I'm not saying I'm the best Florence and the machine fan or the most dedicated, but I may be the craziest. Morning of the concert, I was in urgent care with excruciating 10/10 pain in my back, throwing up everywhere, etc. They didn't have the equipment to find out what was wrong but UA came back clean. I told them I wasn't going to miss the concert lol. They gave me two zofran and a toradol shot in my back. Went back to the motel, took a nap, then went and danced and screamed during the concert. Next day, my mom and I drove the 250 miles home from TX to OK. At almost midnight, I woke up with even worse pain. My mom drove me to the ER and they did a UA and CT scan. Turns out I've been trying to pass a 6mm (~0.25in) kidney stone for the past few days!! So now I'm on bed rest (again), thinking that this is the most Florence-coded thing I've ever done.
Thank you everyone for your kind words and prayers! I know that no matter what happens, God is taking care of me and my family ❤️ hopefully I'll be back from my hiatus sometime in May! 🙏🏽
I'm on a semi-hiatus right now due to several major health and medical issues in my household. Prayers for health and healing would be greatly appreciated. xx
Not to be completely extra on top of everything else I'm doing but I couldn't find the lace trim I need for my Victorian collar I'm making for the Florence concert, so I'm crocheting my own lace trim. I may get to the end of this and realize it doesn't work for the collar, but at least I'll have made something new 🧶
Warnings: Verging on dubcon/noncon. Mild choking and being restrained. Death threats. Slight AU since I wrote this before I watched the third film, but this is post-The Chronicles of Riddick (so spoilers for films 1 & 2!!). In this, Riddick has a harem. Mentions of sex trafficking. Set on Helion Prime and not on the Basilica. (Yes, I know, he's Lord Marshal of the Necromongers and they move from planet to planet, but it's an AU.) No betas.
Summary: In Riddick's harem, you're his favorite. But you hate him.
Word Count: 3509
Sweat rolled down the sides of your face, pooling in the divot of your collarbone. You could feel the sun prickling your skin, turning it darker against the pale robes you wore. The other women had sworn that the best way to stay cool in the unbearable heat was to add layers. The more layers you wore, the cooler you were. It seemed counterintuitive, but the women swore by it.
It's an ancient knowledge, one of the women once told you. Your sweat is trapped between the layers of fabric. When the breeze comes through, it goes through the sweat and it cools you off. If you wrap enough fabric around you, you might even get cold.
But no matter how hard you tried, it didn't work. Every layer was just another swath of heat and humidity and discomfort. Your home planet was cold every day of the year. You'd grown up wearing layers, furs, leathers. But now, the thought of anything touching your skin was enough to make you want to scream. Still, you wore as many layers as you could stand.
The double doors of the bedroom swung open and the other women immediately found their place on the bed, turning their eyes to the only man in the room.
Riddick.
You hated him.
You wished him dead.
Riddick was not the one who'd kidnapped you from your home planet, and he was not the one who sold you into the sex trade. But somehow you ended up in his harem, the newest addition to his flock of subservient women. And for that, you could kill him.
Riddick knew this, too. You suspected it was why he had picked you out among all the other women on Helion Prime. He liked that you were angry. He liked that every time he came into the room, you had your guard up.
In the three months you had been in his harem, Riddick hadn't touched you once. You never let him get close enough to try. Of course, he had plenty of other women in his bed to choose from. But no matter who he was with, it always felt like his eyes were on you.
The other women sprawled on the bed held out their long arms, beckoning Riddick toward them. They didn't like him anymore than you did, but they'd been around a lot longer and they knew the rules. It was their job to please him whenever he wished to be pleased. He seemed to visit more frequently since you'd arrived, but you guessed it was because he was trying to break you.
“Come here.” Riddick's voice was deep and commanding. A true leader.
The women on the bed began to rise and he looked at them from behind his black goggles.
“Not you. Stay there.”
Confused, the other women sank back onto the bed. Riddick turned to look at you.
“You. Come here.”
Every eye in the room was on you. Another bead of sweat rolled down your temple. In the privacy of the bedroom, the other women often shed their multiple layers. It didn't do them much good to be fully clothed when Riddick arrived, not unless they wanted to see their clothes torn apart by a very impatient man. But you, determined to curse Riddick until the day one of you died, refused to remove a single layer, no matter how much discomfort it caused you.
Riddick snapped his fingers at you, then he pointed at the ground by his feet.
“Here. Now.”
“I'm not a dog.”
“No,” he agreed, “you're not. A dog would follow directions. Don't make me ask again.”
You stood your ground, though your heart was racing like a rabbit's. The women stared at you, barely able to mask their fear. Riddick had never hurt any of the women, but he’d never had reason to. They'd always done what he'd asked. (No, he never asked. He always demanded.)
“If I have to come over there to get you, you're going to regret it,” he said coolly.
Your resolve was quickly withering. A look toward the other women told you everything you needed to know. Riddick was not bluffing. Before he'd become the Lord Marshal of the Necromongers, he'd been a fugitive. A felon. A murderer. There was blood on his hands he'd never be able to wash off, but he didn't seem like the kind to mind it. In fact, he might just enjoy spilling new blood – your blood – just to have something to do.
Despite your three months of resisting Richard B. Riddick and his commands, you gave in. Crossing the bedroom, you kept your eyes on the ground in shame.
“Good girl,” he said. “That wasn't so hard, was it?”
You bit your tongue as Riddick led you out of the bedroom. Before the doors even closed, you heard the worried whispers of the other women. Three months you had denied Riddick the only thing he wanted from you. Three months he had allowed you to stay in his home and eat his food and deny him your body. Had it been enough? Had he finally gotten tired of the games and the waiting?
The building Riddick had claimed as his palace on Helion Prime was filled with Necromongers, all of them loud and obnoxious. Though most of them were too preoccupied with their cult, there were a fair few of them who turned lecherous eyes to the bedroom doors where Riddick's harem was kept most of the time. When the women were let out – to go to the markets, to accompany Riddick on his treks, or to simply get out of Riddick's way while he was in a foul mood – the Necromongers stared at them so intently, one could actually feel their eyes traveling over skin.
You were thankful to Riddick for one thing, and that was keeping the other men away from you. No one was allowed near the harem, not even when you were allowed out of the bedroom. While it was wholly selfish on Riddick's part, you could admit it was one half-way decent thing he did for you.
Riddick didn't say a single word as he led you through the palace to the other end. You reached another set of magnificent double doors, etched in gold and bronze, and he pushed them open. The room inside was another bedroom, though decorated so sparsely, you guessed it had never been used. The curtains were also pulled shut over the large windows leading to the balconies overlooking the courtyard. A pale light, thin and yellow, barely managed to cut through the fabric and spill itself on the floor.
You crossed the threshold and Riddick circled back around to close the doors behind you. The room was, surprisingly, much cooler than the harem's bedroom or the rest of the palace. It took time for your eyes to adjust, but you finally made out the large bed with a single blanket, a chair with discarded jackets and robes, and a display of knives lined up on the floor.
A chill ran down your spine as Riddick passed behind you.
“Don't worry,” he said, as if he had read your mind. “I didn't bring you here to kill you. Even though that's probably what I should do. What kind of Lord Marshal am I if I let one of my concubines deny me sex?”
“I think the Necromongers are too worried about spreading their death cult to think about sex.” Another chill crept up your spine, spreading behind your ears and down your arms. “Why did you bring me here?”
Riddick stood in front of the chair and tossed aside various pieces of clothing. He found an article he seemed happy with and turned back to you. “Put these on.”
“What is it?”
“It doesn't matter what it is. I told you to put them on. You know how I feel about asking twice.”
With trembling hands, you reached out and snatched the garment from him. He stood there, staring at you. Slowly, a grin spread across his face. He reached up and pulled his goggles off, tossing them aside to the bed.
You took an involuntary step backward, gasping as you did so. Riddick's eyes glowed in the darkness, a shimmering color you'd only seen on animals – on predators. You'd never seen Riddick's eyes before. He'd taken his goggles off with the harem, of course, but you'd never looked at him when he did. The only time you looked at him was when he arrived and when he left, keeping him in view. When he was preoccupied with one, or several, of the other women in the harem, you looked away.
“I'm not gonna tell you to not be scared,” he said, still grinning. His incisors were sharp, like a dog's. “You can be scared if you want. Oh … You already are. I can smell it on you.”
You gripped the fabric tight in your hands and backed up until you hit the double doors. Riddick's eyes flashed in the dark as he slunk sideways and then forward, getting closer to you. You reached behind, grasping the doorknob. It didn't turn in your hand. Riddick had locked it, locked you in the room.
He drew closer to you, staring you down. He seemed to grow taller with every passing second, filling the room with his animalistic presence.
“I told you I didn't want to ask again, but I will. Put. Those. On.”
Wilting under the intensity of his gaze, you unfolded the article of clothing and found they were a pair of shorts. The fabric was so thin and small, you wouldn't have guessed it was actually clothes.
Your hands were shaking too much for you to put the shorts on, and your self-preservation was keeping you from letting your guard down around Riddick enough to change clothes. Every muscle of your body was screaming – but you didn't know what the words were. Was your body telling you to run? To fight? Or was it telling you something else, the very thing you'd been trying to avoid for the past three months?
Submit. Do what he says. Obey him. He's your master now.
Riddick grabbed a handful of gauzy fabric from your shoulder and yanked it, unwinding it to the floor. You pressed harder against the locked door but could go no further. He pulled another layer of robes off of you, stepping closer to corner you against the door. His eyes weren't just glowing. They looked like they were on fire as he stared down at you, his rough hands pushing layer after layer of fabric to the floor.
“I hear you all the time, complaining about the heat. And here I am, trying to help, and you don't want it.” He reached for the final robe, the last layer before you were only in a bra and panties.
Some instinct, an animal's survival, came over you and you thrust your arms up to block him. His thick fingers were still tangled up in the robe, holding tight. You pounded on his arms, trying to get him to let you go. Instead, he smirked.
“If it's too hot on Helion Prime for you, then we should fix that.” He tore the final robe off your body and let it fall in a pile among the other robes on the floor. Your hands and arms shot up to cover yourself but Riddick wasn't having it. He grabbed your wrists, wrenched your arms above your head, and pinned them in place. “I've let you play virgin princess for three months but your time’s up now. I don't have a single reason not to toss you out to those Necromongers and let them do what they want to you.”
You twisted against his strong grip but he just held you tighter. His body pressed against yours, his face moving closer to your flushed cheeks. Your body was on fire, every nerve crackling like tinder. Not even when you'd been on the blocks back in the slave market had you felt so much like you'd been cornered by an animal.
“I'm going to let you go and then you're going to put those shorts on. You should consider yourself lucky. I could make you walk around this entire palace naked, if I wanted to.”
“I'd rather die than let you parade me around like chattel.”
“Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind that my life would be easier if you were dead. I'm going to let go of your wrists now. Are you going to follow directions? Or are we going to have a problem?”
With every limb trembling, you turned your coldest glare to Riddick, looking him straight in his milky, glowing eyes.
“No,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “No problems.”
“Good.” He loosened his grip but didn't release you entirely. He stared at you, quirking an eyebrow. “I'm serious. I don't have any issue killing you and finding someone else.”
“You wouldn't do that,” you said, digging your fingers into the pair of shorts you still clung onto.
“Really? Why not?”
“I've studied you as much as you've studied me these past three months. You wouldn't kill me. That's not fun enough for you.”
His lips tugged to the side in a crooked smile. “And what do I think is fun?”
“Fighting. Breaking people. The power struggle. I've seen how you treat the women in the harem, Riddick. You practically ignore the ones who submitted right away. There's no challenge there. It's boring to you, to have people do exactly what you want when you want it. And the other women, the ones who resisted you a little longer, you pay a little more attention to them, but barely. You don't want what you have. You don't want it easy. You like the fight too much.”
His crooked smile spread into another wide, amused grin. “Really?”
Your heart skipped a beat. His breath was hot on your bare skin, even hotter than the Helion Prime sunshine. And yet, goosebumps spread across every inch of exposed skin. Your knees quavered like you were standing in the middle of a winter storm.
“Yes. That's why you're always watching me when you're with the harem. That's why …” You swallowed; Riddick pressed harder against you. “That's why I’m here. You're right – there's no good reason for you to not give me to the Necromongers, or kill me, or abandon me in the city. But you haven’t. Because you haven't had me yet. It drives you crazy, doesn't it? Seeing me every day, thinking about me – looking at me when you’re having sex with other women, and not even being able to touch me?”
Very carefully, you leaned up and brushed your lips over Riddick's. It was almost unnoticeable, but you heard the softest groan underneath a sharp exhale.
“It must piss you off so much,” you whispered against his mouth, “that your favorite person on this entire damn planet hates you enough to want you dead.”
Riddick yanked your wrists down and dragged you to the bed. He threw you onto the mattress and climbed on top, pinning you down with his body weight. You struck out with your fists but he was unfazed.
Resting his weight on you, he smiled as you writhed beneath him.
“I think you're right,” he said. “Helion Prime is too hot.” He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside.
Even in the dim light of the dark bedroom, you could see the contours of his muscled chest and stomach. A knot formed in your core and for a brief moment, you stopped flailing. Riddick took the opportunity to wrap a large hand around your throat, though he didn't squeeze.
“Would you look at that?” he said, rubbing his thumb against the underside of your jaw. “My hand fits perfectly around your throat, like it was made for it.”
You clenched your hands into fists and kept them up by your head. You weren't about to try to hit the man when he had his hand around your throat, but you weren't going to keep them down by your side and be completely vulnerable.
“Anything you put in me, you're gonna lose,” you seethed.
“I'm not going anywhere near your mouth.”
“Doesn't matter. I'll still bite it off. I'll cut it off. I'll tear it off with my bare hands.”
Riddick squeezed your throat gently. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make it difficult to breathe. Then he relaxed his grip.
“Play nice or I'll strangle you here and toss you off the balcony. The street animals would appreciate the meal.”
You glowered at him as he loomed over you, radiating heat and musk. His eyes seemed to glow brighter with you pinned under him. He squeezed your throat again, then released. Squeeze, release, squeeze, release. He did it at such a steady, repeated rhythm, you realized he was imitating a heartbeat. Not yours, though. No, your heart was beating so hard it was bruising your ribcage. It must have been his. Calm, even, smooth. Squeeze, release, squeeze, release.
Riddick's fingers slid up your cheeks and he pinched your face hard. “I said play nice, I didn't say stop fighting. Do you think I'll leave you alone if you decide to act good? It doesn't work that way. I'm going to break you, fair and square.”
All you could manage was a grunt. He let your face go and tilted his head to the side, clearly amused at his power over you.
“I didn't catch that. Say it again.”
“Three months is nothing. I'll make you regret even seeing me in the slave market.”
“I look forward to it. But I don't think I'll be the one regretting it.” He climbed off of you, grabbed your arm, and yanked you off the bed. You stumbled onto wobbly legs, suddenly missing the weight and heat of Riddick's body on you. You fell against his bare chest and felt a deep chuckle rumble through his body into yours. “I'd put those shorts on before you walk back to your bedroom.”
Shaking yourself free of him, you pulled the tight pair of shorts on over your panties. Riddick flopped onto the bed and reclined, his arms folded behind his head.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking a nap. You can leave now.”
“But …” You looked at the door, heard the distant conversation of the Necromongers. “I thought we were going back to the other bedroom.”
“You are. I'm staying right here.”
“What?”
“I'm not escorting you. You can walk yourself back there.”
You opened your mouth to protest but realized it would only give Riddick satisfaction if you showed fear. You stormed over to the door and began scooping up the pile of robes.
“Leave those.”
“Excuse me?” You whipped around and stared at Riddick. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling with even breaths.
“Leave them, they're mine now.”
“You don't really expect me to walk by those Necromongers, by myself, in just this, do you?”
“Actually, I do. And that's what you're going to wear from now on, since Helion Prime is too hot for you.”
Rage boiled over inside of you. If he weren't so fast, if he weren't so strong, you would pick up one of the knives on the ground and stab him through the heart. You'd gouge out his eyes, and cut off his fingers, and–
“Am I supposed to be regretting even seeing you, yet?” Riddick asked from his place on the bed.
You threw the robes onto the ground and unlocked the bedroom doors. As you pulled open the double doors, a wall of hot air hit you square in the face. You'd forgotten how hot the rest of the palace was compared to Riddick's room. Sweat immediately began running in hot droplets down your body.
It was a long walk from Riddick's room to the harem. A long, unaccompanied walk through the palace filled with Necromongers. And Riddick had stripped you of every layer that had made you feel safe.
I won't let him get to me. I won't do it. If he wants me to submit to him, he's going to have to kill me first.
“By the way,” Riddick called out.
You didn't dare look back at him. You could already hear his smug smile when he spoke.
“I never said you were my favorite.”
“And, yet, you still can't stop staring at me.”
Riddick chuckled again. The deep, throaty sound provided a boost of confidence you weren't expecting. You braved one final look over your shoulder at the man and saw his eyes were indeed open. Standing up straight, you marched out of the bedroom and began the long trek back to the harem. You didn't bother closing Riddick's bedroom door behind you. You wanted to make sure he had a clear view and could watch you the entire way back.
Flash Fiction Friday 2026 #11 (The Last Witch Hunter)
Word: Trust
Pairings: Kaulder x witch!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of canon-compliant character death. No betas.
Summary: Your friend, Chloe, brings the witch hunter Kaulder to your apothecary. He’s different from how you imagined.
Word Count: 1375
You gaped at Chloe as she ushered the man into your building, shutting the door behind them. She turned your OPEN sign around to CLOSED and locked the door.
“Are you insane?” you hissed, wanting to grab your friend by the throat and strangle her, but you were too nervous to move from behind the counter. You didn't dare take your eyes off of the man. He seemed to fill the entire room with his intimidating presence, his dark eyes locked onto you.
“I know, I'm sorry,” Chloe said, crossing the brick floor to the old counter you were barricading yourself behind. “I should've warned you, but we didn't have time. You wouldn't believe what we've been through to get here.”
“We?” You only glanced at Chloe and then your eyes immediately snapped back to the man. He was wearing close-fitting black clothes and boots. He would've blended it on the street if you didn't feel the energy coming off of him. The Axe and Cross ring on his finger was the final clue that told you exactly who he was.
“Yes, we,” Chloe said. “I know it's kind of inconvenient, but we need to lay low for a few days. Can we stay here?”
You continued to stare at the Witch Hunter, and he stared back at you. Then your vision was blocked by Chloe's hand as she snapped her fingers impatiently.
“Hello? Is anyone home?”
Your eyes snapped to Chloe and you dug your fingers into the counter, trying to ground yourself in the moment. This wasn't really happening, was it?
“You brought the Witch Hunter to my apothecary, Chloe. What the hell are you thinking?”
“My name's Kaulder.”
You jumped at the sudden booming voice. It was so deep, you were certain the glass panes in your cabinets were rattling. You once again looked at the man. He stepped forward, his footsteps heavy on the brick. He stretched out one large hand toward you.
“I'm a friend of Chloe's,” he continued. “And I take it you are too.”
“How is a witch friends with someone like you?”
Kaulder's mouth twitched in a smile and his dark eyes shifted to Chloe. “It's kind of a long story, but she can tell you that I'm not what the stories say I am. I promise, I'm not here to hurt you.”
His hand lingered in the air for another moment before you finally reached out and shook it. His skin was warm, almost hot, and his palm was rough. He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling. Your heart skipped a beat and your cheeks warmed.
Just nerves, you told yourself, pulling your hand quickly out of his. You immediately missed the warmth of it, the strength of his grip.
“Good,” he said. “A truce. Now, can we get on with this? We need a place to stay.”
“Why? What are you doing here?”
“We're looking for a coven,” Chloe said, helping herself behind the counter. She began pulling open drawers and cabinets. “They've been operating around here for a while, seems like. Kaulder says they're dangerous, and they're planning something big.”
Kaulder's eyes were still on you as you turned to Chloe, shutting the drawers and cabinets after her.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You're my closest friend in this place,” she said with a soft smile. “If anyone knows anything about a coven working in this area, it'd be you. Besides, I don't want anything to happen to you. I've already lost Miranda.”
“I heard about that.”
“How?” Kaulder asked.
You looked at him, shrugging. “Witches talk. When one of us gets killed, that news spreads like wildfire. Everyone always assumes it's you, so we're always on the lookout, taking care of each other. But even if we weren't that connected, I would've known anyway.”
You walked to a curio cabinet in the corner and pointed to one of the shelves. It was filled with crystals in various shapes, sizes, and colors. Most of them were vibrant, seeming to glow from the inside. One of them, near the front center, was cracked in half and dull.
“I keep a crystal for all my friends and some of my more faithful customers. Whenever something happens to a crystal, I know something's happened to them. When Miranda died, this crystal broke in half and the light went out. That's what crystals do – when they've reached the end of their purpose, they break.”
You turned back to Kaulder. “You honestly didn't kill her?”
“No, I didn't. It was another coven. They killed her to keep her from helping me.”
“And, you, Chloe, you really believe in helping him? A Witch Hunter?”
Chloe nodded. “I do.”
“Okay … Then I'll help you. Let me know what you need and I'll get it for you.”
“A place to stay,” said Kaulder. Now that you'd gotten over your initial shock and fear, you were surprised at how gently he spoke. “A safe place. One where we wouldn't be noticed by anyone. If any members of the coven come here, we should go someplace else.”
“Dedicated members of underground covens don't usually shop with anyone outside of the coven, since they don't want to risk being found out. That being said, I can't guarantee any of my customers aren't in the coven. But I use protection spells on the building. I can easily place a cloaking spell over the back room so no one knows you're here.”
“What about your apartment upstairs?” Chloe asked, eyes bright.
“You come here with a Witch Hunter and want me to give you access to my apartment?” you finally shot a glare at your friend. “Whatever. Yeah, I can do a cloaking spell over my apartment, too. I have more protection spells over my apartment than my apothecary, anyway. I'll have to erase some of them, though …”
“Let me guess,” Kaulder said with amusement. “You've got a few sigils to keep me away?”
“It's the most common sigil used in modern witchcraft,” you said with your own smile. It was amazing how quickly you were beginning to relax around this man. It was alarming. “It shouldn't take long to get rid of them, though. Chloe, if you want to keep an eye out down here, I'll go up and start scrubbing sigils.”
You turned to head through the back room leading to the stairs up to your apartment. Kaulder grabbed your wrist, stopping you.
“You're actually going up there to do that, right? You're not calling your friends in the coven, are you?”
“Chloe and Miranda were the closest things I had to a coven, Kaulder. The kinds of witches you're hunting killed Miranda, and I assume they aren’t too thrilled Chloe is helping you, so, no, I'm not going to call them.”
“It's very important that you don't lie to me. If we're going to survive this together, we need to trust each other. Got it?”
“I trust Chloe, and she trusts you. I guess that's good enough for now.”
“I guess it is.” Kaulder released you.
You rubbed your wrist, though it didn't hurt. Still, it was a strange feeling. You never thought you'd even see the Witch Hunter in person, let alone be in a room with him, talking to him, negotiating with him, shaking his hand. You hated to admit it, but you were beginning to believe him. Maybe he wasn't what the stories said.
“I'll be as quick as I can,” you said, opening the door to the back room. “Chloe, you can do another protection spell on this building. Two witches are better than one.” You glanced at Kaulder to see if he'd make a face or say something, but he didn't.
Chloe resumed her place behind the counter, rifling through drawers for bottles and canisters.
“And when you're done, why don't you order dinner from Tsuki's?” You looked at Kaulder over your shoulder as you stepped into the back room. “You'll like that restaurant. No magic at all. But when I get back down here, you're going to explain everything to me.”