shirt and remove it to reveal his slim torso and hard nipples. He bucked into Hongjoong’s hand as the latter sucked on them.

“And I want you to take them off.”

Yunho laid back on the bed to let Hongjoong undress the rest of him. Completely naked, Yunho’s body was no longer restricted by his clothes. Hongjoong continued stroking him and kissing his nipples until you crawled to the foot of the bed. Both of you on either side of him, Yunho lost himself in a blissful whirl. Two hands toying with his throbbing cock, two pairs of lips kissing and sucking up and down his chest, and two cores rutting into his strong thighs made him wild.

Then, you did the thing you probably shouldn’t have: you kissed each of them. Since he’d drunk cold serum, you didn’t think your amatory would counteract the potion’s strength. Hongjoong remained mostly soft the entire time, his arousal maintaining mainly a mood rather than a physical need. Yet, as you slid your tongue over his, the soft muscle gradually turned stiff. He let out a low, hungry growl that shifted the tone. His dry humping became more frenzied and his kisses became sloppy and deep. Yunho’s already horny manner inflamed your kisses.

“Suck my cock,” Yunho begged you. “I want to feel your mouth around it. Both of you.”

Neither you nor Hongjoong spoke, but instead went down his body to the aching cock. Hongjoong’s hand keeping it straight by the base, the two of you licked up and down each side. His dick, fully erect, twitched whenever a tongue flicked the head. You kissed it between your mouths, tongues sliding around to touch one another. Droplets of clear liquid were caught by either of you each time Hongjoong squeezed them out. You moaned once you saw Hongjoong sink the tip into his mouth. Little by little, Yunho filled his mouth until Hongjoong hit the bottom. The sight of Hongjoong’s mouth sucking the thick muscle made you gulp. He drooled over the head, then used his spit to coat it completely. When it was your turn, Hongjoong licked around the balls underneath, sucking softly while you worked Yunho’s dick. Yunho held onto every ounce of strength in him to not stick himself deep in your throat, but you knew he wanted to. 

It went higher when Hongjoong kissed down your back to your ass, which he smacked out of pure habit. Lifting your hips, he buried his face into your dripping cunt and immediately attacked your clit head on. Yunho grabbed your hair to start sliding up into your face. Saliva and more precum gathered around your lips, turning white as Yunho used your mouth. You couldn’t focus on anything else except them. All you wanted was to fuck both of them forever, enjoying them however you could.

They grew more excited when you moved to straddle Yunho. Hongjoong held him straight to help you slide the thickness back in your tight cunt. A constant flow of moans came once you were full. Hongjoong locked Yunho’s thighs with his own, wrapping his arms around you to help you ride Yunho, who’d lost all sense by now. Unable to move, Yunho surrendered to the pleasure.

“I don’t think Yunho will be able to resist his goddess after today,” Hongjoong taunted, pinching and rolling your nipples. His surprising strength had you bouncing from top to bottom smoothly, “Show him what he’s been missing, love.”

Hongjoong released you and you lost all control. Whirling your hips, Yunho moved around inside you. You rode Yunho until you both shuddered and quaked together. But, you didn’t want him to stop. You couldn’t let him stop now. Forcing yourself to climb off him, you rested on your side and Yunho took the signal. His larger body encompassed yours, pushing your leg up high as he fucked back into you. The desperate hunger became clearer. One hand gripping your tits, the other worked your clit. Hongjoong sat next to you, watching intently as he stroked himself. Right as your pussy started clutching his cock, Yunho withdrew and replaced his cock with his fingers and tongue. 

Head locked in your thighs, Yunho’s fingers abused your g-spot until you screamed his name. Cum shot out of your pussy into his mouth, each spurt making you more and more sensitive. Even when you finished, he aimed for another orgasm. Pulling you onto his face in a single roll, you clawed at the head board as you rode his tongue. You twitched each time it hit your clit, enjoying the spark it brought and feeling it fuel your desires. Yunho, controlled by his lust, had no trouble tossing you onto your back once again.

“Yunho,” you breathed his name, squeaking when he grabbed your ankles and pinned your knees to your chest. “God, keep going. Keep fucking me. Please.”

Yunho’s long fingers went in and out quickly, your wetness creating a slick slapping sound. He hungrily sucked and licked at your clit every so often to bring you to another orgasm. At the second one, you jerked and bucked as it hit you hard. The underwear he’d refused to remove felt sticky and moist. He readjusted them to the side before replacing his fingers with his cock. Your lips turned the reserved Yunho into a feral animal. You loved it. Pulling his hair, you brought his face to your breasts to force your nipple into his mouth. His moans tickled the supple flesh, his tongue swirling around it while he fucked you. You kept his face there as he brought you to a third orgasm. 

Yunho gave a few final thrusts as you came down, then straddled your chest. His tip inches from your mouth, you opened wide to let the stringy streams grow thicker and shoot onto your tongue and lips. His low groans came from deep in his chest, pushing through gritted teeth in each growl. His body constricted, muscles and veins in his hands showing. It finished in subtle shudders, the last bits dripping directly into your throat. You let him see the pool of cum in your mouth before you swallowed; the sight made him stick his tip between your lips to milk the rest. 

You moved your hands to the front to stroke him. He rocked through them and to your mouth. Once you had his dick in your hands, you couldn’t get enough. You wanted him to get hard again. You needed him to. You went too long without it. Right when you took him in your throat, something long slipped into your sore pussy.

“I can’t help it,” Hongjoong said. “Just keep sucking him, and I’ll dump it in you.”

You adjusted yourself for more room, arms wrapped around Yunho’s thighs. Having both mouth and sex plugged up, you gave them free usage of your holes. Nothing felt better. Hongjoong’s high, cracked moans became haggard and whiny as he came. The hot sensation you loved more than anything filled your sex. Hongjoong always fucked it back into you, hardly letting any of it come out onto the bed.

Your saliva wore off soon enough. You could tell in the way their muscles relaxed, and they grew steadily quiet. Each of them fell onto the bed, resembling puddles of jelly rather than men. While they recover, you let yourself sink into exhaustion. You became aware of the fluids on you, and you used the covers to wipe what you could with limp arms. As you wiped your chin, a long-fingered hand reached out to you with a handkerchief. It smelled of butterscotch, sweet and faint on the cloth. Yunho. You saw him inches from you, grinning sleepily as he wiped you down. You stayed still to let him continue. Another hand reached your thighs, cinnamon wafting from where Hongjoong laid. He kissed your thighs, sliding his hand tenderly over your gushing pussy. 

None of you said anything. You did not need to. Yunho pecked your cheeks, your nose and neck while his fingers danced along your side. Hongjoong laid passed out near your feet, dead as far as the world was concerned. 

“You really think I’m a goddess?” you asked curiously, not sure whether it was sweet words said under heated passion. 

“I do,” he said. “You must be one to be Lilith’s blood for certain. Whenever I see you, I find it hard to look away from you. It’s been that way since I first saw you. When I saw you standing in the sitting room, the fire behind you, wearing that ridiculous succubus costume, you enchanted me. I kept my distance because you belonged to my masters, but now…I don’t believe I can stay away.”

“I wouldn’t want you to. Who else will worship me then?” you teased, which made him laugh. 

“Plenty of people around here already do. Though, I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t be the first in line.”

The two of you giggled, and you finally gave into your exhaustion. 

*****

“You’re telling me you drank a serum, and when YN kissed you, you got hard again?”

“Yup.” 

Hongjoong knocked back his afternoon drink in one shot. He poured himself another from the small wicker table. Tea time on Fridays gave them a chance to talk outside of the house. Hongjoong didn’t particularly care for it, but it’s part of the regular weekend routines.  

“I don’t know if that means the serum was weak or her potency is that strong. It was,” he huffed, “Insane. I just wanted to keep going like a damn rabbit. The shit’s addictive. I mean, you should’ve seen Yunho. He got harder than me. I didn’t think he could do that.”

Hongjoong watched his brother rub his chin. His “thinking face”, San calls it. “We’d need to test it further.”

“Hey, she’s not a test subject,” San, sitting in the middle, cut him off. “She’s YN. She might’ve been our slave at one point, but she’s not now. She’s my Darling and I won’t let you poke at her like some kind of lab rat.” 

“If she isn’t interested, then I won’t do anything, but she must be curious. I know I am. I know you two are too.” He straightened up in his chair, no longer interested in the spread beside him. “Maybe I can call that slaver from the Scarlet Silk. He can bring something for us to work with.”

“If YN wants to, that is,” he said. 

“Yes, of course. Do you know if she’s awake ye-”

“-I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around,” your singing voice came from behind a nearby hedge. “I think we’re alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound-”

“-You have a lovely voice, Mistress,” Yunho’s voice came after. “Where’d you learn to sing like that?”

“I started singing with my mom, then I guess working with Yeosang helped too. Don’t tell him I said that, though,” you told him quickly. “We used to sing together in the garden all the time. Oh, hey,” you came from around an entryway with a smile, “Here you guys are.”

“Afternoon, Darling,” San grinned. “You look beautiful today.”

You wore the yellow wrap-around dress today. Wooyoung’s collection of 80’s fashion impressed you greatly, and Hongjoong liked the change. All of your changes delighted him. The keep felt so dead and cold. You’d brought life back into the house, and he couldn’t help admiring that. 

Maybe you are some kind of goddess after all. 

***

A/N: talk about smut from end to end lol we're finding out more about Lady every day. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to give it a reblog and a like <3

[astrow0rldx]

PAC Tarot: Who's your prominent spirit guide right now? how to connect? + messages

so we are going to be channeling your prominent spirits. choose a photo that your intuition feels you should choose. i gave a front and back cover for each pile in this reading. please like, comment, and reblog. i really appreciate it. ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

dm for personals $

Pile One - Auraya

This spirit sparks a lot of inspiration, adrenaline, excitement, passion, drive, desires, and MOTIVATION in your life. wanting to work with you, as a team, and be that light and fire. wanting you to/helping you protect your boundaries and negativity from lovers, and relationships. overall their a spark of energy, fresh, fiery. this is definitely an ancestor, you might was literally alive when they died and know their grave at a cemetery. "how does pile one know them"... this tarot deck image is a zombie from the dead in a cemetery. they are a master manifestor. probably really creative, could be connected to your sacral chakra, i didn't pull for the chakra fairy oracle yet. but they spark inspiration, bring luck into your life, opportunities, help you build foundations and stuff so you can be happy & fulfilled. I picked the pictures before I pulled the cards, so the ace of wands as overall is a confirmation this spirit is ready to fire, and has energy. Also where you could know them from wether it be present as a spirit, or when they were alive in the physical body, maybe a past life, or karmic cycle is somewhere where you worked on something with. they work together with you, they build with you. help with you school, finances, goals, projects, tasks, etc. This being your prominent spirit right now, you may have a project you need to work on and manifest and this spirit is most prominent in your life. this is a highly powerful spirit, manifestor, and probably connected with the root too (again didnt pull for chakra fairy) that is connected with divine, and your divine timing and fate. they like being pleased, and satisfied, and want the same for you. they flourish in emotional satisfaction.

okay pulling for your chakra faery card, for who they are you got aphrodite (heart chakra). and wholeness of self (solar plexus chakra). now both chakras are nude woman, so this may be a feminine energy, and may be connected to your sexual energy with the ace of wands and 9 of cups. the heart chakra and solar plexus chakra are the 2 chakras (3rd and 4th chakra) above the root and the sacral (1st and 2nd) as i mentioned before. the solar plexus and the heart chakra has much to do with self love, comfortability, acceptance, wholeness she's very connected to that.

ai computer reading after me : The spirit guide coming through here is a powerful force of transformation and manifestation, someone who embodies immense creative energy and brings forth opportunities. This guide helps align your path with destiny, constantly guiding you towards fulfilling your desires and creating your reality. They are tied to themes of love, sensuality, and personal fulfillment, deeply connected to self-love and divine pleasure. You've likely connected with this guide through your own self-improvement and mastery, particularly in moments of hard work and dedication to personal growth. This relationship flourished when you began truly understanding yourself and aligning with your inner power. They’ve always been there, waiting for you to embrace your full potential.

To connect with this spirit guide, you need to embrace a journey of completion and personal mastery, stepping fully into your own power. This guide urges you to recognize the cycles you’ve completed and take pride in the strength you’ve gained from your experiences. You’ll connect by confidently stepping into leadership, trusting in your passions, and having the courage to pursue your desires boldly. But it’s also about allowing yourself to remain open and emotionally vulnerable—approaching this connection with curiosity, imagination, and a childlike sense of wonder. Most importantly, it requires walking away from old emotional patterns or situations that no longer serve you, making space for deeper spiritual insight. Once you release the past and commit to your personal path, this guide will be there to meet you, leading you toward your truest self.

Your spirit guide is a force of manifestation and destiny, guiding you toward love, self-empowerment, and personal fulfillment. To connect, you need to embrace your inner strength, follow your passions confidently, and let go of anything that holds you back emotionally.

Pile Two - Kaelith

YOU ARE WORTHY AND BELONG. someone's grandmother forsure for some people. gives a lot of mom energy, a love of love, connection & acceptance and a burst of energy to connect with you. reallly really excited to connect with you on the other side, and very close. speaks to you through music, books, text. very auditory. how close are they to the veil? i really can feel and hear them and as i said & typing this birds start chirping and i seen the blue chakra fairy "transparency" as your card. makes sense with the blue lighting for the picture you chose. do you actually smoke? maybe you can connect with them through that, if you don't already, or don't usually do it/like it don't go smoking for spiritual reasons. you can always light an incense, to arise the air energy. you or them can actually be an air sign or have prominent in your chart. they could be a lover, or help you and be with you through love relationships.

they could've popped up in your dreams. they are an idealistic, creative and very curious. they are the type to like to know things, spy, investigate, always spirited, excited, with a lot of options, and ideas, and ways. you got a blue chakra fairy transparency, and a green charka fairy acceptance. this is definitely good energy they see straight through you, love you unconditionally and accept you. you are understood with open arms. strongly communicative. transparency and page of swords on top of each other and before i flipped the cards over i could almost hear them. you will start to see signs, things you read, hear, watch, texts, emails, school, work, all type of stuff. they have the energy of a stoner, the page of swords being next to seven of cups and ace of wands + the picture u chose. so much in the clouds, ideas, inspiration, thinking, transparent, blunt energy. you might know them from an accident, a tragic drastic change, something significant transformation.

ai computer reading after me : The spirit guide revealed in this reading is a dynamic presence characterized by youthful curiosity and a thirst for knowledge. They embody a sense of exploration and adventure, urging you to embrace new ideas and perspectives while navigating life’s complexities. This guide inspires you to pursue your passions with vigor, igniting your creativity and motivating you to take action on your dreams. Their connection to you likely stems from moments of profound transformation, where you've experienced upheaval or sudden shifts, prompting growth and self-discovery. They also encourage you to remain transparent and accept the truths of your life, fostering a deeper understanding of yourself and your surroundings. Ultimately, this guide nurtures your potential and guides you toward building a stable, fulfilling foundation filled with love and abundance.

To connect with this spirit guide, you’ll need to make a conscious decision to step outside your comfort zone and confront your fears or unhealthy attachments. They encourage you to break free from limiting patterns or temptations that hold you back, allowing yourself to see things from a new, more enlightened perspective. Emotional balance is key, so you must stay grounded and maintain control over your feelings as you navigate this connection. Ultimately, the guide asks you to release any past pain or betrayals, letting go of what no longer serves you so you can move forward with clarity and inner strength.

Your spirit guide is a force of curiosity, creativity, and deep emotional wisdom, helping you navigate complex situations and inspiring personal transformation, especially during times of upheaval. To connect with them, you need to release old attachments, face your fears, embrace new perspectives, and maintain emotional balance as you move forward with courage and clarity.

Pile Three - Talia

Hmmm, a lot of people reading this one could be from other piles. Could appear as a goodie two shoes sometimes. quiet mysterious deep. observant. could even be a main character in other people lives, or have main character complex. could go through a lot of stuff, and like to relax a lot. contemplate, journal, reflect, think. This spirit is giving strong lilith energy. She's a warrior, she can play mind games, she can cause destruction, change, fight, strong. they could be a venus sign (libra/taurus), fire sign, or scorpio or you could. they are very fun, sexy, yolo, free, passionate, adventurous. they don't play about judgement. they are fiesty and dangerous. but they are really sexually liberated, feminist, hornballs. could be someone ex partner in some life. or know them from them. or you know them for being very beautiful and attractive. they are seductive asf. confident. bold. attractive. they might be hustlers. someone who gets around in need of insecurity, finances, breakups, etc. up and leave, doesn't stay in one place to long. always fighting and competing for their security and empire. not only are they this fiesty bad seductive scary hoeish competitive money hungry girl. but they are very divinely moral, strong values, a lot of love to give, very loving, very nurturing, very caring. very playful, very free, beautiful and dangerous.

ai computer reading after me : This spirit guide is a strong, protective figure, grounded in stability and resilience, but also someone who pushes you to face internal and external challenges. They’ve likely been with you through times of struggle, helping you navigate feelings of lack or abandonment, and urging you to walk away from situations that no longer serve you. Fiercely connected to passion and inner strength, they embody transformative power, guiding you to step into your own authority and pursue what truly fulfills you. You know this guide from moments of emotional growth and nurturing energy, especially when you’ve been inspired to follow your heart and embrace your creative potential. Their energy is deeply tied to new emotional beginnings, helping you find personal rebirth through healing and self-love.

To connect with this spirit guide, you need to embrace your emotional depth, practicing compassion and nurturing your intuitive side. They encourage you to seek wisdom and structure through spiritual or traditional teachings, grounding yourself in practices that promote growth and stability. Embody patience and curiosity, approaching new opportunities with a willingness to learn, while staying focused on creating a secure and prosperous future. Reflect inward, taking time for self-discovery and introspection, allowing your heart to guide you while staying open to new possibilities. By embodying Ma’at, align yourself with balance, truth, and justice, while Pele’s fiery energy pushes you to pursue your passions fearlessly.

This spirit guide is a stabilizing force that helps you navigate challenges, guiding you toward emotional fulfillment, personal growth, and transformation through resilience and passion. To connect with them, nurture your intuitive side, seek spiritual wisdom, and embrace balance and truth while remaining open to new opportunities and self-discovery.

[astrologysaysno]

I keep giggling at 1 am in the morning about the idea of an A/B/O SVSSS Au where Shang Qinghua is an omega but absolutely sucks at it.

So imagine that he's presents as an omega, but to Shang Qinghua, he can't seem to feel it. Everyone else seems to feel his 'omega-ness' when he presented, so it's probably just him that can't feel the change. The system himself said that he was an omega (A/B/O was never canon, so Airplane wouldn't have thought about what secondary gender SQH was) so he just has to roll with it.

The rest of his story is just him flubbing and epicly failing at this whole Omega thing. Even his system has given up.

His Non-A/B/O first life as Airplane has left his brain incompatible with his body, the motor skills and instincts that you're supposed to have going with your secondary gender are out of the picture, it is not built into his mainframe, so he's basically a de-facto beta with extra no second gender psychologically speaking.

His superiors are keeping a wary eye on him, his fellow peers a wash of mixed reactions to his overall behaviour, worried about who he is and his complete disregard for norms or basic instincts.

He appears completely scent blind to pheromones, nor does he seem to be able to control his own. His master remembers a time where he was the unfortunate victim of two aggressive alphas fighting in the dorms, causing so much havoc they ended up breaking his inkbrush.

The scent from him when it broke was so acrid and sharp they immediately ceased, though he seems to be none the wiser, acting in his usual cowardly manner while shakily asking them to stop.

His martial brothers have never seen him nest in all of the years he's been on the peak. Not a single piece of clothing, not anything comfortable. He simply had a single pillow and a blanket for cold nights as he dozed off. It doesn't help that he avoids everyone like the plague, so even if he tried, he didn't even have anything to build one with

(The system tried to give him the task of making a nest, and he completely misunderstood, building an actual bird nest on his mattress. The system decided not to give nor take points, simply choosing to shame their host for this stupidity. Shang Qinghua keeps it by the windowsill, a memento for unintentionally spiting fate and living.)

In comparison to the rest of his fellow An Ding Disciples, he's antisocialism incarnate, zero bonds that connect him to anyone. (Shang Qinghua can't afford that, not unless he wants the weight of people on his conscience when he betrays his sect.)

It's kind of like that one classmate everyone is familiar with, but no one actually knows them. They just see him in class and forget the rest. He's scarily competent in group works and is capable of working with people, but he's never gonna respond to your text to hangout after the project is submitted and graded.

His master sees this as a detriment. How is he going to be able to have healthy relations with his future pack as a peak lord if he can't seem to get the initiative to actually communicate and bond with them.

So he coordinates a trial run with the Bai Zhan and Qing Jing Peak to help their own head disciples get a grip. A mission to be given to them to get them to open up and become closer as friends.

It backfires tremendously, only ending with the three of them becoming more prickly or antisocial. Only the most formal of greetings will ever seem to come out of Shen Jiu's mouth now, barely hiding his sharp demeanour. Liu Qingge seems to be at least willing to talk to others now, but his relation ship to the future leader of Qing Jing has now soured.

And Shang Qinghua is now more apathetic to the idea of bonding to his future pack, rathering to become completely detached from them.

(Shang Qinghua is destined to be a traitor, so why should he allow himself to experience the cruelty of betraying someone he cares about. It would be kinder this way)

[Love the fact that I just went absolutely everywhere with no coherent thoughts. Enjoy the word vomit I guess.]

[reginrokkr]

𝐂𝐗𝐈𝐋. Given Dain's high standing in the military of Khaenri'ah, I am still debating whether he knew or not about its dark side (which is huge and lasted for millennia if we take as a solid point of timeframe when Phanes threw the sapphire nails to mend the land from the Apocalypse, one of which landed in Dragonspine and the author of one of the stone tablets already talked about a nation without gods being built somewhere) and in case he didn't and by then he was already destined for greatness —be it by being tied to Irminsul already or something else, thus already gauging a greater picture outside Khaenri'ah, but of the world—, if he was forced to make a decision to not do everything in his power to do something for Khaenri'ah or do something else to think about the future and not so much about the shorter term (if the darkness that spread from Khaenri'ah to the rest of the world were to be left unchecked, the whole world could've gone to poop easily) and come empty-handed because what could he possibly do against the gods?

Whatever the case is, what I want to address is that chances are that in the heat of the moment, he did hate the gods when Khaenri'ah's fall happened but not even that would blind him to see things from perspective (I will touch on this a tad later). Assuming that he came to witness that even Khaenri'ahns themselves could summon the rifthounds, not so much that perhaps it was the only choice the gods had to keep all that consuming darkness at bay from the potential danger of spreading to the rest of the world (as it ended up happening anyway) because sooner or later, that would've spilled on the rest of Khaenri'ah's civilization and would be cause of serious danger to the citizens— but because people who had nothing to do with the festering obsessions for thousands of years were also brought into the equation, full blooded Khaenri'ahns or not. And what's worse: not only the gods had to destroy their home but they had to cast that bloody curse that, regardless of the purity of people's blood, was horrible in many ways.

However, and as I say, not even this blinds him to the greater scheme of the world at large if we come to think that, assuming that the first nation of Teyvat he resurfaced on was Sumeru, in helping Zurvan alongside the one-armed sage to purify that area and dispel the Sign of Apaosha he cooperated indirectly with no less than three goddesses: Rhukkadevata, Egeria and Nabu Malikata. Considering how early on after leaving Khaenri'ah that was and his still very fresh inner turmoil, there is a great strength in pulling himself together to do something like that and rise as a hero in that area, even if it was so those who continued to come to the surface would have somewhere safe where to stay or so no other innocent people would have to suffer some major consequences— let alone brought by the same people he pledged loyalty to.

In view of this and coming to a more present time where he must have an even bigger view of the great picture than he must've had in the beginning of the Cataclysm, I will say that Dain doesn't hate gods or at least, he doesn't hate them in general and is capable of directing that hatred to the actual puppeteers in a play where the Archons are the marionettes. Of course, that doesn't mean he won't be critical of them as we've seen with Venti, Zhongli and Ei so far, with Zhongli the most out of the three— but just as he criticizes them he also stays on his lane when he doesn't have anything bad to say about some of them such as Nahida and Focalors.

[dark-and-kawaii]

꧁༺ 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 ༻꧂

Astarion loses sight of you in a fight, he fears the worse has happened to you. He finds you and manages to bring you back to shadowheart for healing, only to discover he has more to protect than just you…

Angst - Hurt - Comfort - Pregnancy

(Click For Part Two)

You were fearless. He watched as you swung your dagger effortlessly, piercing into the necks of their enemies.

He wondered how you still managed to look elegant even when covered in the blood of fallen warriors.

His gaze never left you for too long, making sure you were safe, while he stealthed around the makeshift arena, racking up his own share of kills. How glorious this was! There was so much blood splattering all around them and with his love at his side it truly couldn’t get any better.

Astarion’s eyes couldn’t be everywhere though, and at some point, he lost sight of you. The last person to recognize him for what he’s worth, the one person he truly couldn’t afford to lose.

His head darted across the battlefield, desperately trying to find you. His panic plunged into sheer dread as fear overcame him. It was happening all over again, he’d seen this before… Alone.. No, please, he couldn’t let this be his fate.

He hadn’t felt fear this whole day; why should he? He was free of Cazador, had you- A subtle manic laugh drew from his throat, he’d never be free of fear, instead of fearing for himself or what his old master would do to him he now feared what would happen to you when in danger.

His red eyes turned a dark shade of black. The expression of a crazy man etched onto Astarion’s face. No, he wouldn’t let fear consume him, no more! He’d finally be the protector! Overcome with fury he went on a rampage. Cutting through the battlefield, slaughtering anyone and everyone in his way, determined to find you. He raced over to where he last saw you, faster than a blue dragon's lightning splits through the air in a storm.

Was he truly going to be the reason you passed on to the next life. Was his fate to destroy everything he held near and dear to his heart? He nearly killed you before with his own fangs and now, no! He wasn’t the cause of that, was he? He hadn’t ever tasted human blood before, but if he was stronger it wouldn’t have happened! If he would’ve ascended he would’ve been able to stop this, however he’s still just a spawn… How could you have fought for his love, a fool who couldn’t even protect you. A fool who was going to be the reason you die.

“FIND HER” He roared at the top of his lungs. “FIND TAV!”

The group of companions didn’t dare hesitate and instantly started searching the grounds, Gale being the second most worried.

Astarion was about to collapse to his knees before hearing Gale's voice, “I’ve found her!” in the distance. It filled him with more apprehension. All he could think is, ’what if she’s dead’.

Staggering up the hill where Gale’s voice had come from, Astarion can see a figure laying in the dirt next to the wizard, “No! You can’t die dammit! Get up!!” he rushed out his words, dismay evident in his tone as he knelt next to you.

“She is unconscious, but alive. There’s hope.” Gale replied.

Astarion let out a shaky breath of relief.

“We must get her back to camp,” Astarion demanded. “She needs Shadowheart, she’s the only one who can fix this!” His voice cracked despite his efforts to mask it.

“I agree.” Gale, mere inches from grabbing you to lift you in his arms until the pale elf stopped him, “Don’t touch her!- I- I will carry her.” Trying to compose himself he lifted you bridal style.

Astarion never left your side during Shadowhearts attempts to heal you. Time never bothered him, not after his 200 years of torment, he waited as “patiently” as he could.

“Honestly, how long does it take! You could at least give me some good news!”

Shadowheart continued to focus on you best she could, everyone including the gods were used to Astarions fits at this point. Gale on the other hand not so much, he could hear Astarion all the way in his own tent which caused the wizard to scrunch his nose. Eventually, leading him to where you were being treated, “Astarion, why don’t you join me in some wine. I’ve got quite the choices, besides… It might be best if we give her some space.”

Astarion scowled, “You expect me to leave her side to join you in some cheap wine? Really? I didn’t think you could get anymore annoying, Gale.”

“It’s done. She’ll be fine after some more rest.” Shadowheart stood from your side and wipes the blood off her hands. She’s been traveling with you and these two men for far too long, toning out their bickering was a skill of hers at this point.

Turning to face you, if his heart could beat he knows it would’ve dropped in his chest this very moment… “Leave us-“ kneeling down next to your bedroll, his eyes fixed on your bandaged wound, “please.”

“I was able to save her,” -Shadowheart bent down towards Astarion- “and the child, but it took most of my energy and resources… Don’t ask for me again for a while. Keep them both safe.”

He was quiet, his eyes wide after the news he was just told.

“Ahhh,” Shadowheart’s voice was surprised, “she didn’t tell you yet? Hmm or perhaps she hadn’t known yet? Curious.”

Astarion could only stare at his love, “A-are you for certain?”

Gale interjected, “I doubt her magic would deceive her, congratulations.”

Dark bruises and cuts decorated your once perfect skin. A deep purple shade surrounded your right puffy eye. His eyes traveled further down your body, stopping at your stomach.

He caressed your still flat stomach, causing you to wince and awake. Retreating his hand, he awaited for your eyes to open and look up at him.

A-Astarion?” You spoke with a small smile carved on your lips.

“Yes, my love. It’s me.” He struggled out, trying his best not to crumble.

You were both silent, hands entwined with one another thankful that you both can spend another day alive in the presence of another.

He was the first to break the silence, “thank you.”

You were so weak, but you wanted to know why he was thanking you out of the blue, “For what?” Your voice barely heard.

“For this,” his hand stretching out to rest on your abdomen, “for giving me purpose again.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, not knowing what he was talking about until it finally hit you. Your arm wavered as you lifted it to place your hand atop of his on your belly. A gentle smile forming on your lips as you stared into his vermilion eyes.

When your breath became labored indicating you had fallen asleep again, Astarion’s attention was back at your torso where the bandage was slowly being stained by your blood. This moment of relief turned to anger again as he lashed out, slapping a metal canister of water out the tent with force. The absolute intrigued him at first, more power meant being stronger to protect you, but now… He was beyond ever considering it again. The cultist not only almost killed you, but the child growing from within you!

“How dare they…” He seethed, “How dare they harm her and my child!”

Astarion was pacing around angrily, how could he have allowed this to happen? He started to blame himself.

“Astarion-“ You spoke up, attempting to calm him down.

“I’ll show them, my love-“ he cut you off, “that nobody is allowed to touch what is mine.” He growled.

His eyes darkened again: “I’ll make them pay.”

[heartfullofleeches]

Titus [Space Emperor Yan] and former Assassin Cat-Hybrid Darling. (Just a blurbo for now but I love these two now so I'd love to come back to this)

When the pair met, Darling thought Titus was no different from the rest of their targets. A self proclaimed god untouchable by those below him. Little did they know that their employers were basically setting them up on a suicide mention as the tyrant is a damn near immortal deity. As they perch atop his bed - knife planted in his chest, Darling counts their cards as a large hand locks around their wrist; pulling the blade out as one night remove a splinter. There was nowhere for them to run. The element of surprise had been swept from under their feet. They struggle and claw at the man, but there is no give to his iron grasp. As their brain draws to any conclusion a trapped animal may have, the knife in their hands is tossed across the room before they can take the final plunge.

The Emperor should have his little intruder punished. Waking a kind from his beauty rest is a serious offense. A crime in which the accused receives no trial and punished to the highest degree. Their eyelids removed so they never experience another second of slumber before their execution. There is also the more "amusing" route of electrocution or burning everytime they attempt to shut their eyes. Darling surely would have been subjected to this fate if they weren't so... So...

Precious~

Did this adorable little feline really think they could kill a god so easily? They insult him, but fortunately for them, they're cute enough for him to let it slide. The poor thing could use a bath though... And those scars.... When was the last time they had a proper meal? Oh, and those rags!

Titus scoops up the feisty kitty and thrusts them into the hands of his guards while he sorts through his closet for something to throw on until he can get them measured. Darling attempts to flee any chance they are alone, but with Titus promising to have the heads of everyone in the palace if they escaped - they never got far. Once they had some food in them and fully realized Titus wasn't bluffing when he called his home their new place of resident - Darling came up with a plan to lure Titus into false security and learn his witness to take him down when he least expected it. The only flaw in their plan was they underestimate their own commitment to the role as day by day their acceptance of the tyrant's obsession became less of an act.

They no longer had to work for their meals. Everything they could ever deserve was thrust placed right in their hands if they snuggled up to their new master or swished their tail just right in Union with those big adorable eyes. Their word stood above all in his counsel. They were waited on hand and foot by everyone under Titus' rulevIt was paradise. Their former comrades and the person they once were would be disgusted by what they've become, but if the former ever came to drag them back to their old ways they were swiftly cut down without so much as a passing glance from the royal that once stood beside them.

Titus is ever so glad he managed to bag that angry stray and turn them into the sweetest lil dear anyone has ever seen. He nearly loses his composure everytime he catches them lazying around in his robes - cloth barely clinging to their smaller figure. He knows they only do it to make sure he never says no to him, but there's hardly anything he would deny them beside their freedom. Whatever their heart longs for is a small prize to pay for their company. The Emperor is absolutely whipped for his little bedmate and would do anything to keep them collared at his side.

-

Assassin: You used to be something.... You could have lived a life similar to this without sacrificing your freedom if you had just taken his head. You are but a shell of the person I once knew. I despise you.

Cat Hybrid Reader: Hm... What you say might be true, but there's still something this life grants me that makes it all worth it

[Reader tears their shirt and knees on the floor closer to the cell as they shout]

Cat Hybrid Reader: Titus! Help!

Titus, storming down the dungeon stairwell: Oh, my precious angel. [Picks up Reader and checks them over for injuries] Don't worry, my love. I will have these awful, awful person executed at once. I'll have a necklace made from their ashes, but for now - will a massage and treats make do for leaving you all alone?

Cat Hybrid Reader, wiping fake tears from their eyes: yes....

[londonfog-chan]

Emperor Geta x Barbarian!Reader: Free Will Sacrifice

Jesus H Tapdancing Motherfucking Christ. Here we go.

Big, huge shoutout to @eddiemunsonmash for beta reading the clown shoes snippet I had written of Geta falling for a masochistic pseudo-viking, in a time where the vikings didn’t even exist yet.

Look, I love the idea of being a concubine as much as the next person, but I also want to be a gladiator secretly. Like a battered, tired warrior draped in silk holding a sword whose retirement consists of getting dominated on occasion by her insane emperor boyfie. Just two deeply, weirdly fucked up individuals being nasty is all I ask.

Gimme a break here, alright? I like to pretend that Geta thinks he can dominate anyone, meanwhile his partner can foist him over her shoulders and launch him into the sun.

Content Warnings: 18+ Only, Fem!Reader, Elements of power imbalance, dom/sub sadomasochism shenanigans that would not pass a vibe check under normal circumstances, slapping, choking, unprotected p in v, dirty deeds done dirt cheap by two fucked up individuals, you can fix him she can chase him with a knife to humble him, breeding kink

Summary: The northern barbarian allows the emperor to believe he is able to make her tame.

****

“ Soon we will be gone

A free will sacrifice

As free men we are born

And free we shall die “ - Amon Amarth

****

“No gods… no masters…”

A stinging backhand struck across your cheek and jerked your head to the side, a headache coming as your head was already bobbing listlessly up and down from the incessant pounding assault from below. The thrusts of his hips were brutal, erratic. You knew the taste of coppery sanguine from his rings splitting your lip wide open.

This was of course by design, purely by your own allowance. Should you want to, you could just as easily regain control of him, but you allowed Geta to take his pleasure as if overtaken by rut.

And you loved every minute of the pain he inflicted in a desperate bid for domination.

“You will not speak of gods or masters. You will only speak of me! You are mine, and mine alone. Now say it. To whom do you belong?”

Parched lips split into a wide grin. You knew then that among all the things he tolerated about you, he would never tolerate your flagrant disregard for authority, nor your atheistic views.

Cockhead stabbing at your cervix, he drilled into you as though he was a farmer armed with an aratrum, determined to sow the seeds of his bastards inside you. In a frenzied moment of madness, you hoped one would take. Even if it left you gravid and vulnerable.

To be used and manhandled as per your consent was the first stroke of indulgence you had experienced in this place. Such was an indulgence not to be overlooked. It was a blessing. A kindness.

Such kindness was foreign to you in this land. To Rome you were an aberration — the northern barbarian— your foreign blood was meant to be proffered as libation to the gods, your body merely altar bread to be thrown into the colosseum for the rats to consume.

Yet Geta saw in you something more.

By some twisted miracle of fate, you snatched freedom out of the hands of desperate half-starved men; they who were unused to the sting of hunger deep in their bellies stood no chance against your determination to survive. What was suffering to you? Nothing more than an itch of an insect bite. Meaningless. Worth less than, because, at the very least, the itch of the bite was acknowledged with a scratch. When nursed by clansmen in the piercing gales blowing across the glacier’s barren face, the only thing that mattered was the struggle.

Struggle to overcome the cold.

To survive to see each morning sun, shining against the blue ice and snow.

You did survive. Using a blade made strong from the bones of your ancestors, you cleaved that freedom from the enemies of the Romans to choose this life.

The co-emperor had asked what you wanted with this new found freedom. Despite the fact that you were a woman missing your lower lip, and plagued with blindness of one eye, Geta had offered you a choice. No law existed for free women, only free men were expected to live to tell the tale of their colosseum victory, living lower than the slaves in Rome’s underbelly.

Geta’s cruelty would have sealed your fate had you been taken under different circumstances. Aberrant conquests were plucked out specifically as offerings to Caracalla, lesser goods bestowed to his lesser brother to be ejaculated in and on. Had you not shown your ability as the strongest fighter the colosseum had known, Geta would have given you to his brother on a silver platter.

Yet he worried about you beating his poor, weak minded sibling into bloody pap with nothing but fists. Poor, simpering little Caracalla would never stand a chance before you castrated him in a blind rage.

Admittedly, Geta was intimidated himself. It took six men to hold back your berserker strength, and you did not calm down until a blade was held to your throat. He did not expect anything less than for you to ask for a seat as a general, to demand a place in his army barracks. He would have given it freely too. Anything to keep you out of the streets where the senate feared you would begin a massacre of the people in bitter vengeance for your capture.

In your northern tongue, you made one request, translated by a warrior — frightened army fodder— who just so happened to know your language.

You wanted Him.

You wanted Geta.

“Sire, the barbarian… She says she is the sword forged in the ashes of her kin. She is the war bringer, the northern wind that can cripple the Roman empire. She is the free will that defies the hand of the gods… Her only request is that she wishes to take whoever she so chooses to bed — for this night and all the nights after, and she has chosen you.”

Any lesser man would have laughed. Made light of the wish. Geta’s generals had laughed. Hard. Teasing and baiting the mutilated free woman who had the audacity to lust for the glimmering, golden perfection of the co-emperor.

But the emperor’s genitals had other motives, and instantly sprung to life at the mere mention of the request.

You saw it. Trying to maintain your composure, you turned your head to face his arousal with your eagle eye.

A desireable length. Uncut, favoring to the left.

Clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you called to the emperor, like a man catcalling a prostitute.

Geta’s erect penis tented under the deep indigo of his toga picta when he heard this click. A primal response to a primitive call.

A call to he who looked into your one good eye, and saw passionate fire burning in your iris.

You knew he was yours from that moment on.

“Tame me…” you had told him, words translated by the frightened warrior, “Make me docile… Take me on the ground in the way that the animals do.”

His amber eyes darkened.

He would make you tame, and take you on the ground on all fours, like the animals took their mates.

You would become concubina to the co-emperor. Just as you asked.

“You will not defy me with your silence, heathen!”

The emperor hissed into your ear through clenched teeth, his shaking body bringing you out of an orgasmic trance as he ceased jerking you back and forth, spearing you on his length.

“I am your master, your commander, your ruler. Say it.” He demanded.

“You are… my Geta-…” you began.

The emperor’s hand lashed at your cheek once again. Harder. With purpose. His fingers tangled into your knotted hair as he yanked your head back. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he looked into your one good eye. You would not be permitted to use such affectionate familiarity while in the throes of being taken like a beast.

“No… you will address me as your emperor.” he hissed.

He leaned forward. Warm, boozy breath against your skin. Hot, dripping wet tongue lathing in your ear canal.

“I am your emperor, not ‘your Geta’. I am your ruler, your master… your commander... I alone will decide whether or not you are to live, or to die. Now say it. Say it, heathen of the north.”

“Mu… my G…”

It almost slipped out on accident. Pure reflex and poor command of the Roman tongue made you seem incompetent in his eyes. You could see his ring adorned hand ball into a fist in warning, could already taste the golden bands even though they were nowhere near you yet.

You decided enough was enough. You needed more. You needed to take your pleasure, aching and throbbing with need around his cock shaft.

“My Emperor…” you whispered, the word foreign on your tongue as you mispronounced it.

Geta’s body stilled.

My Emperor…

It had come out of your mouth all wrong, mispronounced and uncertain. But to him, it was a start. Something to be worked with. His fingers loosened in your hair, hand moving to cup your neck, a gentle touch as he throbbed inside you.

“Again…” he murmured, voice soft and commanding.

“My Emperor…”

In a single fluid movement you contracted around him, his eyes nearly fluttering shut as his brow wrinkled. Geta was holding back, the moan catching in his throat as he remained stoic.

“Say it again…” he said, voice strained, “Sweet siren, sing your song once more…!”

“My Emperor… Princeps… Augustus… Imperator…”

When he heard these titles, you felt his heart thrash against your back. In a frenzied stutter his hips began moving involuntarily, utterly captivated in his rhythmic dance of taking pleasure. You responded in kind. Mouth open, tongue lolling out to catch the warm, wine tinged saliva he spit into your mouth.

“Again…!” He croaked.

This time, he held back no shameful sound of lovemaking. His voice was cracked, thrusts becoming erratic as he pumped in and out, pace quickening with anticipation. Low, tantalizing bleats of erotic mania escaped from his ruddy lips. One ringed hand wrapped around your thick neck, squeezing the breath from you with one hand as the other was coated in slick spit, fully intent on either slapping your firm buttocks or your face. Whatever was more convenient depending on your answer.

He would not abate his abuse until you said it again. Would not allow you the sweet release of climax until you screamed his name to the heavens, to the gods you didn’t believe in, to all of Rome should he have commanded it.

“Princeps…!” You keened.

And you were rewarded. Two moistened fingers, vigorously creating friction against your clitoral hood.

His title left your mouth in a wail as you sprayed his sheets with the aftermaths of ecstasy.

“Imperator… Imperator…!”

[theoi-crow]

The humans in Greek Mythology are the mega rich and powerful:

In my college classes people are often shocked when I tell them my favorite part of Greek mythology is the gods themselves and I'm not a big fan of the humans.

99% of my classmates prefer the humans in mythos, especially the ones that stick it to the gods like Sisyphus and feel bad for humans like Kassandra and Helen who have been wronged by the gods because "they're just like us." My classmates and teachers hate the gods and don't understand why anyone in modern times would want to worship such violent and selfish beings whenever I point out there are still people who worship them. They hold onto the idea that people in mythology embody the human experience of being oppressed by terrible gods and fate and we should feel bad for them because "they're human just like us" but they forget that the people in Greek Mythology are NOT just like us. They are more relatable to medieval royalty, colonizers and ultra rich politicians who make laws and decisions on wars and the fates of others, especially the poor and the very vulnerable.

Every hero or important human in Greek Mythology is either some form of royalty or mega rich politician/priest-priestess (of course this is with the exception of people who are explicitly stated to be poor like the old married couple in the myth where Zeus and Hermes pretend to be panhandlers). All of them have an ancient Greek lifestyle more relatable to Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump, and especially to British royalty during the British empire, than the average person.

All of them.

Odysseus, Patroclus, Theseus, Helen of Troy, Kassandra, Diomedes, Agamemnon, Perseus, Hercules, Aeneas, Paris, Any human who has a divine parent or is related to one, etc. Although sometimes the story omits it, it is heavily implied that these are people who own hundreds or even thousands of slaves, very poor farmers and the tiny barely there working class as royal subjects.

They are the ones who make laws and whose decisions massively affect the fates of so many people. So no, they can't just be forgiven for some little whim, because that little whim affects the literal lives of everyone under their rule. By being spoiled they've just risked the lives of thousands of people and possibly even gotten them killed like when Odysseus' audacity got every single slave and soldier in his ships killed or when Patroclus as a kid got upset and killed another kid for beating him at a game. (A normal person wouldn't kill another person just for winning a game but royalty and those who think they're above the law do it all the time, plus the class status of the child wasn't mentioned but the way he didn't think he'd get in trouble implies the kid was of lower class, possibly the child of a slave or a foreign merchant.)

The gods get a bad reputation for punishing the humans in mythology but, if not them, who else is going to keep them accountable when they are the law?

And whose to say the humans beneath them weren't praying to the gods in order to keep their masters in check?

Apollo is the god in charge of freeing slaves, Zeus is the god of refugees, immigrants and homeless people, Ares is the protector of women, Artemis protects children, Aphrodite is the goddess of the LGBT community, Hephaestus takes care of the disabled, etc. It wouldn't be surprising if the gods are punishing the ultra rich and powerful in these myths because the humans under their rulership prayed and sent them as they did historically.

Every time someone asks me if I feel bad for a human character in a myth, I think about the many lives affected by the decision that one human character made and if I'm being completely honest, I too would pray to the gods and ask them to please punish them so they can make more careful decisions in the future because:

They are not just like us.

We are the farmers, a lot of our ancestors were slaves, we are the vulnerable being eaten by capitalism and destroyed by the violence colonialism created. We are the poor subjects that can only pray and hope the gods will come and correct whatever selfish behavior the royal house and mega rich politicians are doing above us.

And that's why I pray to the gods, because in modern times I'm dealing with modern Agamemnons who would kill whatever family members they have to in order to reach their end goal, I'm dealing with everyday modern Achilles who would rather see their own side die because they couldn't keep their favorite toy and would gladly watch their subjects die if it means they eventually get their way. The ones that let capitalism eat their country and it's citizens alive so long as it makes them more money. These are our modern "demigods," politicians who swear they are so close to God that they know what he wants and so they pass laws that benefit only them and claim these laws are ordained by God due to their close connection just like how Achilles can speak to the gods because of his demigod status via his mother.

Look at the news, these are humans that would be mythical characters getting punished by Greek gods which is why anything Greco-Roman is jealousy guarded by the rich and powerful and is inaccessible to modern worshippers because Ivy League schools like Harvard and Cambridge make sure to keep it that way. That's what we're dealing with. These are the humans these mythical beings would be because:

In our modern times the humans in mythos would be the politicians and mega rich that are currently ruining our society and trying to turn it into a world where only the rich can manipulate wars and laws, just like they do in mythology.

Fuck them.

I literally have so much more to add about my disdain for them and I didn't even touch on the obvious ancient Greek propaganda.