#and they were STILL the center of attention their power is unmatched

[chandralia]

can’t wait to throw up next episode

[pursuitseternal]

“𝑀𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝑅𝑜𝑜𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝐻𝒾𝓂:”

𝒜!𝒜𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝒾𝒸

Ascended Astarion x f!Reader | E | 2K

🎨🎁 for Stacey Monroe on twt and BlueSky

Summary: You burn, in heat and needing to mate… and your Master is more than willing to help his *dearest pet*

CW: Cw: Breeding for impregnating, bdsm, master/pet, slight degradation, PiV, reader in heat, faced fuck, mating press, ascendant stamina 😈

Ao3 Link | Astarion fic Masterlist

The very air tastes of him, you stick your tongue out. He’s been in this room, the sweet sweat of his body still lingers as he passed this way recently. Your mind is a mess, a primal mush of need and pheromones.

Your bare feet step blindly, compelled by your core. Your cunt clenching in time with your progress as you wander up the stairs. “He’s here,” you say to yourself, voice hissing as you pant in heat.

For you are in heat.

Your blood sings for your maker. Your folds seep with need. Your skin is damp with sweat and flushed with desire. Only his cock will make you whole, only his cum will douse the inferno.

You make it to the bedroom, hearing his movements within. His heart is skipping, contented as he moves, your vampiric hearing hones in on that low pitter patter of your creator, a rhythm as familiar as the march of eternity.

Noises sound almost underwater with the way your pulse beats, even undead your heart is in a frenzy, and it’ll stay that way…

…until you flood your cunt with seed, letting it take root and make your belly swell.

You whimper his name, your mouth salivating his scent thickens. “Astarion…” Throat thick with spit-slick, his name sounds like a high-pitched growl from your lips as you wet them. Then you enter his bedroom, his lithe form eagerly prowling from the far side of his bed, those massive wooden posters now wound in red silk ropes that extend to the center.

The candlelight flickers over his pale skin, caressing the lines and angles of his bare chest and leather-clad legs. Fuck, it makes you drool, a thin line of your saliva dripping down from the corner of your mouth. He moves with stealth, assured he knows exactly what to do, a plan in place as he prepares his bed for you.

Those pointed ears twitch as you enter, a sinuous smile creeping over his lips as he turns in your direction.

He lifts his head, scarlet gaze fixing on you as his nostrils flare. “Mmm, pet, you smell… delicious.” His hand closes around your wrist, a firm pressure, a guiding pressure. It steadies you as he pulls you to his bed and lays you down. His touch is warm, even on your burning skin, fingers leaving trails of fire as he positions you spread eagle, your arms resting comfortably above your head. The silken rope soothes you as he binds your arms, the tug of your limbs just painful enough to ground you…

To make you present to his attentions and pull you from your cloud of lust.

A single nail trails down the inner flesh of your arm, following the rises and dips of your body and leaving a trail of molten heat in its wake.

“Dearest pet,” your master’s voice caresses your very mind as he peers down at you, scarlet eyes aglow from his power, “what a beautiful feast spread so willingly for me.” More of his fingers now wander down to your breast, bare as the day you were born, squeezing it to dig those nails delightfully into your skin. Releasing you, he brings a finger to flick just nipple.

And your cunt starts to leak into the sheets. A keening cry slips from your slack mouth. “More,” you whine repeatedly.

And he is more than willing to satisfy.

“My favorite sound, the desperate cries of a whore, just unraveling for her master,” he purrs, chuckling as he climbs over your body. That frame of unmatched, ascendant strength cages you in, hands by your head, leg splaying your cunt wide open to feel his bulge as he lowers it. That clothed cock slots perfectly where you ache in delicious pain.

Instantly you grind, wrapping your legs around him. Friction, you need it, your body screams at you. Hormones racing in your blood to have him release his cock and pound you.

But you feel his anger before anything else. “Bad girl,” he growls, his sudden movements making you gasp as he pushes up, hands pinning your thighs back to the bed. “You are mine to fuck, mine to pleasure, mine to breed.”

He looks down on you, his twisted delight at your insolence is etched on the angles of his face. Lips part in a wide-fanged grin, and his fingers work the fasteners of leathers. “My sweet pet, it’s that time, hm? Those days where your urge to fuck outweighs your hunger for blood.” He drags his hands down your chest, scoring his nails just lightly to heighten your senses.

“Gods, I love this time of the year,” he groans, eyeing you like they prey you are, “helpless and mindless and ready for a good fuck, is that it, pet?”

You whine as he works himself towards your sly smile on his knees, until you’re looking straight up his torso.

The sight makes you buck your unburdened hips. “You’re going the wrong way, master…” you manage to choke out. Then, you watch as his hands deftly free his cock, the buttons almost popping off as they open. He’s flushed, rock hard and leaking.

That length bobs as he looks down at you, a sadistic smile on his plush lips, his thumb sliding into your mouth to pull it open. “First, you’ll suck me, then, if you’re eager, I’ll breed you… fuck you so full of cum your belly swells.”

His own hand runs down his torso, nails dragging over the rises of his muscles until he grips the base of his cock.

“Is that what you want, pet? Want me to fuck a child into you again… make you swell with my offspring? Or are you too mindless and drooling to reply?” He gives that wicked, rumbling laugh as he presses his precum-slick slit to rub your lips. To mark your mouth as his to fuck.

Bitter sticky fluid touches your tongue and instantly your body hums to life. “Yes, Master,” the words barely make sense to the ear around his cock as you suck him in. The weight of him traps your tongue as you try to speak, the all-too familiar veins of his shaft caressing it as he thrusts home.

Fingers and nails grab your head, hips snapping to fuck your mouth. He begins with only a few slower slides into your mouth before he snarls, losing control as he plunders that warm cavern. The muscles of his pelvic slam into your forehead and nose, his balls slap against your chin and neck as he ruts down your throat.

“Such a pleasing cocksleeve, such a willing whore,” he snarls in deep chested tones, voice roughed with his efforts. “You make such a beautiful vessel for our offspring. I can hardly wait to see you swollen… to make you bounce your beautiful, rounded body on my cock again…”

Tears leak from your eyes at the memories and images he conjures, his words that mix of praise and insult only making your cunt throb harder. You keen around his cock as it jabs the back of your throat. So hard and leaking, you can feel him readying to blow… your hips buck against nothing. Just a constant slow slap of your ass back on the bed to remind him where he needs to come.

“Heh,” he pants, his laugh more of a growl, a feral sound from his throat. “Eager, my treasure?” He slows, one last thrust deep enough to make your neck strain open until you gag, and he pulls his length free. He is too graceful to scramble, that lean pale body sinuous as he slides back between your thighs, his mouth covering yours to taste yours.

Spit and early cum on your tongue that you selfishly thrust inside his mouth, a gratified hum rattling your teeth as he groans in appreciation. “I do so love the taste of you… after you’ve tasted me…”

You chuckle, that aged line far from faded in its ability to make you clench.

But this time at last you clench around something… that blunted tip of his cock teases at your entrance, coaxing your own pathetic noises. It slides in so easily with how much slick there is. But, he’s determined to make you insane with lust. Only an inch inside you… then back out. Only a bit more… he thrusts, fast but shallow.

And you swear your womb is throbbing, your cervix screaming to be rammed until he floods you with what you crave.

“Master… master…” his title, his name tumbles pleas after plea as you yet endure this torture that only makes you weep from your eyes and your cunt.

At last, his hands find purchase under your knees, folding you in half and raising your entrance to the ceiling. Still seated inside you, he thrusts deep, mounting you to fuck. “Of course, my pet,” he pants at last. “Who am I to deny you what your body truly craves?”

All control snaps, all sense of restraint evaporating like the sweat that sticks to your whole body as he fucks. His mouth consumes yours, tongue addicted to the taste of your essences mingled. Your two made into one… just as he is about to do inside you.

To fill you with him to make something new… a bit of him and a bit of you…

“Fuck, Astarion,” the very idea of swelling with his offspring makes you clench as he bottoms out over and over again.

“That’s it, pet. Make room for Master so I can give you our child,” his voice rumbles in your ear. His head nuzzles against your neck, his fangs scraping and not biting your skin. Every thrust is a grunt, vocal cords fraying as he grows louder and tougher. His chest vibrates against yours as his hips snap. He chases his release, but not at the expense of yours.

The way your whole body pulses with the need for him… to take him deeper and harder, it makes you rock your hips and tug on the restraints on your arms.

“Mine… mine… MINE,” he growls into your ear, one hand leaving your leg to claw hard into your breast once more. A merciless squeeze around its fullness, a playful nip in your neck to taste you blood, and he sends your careening into orgasm.

All you know is the bloom of heat and the slap of wet flesh between your thighs. It soothes you, calms you… and finally with a roar, he completes you, seed pulsing and flooding your womb to take root again.

“Good… good… girl,” he rumbles the final word. A single, tender kiss on the underside of your ear is his one soft sigh of affection before he pulls out. He gives you a few more shallow thrusts however, just to be sure his cum is deep inside you.

Those crimson eyes scan his work, long nailed fingers raking up your ass to gather the seed that drips out before he shoves it back inside your channel. “Really darling, now don’t move a muscle. We want this to take, don’t we?”

That smirk that flashes down at you makes your walls clench, making more of his cream leak back out.

“Tch,” he sneers. “If you’re going to be so stubborn about it,” he leans in to whisper against your lips, “then I’ll just have to be more… persistent this time around.”

Your world spins as he flips you, twisting your bound arms to splay you on your belly.

And you grin, already sliding yourself up on your knees, face down into your sweat-soaked sheets. Ass in the air, you’re ready for more.

Ready to be mounted and mated. Ready to make room for him.

[sinead-smith-3]

He had panicked.

That was the only true explanation for his actions.

But that wasn’t possible. He was Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, and Right Hand of the Emperor. He was feared in every system of the Galaxy. He was the Scourge of the Jedi and Enforcer of Imperial Peace. He was unmatched in power and he Did. Not. Panic.

That somehow didn’t change the fact that he was currently sitting in the meager med-center of his T-4 shuttle, staring down at the unconscious 10-year-old boy that he had absolutely zero idea of how to care for. He had experienced more emotions in the last rotation than he had in the entire last decade, and his ordeal was still far from over.

What had happened was this:

The Grand Inquisitor arrived unannounced at his stronghold on Mustafar, bringing with him the corpse of the traitor Reva and the terrified young boy. Despite his fury at the interruption, Vader acquiesced to hearing his servant out. The Grand Inquisitor boasted about hunting Reva down and in the process discovered the child, who was clearly Force-sensitive. Vader had mostly tuned the Inquisitor out, his attention caught by the boy who, despite clearly being terrified, was doing his best to put on a brave face.

The boy was indeed strong in the Force. Rather too strong, actually. Vader’s Jedi hunters should have found the boy cycles ago. There was also something oddly, uncomfortably, familiar about the child’s sun-bleached hair and bright, blue eyes.

“Where did you find him?” Vader demanded, cutting the Inquisitor off mid-sentence. Accustomed to such treatment, the Inquisitor changed tack flawlessly. “Reva led us straight to him, my Lord. He was on Tattooine.”

Vader’s train of thought screeched to a halt like a runaway eopie approaching a canyon edge.

“Tattooine,” he echoed slowly, ominously.

“Yes, my Lord,” the Inquisitor confirmed, wisely moving back out of striking distance. “He was being protected by a farmer named Lars.” Vader would have stopped breathing if the apparatus implanted into his throat would have allowed it.

He leaned forward on his throne and beckoned the child closer. The boy raised his chin defiantly and marched to Vader’s side like a soldier marching to certain doom. He stopped close enough to be able to touch Vader’s knees if he had wanted to and tried to meet Vader’s eyes through the mask.

“What,” Vader asked carefully, trying for the first time ever to minimize the inevitable terror his voice caused, “Is your name?”

The boy braced himself as if he knew the answer to this question determined the course of the rest of his life because it most certainly did.

“My name is Luke Skywalker,” the boy declared.

The next few moments were a bit hazy. Vader would have to work out the details later. The next thing he knew, the Grand Inquisitor lay scattered around his throne room in still-steaming chunks, the entire fortress was riddled with cracks down to the foundation, and the boy was unconscious (but unharmed!) in Vader’s arms.

The most logical thing he could think of to do was to get the boy to his shuttle and watch his stronghold crumble into the lava pits as he set a course for the middle of absolutely nowhere.

Which is how he had come to be here, drifting in empty space while he waited nervously for the boy to wake up. The medical scan told him there was nothing physically wrong with the child beyond mild exhaustion and a bit of dehydration, but he had been asleep for going on seventeen hours and Vader was fairly certain that was not a normal amount even for a child who’d been through some very traumatic events.

When the child finally did begin to stir, Vader belatedly realized that waking up to find Darth Vader looming over him was probably not going to be beneficial for the boy’s mental state and retreated to the cockpit. He left all the doors between the med-bay and the cockpit unlocked, however, so the boy could seek him out if he chose to. Not like he would. No rational person would willingly seek an audience with Darth karking Vader.

Yet somehow, about a half hour later, he heard the shuffle of tiny feet, and someone cleared their throat behind him. He turned in the pilot’s chair; slowly so as not to startle the boy. Luke Skywalker stood in the doorway, his tan robes wrinkled and his blonde hair disheveled, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

“Where am I?” he asked in a voice still thick with sleep. The sound of it acted like a pass card in Vader’s brain that bypassed a decade’s worth of walls and barriers to crank his protective instincts into overdrive.

“We are in space,” Vader replied tersely.

Luke blinked slowly at him. “Am I in trouble?” he asked cautiously.

Vader had to delay answering while he wrestled the instinctive flare of parental rage back into submission. “No, you are not,” he said finally. “Why would you think you are?”

Luke shrugged. “Cause Uncle Owen always says that if I misbehave the Stormtroopers are gonna come and take me away. Only this time I don’t think I was bad. Aunt Beru told me to run and I did. I ran and ran but then I fell down and… And I don’t remember what happened after that.”

Vader allowed himself three breaths before attempting to explain. “You are not being punished, Luke. I am… I am trying to protect you.”

Luke tilted his head, his eyes going narrow and suspicious. “From who?”

“From people who would wish to use you for their own purposes.”

Luke’s expression cleared as understanding set in. He nodded confidently. “You mean like slavers.”

“Yes,” Vader said, and then paused while he thought about that. “Exactly like slavers.”

Luke bit his lower lip and looked down. “Does this mean I can’t go home? Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru are real worried about me, I’m sure. They don’t like it when I’m gone all night.”

There was a less than zero chance that Owen and Beru Lars would ever have to worry about anything ever again, but Vader was not going to tell that to Luke right now. “No. You cannot return home, for your safety. Your aunt and uncle… would want you to be safe.”

“Okay,” Luke whispered. He shuffled his feet. “May I have something to eat?”

Vader was out of the pilot’s chair and ushering Luke to the galley before the boy could process the sight of the Emperor’s Most Faithful bearing down on him with the intensity of a clawbird swooping over its prey. Within minutes he had the boy seated on the prep counter as he dug through the storage units for anything that was not a tasteless ration bar.

He found a hoska steak that was probably intended for his own meal, as well as some dehydrated vegetables and self-rise bread. Each item had helpful instructions printed on the packages, so Vader was able to present the boy with a decent-looking meal in a reasonable amount of time.

There was nothing suitable onboard for the boy to drink other than plain water, but when Vader set the bottle on the table by the boy’s elbow, Luke’s eyes went impossibly round.

“For me?” he asked breathlessly, staring at the single-serving bottle. “That’s all for me?”

Vader barely quelled the urge to break something large and heavy into teeny tiny pieces. “Yes,” he said with difficulty. “You may drink the entire portion.”

Because of course the child had never been given the luxury of more than a few sips of water a day. Of course the cycle of poverty that trapped moisture farmers into little more than indentured servitude forced them to sell most of the harvest except the bare necessity they needed to survive. Luke had grown up relying on bantha milk for his main source of hydration; water being a privilege he was rarely able to indulge in.

Luke tore into his food with a healthy appetite, a sight that did wonders to calm Vader’s seething rage at the thought of what the boy’s childhood must have been like. He seemed to enjoy the meat particularly, and Vader remembered that meat that had not been desiccated into jerky was a rare find on Tattooine.

Luke ate every scrap on his plate and drained the bottle of water. Better to hydrate now than to save it for later and risk losing it. This was a lesson every child on Tattooine learned at an early age. Once his plate was clean and his bottle empty, Luke folded his hands in his lap and turned his blue-eyed gaze to Vader’s mask. There was still trepidation in that gaze, born mostly from uncertainty, but the fear had faded into caution.

“Do you have any chores for me to do?” Luke asked politely. “I’m pretty good at chores. Aunt Beru says so, even though Uncle Owen sometimes disagrees.”

Vader stared back at the boy. The boy, he forces himself to think, because he will not give voice nor substance to the hope that had flared up in the empty void of what had once been his soul when he had heard the boy’s name. The boy wanted to do chores. The boy wanted to be useful. The boy wanted to pay back Vader’s kindness for feeding him and keeping him safe.

Kindness. From Vader.

What in the Sith hells was he doing? Vader was in no position to care for any being, much less a tiny, fragile, Force-sensitive one! He had no safe haven he could take this child, no resources to provide for him, and no one he could request help from. By now word had to have reached the Emperor of his deeds. It would be noted that the transponder of his personal shuttle was no longer functioning. He had permanently disabled communications to prevent any Imperial from even trying to contact him. He was currently spending most of his limited energy trying to dampen his Force signature so that Palpatine could not find him that way, either.

No Imperial system was safe for him anymore. He had heard the rumors, as many others had, of pockets of resistance to the Empire, but those were mostly that: rumors. And even if these pockets actually existed, they did not have the power to shelter him from Palpatine. And if, by some miracle, they did, not a single one would be willing. Not for him, Lord Vader: Conqueror of a Thousand Worlds, Death Incarnate, Harbinger of Darkness.

He was alone in this mission, to protect this boy from Palpatine. Alone in a way he had never truly been. Vader clenched his right fist so tightly he could hear the servos protesting. If that was how it must be, then he would find a way to succeed or he would forge one. There was no other possibility. Despite his misgivings, Darth Vader was now the sole guardian of one Luke Skywalker.

Force have mercy on anyone who stood in his way.

[gurlwords]

Dear Leon

Dear Leon,

I will never send this letter to you, it will never reach your eyes. And for that, I am grateful.

I met you when I was 19. I remember I was messaging a very aggressive man on tinder, but I decided to unmatch him and talk to you instead since you were calmer, and my age. You fell first (because you were on molly) but I fell harder. You were my first real heartbreak. You may not have taken my virginity, but you took my innocence. So many moments of my life I wonder when the other shoe will fall, because of what you did to me, what you did to Erica. To certainly many other women.

Sometimes, I give my girlfriends harsh advice. "Dump him" "Leave him" "He doesn't like you". All of this is rooted in how you treated me. Because I look back on our relationship and I wasted so much time, so much love on someone who didn't care about me. You never showed up. I did my best - cajoled, begged, argued, seduced. All of this for me to see you only maybe a handful of times in real life. And you ghosted - this was the most painful of all. I would keep texting you over and over again and you would ignore it or leave me on read. At least other women get the satisfaction of a response. I learned never to send the classic paragraphs-long rage text, because you would happily ignore it. And I was so weak, so insecure, so dependent, that when you would text a simple

"hello"

I would come running back. Every time.

I let you. I let you. Why did I let you??

I was always waiting for you to spend time with me. I thought that if we texted long enough, that you would want to be with me. I humiliated myself beyond recognition to hopefully receive your attention. I told you my deepest fantasies - fantasies that are no longer true. You would even screenshot my nude photos. You gossiped to your little about how I slept with you, and your little slept with my big. And the sex was so .... meaningless. You jackhammered. It hurt. I bled. And this was what I prayed for?

I remember how excited I would get, how fast my heart would leap when I saw your name on facebook messenger. It was like a present, something wonderful to unwrap and treasure until you would hopefully message me again. And thank God, thank you God, that I can no longer view our message history. He protects me with His grace. I am sitting in the shadow of shame right now as it is.

I am sorry to Erica, above all. I was delusional, insane, acting out of insecurity above anything. I was the other woman without knowing, and then I did know. I did not love myself as I should, and she was punished because of that. She hated me for good reason, and I got off lucky. May God protect her from men like you. May she only know real, true, unconditional love from now on.

You were sick. And insecure. And broken. You were so shallow, hell-bent on appearances when in reality you were protecting yourself from the fact that you were rotting from the inside out. I still remember when you told me I should buy new clothes because the ones I owned were not flattering. I took that to heart. And once I told my sociology class about that incident, thinking nothing of it. The teacher's assistant apologized to me after class.

And after Shane died, you said cruel things. You expressed sick fantasies around a dead man's body. I let you, how could I let you? But the truth was, when I met Shane I was so deeply heartbroken over you that I ignored all the red flags, I ignored my heart, I was numb. I so deeply grieved you that I behaved in such a cruel, unkind way. Cheating, lying, ignoring. A way I would never let myself behave now.

Eventually, it got tiring. I didn't love myself anymore or any less, I was just exhausted. The same avoidant style, over and over again. You holding power over me, still. There was no more excitement, no more spark. No more hope.

I am learning to love myself now. I am learning to center myself now. I am learning to hear myself now. When that little voice in the back of my 19-year-old mind said "don't see him", I ignored it. And I will listen now. I wish I could go back in time and hold myself tightly through the pain she went through. I wish I could protect her, 10 times over. I let myself be shuffled to the side, ignored, verbally abused.

There is love in me. There is love for me. I will love, so powerfully and truly it will be beyond my current comprehension.

I dreaded writing this. Even writing this now my heart aches again. There is so much hurt lingering in my heart because of you. How could you? How could you!! I wonder. You broke, no, destroyed, no- decimated my heart. I was callous, jaded, for so long because of what you did.

I will pick myself up again. I will love myself. I will center myself. Beyond the shell there is a small chick, delicate and fragile. May she blossom into the beautiful creature she was always meant to be.

What happened does not define me. It does not define my future. I have the power to stand up and say "Never again!". I reclaim my power, I reclaim my love. I reclaim my innocence. It is mine, it is of me, and so it cannot be taken from me. You never outgrow young love unless you decide it. I have learned love from friends and family, those who show up when I am weak, angry, bitter. They are excited to see me, to hug me, to love me. I am healing so that I may be soft again, loving, tender. Kind. This is my power. I am brave for this, I am brave to admit this past I so desperately wish to forget because I deserve a beautiful future. I admit weakness to accept strength. I hold my heart and let her love. This is my promise to myself.

-Sarah

[the-firebird69]

Wiz Khalifa - See You Again ft. Charlie Puth [Official Video] Furious 7 ...

This applies to a lot of Macs these guys are out here swinging dicks during the war all sorts of things are happening a lot of them get stranded and they realize the nature of the plan and Mark Debussy his body has been possessed his brain is somewhere if he gets it back together he has a chance if you joining as to all the max have a chance to rejoin and they know about it and it's like a trial and court and everything that they go through the facts and one of them is these people surround people and to make it so you can't inflation or make a move and that's the process that we're talking about where things got a little dicey Mark Debussy cause the accident the rooster had and that's what my grandpa Obama was calling him because he was out there first on the hammer and it let's 50 caliber fully automatic and everybody else would begin firing that's what this job's been for a while and dad has a summary retire but he got dumped on his bike and he blamed a bunch of people and he was wrong but it was really this guy so he dumped it on his bike and he took his body and he was using it for a while I guess he got caught and it's been a nice for quite a while but he used it for the surgery to try and pin it on them when the family had him do it cuz they knew the body was missing now the max orchestrate this stuff to get it out and say that they're out of control there's too many and they did on purpose and a lot of them do that but they did notice it's out of control and it's still out of control and there's a lot less of them these guys are spoiled rotten and they did not miss the psychology they want them to be dangerous. So there's a point of redemption they say and they're going to say to Debussy if he ever gets it back together and he gets his body gets cut in half and they're going after Trump's cryogenics facilities and think about it he has Mac bodies and Mac brains and they know what the plan is and they're very high up that guy is higher up okay in Wentworth I believe it was Trump imitating him and he was not a Mac so he's kind of screwed himself with this with that whole scenario you can't tell who people are and you imitating him and he ends up taking the body and he's exposing himself and his people by doing so and it's really a much bigger deal than just exposing him up in Brandon and Tampa it's much bigger than exposing him doing it to me and taking power and so forth which is a big deal cuz he's using it on center rings ringleaders infiltration and to anti-inflation and it works to a degree and they have full position in Saturn and they have a fleet that is very powerful with very very powerful weapons and ground bases that are unmatched and nobody is looking at the right way huge underground facilities that are not compromised right now gigantic stores and cashes and cashes and stashes just humongous numbers of weapons and they're down any caverns and finally people are paying attention and it took having Trump getting exposed and somebody exposed him on purpose to lead in and they're saying back and then you see me anything and when I say it's no there's trillions of concern people on the planet even your own people like Brian that's smart enough to know you're going to sit there and be this idiot and you're going to get up the butt in your rectum as you're sitting there and you won't notice because so many things have gone in and out

Zues

Okay that last part that's enough

Hera

Weeew thought we were going to get through it we're through it we're out of it thank God

Thor

Oh my god look who I was jokes he says you're not fooling me that was Hera she's a terror and jealous not a second not a second I wish she'd let me sleep on the floor for Christ's sake. She said she heard him say that once to her she's going okay he's down she's a little nicer and things went a little smoother

Freya

Good God that was horrible he says like Spock says pure energy and you guys just keep on talking it doesn't stop dingleberry it just keeps on going

Cassandra

Olympus

[leagueoflegendsimagines]

Hi❤️✨

I could ask Sett interested in a vastaya singer who is a sweetheart? She loves to donate money for poor children! Because of this she constantly receives proposals from many guys who want to have her as a wife.

- As an influential man in Ionia, Sett had known you - even indirectly - for a long time.

- He knew many things about you. He knew your voice, your passions. He was well aware of the voluntary work you'd do on your free days, of the incredibly generous donations you'd make for poor and homeless, orphaned children.

- His mother wouldn't stop talking about you. As a gift, he took her to one of your private concerts

- Out of... both curiosity and kindness for his dear mother.

- Sett was left speechless the first time he heard you sing. A gentle yet strong voice that brought such a sweet torment to his heart. It left his chest feeling heavy yet light at the same time.

- It brought him a peace and quiet state of mind that he hadn't been able to experience in a long, long time.

- He became more interested in who you were after that first concert. A fateful night it had been. One that left him thinking about you on a daily basis, dreaming about your hopeful and bright eyes...

- And about your voice. Only his mama had ever managed to bring him such comfort. It was a strange feeling, to receive that fulfilling peace from another woman.

- Slowly but steadily, Sett became a part of your life by indirect means.

- He was there for every concert, in the front seats - or at one of the closest tables to the stage.

- He'd watch you with a careful, guarded gaze.

- In time, you couldn't help but pick you small details about this mysterious man. He seemed to prefer white wine over red, but on occasion he'd switch things up. He always wore elegant but somewhat casual clothing, spreading an atmosphere of relaxed power.

- Like a tiger relaxing after a long hunt.

- You also noticed how he'd always order seafood when he came to watch you. Or any type of light food. Second to seafood, he'd order soups.

- What you noticed the most was the responsible way he behaved- something you wouldn't expect from a man as notorious as he was, known for his reckless and brutal fighting days.

- But Sett was indeed more responsible and educated than most people would've guessed. Not in his younger days, no. Definitely not when he first started his job in the fighting pits. Back then he was close to a brute, full of issues and anger directed to the whole world. Back then, he could only be gentle toward his mother.

- Things had changed drastically over the last decade. He was still ruthless when needed - an unmatched fighter - but...

- Sett had taken the time to educate himself. Learn some manners, study the basic knowledge he'd need in higher societies.

- He didn't enjoy being less than what he could be - being less than those bastards who dragged his mama through mud.

- He'd promised himself he would be better than them. And he was, by all means.

- It caught your attention. While other men and women would indulge in the pleasure of drinking and eating a bit too much, he would always.... eat light. And he would always have three - only three, never more - glasses of wine, followed by a light cocktail made out of the tropical flavors so well known in Ionia.

- You found it endearing. And you know who he was - you'd be incredibly dumb and ignorant to not know the face of one of the most powerful men in Ionia.

- Then he started showing up at your volunteering center. Not often...

- But enough to make himself a well known person in your circle of friends.

- Your friendship bloomed in a very gentle manner, through casual small talk while you tutored children that were too poor and too troubled to do well academically.

- You were surprised to see how well versed he was.

- And Sett proved to be a very good teacher. He knew how to explain things to these children. He went through the very same experience, after all.

- And there was no one as gentle and as attentive as Sett proved to be. The children loved him more than anyone else - almost more than they loved you.

- You fell in a pleasant and almost intimate friendship with Sett. You rarely saw him outside of the volunteering activities. But he was always present at your concerts and sometimes.... sometimes he'd invite you to dinner at his house.

- He'd always use his mother as an excuse, saying how she truly admired you and enjoyed your company. And you were more than happy to oblige him.

- You enjoyed his mother's company.

- You also enjoyed his company.

- As Sett grew closer to you, it was easy for him to notice just how much masculine attention you'd get.

- Men seemed to swarm around you, constantly flirting or trying to court you.

- He couldn't really judge them - you truly were an amazing woman. And you'd definitely be an amazing wife and mother.

- But it still made him... angry.

- So, so very angry.

- He didn't see you only as wife material. He saw you as a person - a person that held so much potential and power. You were beautiful and smart. And kind. You mentally challenged him in so many ways. You made him wish to improve even more.

- To be someone worthy of your affections.

- Unsurprisingly, quite a few of your suitors started disappearing from your inner circles once Sett had his gaze on them. He didn't hurt them - but he did make sure they would keep their distance.

- It made you grateful.

- It also made you curious.

- And then you decided to try out your luck.

- It happened one evening, when he took you home.

- You couldn't help it. Not when you were looking up to him - watching the moon light streaming down his handsome, thoughtful face. He was speaking to you, of course. But you could only focus on the raw power and strength that emanated from him.

- And then you kissed him. A soft, gentle kiss that lasted for only a second before you wished him a good night and entered the comfort of your home.

- But you still caught a glance of the boyish grin on his face and the hungry glint in his eyes.

[chaozsilhouette]

A Revealing Performance

My rendition for the Shadow Play in @winterpower98's Swap Au.

It was supposed to be a simple thing, then it sort of spiraled into this whole deal. For the effects of the Shadow Lantern, I drew some inspiration from her Cursed Au as I never thought simply using her friends was cruel enough for the Monkey Tyrant.

It serves to show just how far Macaque has grown, but also to highlight just how monstrous he was.

_____________________________

Mei refrained from downing her bubble tea as she waited for the play to start. It had been a rough couple of weeks with Spider Queen and that creepy girl. And failing to find where Xiaotian had run off to after the misunderstanding. When Macaque sent her tickets to the local theatre, she was ashamed to think it was a trap.

Pigsy and Sandy were right. After everything that happened, she needed some serious me time. She had been too stressed.

Besides, everyone knew Macaque was a total theatre nerd. Few people knew that the star puppeteer was actually the Six-Eared Macaque himself. He would totally send her tickets from his stomping grounds as a way to unwind.

It was a shame that Tang couldn’t join them. Apparently, he finally managed to schedule a meeting with the Celestial Realm and was Taking the demon brothers to figure out a new way of sealing the Monkey Tyrant. It was also his chance to explain their little break-in during New Years. He encouraged her to have fun and if it was good, he’d join them for the next showing.

So here they were waiting for the performance to start. Although she wondered what the fake mayor was doing here. They hadn't seen him since he gave her the skeleton key. Still wasn't sure why he had it or why he gave it to her? Supposedly she was only supposed to have it for a day, but he never stopped by to pick it up.

_____________________________

Sun Wukong was a monkey of many talents, but even he had to admit Macaque was a far better storyteller and his mastery of shadows was sheer perfection. But that just made this plan all the more perfect. What better way to teach his wayward beloved’s little flower a lesson than through a trusted medium.

Obtaining a spot in the local theatre was child’s play, a little magic and they were all but begging him to take center stage. Apparently, they had been scrambling to find a new performer after their star puppeteer had to leave for a family emergency (three guesses as to who that was). And with a little glamor, a set of tickets was left at the little flower's doorstep. As far as she knew, Macaque was proud of her progress and believed she had deserved a reward for all her hard work. She was so desperate for something to go right she hardly questioned how her mentor, who was in parts unknown, managed to secure tickets for a new performer.

In his personal dressing room, Wukong delicately touched up his human disguise. Even if he was going to be hidden in his hanfu and cloak, it wouldn’t do to spoil the surprise. Applying his eye shadow with artful flair, the Monkey King took time to appreciate just how handsome he truly was no matter what form he took. Honestly, who would have thought such perfection existed?

A pulse of dark magic drew his attention to his latest partner in crime.

The Shadow Lantern gently floated before him. Its dark magic practically purring at the thought of being used. Wukong could almost laugh at his beloved’s foolishness. He was there when his darling created the lantern, when he infused his own shadows into its very foundation. Did he honestly think such a masterpiece would tolerate being left to collect dust in a cave?

Normally a magical artifact would never consider turning on its master, but after centuries of abandonment, all Wukong had to do was whisper his intentions to return Macaque to his former self to secure its loyalty. The second he first made contact, he could sense a twisted hunger writhing within and with each performance granting it the chance to feed on the life essence of the viewers…. hehe, he almost couldn’t contain himself.

Looking up at the clock, he saw it was just about time for his next performance. His clones had reported the girl’s presence along with the pig and the water demon. Strangely the one with glasses and the little matchstick was absent. No matter, he could make do with two hostages just fine.

After all, the show must go on.

_____________________________

The overhead lights dimmed, signaling the start of the play. Smoke slowly poured from beneath the floorboards, generating an air of mystery. In a flash of golden light, a tall man wearing a beautiful cloak manifested on center stage. The crowd silenced themselves at the display.

“Welcome viewers to a performance you shall never forget!” From the folds of his sleeves, an exquisite lantern floated in front of him. A mesmerizing yet familiar purple glow emanating from the center.

“Our tale tonight is one of love, companionship, and how even the strongest of bonds can be severed through the trickery of the wicked.”

In the background, the shadows twisted and grew in the lantern’s light. Carefully they formed a beautiful scene of a mountain covered in flowers and trees. Attention was gradually guided to the top, where a round stone basked in the sun.

“It all began with the birth of a King.”

The round stone broke, revealing a figure that resembled a monkey. But no, this was a monkey demon, a monkie if you would. The King journeyed down the mountain until he found a tribe of normal monkeys. The group frolicked for a while as the King established himself as the undisputed ruler of the tribe.

A large figure with an ax appeared. The monster brought down his ax upon a small collection of monkeys only to be stopped at the last second by the King. The King used his superior strength to steal the demon’s ax and used it to decapitate the intruder in a single stroke. The monkeys jumped around the King and praised his strength, but the King did not appear satisfied.

“The young King was born with great power and strength, but he sought out more to protect his people.”

The King crafted a raft and set out on a dangerous sea. The King was shown to face off against mountain gods, human warriors, and demonic sorcerers always to reign victorious but never satisfied.

“In his travels, he learned much and faced many enemies, in time his efforts were handsomely rewarded.”

The King climbed a fleet of stairs carved into a mountain to reach a humble monastery. At the top, a stern human stood, but behind him was another monkie. This one however possessed six ears.

“His quest for power led him to a Warrior of potential equaling his own. At first, neither was sure how to react to their mirror, but they quickly forged a comradery that took them far.”

The two monkies trained together, mastering new powers as they sparred.

“Their time together increased their power exponentially and as they grew stronger their feelings blossomed into something beautiful.”

The two were on a cliff overlooking the stars, slowly leaning closer to one another. Eventually, the two faced their opposite and leaned in close.

“Their fates had become intertwined. Their power was unmatched. It was then the King realized what he had been searching for all this time.”

The two shadows merged together in a complex dance until they separated into two beings once again, but not as they began. The two monkeys were now garbed in elaborate, yet practical armor and silks. The King wielded a staff and the Warrior took up a spear.

“Slowly their strength grew to where nothing could challenge them, whether in the Celestial Realm or on Earth.”

The King and Warrior were shown battling heavenly armies and powerful demons with confident smirks. Each battle resoundingly won through their combination of speed, strength, and cunning.

“But it was not enough. The King wished to ensure that he and the Warrior would be able to fight together forever and sought the power and respect needed to secure their future.”

The King took to the Heavens, where he stood before an Emperor in the most extravagant outfit, surrounded by massive guards in magical armor. The Emperor was clearly afraid as the King effortlessly toppled one guard after another, slowly approaching the throne at a steady pace.

“The King’s noble actions were viewed negatively by those who feared his ever-growing power. Eventually, a prison was crafted that could restrain the King, one that not even his beloved Warrior could destroy.”

Just before the King’s latest attack could reach the Emperor, chains wrapped around his limbs and dragged him down to Earth. With a quick flex, the chains shattered, but the King was doomed as a mountain landed on him with a seal placed at the top. The Warrior tried to pry off the seal or find some way to weaken the mountain, his acts growing more desperate with time, yet nothing worked.

“Cruelly, the King was forced to wait until he could be freed, forced to watch his precious Warrior defend their Kingdom on his own.”

With a heavy expression, the Warrior abandoned his efforts to return to the original mountain as dozens of terrifying figures surrounded the monkey inhabitants.

“Centuries passed and their love still burned strong. Soon their patience was rewarded, the King was freed but he was soon trapped in a new prison.”

A monk approached the mountain and removed the seal. The King swiftly destroyed the mountain. The monk humbly bowed to the King and offered fresh clothing and a fillet. The King garbed himself in the gifts only to collapse in agony when the monk prayed.

“Enraged the King played along until the time was right. The King and the Warrior reunited in secret and crafted a plan that would allow them to take their revenge on those that dared to separate them.”

The two monkies hugged and nuzzled each other in appreciation. A quick conversation later, the Warrior changed to resemble the King and joined the monk as the King headed into unknown lands.

“Decades later the King was ready to retrieve his love, confident in his regained strength. But when he arrived the Warrior had changed. It was as if the warrior had lost a crucial part of himself. The Warrior tried to dissuade the King from killing the monk and his companions. He even tried to convince him to give up his rage at the Celestial Realm, believing the war that would ensue wasn't worth it.”

The disguised Warrior was traveling with four colorful characters. The King dropped from the sky in front of the group, a massive crater forming around him. The Warrior regained his true form, but instead of returning to his rightful place, he blocked the King’s view of the monk.

“The King could not believe his ears. This could not be his Warrior. His love always understood his goals and knew why heaven had to pay. The King knew this change was the monk’s fault. The King moved to silence the deceiver in one quick strike only to find it blocked by the Warrior.”

The King and Warrior exchanged blows that tore mountains asunder, split the heavens, and burned down forests. The other demons following the monk tried to aid the warrior, but nothing they did seemed to slow down the King, if anything their attacks only served to further enrage him.

“The two clashed until the Warrior fled with the jailers. Time and time again they clashed, but never could the King reach the Warrior he held in his heart.”

The group fled from the battle, but time and time again the King tracked them down. The locations may have changed, but the carnage after each battle remained as world-shattering as the first. In the end, the Group managed to truly escape, and the Warrior vanished into the shadows he wielded, leaving the King alone with nothing but his memories.

“Even now the King yearns for the companionship of his beloved Warrior, knowing that at his core the Warrior craves the same.”

With the final line sending shivers down the spines of the viewers, the puppeteer vanished in a flash of light.

_____________________________

As Mei waited for her family to walk out, she couldn’t help but think about the play. It almost sounded like they were telling the tale of the Monkey King. But that was ridiculous. No one knew the Monkey King’s origins aside from minor details from the Journey to the West. Besides the narrator seemed to view the Monkey Tryant as a hero and victim. Clearly, that guy needed a reality check.

“Hello, young one.” Nearly choking on the remainder of her tea, Mei turned to see the puppeteer standing behind her with a knowing smile.

His cloak shrouding the top of his face in shadow. For a second, Mei envisioned her father Macaque. He would adore that look. Actually, didn’t she see a similar outfit in his closet on Flower Fruit Mountain? Doesn’t he wear that outfit when he’s hosting a shadow play?

Wait. How did he sneak up on her like that? Was she that out of it?

How long has she been quiet? Crap! Say something! “Oh. Ah-hello. C-can I help you with something?”

“I was about to ask the same. You do know the theatre is going to close soon right?”

“What?” Mei grabbed her phone. The digital clock flashed that it was past nine. That couldn’t be right. That meant she had been waiting for nearly an hour. But where were the others? Surely, they wouldn’t have left without telling her. Were they in trouble?

“Is everything alright?”

“Ah- yeah, everything’s fine.” It’s cool. It’s cool. She could handle this. She just needed to stay calm. “No need to worry about me. I just ah-I have a few questions about your play.”

“Yes.”

“How did you could up with the concept? I mean, no offense, but your premise could be taken the wrong way.” Maybe it was the panic over where her family had disappeared to, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being sized up.

“Hm. Have you ever heard the expression ‘History is written by the winners’?”

“Yes. It’s pretty common.” Like one of the most used sayings in the world.

“The tale was designed to show that love is one of the most cherished feelings of all and that in order to protect it, one must be willing to do anything to keep their loved ones safe. The King only wished to keep his beloved by his side, but the Warrior was misled and forced to battle against his love. That story may belong to only two, but similar tales can be experienced in anyone’s life. Tell me, can you think of a time you fought with those you cared about due to a misunderstanding?”

Without even considering it, horrible memories resurfaced. Mei arguing with MK as she tried to stop him from leaving with the newly released Monkey King. Mei forced to battle Red Son as his mind was slowly consumed by the True Fire of Samadhi. Tang lying to them about his true identity. Macaque leaving when they needed him most without saying why.

“I see you can.” The puppeteer gently guided her back into the main hall, where she took a seat on an empty bench.

“It’s nothing. I just-” She honestly didn’t know why she was pouring out her heart to stranger. Maybe she really was that exhausted. “-there’s so much going on and I’m supposed to be strong no matter what. But sometimes it hurts, just thinking about all my mistakes. Sometimes I wonder if I truly am strong. What if bringing me into this was a mistake?”

“What if it was?” That voice!

Mei turned to see Macaque garbed in a strange outfit, one that honestly reminded her of the Monkey King’s. She was confused. She had never seen him wear anything like that, he looked like the Monkey King’s twisted shadow.

And that expression! Her father Macaque had never made that face before. It looked as though he was reveling in her suffering.

“What’s the matter, little jade? Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone.” He extended a hand slowly with the intent to cradle her face. A normal gesture he would use to comfort her, but her every instinct was screaming at her to get away.

Mei jumped to her feet and pulled out her spear, aiming it right between the imposter’s eyes. “Enough games!”

Macaque stared at the spear for a second, his fiendish expression only growing more vicious. He threw his head back with a full-bodied laugh, showing how little he thought of her threat. “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

In a flash of light, the Monkey Tyrant was standing before her, still wearing his puppeteer disguise. “Wow. About time. For a while, I was wondering if you’d ever figure out it was me.” His red and gold eyes carefully roved over her body, taking in every shake and fearful twitch. “Put down the spear, kid. We both know you’re not nearly good enough to scratch me with such a pitiful copy of the Dragon Blade.”

That may have been true, but she’d sooner make out with DBP in full view of Queen Iron Fan than leave herself completely open before this tyrant. “So the play was from your perspective. I always figured you were delusional, but this is a new low. Where is my family?” She all but growled, unknowingly her canines had slightly elongated in response to her rage.

“They never left. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize this.” The Monkey King took out the lantern, once more bathing the room in that familiar glow.

“What’s the big deal about a lantern?”

The stone monkie found her ignorance all the more entertaining. To think he hadn’t warned her of his own past.

“The big deal is that my dear warrior crafted this lantern long ago. It was his finest work and like everything he made it has multiple uses.” With a simple hand gesture, the silhouettes of Pigsy and Sandy appeared on the walls. “The Shadow Lantern can do more than enhance one’s skills in shadow magic, it can trap the bodies and souls of its targets. So long as the targets are trapped, the lantern can steal the shadows of its victims so its master can use them as a personal army until there is nothing left.”

“You expect me to believe Macaque made something so disgusting?” Even as Mei said it, she couldn’t help but recognize how similar the lantern’s magic was to her teacher’s. It was cool and soothing, but on the edge, there was an unmistakable edge of malice. “Even if he did, I doubt he made it without you whispering in his ears.”

“Oh child, you have no idea how many secrets he keeps from you. Let me share one with you.” The lantern grew brighter, and the silhouettes of her family members gained more substance as they peeled away from the walls.

Mei adjusted herself so all opponents were in her sight, but nothing could stop the sweat collecting on her forehead.

She sensed something powerful appear behind her. Jumping out of the way as a spear nearly severed her arm. She faced her new opponent. Only to almost drop her weapon.

Standing before her was another copy of Macaque only this one was even more disturbing. Its eyes burned with purple light, the shadows loving curled around it, but worst of all was the sneer filled with razor-tipped teeth.

“Did you honestly think my love was always so nice?”

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Nothing Alike: I

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: (future as well as present) violence, angst, smut, fluff, language

A/N: Hello and thank you for choosing to read Nothing Alike. If you read my last series with Geralt you know that things can get pretty dark, but for the most part (at least right now) this story is going to be a bit more light hearted.

Masterlist

He prayed the rumors weren’t true.

He prayed that the dreaded letter he had received was nothing more than hyperbolic ramblings of the townsfolk.

He prayed that he wouldn’t have to raise his sword at all.

He just wanted to sleep, to be free of monsters for just a few days, to lay beneath the stars beside his horse while a fire cooked a rabbit he had caught and he dozed to the sound of crickets in the trees. That’s all he really wanted, and yet he was marching through the woods towards another town that had requested his presence. The sun was warm, filling the air with the rich scents of heated forest. It caressed his neck and shoulders, as if lulling him into the sleep he so desperately craved.

It had been a long time since he had been to the town that summoned him. When he had first been released back into the wild as a Witcher. 200 years ago, and it was still the dirtiest town he had ever seen. The moment he stepped inside he felt as if an extra layer of grime had been added to everything he owned. The air was thick and clogged and the windows were all shuttered closed, but strangest of all was the lack of people. The sun was still in high noon, yet there was no one. No one bustled to finish their shopping and no children played in the streets, it was like a ghost town. The only sound was the crows sitting on the rooftops and a very distance rumbling. He moved towards the center of the town, hoping the find an explanation for the silence.

And an explanation he received. Surrounding a bar was a mob of people, screaming and stopping their feet. That at least explained the rumbling, but it failed to explain why they were here, and what they were screaming about. He shoved his way through the crowd, knocking over the angry townspeople as he went.

“Hey, we don’t need another Witcher in this town to take our money,” an angry woman sneered at him, spitting on his shoes. He ignored her and continued forward, but her angry cry seemed to have alerted the crowd to his presence and pushing through the crowd was growing more difficult with each step. Finally, he made it to the center and found a crude fighting ring. Inside the ring was a cloud of dust and two people rolling around in the dirt.

One seemed much smaller than the other and he was unsure why such an unmatched fight had drawn such a crowd, until the bigger opponent let out a howl of pain. The smaller leapt away and then with a well-placed kick, knocked out a few teeth. Geralt dodged the molars and moved closer, trying to get a better look at the two opponents. Another few hits and the smaller was on top of the larger, a strong arm around his throat. The larger staggered backwards, slamming his opponent into the wall but they didn’t budge, only squeezing tighter until he tumbled to the ground, face blue.

“Tap out,” came the cry and without hesitation he did so. The smaller opponent climbed off and the crowd booed, clearly not in favor of the winner. The winner did not seem to care as they bowed, their hair tumbling out to reveal a woman behind all that grime. She was grinning as she collected her gold from the unhappy townsfolk. Her eyes flashed across his and he stepped back, startled by the gold irises that mimicked his own.

She was a witcher like him, and here she was wasting her life by robbing people of their gold. She walked towards the bar, her bag of coins jingling like bells on a sleigh. He pushed through the crowd and followed her into the bar, stalking her towards the booth in the back corner that he would have chosen anyway if she had not been there first.

He sat down across from her, but she didn’t acknowledge him, instead counting the gold that she had collected while outside.

“The bastards cheated me,” she sighed before glancing up and smiling. “Do you need something?”

“You’re a witcher.”

“Ah yes, an observant fellow, so are you.”

“You’re taking advantage of these people. You know you’ll win, it’s not a fair fight.”

“Our whole lives are unfair.”

“We were not made for this, we were made to save-,”

“Save ourselves, survive. Darling, you owe them nothing. How old are you anyway, a couple hundred years?”

“A few,” he growled, and she laughed, sliding the gold back into her pouch.

“Makes sense, you older witchers are all about tradition.” He wanted to throw her against the wall, anger boiling in a deep pit of his stomach. Here she was insulting him, and she didn’t even have the decency to offer him her full attention. She was braiding her hair!

“And by that you mean?”

“You think you’re the first Witcher with a vendetta to come around here and try to end all my fun?” He did his best to not let a look of surprise pass over his face, but she caught it anyway. “Oh you did, well if it makes you feel any better you’re the politest. The others had no sense of conversation, just show up and try to drag me out of town or kill me. You’ve all ranted about the same thing though, tradition.”

“You are a disgrace to your school-,”

“The school I didn’t choose to attend you mean, or maybe I’m a disgrace to the Witcher who brought me in, who convinced my mother that him taking me away was for the best because she couldn’t afford to feed us. Maybe I’m a disgrace to my dear old mother, but she’s dead now and honestly I wouldn’t give a fuck even if she was alive.” She stood up and turned towards the door but Geralt caught her wrist, yanking her back into the booth.

“Leave this town or I will be forced to make you.”

“You won’t be the first to try, and you won’t be the last to fail. This town has been trying to get me out for months. No one can make me do anything I don’t want to do, that’s the only gift they gave me, power to get ride of invasive pricks like you. So why don’t you move on, Witcher,” she spat. She yanked away but he didn’t let go of her arm, tightening his grip with every moment. She rolled her eyes and pulled out a needle point dagger, driving it through his arm and into the table.

He growled like a tortured animal, grinding his teeth trying not to let her escape his grasp, but she slipped out and disappeared into the unhappy crowd. He yanked the blade from his arm and charged after her. He watched her long braid whip around the corner, towards the inn portion of pub.

The stairs creaked under his feet, crying for reprieve but nothing slowed him down. He was going to drag her out of this town if it killed him. A door slammed behind him and the young witcher was grinning at him from a shutterless window. She blew him a kiss and fell backwards, dropping out of view. He rushed to the ledge and with a sneer she pulled herself out of the hay in which she had landed and took off down the street. He jumped, not bothering to brush off the hay and taking off after her.

The streets were crowded again with merchants and buyers, now that there was no desperate fight to rid themselves of a witcher everyone could continue with their day and make Geralt’s life a little more difficult than it had to be. While the complained about her under their breath it almost seemed that they were protecting her, rolling carts into his way and sending chickens after him.

Throughout the chase, he never let her out of her sight, trying to study her on the run. He was big and strong, a clear advantage if it came to hand to hand combat but he could tell she was quick and clever. Darting in and out of the crowd, using magic to gently shift things out of her way. It was skilled magic, one that he had never seen such a young witcher use so well. She must have been one of the best at school, an idol to all those who desired to become the best. But she had also been rebellious, the scars that creeped above her neckline proved that.  There was no anger in her eyes when she looked at him, only annoyance and small plea that he would just leave her alone. It was clear she had an idea about life that she could never achieve, but from the way she ran he was sure she would rather die than not try.

She darted into an alley and he followed/ When he finally came close, she was scaling the wall, punching handholds into the walls with very bloody fingers and moving faster than he would have expected. With the blunt edge of his sword he smacked the back of her knees, sending her tumbling to the ground.

From the ground she eyed his sword and backed away like a wild animal that had been cornered. He didn’t move while she stood, her back pressed against the stone wall. There was still no anger in her eyes, now, instead of annoyance, it was a wild look he had only found in rabid dogs.

“Not so tough now,” he taunted, drawing nearer, is sword prepared to defend whatever she threw at him. She barked a hoarse laugh and he watched as her fingers crept to her belt. There was no sword, only a small knife that would do nothing against his sword.

“They always said to go down fighting,” she replied and he shook his head.

“You don’t have to go down at all, just leave and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“Until I set up in another town and their lord calls for you to exterminate me, you don’t get your gold if I’m not dead. That’s why I had to kill them, every one he sent my way, because no will ever tell me what to do again.”

“What’s your name?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Just humor me.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m Geralt.”

“I don’t care who you are, only one of us is going to walk away from this, and if it’s me I couldn’t care less what the fuck your name is.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, we’re both going to walk away from this and you’re going to need to know my name,” he told her very calmly before swinging his sword and catching the side of her head with the blunt edge once more. Completely unconscious, she dropped to the ground, her knife tumbling from her hands.

[thotful-writing]

Descending into Darkness (1)

Summary:  Kylo Ren's fury is known across the galaxy, his ruthlessness is unmatched, and unchecked for far too long. The Finalizer may not survive another outburst if his rage isn't sated. Kylo makes a request of his officers, find him a nobody, a distraction he can use at his will. An exchange of credits leads to your purchase, securing your place at Kylo's feet to satisfy his every whim. Will you make it out alive or will you be pulled down into the dark depths of depravity with him?

Warnings: Force choking, degradation, blowjob, NSFW

On AO3

Words: 6.7k

A/N: Smut? Porn? Shameless and explicit. Slow start in this first chapter, but things definitely pick up. Thank you to @supremeleadershitlord for being my most amazing beta reader. 

Also, thanks for reading in advance! :)

Knotted fingers sat heavily in your lap, anxiety unfurling in the pit of your stomach as you remained silent. A gift. Obedient. Docile. The variance of words flitted through your mind, the words they’d used when they first approached the shop. Of course, Kil Zota, your most recent owner, was only too happy to nudge you towards the First Order officers when he heard the price they were willing to pay. In the years you’d been with him, you knew he would’ve sold you for much less, but he was quick to sing your praises and showcase your skills in obeying orders. He had been looking for a reason to downsize, always said there were too many mouths to feed even though he barely fed any of you.

Kil shoved you to the forefront the second he saw them approaching with their fine pressed uniforms and not a hair out of place. He gave them the whole over the top spiel, your skillset with fixing equipment and tech, how he’d barely heard you speak two words the entire time he had you, which they ate up, but they didn’t seem fully interested in your usefulness as much as your background. Perfect. The officers said with grins that made your skin crawl. The rest was nothing more than a blur of exchanging credits and objects, which included you and the rags you called clothing.

There was no point in fighting, not outright anyways. You’d been on Tatooine for years, too many to count, but enough to know you wanted out. You begged for the chance, the opening that let you slip away. You would’ve preferred an opening with less restraints, but you couldn’t be choosy. As far as owners, being purchased by the First Order didn’t seem like the absolute worst thing, although you still didn’t know what exactly they wanted with you.

“Think this is really going to help?” One of the officers asked as he took his seat in the front of the transporter.

“We’ve already had to repair six control panels on the bridge this week, not to mention the elevator. And the Commander made this specific request, I won’t be the one to question him.” The other officer glanced back at you.

“But this seems… extensive, just to stave off his rage? She’s-” He kept his voice low, but not low enough for you not to hear.

“He said find a nobody, she’s as nobody as they come. He destroys this one and no one’s going to come asking questions.”

They simultaneously talked as though you were and weren’t there, both arguing their point while they still headed in the direction of your destination. It wasn’t that you weren’t afraid, scared for what came next, but you had no way of avoiding it and it made no difference whether you cried or screamed to be taken back. You shifted in your restraints, feeling the heaviness of the cuffs weighing on your wrists. You wondered if they were to be a permanent fixture.

The transporter came to a slow as it docked with your destination, anxiety in full bloom now as it filled your stomach. The ramp of the transporter lowered slowly, adding to the build up to reveal your destination. As soon as the ramp lowered the rest of the way, you took a step forward, taking it all in. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen. A vastness that was greater than what your imagination conjured up when junkers spoke of discarded Federation ships from the old days. Hurried boots marched across the sleek floor, moving in unison as uniformed officers and stormtroopers made their way past you.

Life buzzed across the hangar, people hurrying to their next position while you waited on a breath for yours. You knew there were humans beneath the bulbous helmets, but they seemed so mechanical with their movements. In fact, all of them did. Every uniform that passed by you seemed devoid of any emotion or difference that would indicate they were more than an empty shell.

“Keep moving.” One of the officers nudged you forward down the ramp.

Sleek corridors matched the hard, sleek floors, decked in black and silver, contrasted only by the blinking red lights that peppered the panels. The chill in the air bit and nipped at your warm skin, a vast difference from the heated breeze on Tatooine. You took in your surroundings, however monochrome and unforgiving they seemed to be as you were pushed onward.

“Wait here.” The officer said as he paused outside of a large, framed door.

The officer finished entering a code on a small, numbered pad on the wall, causing the doors to open with a whir. They were hurrying you inside and shoving you forward through the room and without a word you complied.

“She does speak, right? Or at least understand English?” One of the men asked.

“You,” the other snapped his fingers, bringing your attention back to them, “say something.”

You hesitated, it wasn’t often that you were asked to speak, “um… yes, I can speak, actually-”

“Good. Now, when the Commander comes-“

The doors behind them slid open before he could give you an order.

A wall of muscle and thick, onyx clothing stood just inside the doorway, his presence demanding immediate attention. He had to be at least two feet taller than you and he looked as though he could break you in half. Without an introduction, you knew him by appearance alone. Dark, obsidian hair fell around his face, simultaneously disheveled and well kept, easily framing his intense gaze that revealed nothing but the fury rising within him. He glanced at the two officers and then to you, his gaze moving cautiously up and down while you stood completely frozen. He hadn’t said a word, but you were already intimidated by him, your heart beating in your throat.

“Comman-“

In the split second they opened their mouths to speak, he had them both flung against the opposite wall, gasping for air and fighting to be free of his hold. You stepped back suddenly, jolted by his complete disregard for what they had to say.

“You were to leave her here.” He centered in on you, keeping the men on the edge of consciousness without touching them.

You’d heard stories of his powers with the Force, wielding it with ease and bending grown men to his will with the twitch of his fingers. Seeing the demonstration up close was far more terrifying than you thought it would be. He released them instantly, letting them fall to the floor as they choked and fought to fill their lungs. He stepped towards you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“Commander, we thought-“ The officer was cut off immediately with  another twitch of his fingers.

“We wanted to make sure she remained, sir!” The other cried out before he met the same constricted fate.

The Commander released the other officer, “if either of you step foot in my quarters again, you’ll be jettisoned from the ship. Leave.”

They muttered apologies and tripped over one another as they left, both of them coughing and trembling. The door opened and closed quickly, leaving you to sit in the heavy silence between you and the Commander. He flicked his fingers again, this time releasing your wrists from the burdensome cuffs, letting them fall with a thud to the floor.

He remained silent and barely acknowledged your presence as he stalked by to head into another room. The anxiety had moved from your stomach to fully disburse throughout your entire body, which only added to the way you trembled from the cold that had enveloped you. You dared not move from your spot, fearing you’d suffer the same harsh fate as the officers.

His quarters were simple, in similar fashion as the corridors, monochrome but darker. Everything was shiny, clean, not a trace of sand or dirt, in complete contrast to what the last several years of your life had been.

A few moments passed and he returned, bulky, encompassing clothing removed, leaving him in only a t-shirt and pants that stretched to fit his massive, solid legs.

He paced around you with heavy steps, “Tatooine. Servant or scavenger?”

“Both, I suppose. I belonged to a junk trader.” You couldn’t rid yourself of the unease, feeling like you were being stalked like prey.

He stopped in front of you, “do you know who I am?”

You swallowed hard, knowing exactly who he was. There wasn’t a person in the entire galaxy that didn’t know him based off his frightening presence. Everything you’d heard about him was true but didn’t prepare you for the intensity that you felt the second he stepped into the room, how he sucked the air from your lungs with a glare.

“Commander of the First Order. Kylo Ren.”

“Not completely useless then.” His jaw tensed as he regarded you, taking you in.

His stare was unnerving, and it made you miss being invisible on Tatooine, ignored and disregarded easily. Being the center of attention was odd but being the center of his attention was daunting.

Kylo stepped around you to the seemingly untouched couch behind you, “let’s see what they’ve brought me.”

You followed his movements and turned to face him, knotting your fingers together in front of you. He sat back on the couch and outstretched his arms along the back of it, legs spread wide as he seemed to be waiting for you.

You were confused, “um, what do-“

“Was I mistaken before or-?” He snapped harshly, “get on your knees and do what you were brought here to do.”

You took a timid step towards him and lowered yourself to your knees. You dropped your gaze from his, wanting to avoid the intensity of his eyes that seemed to have an endless fury behind them. He let out another exasperated sigh and began unbuttoning his pants.

“A waste of credits.” He said as he pushed his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.

Your heart nearly leapt into your throat at the sight of him, long, thick, already hard in the palm of his hand. He leaned forward and grabbed the back of your head, pulling you forward.

“Get to it.”

Being bought and sold across planets had given you a unique experience, visiting different places, meeting new people, but it left you lacking in some areas. The opportunity for sex had presented itself, but your life had been centered around survival, not pleasure. You chewed your lip as you looked at his length, veins running up the underside of his cock, wrapping around. You knew what he wanted, what was expected of you, but you didn’t even know where to start. With your tongue? Hand? Maybe your whole mouth at once? You decided to just go for it. You leaned forward but before your tongue could make contact with the tip of his cock, he shoved you back.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He said with a harsh scoff, “you have no idea what you’re even doing, do you?”

He stuffed his cock back into his pants and buttoned them, “Imbeciles. What am I supposed to do with you? I gave them specific fucking instructions.” He stood up and stepped around you.

You remained in the floor, feeling like you’d already disappointed him within the few seconds of meeting him. Your eagerness wasn’t to please him, but to keep your life long enough to possibly live it without restraint.

You scrambled to your feet, “wait, I can be useful. I can do other things for you, I can be your servant, clean, cook, repair damage you’ve-“ You stopped before you said more.

“I see the officers have been chatting about me.” He turned back.

You felt like you continued to shove your foot in your mouth the longer you were there, “no- I mean, they mentioned the control panels. And the elevator.”

“Prove your worth and I’ll consider letting you stay.” He said.

You sighed in relief, hoping you could keep yourself from making anymore major mistakes. He seemed to have a short fuse and you really didn’t want to push him to his limit.

Kylo set your ground rules, which included the advice that you be seen and not heard. Your responsibilities were to keep everything in his quarters clean and spotless, which seemed easy enough. He expected you to mend his tattered and torn clothing and repair any damage he caused from here on out. It wasn’t a perfect situation and he seemed almost disgusted with your presence, but you were grateful for his mercy.

He stopped abruptly and turned, “mercy? Is that what you think?”

“Um… no, sir, I just-“ You took a timid step back from him.

He stepped closer, staring at you until your back hit the wall behind you, “I am not merciful.”

He was mere inches from you, raising his hand slightly, a pressure wrapped around your throat without his touch. His jaw tensed as the tightness around your throat grew, the pressure cutting into your airways and forcing you to swallow the bubble of air that was caught in your throat.

Your lungs spasmed, begging for relief as you grabbed at your throat, trying to claw your way to a breath, “p-please… sir-“

When he finally released you, you fell to the ground, knees hitting hard on the polished floor, gasping and choking as air filled your lungs once more. Your eyes watered as you glanced up to see him fixed on you. You started to question how long you’d survive if he could hear your thoughts.

“You belong to me now, right? My property?” He asked.

“Y-Yes, sir.” You coughed as you rubbed your throat, confused.

He grabbed your arm harshly and yanked you up to your feet, “then it’s time I inspect my property. Thoroughly. Strip.”

Your eyes shot up at him, “w-what?”

“I won’t repeat myself. Do as you’re told.” He took a step back from you.

You grabbed the hem of your shirt hesitantly, pausing for a brief moment before lifting it up over your head. You were reluctant to drop it, wanting to cover yourself with it still, but he snatched it from you and threw it aside. The cold air bit at your skin, sending goosebumps across your chest and making your nipples harden.

This wasn’t merciful, it was cruel. He was cruel.

Keeping your eyes fixed on his, you moved on to your pants, fumbling with the button. You simultaneously wanted to draw this out and keep some of your dignity, and to get it over with. It felt humiliating being in front of him this way, his focus completely on you.

“What dignity?” He scoffed.

It was disarming knowing he could root around in your thoughts freely without you knowing. It seemed like a breach of your privacy, not even your thoughts were yours anymore.

“I own you and your thoughts. Finish.” He crossed his arms as he waited.

When you pushed your pants down and stepped out of them his eyes moved hungrily up and down your body, slowly, deliberately as if he was silently criticizing every inch.

“I am.” He said, making you even more self-conscious.

Your entire body shuddered, shivering while he took you in. He brought his hand up and skimmed his fingers along the side of your breast before brushing his thumb over your hardened nipple. A sharp inhale of breath passed your lips as he touched you, the warmth from his fingers working to ease the cold that had set in. His other hand mimicked the first, soft and warm against your skin, which sent a heat pooling between your thighs.

“Not a complete disappointment. I would’ve enjoyed breaking this little body of yours.” He dropped his hands from you with a sigh.

There was a part of you that leaned forward, hoping to earn another brush of his fingers, a slight touch in some way. You shook your head, pushing out the thought of wanting a lingering touch from him, it was ridiculous. There were a plethora of reasons you should want to recoil from him and refuse his touch, but here you were, silently hoping for more. Confusing.

In the days following your arrival you fell into a routine quickly. He stayed away for most of the time, making you wonder if it was because of you or if this was his norm. Either way you preferred it to the opposite. Kylo’s absence was more than enjoyable for you. Your mornings consisted of cleaning and completing whatever chore he set out for you that day, but the afternoons were for you. It was a small glimpse of your freedom, doing as you pleased without command.

He left you with limited access to the various devices at his disposal. The holoscreen for entertainment, codes for the food replicator, and a data pad for research purposes. You requested clothing as well, but he only returned with three options, a short grey dress with pockets, a short grey dress without pockets, and a black one that looked more like a tank top than a dress, but he insisted it was a dress. You half wondered if he was just fucking with you, but you decided not to question him on it.

You decided on the dress with pockets, the grey fabric mimicking that of the First Order uniforms you’d seen, just without the rank or embroidery around the hems. It wasn’t the most unflattering thing you’d worn and it was definitely better than the sand stained rags you came in with.

The data pad he’d left for you held the vast amount of knowledge about the First Order and anything else you would ever want to know. He mainly provided it so you could research First Order tech and electrical repairs, but you took advantage of it. You spent hours scrolling through it, searching the database, learning whatever you could about your new placement. You settled into your role easily with minimal presence on his radar.

The longer you were there the more bits and pieces of him you picked up along the way. He was particular, specific in the way he liked things.

His cold stare and awkward silence made you question every move you made, even the smallest things.

“Redo it. This time actually put effort into it.” He pulled the sheets off his bed and left the room.

Bastard. You thought to yourself.

Suddenly your throat started to constrict, closing in and making you struggle for a breath. You glanced back to see him walking down the hall, his fingers curved slightly by his side.

Another lesson learned, keep insults to yourself without actually thinking them. Which was harder than it sounded.

His moods were based purely on how others reacted to him. He had the body and strength of a full adult, but the emotional tolerance of a child. Of course, not something you’d ever point out to him, not if you wanted to keep living.

It was becoming a habit of gauging his moods based off how he entered the room. If he was silent, he was content. If stormed in with a frustrated sigh, he was annoyed. But if he threw his heavy mask at the wall just as he stepped through the door, then he was furious and it was in your best interest to avoid him.

You flinched when you heard the main door open, signaling his return. You waited on bated breath, listening for the telltale sign of his mood, but it didn’t come, not in the way you’d heard before anyways. You realized you were still seated in his room as you’d taken a break to read through more of the Finalizer’s schematics. You could hear him muttering something but couldn’t make it out as you placed the data pad down and moved towards the door. You hesitated to come out of the room, not wanting to endure any of his anger, but you couldn’t remain there either.

With hesitant steps you tiptoed out of the room, careful not to make too much noise. You kept your gaze set ahead as you passed by the living room, hoping he was somewhere else entirely. A sound pulled you from your path, another person’s voice mixed with his, a woman. You peaked around the corner and froze. His eyes locked with yours as he sat back on the couch, in similar position from your first meeting with him, but he wasn’t alone. A woman was seated next to him, a Sergeant from the rank pinned to her uniform. She was beginning to unbutton her coat when she noticed you. Her eyes flitted to you and then back to him, her mouth opening slightly to question your presence.

“Continue. Just ignore her.” He said, still keeping his gaze on you.

She finished undressing and slid into the floor between his long legs, running her hands up his thighs before unbuttoning his pants. Her hair was dark, almost the same as his, pulled back in a long braid that draped down the curve of her spine. You could have stopped at any time, walked away and went on about your work, but your feet weren’t moving. Mainly because you weren’t telling them to.

She pulled his cock free and leaned forward, flicking her tongue over the tip. A low groan escaped his lips, awakening something within you, something that made you want to earn that sound from him yourself. A smirk ghosted his lips as he looked at you, making you blush immediately at the realization that he’d heard you. You hurried out of the room and back to yours, trying to make your mind blank again as you did.

Sand. Dry sand. Sand. Sand.

You repeated to yourself as you returned to your room, imagining the sand dunes on Tatooine, pushing all thoughts of him and the Sergeant from your mind.

You closed the door behind you and crawled onto your cot, heart pounding in your throat. It took everything you had to silence your thoughts, trying desperately to hold focus on something else, anything else. You squeezed your thighs together, needing some relief from an ache that had settled along with the flush in your cheeks. For a split second you thought about making yourself come to ease the need, but you quickly shoved the thought out, knowing he could probably hear you and was most likely laughing to himself about it.

Every now and then you’d pick up more sounds from them, a barked order from him, telling her what to do and at what pace to do it, or a loud moan or yelp from her. It was frustrating and enticing. You buried your head under your pillow, trying to ignore it until they finished, which was easier said than done. You were in a constant battle of controlling your own thoughts and trying to ignore them.

Time ticked by and it felt like they’d been going at it for hours. At some point you fell asleep, exhausted from the day and the events that had transpired, but your mind continued to race. Your dreams were chaotic, fleeting from one thing to the next, leaving you tossing and turning in your sleep.

Beg for your master, Pet. Kylo stood before you, hands clasped behind his back as you stared up at him, pink cheeks and drool dripping down your chin.

The sound of your door opening abruptly pulled you from your sleep instantly. You sat up, barely registering where you were for a second as you took a moment to regain full consciousness. You squinted your eyes, blinded by the light from the hallway until you adjusted. The silhouette of Kylo came into focus, pants barely hanging off his perfect hips, dips and dimples in the right places, leaving you distracted.

“Master? Pet? Even in your sleep you’re insufferably loud. Stop.” He pulled you from your preoccupied thoughts.

You swallowed hard, and looked up at him, realizing it wasn’t only your thoughts he could hone in on, “I’m sorry, sir, I’ll try to um… dream quieter.”

“Do or don’t sleep.” He closed your door and left.

You sighed and laid back down, utterly confused by your dream and why your mind seemed to be completely enamored by someone who appeared to despise your existence. Not to mention the way your body was responding to him, intensely attracted to him, an ache between your thighs followed by soaked panties that left you feeling helpless, especially with him around.

You knew Kylo was dangerous, a black hole that would swallow you up if you got too close, but you were curious and not smart enough to keep your distance. During the time where he was gone, you let your thoughts run wild, untamed, knowing he couldn’t hear you all the time. Or assuming he couldn’t and hoping he wouldn’t bring it up later.

Your fantasies always returned to your dream; on your knees, staring up at him, and calling him Master. She called him that, the Sergeant, but he didn’t call her his pet, nor any other term besides the normal derogatory slut and whore. She didn’t seem to mind it and from what it sounded like, she actually enjoyed his harshness. A twinge of jealousy began to settle within you, hoping he wouldn’t bring her back again. You began to wonder if you’d ever enjoy being called those names, imagining him saying it to you while he touched you in the most perfect ways. But it wasn’t like he would, he wanted nothing to do with you since you were so inexperienced.

The loud thud of his helmet signaled his return once more, making you jolt and hurry to finish your work for the day. You scurried out of the bathroom after replacing the linens, keeping your gaze to the floor to avoid eye contact and giving away any lingering thoughts.

“Stop.” He snapped at you as you walked by him.

You halted in place, refusing to look back, “sir?”

“Look at me.” He demanded with a snap of his fingers.

You turned around slowly and lifted your gaze to meet his, chewing on your lip nervously. He disarmed you with his glowering gaze fixed directly on you, which you assumed was his aim. He had to know how he affected you.

“Five nights. For five nights I’ve had to listen to your lust filled dreams and the whining whimpers that poured from that mouth. For five nights I’ve gone without decent sleep.” He tensed his jaw as he stared down at you.

“I’m sorry, sir. I-I really don’t mean to- I can sleep during the day when you’re not here if that would help?”

“What would help is if you weren’t so unbelievably pathetic.” His tone was short, and you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

You noticed the darkness around his eyes, knowing he wasn’t lying about the sleeplessness. Which would also explain the even worse mood he’d been in over the last few days. You immediately stopped thinking when he narrowed his eyes at you. Your mind had always been your escape and now it wasn’t safe.

“Sorry.” You said meagerly.

“You want me to fuck you.” He said simply.

Blood immediately rushed to your cheeks, “sir, I- No, I-It’s just a dream.“ You shook your head, stumbling over words to try and deny it while your mind screamed ‘yes’.

“All you have to do is ask.” He crossed his arms, biceps bulging more from beneath his t-shirt, doing nothing to quell the heat rising within you.

“Ask?” You shifted in place, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed than you had before.

Kylo moved around behind you, his large hand curling around your throat as he pulled you back against his broad chest, muscles rippling and tensing against your back. It was the first time he’d actually touched you since he ‘inspected’ you, more than shoving you away or yanking you around by your arm. Your breath hitched in your throat the second he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Just ask, but know that I won’t be gentle with you, pet.” His fingers flexed at the base of your throat.

It felt like your mind had shut down for a moment, stuttering and running through all possibilities as you considered his offer. He was pressed against you, giving you the key to what your dreams had been fixated on, what your mind hadn’t been able to forget.

“Ask.” He said a little more roughly, squeezing your throat with his large hand.

His breath was hot against your ear, each syllable only adding to the warmth that seeped between your thighs and made you desperate to push back against him.

“Sir, I-“ You had no idea how to even ask for it.

“You’ll beg me soon enough, when you’re truly desperate. When your thighs are trembling for my touch and your cunt aches for my cock, more than it does now. You’ll ask me to show you how good it can feel. You’ll ask me to use you.” He whispered into your ear, releasing you suddenly and stepping away.

His touch was dizzying, pulling you in and simultaneously shoving you away. He made you crave him, addicted without so much as the brush of a fingertip. Your mind whirled with questions, why he kept you, why continue to taunt and tease you only to mock you for it later. It was all frustrating.

Before you could convince yourself it was a bad idea, the word came out with a harsh sigh, "why?"

The muscles in his back tensed just before he turned around, "why what?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, chastising yourself already, "why um... why do you keep playing with me?"

"I'm merely entertaining myself at your pathetic expense. I thought I was clear about that?"

"It's not fair. If you're going to kill me then do it, if you're going to fuck me then do it. I can't keep waiting for one or the other." Where this sudden confidence came from, you had no idea, but if these were your last seconds of life then you were going to take full advantage of them.

"You act as though those are my only options." He raised his hand, encircling your throat with the Force once more.

"I could kill you, easily, but I've spent credits on you and I'd like to get my money's worth." He stalked closer.

You remained still, fighting the urge to grab at your throat or beg for air until you were certain you were about to pass out. You refused to give him that satisfaction.

"And I could fuck you, I could use your little body until it gave out, bruised and marked, filled with cum. But what would be the fun in giving you exactly what your little cunt craves, hm?" With the slight twitch of his fingers he lifted your chin, bringing your gaze up to meet his while the Force tightened around your throat.

"No, no, I think I'll continue toying with you for however long I want. And when you get down on your knees and beg so pitifully for me to end it, I'll toy with you some more." His tone was thick with condescension.

"P-Please..." you choked, the word escaping out of desperation.

His hand grazed your cheek, "but to see those lips wrapped around my cock, tears staining these cheeks. That's an enticing image."

Your face began to turn red, the lack of oxygen making your head swim and your lungs spasmed for a breath. He released you suddenly and your body fell limp against the wall as you gasped for air. Kylo held no concern for you as he returned to his room, ignoring your disheveled state and any harsh words that floated through your mind. Which you were grateful for.

That night you stayed awake. You sat up on your cot and refused to go to sleep. You kept your thoughts on anything and everything you could, hoping he’d sleep better that night and you’d return to being off of his radar. As much as you dreamt about him and craved his touch, you were frightened, scared of the things he would do, the things he would show you. He hadn’t even done anything to you yet and you were already falling into some sense of depravity with him, sinking further each day.

The following week you were blissfully entranced in your duties. Kylo had left you alone for the most part, giving you some reprise from his torture. You were finishing up with changing his sheets when he stormed in, tossing his helmet against the wall you’d just pulled the dent out of the day before. You hurried to finish straightening the blankets and make yourself scarce. You listened for another voice but heard nothing this time. On bad days he required the help of another person, someone he could use to release his anger into, what your role was supposed to be. You tiptoed out of the room on light feet and peered around to see him seething, chest rising and falling quickly as he sat on the couch.

“Sir? Are you alright?” You stepped out from behind the doorway, your feet and mouth moving on their own.

“Out.” He said with a huff of breath.

You continued until you were standing before him, “is there anything I can do to help?”

“The thing I need right now is a little out of your scope. Leave. Now.” He all but shouted, stern eyes glaring at you.

It would have been smart to leave, retreat to your room and let him calm down on his own eventually, but intelligence seemed to abandon you in that moment. You dropped to your knees in front of him and slotted yourself between his legs, just as the mysterious Sergeant had before. Which made you question where she was and why he hadn’t brought her back with him.

“What are you doing?” He stared down at you.

"Use me.” Your voice was small.

"Go. You don't know what you're asking." He disregarded you, but you weren't giving up.

"You said you needed-"

"I know what I said. What I didn't say is that I want some sniveling little virgin begging for something she knows nothing about." He snapped.

"If you'd just tell me what to do, I could-"

"You think I want to hold your hand through sucking my cock? Or fuck you gently because it's your first time having a cock in your pussy? No. What I need is for you to shut up and leave.”

"Regardless of what you think, I'm not going to break. I've endured more than you know, or care to know for that matter." You shot back, your own anger now rising.

"A few backhands to the face and now you're an expert on getting fucked?" He said, revealing that he had already dug into your memories.

"I can handle whatever you throw at me. Maybe you're just scared, worried you'll-"

His large hand gripped your jaw roughly, "is this what you want? I've heard your little whimpers in the night, mewling for your Master to touch you. You keep begging for this and pushing me, are you sure you’re ready for what comes next?"

His fingers dug painfully into your face, his chestnut eyes burning with rage and fury.

"You want to be used? Fine." He released your face and snatched your arm, yanking you up to your feet in front of him.

“You think you know what I need, go ahead. Show me what you know.” He sat back on the couch.

With fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs, you lifted the hem of your dress and pulled it over your head before letting it fall to the ground at your feet. Fear had long since disappeared, only leaving pure adrenaline and anxiety to fight in the pit of your stomach as you dropped to your knees between his legs.

He made no move to assist you or guide you, waiting seemingly patiently on your timid movements, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he lost that patience. Trembling hands slid up his thighs, reaching for the zipper on his pants and then the button. Your fingers felt like jelly, moving on their own because your brain had glitched out as you took on this task.

Just as you wrapped your hand around his cock and pulled it out, he leaned forward and grabbed you by the back of your hair as he stood up.

“Come, pet.” He growled as he jerked you along towards the wall just beside the couch.

He shoved you back against the wall, keeping you forced down on your knees while you looked up at him.

“Mouth open.” He ordered as his hand stroked along his length.

You opened your mouth, trying to gauge just how much to open to fit him, but you quickly realized you had no choice in the matter as he pushed you back against the wall and shoved his cock into your mouth. You gagged instantly but he remained still in your mouth.

“Breathe through your nose.” He sighed with his fist entangled in your hair.

You tried to move back to get a little relief, but the wall stopped you from moving too far. You shifted on your knees and leaned forward.

“Teeth.” He inhaled sharply.

You opened your mouth more and adjusted to him, trying to keep your teeth out of the equation. He barely gave you a split second before he pulled your head closer, forcing his cock further into your mouth. He placed one hand on the wall above you as he braced himself and moved your head the way he wanted with his hand fisted in your hair.

Your tongue slid along the underside of his cock as he moved it in and out of your mouth. You glanced up at him, noticing the way his hair fell around his face, strands swaying slightly with each movement. You felt your own need building as he used your mouth and the second the broken groan left his lips, you were soaked. Kylo’s head fell back as he forced your mouth down around him more, the patch of

black hair tickling your nose. Your eyes watered as his cock hit the back of your throat, making you gag, but he didn’t stop. You placed your palms on his thighs, desperately needing to take a full breath as he held your head in place. He finally loosened his grip and let you pull back for a moment, sucking in a deep breath as a string of drool dripped from your mouth.

Kylo looked down at you, “relax your jaw or you’ll strain it.”

You nodded and opened your mouth, waiting for him to use you more. He pushed your head back against the wall and stepped closer before sliding his cock back into your mouth. His hand tightened around your hair as he shoved his cock to the back of your throat suddenly, leaving you gagging again. This time he fucked your mouth a little rougher, using it as just a hole to stuff his cock into, but you didn’t mind it.

His hips snapped harshly against you, driving his cock to the back of your throat with force. Your eyes were watering and tears streamed down your cheeks from his persistence with the tip of his cock hitting your gag reflex. You didn’t know if it was possible for him to bruise your throat, but you were certain that’s what he was aiming for. Short, breathy grunts escaped his lips, building the heat that had pooled between your thighs. Each passing minute that he used you, you felt yourself leaning over the edge further, trying not to leap into the black hole but it was so enticing.

[sachas]

PRIVATE SUITE, THE SAVOY HOTEL / THE THIRTEENTH OF MARCH / @sxint​

sacha, 2:13 am: hey, u up?

Someone like Sacha doesn’t really have regrets — he knows a missed opportunity when he sees it, though. Ten years ago in Paris they are dumb and directionless, flitting around clubs and flirting with anyone who looked their way. Ten years ago, they aren’t playing the long game, instead relishing in what freedom feels like, far away from their father for the first time in their life. Ten years ago, he meets Saint, beautiful and attentive, and a whirlwind romance follows, heady, intoxicated, and sweaty. Perhaps most importantly, they are unlabeled, uncommitted. Younger and naive in his inexperience, Saint falls head over heels with someone who keeps him at a confusing arms distance, Sacha never letting him name what grows between them love and ending it abruptly when he tries to confess the feeling instead, feeling more like walls are closing in on them. Years later, in one of the few times Saint comes running back to something familiar ( albeit cold and detached ), in inconvenient timing, he confesses the truth of who he really is, what’ll he’ll become: he is Saint Warden, heir to a weapons empire, set to inherit the leadership of a gang that runs London streets, new money and high class and providing the kind of power Sacha so craves. Sacha could fucking kick himself for not entertaining Saint in the past, for not at least pretending it was love in order to reap the benefits. Maybe it could have even been love, if only Sacha tried — maybe by now he’d be War’s Dominion, married to Saint and cooing in the ear of Gabrielle Warden.

Rivalry is a symptom of being a Warden, and Sacha hears all about the strife of forced competition between Saint and his siblings. The youngest of the three, the favourite and therefore coddled by Gabrielle, he is the underdog in his succession, seemingly unmatched against ever-responsible Remus and sharply intelligent Juno. News of betrayal by beloved eldest brother and subsequent demotion to Virtue has Sacha scheming ever since Saint comes running to their arms last May, looking for a distraction all over again while he handles all the hell in his life. Who knows if he’ll ever truly get the chance to rise back up the ranks in that fucking rat race amongst brother and sister; Sacha begins daydreaming about a day where he manages to pull Saint back into his world, opening his eyes to Uriel, the Harbinger of Death. Wouldn’t it be nice, Sainty, if you were a Seraphim again?

sacha, 2:17 am: let me be your distraction

sacha, 2:18 am: [ current location ]

sacha, 2:18 am: suite 2112 x

With Death’s skull on his shoulder, he’s in too deep to leave, though the offer of power flows both ways. It would make Sacha look fucking good if Saint betrayed his family, jumped ship and emblazoned his skin with a skull of his own, committing himself to the cause. He’d be good company too, Sacha supposes, despite all the weird history between them, despite all the messy details that would have to be worked out — there is companionship there. Sat in plush chair inside the suite, they wait, planning cautious phrases and approach for Saint, who has to be played very carefully if he’s going to be played at all. The quiet knock on the door has Sacha smirking, satisfied in knowing that despite all of Saint’s disinterest the last time they’d met, after all these years, they still have their hold over him. 

“Hi Sainty,” Sacha muses in greeting as he opens the door, the name warm like liquor on his tongue. “Just couldn’t stay away, could you?” Stepping to the side, they usher Saint into the suite, quiet and private, room centered by a king sized bed. “It’s okay, you can admit you’ve been thinking about me.”

[aspiringharlot]

Redolence

You’ve got a pretty lame quirk, but it manages to catch someone’s attention.

Word Count: 5.8k

Okay, second attempt at this whole y/n fanfic idea…I also tried formatting the this beginning bit,  hope you’re still bearing with me!

Trigger warnings: Stalking behavior, noncon/ noncon turned to consent, public sex, name calling (let me know if I forgot something)

Tagged for: @palbabor-writes, @tod0oki, @kugutsuu

p.s. @cupcake-rogue, I know that this isn’t explicitly yandere/incel focused but I figured I’d direct your attention anyways!

For Palbabor, a sprinkle of Hawks!

 Was Hawks the kind of guy to play it fast and loose? No, not even close. Sure, he acted out the charismatic, playboy persona crafted by his PR team, but a careless man he was not. Hawks had self-control, and a sense of self discipline, he’d never just make brash decisions capable of jeopardizing his standing as a hero.

And yet he’d entangled himself in this situation.

It all started when he caught a whiff of you.

Being a Hawk-man had many upsides. Hawks had phenomenal vision, unmatched speed and reflexes, and even telepathic control over his wings, though, that last ability may not be as Hawk related as the others. Still, despite the multitude of benefits, Hawks, like many birds, had a weak olfactory sense.

He’d lived his whole life like that, never seeing the downside to this facet of his life. How could he? Can’t miss what you never had, right?

And then, on a sweltering day approximately two months ago, he smelt a distinct scent.

He had no reference to judge the scent. How could he explain it? It was… good?  

That was your quirk. You’d always lamented the lameness of your quirk, an emitter type known as “Redolence”. You could inspire interest and appreciation in others through your pheromones, in most cases only minutely affecting another’s perception of you. This had helped you out a few times. Before job interviews or dates, you’d typically avoid wearing perfume or using scented soaps, making you more likely to receive a call back, but that was really all it could do.

 You’d never put much thought towards how those with a weak sense of smell would perceive it. Surely, they’d be unable to smell your pheromones and would go on with their day, right?

Wrong.

The scent of your pheromones penetrated all noses, regardless of their capabilities.

It had been months since that fateful patrol in which Hawks had smelt a scrunchie you’d lost on the sidewalk. The smell at first caught him off guard. It wasn’t often that he smelt something, let alone all the way up in the air and that made him curious. He dove lower to the ground to see what that smell could possibly be. Perched at the top of a building he scanned the street side with his trained eyes.

He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. An average crowd of people milling on with their day, seemingly oblivious to the mouthwatering aroma encompassing the neighborhood.

Really, Hawks should’ve just went back to his patrol. Nothing terribly strange was happening, he just smelt something.

‘Get back to work, Hawks.’ He thought to himself. ‘wasting time now means you’ll get your route done later and that means less personal time when it’s finally over with.’

The hero stood, readying himself to soar back in the air.

Instead he dove down.

The action wasn’t especially discreet, and several citizens flocked to Hawks, asking for pictures or autographs. He dealt with them as he would any other fan, patiently but not allowing himself to be pushed around. Eventually, as they were leaving him to himself, the blond reached out and asked a pair of friends if they’d smelt the pleasant aroma floating through the area.

They looked to each other confused before the shorter of the pair gained a spark of recognition in her eyes.

“Oh, do you mean that super sweet smell? It was a little stronger back the way we came but it wasn’t all that unusual.”

“Hm.” Hawks grunted gruffly, before seeing the taken aback faces of the pair. Misstep, that grunt was too aggressive, mask it with a more carefree response.

“Oh uh, sorry girls, I suspect there’s an illegal quirk user right in the area.” He pushed out a hardy, fake chuckle. “Not that’s anything a pair of beautiful young girls like yourself needs to worry about.”

They began to blush and stammer, allowing Hawks the perfect opportunity to exit the conversation and head off towards the area the short girl referenced. What an easy distraction a simple complement could make.

As he moved on, he smelled that scent becoming stronger and more powerful. His heart was beating, and butterflies began to form in his stomach. What was this smell? And why was he so desperate to find the source of it?

Eventually the scent began to fade slightly. Shit, he must’ve walked right past it. A game of hot and cold began, Hawks walking in circles like an idiot to track down the source of the smell. And then he found it.

A scrunchie, pink and velvety with prominent ruffles.

That was all, just a hair tie. Mystery solved, pack it up, time to move on.

Hawks was pathetic, feeling like a freak, as in one fluid motion he bent at the waist to collect the scrunchie. He held it to close to his face, mouthwatering as something stirred inside him. The scent emitting from the hair-tie was what he’d always thought cherry pie would smell like. Was this sugar? If it was, he had no idea how bakers managed their day to day lives, the scent alone making him feel increasingly excited.

Was he really going to do this? Snatch a hair tie from the sidewalk grate and keep it like a desperate weirdo?

The scrunchie was tucked into one of the many pockets lining the inside of Hawks’ coat.

From that day on, huffing that hair tie became a part of Hawks’ routine. After a long day he’d come home to shower and tend to his wings before reveling in the scent. It came to a point where he’d please himself, in one hand holding the scrunchie to his face as the other stroked his cock. He didn’t know how, but he had fallen in love with a scent.

Tragically, overtime, the smell faded like autumn leaves losing their crunch. He was going to have to stop relying on the scrunchie.

No, he was addicted to this smell, he couldn’t just let it fade out from his life. He thought back to the day he found it. It was left behind in public, maybe there were cameras which had captured the owner of this hair tie. Cameras that captured you.

Being a top pro hero gave Hawks much leeway- contacting the owners of nearby businesses and asking for copies of their security footage inspired no suspicion.  Within a day he had several angles of perspective on the drop sight. He stuck an intern at his agency with the responsibility of reviewing the footage to detect who had dropped the footage.

Five hours later, Hawks saw you for the first time.

His heart fluttered. He saw a beautiful, no- a gorgeous girl resign herself to the side of the path as she dug through a small bag, digging for something.  In frustration she pulls the bag open wider and ruffles more intensely until finally she pulls out a phone. In the roughness, the scrunchie he had held so close for two months now, slipped out of her purse. She hadn’t noticed, instead checking her phone only to noticeably sigh in relief as a car approached her. She entered the car and it drove away.

Finally, Hawks could put a face to a smell. Now he just had to find you.

That poor intern began to reevaluate his position as the agency when Hawks told him to track you down- Hawks wanted an entire file, complete with a name, date of birth, address, summative history. The whole works.

It took several days, but the intern got all the information and organized it in a neat manilla folder, giving it to Hawks as soon as it was completed.

When Hawks received the folder, he could hardly contain his excitement. This was it, using this file he could track down the smell and subsequently the person that he’d been obsessing over for the past two months. After his intern left, he raced to his room, digging the scrunchie from the plastic baggie it was kept in to sniff at it as he read your file. He tore it open right after pulling his pants down to his ankles. He immediately began palming at his erection, softly exhaling as he began to read over your file.

--------

 (Photograph of you)

(clipped behind, are nudes that were obtained from your phone)

-------

Hawks stopped himself immediately to look slack jawed at the nude photographs of you, squeezing himself around the base of his cock to remind him of restraint. He laid the photo out next to the file to reference as he massaged his cock.

---------

Name: (y/n) (l/n)

Date of Birth: (y/D.O.B.)

Gender: Female

Sex: Female

Relationship Status: Single, no romantic partners or interests.

Sexuality: Unclear

Quirk: Redolence (emitter) - produces mood altering hormones capable of influencing perceptions of others. Low calculated threat as a combatant. Possible use in support position.

­­­­­­­------------------

‘Well,’ thought Hawks. ‘That certainly explains how I’ve gotten into this situation.’ He pumped his cock slowly, savoring the information he was learning.

------------------

Legal status: Immigrated Citizen – all paperwork has been processed and completed as of 12/14/20XX

Criminal History: Nonexistent

Address: (Nearby address)

-----------------

‘She’s been that close this whole time?’  Hawks couldn’t help but picture you, walking down his street, your quirk turning heads as people wondered why they wanted you so badly. The inadequacy those strangers would feel when they saw Hawks swoop down to lift you off the street and into the air. Hawks felt even more turned on.

-----------------

 Summary: (L/n) works at (place of employment) as (job position). Current income is ($$) per year. Has scarcely active social media profile. Not a public figure. Little contact with friends and family (out of country, no files available to draw information from). No roommates. No house pets. I.P. tracking shows recent queries centered around, heat death of the universe, 20th century American criminal Ed Gein, plane tickets to (your state), and pornographic material containing Consenting Non-Consent (CNC), public sex, indecent exposure, chikan and degradation.

-----------------

‘Oh boy,’ Hawks felt his cock twitch. He couldn’t believe that you’d be such a naughty little slut. He took a deep inhalation, melting at the fading scent. Right now, all he had was this scrunchie, but soon he’d have you. The reassurance made him being to pump his cock faster, the member throbbing in his calloused hands.

-----------------

Medical history shows she is prone to cavities, complications have arisen from improper healing of a torn muscle. Currently attending physical therapy to aid recovery. P.T. backed by health insurance.

Schedule:

Sunday- Grocery shops at approximately 11:20. Returns home to clean and watch television. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Monday- Attends work from 8:00 to 17:00. Purchases takeout on way home. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Tuesday- Attends work from 8:00 to 17:00. Returns home. Exits at 20:00, goes to building laundry office. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Wednesday- Attends physical therapy from 10:00 to 11:00. Attends work from 12:00 to 20:00. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Thursday- Attends work from 8:00 to 17:00. Returns home. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Friday- Goes to (specific area) public park at approximately 12:00. Remains for approximately two hours. Returns home and orders take-out. No notable pattern excluding these events.

Saturday- No notable pattern detected.

----------------

Hawks was more than pleased with the information that had been gathered on you. And the schedule, that gave him more than enough time to plan out your first meeting. He could see it now, this Friday he’ll swoop through the park and casually run into you.

“Oh, hey there pretty lady, its funny running into you here, I think I saw you a few months ago…” You would start blushing and stammering right away, you’d feel so honored that the Pro Hero Hawks had remembered you, even if you hadn’t technically met.

From there he’d pull out the scrunchie that you lost and play it off like he’d seen you drop it recently. He’d say something like, “Anyway- I saw you drop this a few minutes ago and I thought I’d catch up and return it to you.” He’d hold it out to you and get a little closer than would be strictly necessary. You’d look into his eyes and Hawks could tell you how beautiful you are. He’d offer you out to coffee, he knows you have nothing planned afterwards so there’s no way you’ll say no.

By the time you finished your coffee you’d be in love with Hawks, equally infatuated with him as he was you. You’d shyly ask if he was busy and if maybe he wouldn’t mind walking you home… As soon as you got there, you’d offer yourself to him, stripping off your clothes to reveal your sensual breasts. He’d eagerly be led to the bedroom and immediately work himself down to your core, hoping for a chance to smell your sex. He’d lap at your folds, savoring the taste as he’d dip is tongue past the ring of muscle protecting your hole.

You’d mewl beneath him or pant his name and just beg him to fuck you with his cock. The sounds you’d make underneath him, downright sinful. You’d cum on his cock and flood the room with the smell of your pheromones, making him cum right inside you before he’d collapse on top of you to breath in your scent at the source.

In reality, Hawks was pumping his cock fast, occasionally twisting is hand to change up the rhythm, getting closer and closer as he dropped the scrunchie to instead hold the nude photograph. As he imagined the way you’d beg for his cock he came, hard, shooting white ribbons of cum right onto the picture of you.

He smiled.

Yes, Hawks had this whole thing planned perfectly. This encounter was going to end spectacularly.

When Friday came, Hawks came to the park an hour early, keeping an eye out for you just incase you’d decided to come early. The pro hero was circling the circumference of the park, his eyes darting from person to person until finally he saw you. Or, more accurately, smelled you.

You were entering the park from the west end, in your arms a yoga mat and a large opaque water bottle. On your body was a pants tightening outfit- black high-rise spandex cupping your legs and ass with a white cropped t-shirt straining against your tits. The little shirt was tied into a little knot in the front, the shin white fabric doing nothing to hide your black sports bra, enticing glances from men and women alike. Your hair was another matter of interest for Hawks, the soft strands clipped out of your eyes, only allowing the barest element to frame your face.  Most importantly, you smelled great, Hawks could tell from all the way up in the air. The smell was not the same as the smell of your scrunchie- that one had been more, flirty somehow. Today all that Hawks could smell was that underlying scent that screamed ‘you’. Hawks didn’t mind though, he’d work your quirk’s full potential out of you when the time came.

The way he was getting excited, Hawks didn’t think he could wait any longer, he had to go down and make contact.

He managed to hold off another 7 minutes, allowing you to position yourself in a secluded area of the park, ideal for yoga and meditation. At this point he’d grounded himself to be more discreet and was casually approaching you, not that you noticed with your back to him and eyes closed.

For a tense moment, Hawks stood silently in front of you, breathing quiet. His heart pounded, ba-dum, ba-dum.

“Hey there.” You jumped in surprise, eyes shooting open as you gasped out an awkward sort of “guUh!” noise.

“Whoops!” Hawks chuckled merrily. “Didn’t mean to spook ya there.” When you looked at him, it took you a moment to process that there was a pro-hero in front of you. As you looked up at him, you took notice of his stance. He was calm, standing languidly and unbothered. He must have just felt like acknowledging you and now that he had, he’d probably move on with his day.

“Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?” you blanched. Did he know you?

“ah, no, uh… you must be thinking of someone else.”

“No, No, I wouldn’t forget a pretty face like yours.” He winked confidently. ‘What?’ you thought.

“What?” you said.

“Where was it… Oh!” He snapped, pointing at you. “On the sidewalk outside (business), about two month’s back, yeah, that’s it! (y/n)! That’s your name!”

You furrowed your brow trying to remember what the hell he was talking about. Sure, you’d gone through that area several times in the past three months, you had to in order to get to your physical therapy appointment, but you couldn’t recall seeing Hawks there. You’d never seen the guy in person to begin with!

“Uh, yeah maybe…” Hawks smirked at you.

“Oh, it’s fine if you don’t remember,” his face switched from playful to informative. “there was that villain with the memory erasing quirk, he probably hit you.” You supposed that made sense. Perhaps you did have a conversation with Hawks at some point, that’d explain why he knew your name.

“So-ahem,” you cleared your throat. “what’d we talk about?”

“Well, I saw you drop a few dollars and a hair tie from your purse and decided to do the heroic thing and return them to you” Hawks became carefree again. “We were chatting, and this little stand offered me some chicken kebabs- I asked if you could have some too and we just chatted until that villain came through. If I remember correctly, we were talking about exchanging numbers.”

You widened your eyes. Not only had you been approached by Hawks in the past, but you’d been about to get his number? You weren’t even a huge fan of hero’s, how had that happened?

“Wow, uh, I don’t know what to say.” You giggled.

“You know, I’m free at the moment, mind if I sit and enjoy the park with you?” Without waiting on a response Hawks plopped himself down near you, his great, red wings flexing for a moment before relaxing.

“Oh, uhm, sure…” Now you weren’t sure what to do. You were clearly here to do yoga, but would it be rude to keep doing it while someone was with you?

As if he read your mind, Hawks opened his mouth again, saying, “Don’t mind me, you can go on with your yoga.”

Now it’d be rude if you didn’t continue. You moved into a high lunge pose, stretching your thigh muscles before groaning just a little. Your sore muscle still experiencing some pain.

“Oh, was that the leg you were going to physical therapy for?” he asked innocently. You looked over to see him sprawled on the grass watching you.

“Yeah… I told you I was going to physical therapy?” Something about the way he said that ground your gears. Come to think of it, you only went through that way as you where heading to your appointment. Why would you stop and chat with Hawks beforehand and risk being late?

And, who would be serving chicken kebabs at 9:30 in the morning?

Something was off.

“Oh yeah!” Hawks brought you from your thoughts. “You were talking about how you couldn’t hang out long, you had your appointment to get to. Heck, you left in such a hurry I forgot to hand that hair tie back to you… hmmm… I wonder if…” Hawks began shrugging his coat off before rummaging through the pockets.

So, it seemed possible that you may of ran into Hawks at some point, but he must have been lying about the kebab thing… or maybe he was exaggerating to justify his interest.

“I knew it!” He pulled a pink scrunchie from one of his pockets and sure enough you did recognize it. It certainly was yours.

“Your scrunchie, m’lady.” He scooted closer to you and offered it back.

“Thanks…” you accepted it, wrapping the tie around your wrist twice. You noticed that some of the material seemed worn and stretched, like it had been handled a lot. “I’m surprised you kept it this long.”

“Me too,” Hawks laughed. “To be honest, I forgot all about it till just now.” His face was lit with a cheery smile. He held the smiled uncomfortably long and you weren’t so sure he was telling the truth.

Similarly, you were holding your yoga position too long. When you went to shift your position you grunted, your butt hitting the ground as you were destabilized.

You let out a high pitched, “Shit…” as you felt pain envelope your thigh.

“Oh, fuck, are you okay?” Hawks asked, sitting up and moving even closer to you. It was kind of weird how he kept scooting closer. Brief conversation or not, you were still strangers.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you assured. “This happens sometimes, I just have to rub the area a bit, it’s just a pain doing it myself-“

“I could do it.” Hawks eyes kept moving from your inner thigh to your face and back again.

“heh, uh, no thanks…” you tried to laugh it off.

“No really, let me at it. You’ll feel much better.”

“Uh, thanks for the offer but, it’s not that bad.”

Okay, that was weird too. That was really weird. People don’t just offer to… do that, nor do they insist, and he seemed completely serious.

You were starting to feel not so safe around Hawks. Several things weren’t adding up. A villain with a quirk that could alter a person’s memory… When would you even be hit with that quirk? You did make it to your appointment- Hawks said so himself, so at what point would you get hit with a quirk like that?

The two of you sat it tense silence, not that Hawks acknowledged it. At the moment, he was just happy to be close to your scent. It would’ve been ideal if you’d let him in between your legs to massage your sore muscle but, could he really complain right now? No, even if this was awkward, he could see this working out for him.

“So, Hawks uh, how did I get hit with a memory loss quirk?” you asked.

“I don’t know that one, I just figured you had since you didn’t remember me and there was a villain with that quirk in the area, you must have been hit.” He seemed nonchalant and by all means, trustworthy; he was a hero for crying out loud!

But you couldn’t shake the gut feeling that something was wrong. Hawks would look at you, smiling charismatically, but you couldn’t help but feel like a chicken trapped in a fox’s den.

You’d really rather be going.

“Well, um…” you awkwardly start. “I think I’m going to head out…”

Hawks tilted his head as he looked at you. “What? Are you kidding? You’ve only been here for 20 minutes…Oh, don’t tell me that your one of those people who only does yoga in the park to say that they did yoga in the park.” His inflection. Were you imagining the bite you heard in his tone?

“O- oh, no, it’s just ah… I’m not feeling well…” You started to gather your stuff together, rolling up your mat before starting to stand. Before you fully straightened yourself out you started to sink back down, your leg muscle throbbing. You yelped and Hawks caught you, lowering you back down.

“’Not that bad’, huh?” Hawks chucked and he started to lightly push you back. You resisted, anxiously blabbering, “No, Hawks, I’ll be fine- I think I’ll feel better once I’m back home.”

You couldn’t stop him from pinning you down. Hawks straddled your good leg, holding the knee of your bad so you couldn’t close your legs. Humiliatingly, a single feather flew to rest on your forehead, subtly preventing you from lifting your upper body.

With his free hand, Hawks tenderly explored your inner thigh first only rubbing you through your spandex with the pads of his fingertips.

Alarms were ringing in your head, red alert, red alert, stranger pinning you down to creep on your thighs

“Hawks please-“ you tried to start.

“If you’d just let me finish this, you’d be out before you even realize I touched you.”

You tried being quiet, maybe submission would aid you.

Hawks got rougher with his caresses, making you whimper underneath him. Frustratingly, the position he’d pinned you in was… kind of erotic. There was this handsome man, holding you down, forcing your legs open and subsequently exposing your core. Your brain was recognizing the pattern, remembering all the porn you watched, the erotica you read. Your pussy started getting wet.  You hoped to God that your quirk wouldn’t activate- it’d only make Hawks more aggressive.

You didn’t realize the half of it.

Because Hawks could smell your pheromones, inviting him to continue, making his head feel dizzy with excitement. His mouth watered and he began to lower closer and closer to your legs. Closer to your pussy.

“Oh (y/n),” he crooned. “Your leggings are getting in the way, I hope you don’t mind if I just-“ a feather detached itself from his wing, sharpening and dragging across your pantleg. A slit was torn in the fabric, exposing your leg to him.

“Hawks- please stop!”

He didn’t stop. Instead you felt his hands wander to the slit to physically rip a bigger hole, making the leggings a mere scrap of spandex. The action revealed your clothed cunt and the increased intensity of your pheromones drove Hawks wild, making him as feral as an opossum. He gave up the pretense of massaging your sore muscles and cupped your pussy with his palm, feeling your heat and wetness through your panties.

For a moment he just held it there before taking the hand to his nose and inhaling deeply.

And then you understood.

The scrunchie wrapped around your wrist, you last wore the thing on a hookup. Your pheromones must have gotten into the fibers of the fabric. If you lost it… and Hawks found it…No wonder Hawks had held on to it for so long… the fucker developed an obsession with the scent of your pheromones.

And then, he sees you, in public- of course he’d try to initiate something with you… Shit.

You’re taken back to the reality of your situation when you feel the scrape of a feather against your shirt. That- That fucker was cutting open your shirt! How the fuck were you going to get home in a bra and panties… soaked panties at that.

Rip Rip

Okay, scratch that, now all your clothes were shredded and unwearable.

Hawks finally changed positions, swinging around to hold you in a 69 position. The action kept you pinned down even when you jumped in surprise at the sensation of Hawks dragging his tongue over your pussy lips. He didn’t hesitate to dive in, eating your pussy like a man starved of nutrients for 12 to 13 days.

You hated to admit it… but it felt fantastic. The feeling of his stubble dragging against your skin while he alternated between licking and sucking your clit was making your pussy gush. The taboo of it all as well. Fuck, this shit was all your kinks rolled into one.

You wanted to hate what was happening. Hawks, he was overpowering you- making you feel small and weak. This was wrong…

Fuck it, you were horny.

To Hawks’ surprise you started palming at his erection, trying to work the zipper down to free his cock. Despite his surprise, he was thankful. Hawks Junior was starting to feel like a caged bird, trapped in his pants the way they were.

He was doubly as thankful when he felt your small, soft hand start working his cock, pumping it, letting the tip rub against the skin of your breast. Hawks shakily exhaled, taking a moment’s break from eating you out to focus of the pleasurable sensations overtaking his cock.

“Hawks~” you whined. “You’re wearing too many clothes…”

“Huh?” he said, dumbfounded for a moment.

“Take your clothes off.” He looked down at himself, raising his eyebrows when he compared his state of dress to yours.

“Oh, yeah, right!” He was quick to strip down, undoing his belt and allowing his pants to fall to the ground. His goggles, coat and shirt followed suit and you took in the sight before you.

In a moment of confidence, Hawks fully extended his wings and allowed you to look upon his toned body.  His muscles were well defined and displayed the power housed within his skin.

It made you want to blow him.

You got on your knees before him, nuzzling his cock before taking it into your mouth- not an ounce of hesitation left in you anymore.

“Oh, so is this it real (y/n)? Not some nervous, bashful girl? She’s actually a worthless slut?” he cupped your face in his left hand, pushing your head down further onto his cock. Unprepared, you gagged- pulling yourself off his cock to cough and wheeze. He wasn’t thrilled at that, he wanted to feel your throat convulse around his cock, you weren’t allowed to just pull off.

Hawks grabbed you by the hair, yanking you so you toppled to your hands and knees before his feet.  

“Oh come on, you can be a better slut than that!” You looked up to him, lust making your eyes dilated. Eagerly you repositioned yourself onto your knees, again not hesitating to slurp on his cock. He pushed your head down again like last time, triggering your gag reflex but you held down, forcing yourself to relax overtime, swallowing around his cock on occasion.

“See,” he cooed condescendingly, “there’s a good slut.” Wetness dribbled down your thigh. You pulled off his cock with an audible pop and said three words that made Hawks want to fuck you till you went blind.

“Please fuck me.” The look of it all was so erotic. You, naked on your knees, face red and makeup running, lips, puffy and red from sucking cock, begging to be stuffed with cock.

Hawks grabbed you by the hair again, dragging you to a gnarled tree. “oh, you want to be fucked? Fucked right in your needy hole?” you nodded eagerly. “Good slut, now go on, position yourself for me.”

You braced yourself against the tree, arching your back and planting your feet. You could feel the rough bark against the soft skin of your pillowy tits. It hurt but you didn’t care. You were too caught up in the eroticism of what you were doing.

When you felt Hawks tease his cock against your cunt, you couldn’t suppress your squeal of excitement or stop yourself from eagerly spearing yourself onto his cock. You shivered at the sound of Hawks groaning as he entered your tight, slick, heat.

“Fuuuuuck,” He moaned out as he adjusted to your tightness. It wasn’t long before he was bucking into your, searching for the spot inside you that would make your legs shake.

Three or four thrusts in you squeaked- eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh there? Is that where the little slut likes feeling my cock?” you nodded eagerly but that wasn’t enough for Hawks. “No, I want to hear you say it. Say it!”

“Yes! Fuck, that’s where I like feeling your cock!” Hawks pulled out completely.

“That’s where who likes feeling my cock?” your eyes widened with recognition.

“That’s where the little slut likes feeling your cock!”

“Oh, Good Girl!”

He thrust back in, aiming directly for that patch of skin inside your tight walls that made you see stars. Hawks’ own cock was feeling fantastic, the warm heat making him go a little crazy, groaning louder and louder.  He kept thrusting in, harder and harder, making your brain rattle around inside your skull. He reached around to grind his hand against your clit, adding to the cacophony of pleasure you felt.

You were getting really close and Hawks’ wasn’t far behind you. With each thrust he could feel his muscles tense up in preparation to cum, the only thing keeping him from erupting inside you being his own willpower.

Finally, as the pleasure built inside of you, your muscles firmly clenched around Hawks’ thick cock, milking it around your own orgasm. The pro hero’s hips slowed their pace, fucking you through both of your orgasms until finally they stuttered to a halt, stuffing you to the brim with his cream.

He remained like that for a moment, cock feeling too sensitive to pull out but finally, he eased his cock out of your hole, removing the dam which had kept all of Hawks’ cum inside you. He watched in satisfaction as his cum leaked out of your used hole, completely transfixed until he heard the snapping of a branch.

He whipped around, eyes locking onto a teenaged boy holding his phone up from the bushes. The kid was tiny, with the strangest hairstyle Hawks had ever seen. Purple balls that didn’t even resemble hair. All and all an ugly kid. Even worse was to see that while one hand was occupied holding his phone, the other was held suspiciously low.

Luckily, at sight alone, the kid made a man dash to avoid a scolding. Unluckily, that kid for sure had a first of its kind, hero sex tape.

Hawks looked back at you, now slid to the ground, breathing heavily. Your naked form was a work of art, and his satisfaction with the sequence of events left him with a clear head. He looked around the clearing the two of you had occupied.

Oh, right. He’d completely destroyed all of your clothes… that was tricky.

“Hey, sorry for ruining all your clothes.” He didn’t seem too sorry.

“Its, whatever… I’ll just have to figure out a way home.”

“Well, I could fly you home… no one to enforce public decency when you’re in the sky.” You were not thrilled at the prospect of flying through the air naked. You looked down at your nude body. Unfortunately, you had no choice.

“I don’t really have any other options…” you helped clean up the clearing, and when all was set and done, allowed yourself to be carried bridal style by Hawks.

He leapt into the air, soaring seemingly higher than a plane. The cold made your nipples rock hard.

“oh by the way, (y/n)?” you looked at him.

“When we get to my apartment I’m gonna need you to rub your scent on my bed.”

 Sometimes, you hated your quirk.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Fake Wife (Ethan x MC)

AKA: Fake Husband III

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2.7K Warning: Language Summary: A certain young doctor comes to his rescue when Ethan runs into an old flame. Part 3 of  Fake Husband and  Fake Husband, Part 2.

______________

The crowded banquet hall buzzed with laughter and conversation, the sound alone unnerving enough for Ethan. Add to that the countless doctors who vied for his attention and Ethan felt the need to escape at once.

In fact, he was desperate enough to do the unthinkable.

With the conviction of a suffocating man, he pulled out his phone and started to text.

Are you coming, Rookie?

It took him less than a second to realize the double entendre and to  picture the tantalizing reply she would undoubtedly send. In a rush, he tried to send a second text to clarify. He was, of course, too late because a blip announced her reply.

I love it when you talk dirty to me, Dr. Ramsey.

She attached an emoji, as was customary, one that looked as though it was smirking in the same way she would have done if she was standing before him. Regardless, his throat went dry at the implication.

This is why I don't text, he returned, hoping to sound unaffected. He knew better than to expect her to buy that.

“Dr. Ramsey!” An older doctor approached him. “Enjoying the conference?”

“God, no,” he replied truthfully, which only prompted a belly laugh from his companion.

“Ramsey, you haven't changed a bit! Don't think I didn't notice you haven't missed one since Miami,” he pointed out with amusement. “Surely, they can't be that awful.”

Ethan took a swig of his drink, dispassionately watching their surroundings. Every year, he found himself convinced to attend, for old times sake, as Lilac liked to tell him. Despite the indifferent and irritated front he put up, Ethan enjoyed them.

He enjoyed them with her.

Inevitably, his mind traveled to that legendary Miami conference and to his favorite memory of her. The reminder of her full lips, moving against his for the first time and coaxing a yearning he hadn't felt until that point, made him restless to have her at his side. Without much pretense, he excused himself from the presence of the jolly older doctor and found a semblance of peace by the dessert table. He glanced at his phone, where her reply awaited.

Liar. I bet you're smiling right now.

A broad grin spread across his face despite his best efforts.

Are you ready to join me? I can't stand another minute being alone with these vultures.

Ethan could picture her in the hotel room upstairs, rolling her eyes upon reading his dramatic reply.

Almost ready… You can't rush art.

It was Ethan's turn to roll his eyes at that, though not without a smile. His poor, unprepared brain had only just begun to picture how tantalizing stunning she would look, when his phone pinged with an incoming photo from her.

It took everything in him not to choke on his drink. Hell, it took an insurmountable amount of sheer will power to remain where he was, instead of dashing upstairs to pin her to the wall.

Are you okay over there?, she replied.

There was no time to lie in his reply because a bout of loud laughter erupted from a group nearby. Ethan briefly glanced on instinct, ready to dismiss the interruption with a small huff and return to the tempting picture on his screen. His attention, however, snagged on the person at the center of the small crowd, the one who spoke with a lively cadence and who no doubt had been the one to make everyone laugh.

It had been over ten years since he had seen  her last, and though she wore her blond hair much shorter, there was no mistaking those glacial silver eyes and the charming, effortless way she enraptured those around her. Statuesque and confident as ever, Dr. Fiona Bellington looked every bit like her former self, the girl both Ethan and Tobias had fallen desperately in love with.

His phone buzzed in his hand, bringing him back from over a decade ago in a rush. Ethan didn't read whatever it was Lilac had replied, instead, he quickly texted:

Never mind, don't bother to come down. I'm leaving.

Blood rushing loudly at his hot ears, Ethan hurried towards the door. The sight of Fiona set off a fight or flight response and Ethan gladly chose to flee, much too eager to avoid the specter of his past. He didn't make it far, however, before Fiona herself was standing right before him, impeding his path.

“Ethan?” she asked, though the recognition was evident in her heart-shaped face. “I thought that was you.”

Nothing in her perfect posture suggested she felt as uncomfortable as Ethan did. He, on the other hand, felt his face burn as he wished he could disappear into the tacky carpet of the banquet hall. Then again, that had always been their dynamic. Fiona, ever confident and graceful, and Ethan, quiet and awkward in her presence.

“Dr. Bellington,” he acknowledged at last.

Fiona laughed pleasantly at the formality of his greeting. “You know you can call me Fiona.”

Ethan didn't respond. His phone buzzed in his hand with Lilac's replies.

“How have you been?” She looked unfazed by his lack of response. Perhaps Ethan took a beat too long to reply, or Fiona was still in the habit of asking questions she did not care to hear the answer to because she added, “It's funny I ran into you. I just read your case study on Primary Hemophagocytic Lymphohistiocytosis in the NEJM.”

“Oh?”

What else could he say? In his hand, the buzzing became more frantic to match the content of Lilac's responses, no doubt.

“Very impressive, as always,” Fiona went on, undeterred.

They spent the next few minutes catching up, even if Ethan's side of the conversation was brief and detached.

“What a career you've had these past ten years.” Her silver eyes sparkled, making her look almost ten years younger. She fixed them on Ethan in a manner that was too calculated to be casual.

“All a result of hard work and dedication,” he deflected. His eyes abandoned the silvery spectacle before him—from Fiona's white blonde hair, to her eyes and dress—to instead find an escape route. Ethan had no moral qualms about being rude, but even he couldn't just leave mid-conversation. Then again, could it be called a conversation when his responses were short and noncommittal?

Fiona, seemingly oblivious about his escape plans, smirked and continued, “And an unmatched genius, Ethan. There is no need to be humble with me.”

Fiona moved closer to him, almost imperceptibly. His instinct was to step back, but the dessert table behind him prevented him from doing so.

Her sharp face lit up with determination and a hint of playfulness. “It's no surprise. You were always so…” Fiona allowed her gaze to fall to his chest, before slowly dragging it up to meet his eyes. “Driven.”

Completely unaffected, Ethan said nothing. The only source of discomfort stemmed from feeling trapped between the pastry-laden table and a woman whom he hadn't thought about in a decade. A woman who was determined to lay it on real thick with a charm that might have worked on him in another life.

Fiona, clever as ever, must have realized the lack of effect on her audience because she tried for a new approach. “I've thought a lot about you these past few years,” she confessed in a soft whisper. “I've always wondered if that mess with Tobias hadn't happened, if we could have…”

His jaw clenched reflexively.

“There's nothing more detrimental to progress than foolishly dwelling in the past,” he replied, face taught with tension, fist clasping his drink with formidable force. The words were the gentlemanly alternative to what Ethan really wanted to say, something along the lines of, “You fucked up, Fiona. And now Tobias, proving to be smarter than he looks, doesn't give you the time of day after he got bored. So now you're back, with your tail between your legs to chase after the now-famous alternative.”

As it turned out, his words were perhaps too gentle because Fiona considered them thoughtfully. Something akin to hope bloomed in her face, much to his dismay. “I absolutely agree,” she said. “Perhaps the best way forward is to break through any walls.”

At least she had the decency to look almost bashful, if a bit hopeful. Though utterly incredulous, Ethan scrutinized the woman he once fancied himself in love with. Had it really been love? It would be a disservice to his younger self to write it off as anything else. Fiona was intelligent and fiercely ambitious, not to mention charming and exceedingly beautiful. Anyone who knew her then would inevitably fall in love with her. But, as Ethan moved on and mended the fragments of a broken heart, he understood the ambition that drove her had always paired with a cruelty that tore down everyone in her path. He understood now that the love he had felt for her then was a tumultuous torrent, untamed and almost destructive but gone as quickly as it had appeared.  

Misinterpreting his silence, she said, “Maybe we can get out of here and—”

Fiona did not finish that sentence because her icy grey eyes swiveled to something over Ethan's shoulder. Before Ethan could turn to look too, a pair of warm, familiar hands appeared from under his arms, sliding up his chest in a lazy line. Soon after, the lovely face of Lilac Allende appeared from over his shoulder.

The way she looked up at him was so adoring that something tugged at his chest.

“There you are, babe,” she murmured, her voice unfairly sultry, as if his heartbeat hadn't already spiked to astronomical levels at the way her hands touched him. “I've been looking all over for you.”

Ethan said nothing, unable to speak through the haze she effortlessly cast over him. How was she always so good at that? His eyes fell on the emerald green dress that hugged her pristine body. Ethan repressed a groan as he took in the revealing neckline and equally ensnaring leg slit. It was the very same dress that tormented him all the time ago through a social media post.

At the extended silence, Lilac's eyes widened slightly, prompting him to say something. In the most discreet way, she gestured toward Fiona and it hit him.

They were doing this again.

Ages after their initial fib, there they stood, about to sell the lie again, their roles reversed.

Without wasting another minute, he snared his arms around Lilac’s waist and pulled her to him, as naturally as the rhythm of the ocean. Her high heels compensated for their height difference and as Ethan leaned down, their noses were mere inches apart. “I was only gone for twenty minutes,” he informed her, swaying them slightly as he held her. “It's nice to know I am so thoroughly missed when I leave.”

Lilac raised her brow imperceptibly at him, no doubt taking his words as a challenge. The most wicked smile pulled at her lips, made more dangerous still with the way her body pressed tightly against his. She lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Speaking of thorough, you promised we could leave to our room upstairs so we could—”

Lilac made a show of noticing Fiona for the first time. “Oh, hello.”

The blonde looked at them through thinly veiled shock and disappointment. They disentangled though Lilac remained at his side, hand casually resting at his chest. The tiny gesture made it entirely too difficult to concentrate.

“Lilac, this is Dr. Fiona Bellington,” Ethan said at last. Lilac was not acting when she tore her eyes from Fiona before quickly glancing at Ethan. “Dr. Bellington, this is Dr. Lilac Allende,” he paused to kiss the top of Lilac’s forehead. “My wife.”

Uttering the word, even if it was a lie, sent his pulse into chaos.

Lilac shifted slightly to extend her hand in greeting but all pleasantries were forgotten as Fiona gaped at them.

“Wife?” Fiona said to Ethan in apparent disbelief. “I thought you didn’t—” she stopped and cleared her throat, regaining some composure. “I never took you for the marrying type, Ethan.”

“He wasn’t the conference type and look at him now,” Lilac returned cheerfully.

Fiona blinked. She seemed to remember her manners only seconds later because she plastered on a pleasant enough smile and offered her hand to Lilac.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said as they shook hands. “Ethan and I are old friends. We were at Johns Hopkins together.”

He fought the urge to grimace. He would hardly call Fiona his friend.

“Yes, he mentioned that before,” Lilac returned just as politely.

There was a slight twitch in Fiona’s smile, sending it from passably agreeable to almost forced. “Forgive my initial shock,” she said. “I never knew Ethan to believe in marriage. What was it you said about it being a senseless institution?”

Ethan’s shoulders stiffened, entirely too annoyed by Fiona’s petty maneuvers. He opened his mouth to bluntly refute her, but Lilac laughed beside him. “The speech about there being no scientific basis for soulmates? You were already that cynical in med school, love?”

Inspired, Ethan smiled lovingly at her and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“I hadn’t met you yet.”

Lilac froze at the words and he was delighted to see a blush tinge her face. Fiona, meanwhile, struggled to conceal her crestfallen expression, her smile appearing painful now.

“We should go if we want to make dinner,” Ethan said to Lilac, deciding that any minute they spent in the company of others instead of alone was a waste of time. “Dr. Bellington,” Ethan said with a nod as mode of farewell.

“It was good to meet you,” Lilac added before Ethan whisked her away, leaving a dejected Fiona behind. They were successful in concealing their amusement until they reached a deserted hall several doors away.

Lilac's fit of laughter was contagious and he joined her without reservations.

“We should go into acting in case this medicine thing doesn't work out,” he commented.

“You make it very easy to act.”

All traces of humor were gone from her face. Unable to fight back the pull any longer, he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her until their lips met. She responded at once, her body conforming to his as though it was designed to do so, a little moan escaping her when his tongue traced a trail along her lower lip. By the time they pulled apart, completely breathless, his tongue and lips stung pleasantly as a result of her ministrations.

“Are you okay?” she murmured, her arms still wrapped around his neck. Her fingers caressed the angles of his face and Ethan closed his eyes.

“I'm fine. How did you know I needed a save?”

“Your text,” she explained. “And the terrified look on your face when I found you talking to her.”

Ethan raised his brows to his hairline, waiting for more. Lilac rolled her eyes and relented. “And I also heard her trying to get you to leave with her.”

He chuckled. “You're cute when you're jealous.” Lilac opened her mouth, cheeks ablaze. “You've nothing to worry about, Rookie. I'm interested in one person and one person only.”

“Who? Your wife?”

“She's not my wife yet,” he replied with a grin, aware it probably made him look sheepish. He didn't care. “But I do like the sound of the word.”

“Good. Get used to it because it will be true in a few weeks.”

The thought alone exhilarated him. Very gently, he took her hand in his, bringing his lips to the engagement ring he had placed there a few weeks prior.

“I'm counting down the days.”

Their lips met again in another passionate kiss. Ethan's hands fell to the swell of her hips, his fingers quickly descending to the slit along her thigh.

“This dress,” he breathed when they pulled apart. His eyes took her in shamelessly, marveling at how a mere piece of fabric made her look entirely like a goddess. “Did you wear it for me?”

“Yes,” Lilac allowed with a wistful sigh. “I was hoping to finally get some use out of it.”

Ethan flashed his fiancée a devilish lopsided smile.  “Night's not over yet,” he whispered, pressing a hot lip against her neck.  “And besides, I think its true purpose is to be a heap in our bedroom floor.”

____________

Prompt: Thank you anon!

Also, thank you to the anon who wanted Jealous!MC (kinda)

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Author’s Note: Oh how the turn tables...

THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading this series. Let me say this is not the last time I will use the fake dating trope because I love it so much.

Apologies for that god awful summary!

Finally, I hope you don’t mind me adding extra scenes for the Miami kiss rewrite. May the writing gods be with me because I am so excited!

- Bree

____________

Tags: @openheart12 | @ethandaddyramsey | @noboundariesplease | @silverlitskies |  @flyawayboo | @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum | @myusualnerdyself | @thatysn | @choicesyouplayandmore | @chasingrobbie | @trappedinfandoms | @togetherwearerapture​ | @nooruleman | @axwalker​ | @parkerattano​ | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker | @kaavyaethanramsey | @edith-eggs1 | @choices-lurker​ | @jens-diamondchoices​ | @tefigranger​ | @ethanrcmsey​ | @coffeebeandragon​ | @senator-adrian-raines-wifey​ | @aestheticartwriting​ | @binny1985​ | @mvalentine​ | @sanchita012​ | @drethanramslay​ | @ramseysno1rookie​ | @takeharryandgo​ | @aworldoffandoms​ | @desmaranj​ | @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor | @oofchoices​ | @ethxnrxmsey​ | @octobereighth​ | @kopenheart12​ | @lilyvalentine​ | @honeyandsunfl0wers​ | @virtualrain202 | @enmchoices​ | @tyrilstouch​ | @rookie-ramsey​ | @humanpokemon​ | @apphia12​ | @kiara-36​ | @eramsey28​ | @whippedforethanramsey​ | @custaroonie​

@dulceghernandez |  @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |

[safertokiss]

Don’t Call Me Doctor - Part 2

A/N: Heyo party people! Ok this is part 2 of DCMD and I’m super excited for you guys to read it. I’m so happy I finally decided to give in to my urge to write cause it’s so much fun! Thank you guys for all the support of the first part. Enjoy:)❤️

Pairing : SPENCER x READER

Category: Fluff and Angst and Smut

Word Count: 2.2k

ENJOY!

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

The moment she walked through those doors I knew I was a fucking goner.

Her beauty was indescribable. Unmatchable. Unattainable.

Dangerous.

She was dangerous. All she had to do was enter the building and I was already wrapped around her finger. Dangerous.

Even though the bullpen was bustling and filled with chaos at the time, the unmistakable creak of the front door rang clear in my ears. Glancing away from my work momentarily, my eyes were immediately drawn to her. I mean how could they not be? One look in her direction and it was clear she was nervous. She looked flustered, her face was flushed, but strangely enough there was a hint of a smile upon it. Even in her frenzied state, her beauty knocked the wind out of my chest. Who the hell is this girl?

As she surveyed the hectic room, I noticed her head perk up at whatever or whoever it was that she had located. Following her line of sight I was met with Hotch. Oh so she’s here for him, maybe a family member or friend.

Wait. Wait wait wait wait.

Remembering the conversation Hotch had had with us recently about a new recruit to the team, I was able to answer my own question. Oh god she’s the new recruit.

This is bad. This is really, REALLY bad.

I couldn’t go through this again, it simply wasn’t an option for me. My heart could not handle anymore pain, a pain that would surely accompany this girl if I let her in. Too much had happened in my life already at such a young age, from missing my chance with JJ to losing the one somewhat serious relationship I had ever had. Like I said, she’s dangerous. I had only been aware of her existence for a couple of minutes and I already knew that she possessed the key to unlocking my withered heart. However, she also wielded the axe that would run me through in a split second.

I knew in that moment that, as much as it pained me, I couldn’t let her have the chance. I had to take away her power over me before she was even aware she yielded it.

Looking back in the direction of my enchantress, I noticed her and Hotch had moved from their original spot and were now walking towards the center of the room. Towards the rest of the team. Towards me. Quickly, in order to avoid making eye contact I ducked my head down and pretended to work away at the papers sprawled in front of me.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the others shaking from excitement at meeting our newest agent and I didn’t blame them. It wasn’t often we got new blood around here. Certainly none of them had taken my breath away like she did.

I was aware of how rude it was for me to not join in on the welcome party, but I was still struggling to breathe correctly from the brief glance I got of her. From my position at my desk I was close enough to hear the conversations being held, well enough at least to hear her be introduced to the team.

Y/N Y/L/N.

It fit her perfectly. A beautiful name for a gorgeous woman. While the others were busy meeting our newest member, I decided I just had to hear how her name rolled off my tongue, even if just this once. In the most quiet voice I could muster up, I released my own personal curse from my lips.

“Y/N.”

Fuck. It just felt so right. It was as if she had been given that name just so at one point in life I’d be able to shout it out for the entire world to hear. Why did the universe hate me so much?

I had gotten so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I hadn’t noticed the woman plaguing my mind had already taken a seat at the desk next to mine. It wasn’t until she sputtered out an overly enthusiastic greeting directed towards me that I realized she was there.

“Hi I’m Y/N Y/L/N! Nice to meet you Dr. Reid.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Immediately as the words started pouring from her lips I felt my body tense. Suddenly I understood the allure of sirens. How a voice could be so enticing to reel in unsuspecting sailors on the sea. I understood their choice of action. But when she called me Dr. Reid. Fuck. That should simply be illegal. Hearing her use my title awakened something deep inside of me that I had been trying to suppress since the moment she waltzed through the door. It also awakened something below my waist, my body twitching as a result. Stop it Spencer. You can’t let this happen, you need to push through it. Make her stay away.

I must have been sitting there speechless for too long because before I knew it she was at it again.

“Sorry if I scared you! I’m not the most socially adept individual. I couldn’t help but notice that-“

Put a stop to this Spencer. Make her stay away.

“You’re rambling.” Fuck that was rude.

“Pardon me Dr. Reid?”

Holy fuck if I hear her call me that one more time I don’t think there’s anything in the world strong enough to prevent me from ripping her clothes off and taking her right here on my desk. Spencer stop! Make her stay far away from you.

“You were rambling. Thought you’d like to know. And it’s Spencer.” I am such a dick. But I had no choice. Letting her into my heart would only leave the both of us in shambles, longing for the pieces to be put back together. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt, I accompanied my rude remark with a slight glance in her direction. Yeah that was a big mistake. Even if it only lasted a split second, I could clearly see the hurt plaguing her beautiful orbs, a hurt that was caused by yours truly. Wow this fucking sucks.

“Oh...ok”, she replied before turning her attention back to her files in front of her.

I really wish I didn’t have to treat her like that, but it was the only option that left us both unscathed. Returning to the task at hand, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander and imagine a life alongside the enchantress sitting next to me.

Maybe in a world where I wasn’t so fucked up.

~~~

Ok remember when I said this sucked? Yeah it was worse than I could’ve ever imagined. It had been about three months since Y/N had started working with us and I spent the majority of that time running away from her. She’d walk in, I’d briskly walk out before cracking. She’d wave at me and I’d have to look away before imploding on the spot.

The worst part of this whole ordeal was that it was obvious that she had a thing for me. The amount of times I had caught her staring at my hands or for some reason my hair while she was trying to be subtle, was a number almost too large to keep track of. I’d be trying to mind my own business and block her out of my thoughts, when I’d catch her biting her lip, lost in thought, while her eyes raked my body. It was getting to be too much to handle.

Most of the time while we were at the round table discussing cases she would take the seat next to mine, much to my dismay. Her close proximity always acted as a ticking time bomb to my poor, defenseless body, usually eliciting reactions not suitable for a work environment. Following nearly every meeting I’d hightail it out of the room straight to the bathroom. And while she probably assumed I was just trying to avoid her, the reality was much more humiliating.

What had she turned me into? I felt like a horny teenager all of the time. What would my friends think if they knew I had to run to the bathroom to take care of my arousal almost every other day? It was so embarrassing, but only she could provoke such a reaction from me.

As often as my bathroom escapades took place, I had become a pro at suppressing my true feelings for her. For some reason, however, my attempts to make her stay away triggered the opposite response on her end. I can’t even explain the amount of pain that filled my chest everytime I had to reject her offers to get together and spend time together outside of work. I had even stopped going out with the unit because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself around her, usually coming up some lame excuse about having work to catch up on.

I had no idea what to do. I wanted her so bad.

I felt like I was in my own personal purgatory that had absolutely no escape in sight. All I had to do to set myself free was reach out and touch the ethereal being in front of me and express the feelings I harbored for her. But I still refused to consider that an option.

Not only was she keeping my mind occupied at work, I couldn’t make it through a single night without seeing her beautiful face. While the dreams had started off pretty neutral and innocent, they quickly progressed into territory that shouldn’t have been accessible. I truly felt like a teenager again with the amount of wet dreams I had been having to deal with. I just couldn’t help myself. Her body was amazing. It was physically impossible for me to not picture myself ramming her into my desk or bending her over the round table, making her scream my name for all of D.C. to hear.

God it was getting harder and harder to ignore her. What was stopping me from grabbing her wrist, pulling her into an empty office and destroying her on every surface available. I had to do something or figure out a way to push those thoughts away.

“Hey pretty boy! Get over here!”

I swiveled in my chair to seek out Morgan, spotting him across the bull pen. Sighing quietly, I made my way over to my friend, trying to mask the internal conflict occurring between my brain and my heart.

“What can I do for you Morgan?”

“You gonna tell me what’s going on between you and Y/L/N?” Shit. Fuck. I thought it wasn’t noticeable. Play it cool Spencer.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me pretty boy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Lies. All lies.

“Reid, come on man. It’s not really hard to notice that something is off between you two. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you interact with her outside of a case and you’re the kid who’s known to ramble to anyone within a five mile radius, nevermind the girl who sits next to you everyday. Did something happen?”

“No...no. Nothing happened and quite frankly I seriously don’t think it’s any of your business to question me about who I do and do not converse with, ok?”

“Geez! Calm down buddy. I’m sorry, ok. I won’t bring it up again.” I once again felt like the biggest dick in the world watching him walk away from where we had been standing. Recognizing that there was nothing I could do about it now, I made my way back to my desk, noticing that Y/N had returned from her lunch break.

After sitting down and working for a bit, I couldn’t help myself. The urge to look at the object of my affections was just too damn insistent. Glancing up at her, I was instantly entranced by the goddess in front of me. She was busy scribbling away at whatever was laid out in front of her, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her face. She was biting her lip in what I would assume was a way to help her concentrate, but all it did was stir things inside of me. Ok this was getting ridiculous.

It was crazy how even the simplest of things, like her eyes crinkling at the corners when she smiled or the way she licked her lips like it was going out of style, would instantly prevent my mind from functioning correctly and make the world around me dissolve until all that existed anymore was her. God those eyes. So intricately designed that even the most beautiful gods and goddesses would be jealous.

WAIT. HER EYES.

Fuck. She was looking at me. She saw me staring directly at her.

As fast as I possibly could, I ducked my head down and cleared my throat, deciding to play it off and pretend like nothing had just happened. Except that that was kind of hard to do when my body decided to say “fuck you” and turned into a goddamn tomato within seconds. Oh god why did I do that? How was I going to get myself out of this already complicated situation? This was bad. This was really bad. Three months of rejections and cold responses down the drain with one stupid, meaningful glance in her direction.

Fuck.

To be continued...

https://safertokiss.tumblr.com/post/623412350001856512/dont-call-me-doctor-part-3

https://safertokiss.tumblr.com/post/623219810962178048/dont-call-me-doctor-part-1

Tag list: @hopebaker @pastathighs @psychedellic-phase @gloryekaterina @sleepysnapesnake

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Unfulfilled - Nik

[Nik! and little Kel POV at the end]

CW: implied depression, manipulation, magical whump, noncon touch (nonsexual), food mention, vampirism (but not blood), implied noncon hair cut 

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next 

The Sorcerer felt restless. A feeling of being constantly unsatisfied, that nothing could fill. It dulled him, make him numb and still. It was aimless, resisting his usual comforts and self-assurances.

It lingered.

In the end, it was an annoyance. Something unnecessary that persisted at the back of his mind, butting in when he was focused or engaged in his work. It crept around long it enough that he decided to do something about it.

He carelessly grabbed a nectarine, then paused halfway out the door of his study. A book had caught his eye. He reached over and grabbed it, glancing at the cover. The history of some land that he had conquered. He had taken it in hopes that it would have some secret, some old, long forgotten advantage that he could use to dominate, but that kingdom had been weak and simple. Now, the boring listless tome collected dust.

On a hunch, he brought it with him.

He opened the enchanted door to the vivarium and strolled in. It was warmer in there, and he felt his ego inflate slightly. Such a powerful illusion that he had crafted; it was unmatched.

He whistled to get the boy’s attention as he went to the center of the false forest. He heard a small, bitten off gasp and a faint rustling in the trees above him. A minute later, the lithe figure dropped effortlessly out of the tree, crouched down by the trunk.

Large golden eyes watching his every move carefully – fearfully. They glanced down to the talismans around his neck and flared a bit. That fear helped satisfy the itch, but it wasn’t enough.

The Sorcerer snapped his fingers and Nik didn’t want to get any closer. He really, really didn’t want to get any closer. Proximity always brought pain; always. Grabbing and draining and cutting and taking. The Sorcerer, the vampire had shorn off a section of Nik’s hair a few days ago, leaving half his head nearly shaved. Nik had felt the need to hide immediately, wholly embarrassed of his new appearance. It was silly, he knew. There wasn’t anyone else there to see him, but his face still burned when he felt difference in weight or a draft of air.

Another snap, and Nik had to go. It would be far worse if he didn’t. Slowly, he rose and walked forward. He paused, a little out of arm’s length away.

“Eyes closed.”

A small whimper made itself known before Nik could stop it. What was going to happen now? Another blindfold? Would he be taken to the workshop? After a pleading look that got him nowhere, Nik closed his eyes.

A hand grabbed his wrist. He tried to pull away, but the grip was strong and squeezed tighter momentarily to remind him how powerless he was here. It uncurled his fingers and placed something in his hand.

“Open.”

Curious, Nik opened his eyes to see the little fruit in his hand. His chest swelled as he quickly glanced up. A very rare treat, he had only ever received one – that he hadn’t been able to eat - at that awful party. (Well, he got Kel that night so maybe it wasn’t that awful in the long run).

“You may have it.”

“T-Thank you,” Nik muttered, hands trembling slightly as he peeled it. The smell was nearly overpowering after so long of bland, dead meals.

It was fresh, and soft, and like home. When they were little, Kai and he would compete to see who could collect the most fruits like these. Not exactly the same, theirs weren’t quite as tart, and then they would sit and eat them until they felt sick.

They hadn’t done that in a while - busy with other things, felt that they were too grown to waste their time like that. He missed it. Nik would give anything and everything that he had for just one more day He felt so weak and pathetic, but it was enough to make a few tears fall. It was bittersweet, the memories giving him glimpses of a better time he couldn’t return to.

As he lost himself in memories, the Sorcerer circled and ran a hand through Nik’s uneven hair. He drew a thin line of magic out, skimming off the top of the gratitude. It was pure; grateful and innocent. The boy shivered under his touch, but didn’t resist.

The Sorcerer breathed deep, feeling that itch starting to fade away into contentedness.

Nik felt it from the moment that the Sorcerer laid his hand upon him, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. It hurt to care, hurt more to fight against the tide. So instead, he ignored it as it crashed over him. He ignored the buzzing in his ears and the ache the developed in his head.

He just wanted one good thing, just for now. Was that too much to ask?

Far too soon, the fruit was gone and Nik felt worse than before. There was a growing hollowness inside his chest, threatening to grate and wear him down. He kept his gaze down, unwilling to look the vampire in the eyes.

As for the Sorcerer – it wasn’t enough. He wanted more, he wanted this emptiness inside him to be patched and smoothed over, not just filled for a moment. Gently, he hooked a finger under Nik’s chin and raised his eyes to meet his.

“How about something that lasts a bit longer?” he mocked as he raised the book.

Nik’s eyes shone as he looked. Something. Something that would occupy his mind and keep his attention for more than just a moment. He glanced up and back, checking to see if this was real. The Sorcerer smiled and held it out to him, hand still holding the boy’s chin.

Nik’s heart leapt as he took the hard cover, smiling uncontrollably. He couldn’t care less what it was about, it was something. An instinct inside him told him it was wrong, it was sick to feel this grateful and happy for the least this man could give, but he couldn’t listen to that now.

He smiled up at the man, getting one in return.

Then Sorcerer’s eyes glimmered for a moment before Nik’s knees buckled. The man caught him, one hand pressing Nik’s head to his shoulder and the other around the boy’s waist. They went down together, book dropped carelessly in the grass.

The magic was pulled so quickly, so fully and without warning it felt like it took Nik’s breath with it. His vision was blurry, skin buzzing and overly sensitive. Each breathe took effort, panting out like he was exhausted. As he was held, Nik only felt more and more exhausted. Gold eyes fluttered closed, strength stolen away bit by bit.

The Sorcerer smiled, petting back the boy’s hair. Now, he was full. He was energized and satisfied. Stolen happiness felt the same inside, fulfilled the same need. He stayed, drawing as much as he desired until his attention wandered to other, more important matters. When he was done, he left the boy where he was to return to his own business.

~

The moment the door closed again, Kel peered around the corner of the branch. They didn’t like the man, didn’t trust him. They snorted a good riddance, then scampered down the tree to find their person.

He was laying on the ground - asleep? Confused and curious, Kel came closer. They sniffed his hand and pawed at him lightly.

Nik didn’t move.

Kel cocked their head. He was cold. Cold like empty, cold like alone – the kind of cold they were before he found them. Cold was bad. Cold was what happened when they left their pack for too long, cold was what happened when there was no lively magic dancing around them.

Cold like the bad people who took them.

Kel crawled up the boy’s shoulder and curled up on his chest.

They would warm him.

~

@welcome-to-the-whumpfest @as-a-matter-of-whump @thehopelessopus @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @pepperonyscience @insanitywishes @redstainedsocks @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @whump-me-all-night-long @susiequaz12 @mnmlover2002 @whumpeesblog @cupcakes-and-pain @geekygirl12225 @starnight-whump @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @just-a-raccoon-in-a-party-hat

[pls let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!] 

[blog1917]

Family Treasure

La Cafetera

            My family treasure is our coffee maker. In Spanish it’s called “una cafetera”. I could confidently say that the coffee maker is something that my family system would agree to as a treasure for us. In all my sibling’s houses, my aunts and uncle’s houses, my cousins' houses and of course my parents' house, anyone who goes would find this one common object. The coffee maker is an object that is used in our culture. Making coffee in the morning for breakfast and sitting at the dining table together to talk about our plans for the day and share reminders. After every meal a small cup of coffee is shared amongst the family as a form of tradition and unity. The most important cup of coffee is the one we each share after dinner. This last cup of the day is where everyone comes together to share stories about their day. The reason why this one last cup of coffee is important is because it’s a symbol of love and laughter before everyone disperse to their rooms or get sucked into social media or calls. The beauty behind these magical, heartfelt moments are made up by the famous coffee maker; also known as the “cafetera”. Many coffee makers can be made, claiming that is the best way to make the most delicious coffee but nothing would ever compare to the cafetera. The sound that it makes while it’s simmering at the top of the cafetera is like music to my families’ ears. The strong aroma of coffee that fills the kitchen and slowly dances in the air of the hallway till it reaches one's nose as a light touch of heaven. To the delightful smooth liquid texture running down our tongue into our souls. This is something no other coffee maker can do. But the one and only cafetera will make it happen. As I describe my family treasure and how it’s been passed down from generation to generation, I am reminded of what I read in the article “What is a System and system perspective?” by Davd Aloyzy Zera. In the article it states, “For example, a child is a system comprising that individual, as are individual teachers and administrators who are constantly changing and evolving” (pp 18). This caught my attention because I thought about the many ways that we could make coffee in this generation and how we have evolved from what our parents and grandparents used to use to make coffee but yet for my family it is very difficult to change our traditional way of making coffee. Which brings me to the idea and concepts of how children have their own family treasures that they carry with them. Although, there might be another “new” evolved object that may seem more effective, it won’t be the same for that child to change out of what they’ve been taught at home. As teachers we must be open minded with the objects that each child is comfortable with and ask questions on why each object that the child carries with them is important to them and their family system. As a three-year-old child I remember gathering in the living room with the family after a delicious dinner. My mother would clean the table as the coffee maker was singing its beautiful tone screaming that it’s ready to be serviced. I could still remember the excitement of my family as they scooped a teaspoon of white sugar and stirred quickly causing a harmonic song above the laughter that filled the air. Although I was too young to drink the coffee, I still felt like I was a part of the family unity. The important part wasn’t the delightful taste of the coffee. It was always about the conversations and family time together. Creating wonderful memories that would last a lifetime. That is why the coffee maker is a part of my family's system. This is a part of who I am as my own system which is a small branch in the whole definition of what makes me Marlene. A great example of this is found in the article “Socio-scientific Issues Instruction” by Molly Ewing and Troy D. Sadler. It states, “For example, in order to understand how a plant grows we might define the systems of the plant itself with component parts (e.g., stems, leaves) making up the whole, which can carry out a function the individual parts cannot” (pp18).  This was described perfectly because it brought me to mind how I approach each cup of coffee especially when I know it’s made from a cafetera. I remember two weeks ago, going to visit my sister’s house and the first thing she did after we shared a meal was prep the coffee maker and set the table to share a heart-to-heart talk while we indulged on a hot cup of fresh coffee while her son sat with us drinking milk from his sippy cup. This is tradition, this is relationship, this is culture, moreover, this is a part of who we are as a family system. In each story family system theory is shown by how just this one object brought forth several generations together to share this one moment. From the time when I was only three years old and looked up at my family enjoying these moments. To the present time of my sister and I sharing these moments as my nephew would sit joyfully, just as I used to do as a child. My family cannot understand the significance of the cafetera and how it plays a great part of our family system.

 Community Treasure:

The Holy Bible

            My community treasure is The Holy Bible. Reason being is that I grew up in a Christian community in which my family was deeply involved in. My mother is a pastor, my brothers and I are in the music ministry and the majority of my lifetime I’ve always been devoted to my church and faith. I remember taking the bible everywhere I went, including school. The bible would be the book that I would use for reading time. Of course, my parents would give me age-appropriate bible story books, nonetheless in my mind I understood it as it being the Holy Bible. Ever since I could remember I would go to church every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday of the week. Plus, every Saturday for children’s events. Needless to say, all of my friends were and still are a part of my Christian community. Thus, The Holy Bible is undoubtedly a community treasure. The Bible is our common guide that brings us all together to be in the same mindset and have profound conversations. The value of the Holy Bible is unmatched for the members of my belief community. One of the most direct description of the important of community meaning in a child was found in the article “Toward inclusive understandings of marriage in an early childhood classroom: negotiating (un)readiness, community, and vulnerability through a critical reading of King and King” by Frantz Bently and Mariana Souto-Manning. The article states, “The connections with and between the children will carry and shape the conversation” (pp 197).  Which is very interesting to me because I thought about the connection of how a child’s character and mindset is molded due to the surrounding that child is exposed to. I recall a moment when I was in first grade, and it was reading time. All of my classmates were taking out their princess books or/and robot books, yet I was the only one taking out my Holy Bible book. My teacher pointed out that I could borrow one of the classroom books instead of reading the book I brought as if there was something wrong with my Bible book. This moment was very hard for me because my classmates started laughing and making fun of my book. Little did they know that in my mind I view my Holy Bible book just as important and interesting to me as their princes/robot books were to them. That experience led me to understand that teachers must take into consideration the importance of a Child's community. In my community the Holy Bible was and still is a beautiful treasure, which the stories never end and holds new meaning every single time a person reads it. Which leads me to the article, “Ecological Systems Theory: The Person in the Center of the Circles” by Nancy Darling. A great quote from this article stands out, which states, “When predicting the strength of association of parental knowledge with positive aspects of development (social skills, friendships with prosocial peers, good academic performance), one might predict a stronger association in high-resource environments” (pp 215). This quote brought me back to the way I felt in that moment when the teacher suggested choosing a different book to read. At that moment I felt very confident with the choice of book that I wanted to read. Not because I felt obligated to stick to the bible, instead I felt that I had a choice of my own and regardless of what others may think of my choice of book, I will remain strong with my choice. My parents never forced me to do anything unless it was regarding my safely. Which meant that I had the option of choosing what I wanted. However, due to the fact that I felt like my teacher didn’t understand the type of community I was a part of, it led to this moment of misunderstanding and what I felt was a lack of carelessness towards my community system. A great example of a moment when I felt like my community treasure was seen as the gem that it is, was when I would go on playdates with my friends, and we would each bring our Holy Bible with us. Showing each other the colorful pictures and sharing our own thoughts on what the pictures meant was the highlight of the day. As an adult I still have these moments with my friends, and we share such wonderful insights on what we understood of the bible. The value of the Holy Bible is truly incomparable. I wouldn’t treat it for any amount of money this world can offer me, and I feel that the members of my community would agree with me on this. 

Reflection:

            Family and community treasures promote family school community partnerships by bringing forth more clarity of each child and the systems that make them who they are as individuals. Understanding the cultures and values that bother the family treasures and community treasures hold is a powerful thing. Not only for the child but also for the relationship between the parents and the teachers. One Idea that I think would work towards bringing these two systems into another system would be to have the children express what one of their family systems or community systems is during circle time and use that information to pour into another system. A second idea would be to come up with a project where the parent could be a part of and have a presentation in class where both parents/family and child can speak about their family or community systems. Which would transition into a classroom system whereas a classroom, new games can come to be created. Overall, I think that each of the reading were perfectly clear on the importance of what systems theory is and how important it is in a Childs life. Which follows them into their young adult lives.  Most importantly as teachers it is important to be open to the different systems/ cultures a child brings into the classroom. As it was wonderfully explained was how Dana Frantz Bently and Mariana Souto-Manning stated, “To be a critical teacher is to embrace the discomfort of not knowing, to become vulnerable, to embrace the complexity of an identity that encompasses both teaching and learning (Freire 1998)” (pp 197). This is an important factor that all teachers must remember in order to bring for a great learning experience and journey for their students and their parents.

                                                                   Citation

 Davd Aloyzy Zera, Fall 2002, “What is a System and system perspective?”

Molly Ewing and Troy D. Sadler, November/December 2020 “Socio-scientific Issues Instruction”, The scienceTeacher.

Dana Frantz Bently and Mariana Souto-Manning, March 2, 2016, “Toward inclusive understandings of marriage in an early childhood classroom: negotiating (un)readiness, community, and vulnerability through a critical reading of King and King”, Https://doi.org/10.1080/09575146.2025.1104899

Nancy Darling, 2007 “Ecological Systems Theory: The Person in the Center of the Circles”

[loruleanheart]

Desired Fate, Chapter 7

Read on ff.net

Read on AO3

The ceremony to inaugurate the Champions was the first formal event of its size that had been held in some time. The only other event of this magnitude was the Queen’s funeral when Princess Zelda was six years of age. An event that had mostly faded from her memory.

Everyone gathered in the sanctum with a few soldiers from each race to accompany their respective champion.

The Champions and Link were all dressed in a blue article of clothing Zelda had made for them. A skirt for Urbosa, a scarf for Revali, a sash for Mipha and Daruk, and a blue tunic for Link. 

King Rhoam gave a rousing speech. Even Zelda felt a renewed sense of duty. Everything felt normal and right.

The ceremony was to be concluded with the princess’s blessing to the hero and the sword that seals the darkness, and that’s when Zelda’s enthusiasm was curbed quite a bit.

Link knelt before her with the sacred blade at his back. Zelda could feel the eyes of the Champions, Impa, and her father bearing down on her as she gave a rehearsed, half-hearted speech. She wasn’t feeling worthy of giving such a blessing, but she got through it without incident.

Zelda concluded the blessing and gave a soft sigh of relief. She couldn’t help but glance at the back of her gloved hand. Her hand, where the power was said to manifest in females born to the goddess’s bloodline. If it would only awaken within her. 

Later, when everyone was winding down after the ceremony, Zelda sat alone on a concrete bench, watching the Champions enjoy a moment of rest.

What did they think of her? On the surface, they all seemed reasonably supportive of her struggle to unlock her power, but what did they really think of her?

How many times had she trained at the springs of power and courage? And soon she’d do it all over again. Again, most likely without success.  The failure and disappointment were taking their toll. She felt like she was a million years old, despite her physical age of a mere sixteen.

She was vaguely aware of the conversations of the Champions, but the Zora Princess caught her attention. Mipha was not so subtly gushing about Link, wanting to become stronger to fight alongside him. It seemed the poor Zora Princess was unaware that she’d been speaking loudly enough to gain Link’s attention and Mipha became flustered when he turned to acknowledge her.

Something inside Zelda twinged.

If only it were that simple...

Zelda lowered her gaze and pushed her mind elsewhere, fidgeting with the gold ring that secured her gloves.

oOo

Astor looked down at the back of his gloved hand. He tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of the table, the gold ring on his finger creating a gentle clinking sound. It appeared the Harbinger was still displeased with him.

Kohga knelt to offer the black Guardian a banana, the Harbinger slapping it away.

“You’ve really done it this time, little lord malice! It’s been three days and your Harbinger is still pouting like a spoiled child.”

Astor felt a headache coming on, not bothering to chastise Kohga for being so disrespectful to Lord Ganon. He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow, trying to clear his mind.

… twins...

The thought landed like a Guardian crashing through Astor’s mental wall. His heart rate quickened and he shakily pushed the thought away, not wanting to confront it, simply passing it off as an intrusive thought planted by Kohga’s earlier comments.

The prophet redirected his thoughts. It wasn’t lost on him that there was a huge celebration underway at Hyrule Castle. All of Hyrule was united against him and his destiny. Not even the Yiga seemed particularly invested, and why would they? They seemed satisfied with their current way of life.

And then there was her… The Princess whose power to seal Calamity Ganon away was dormant, yet she had spared him. She should hate him, fear him.

She was a fixture in his prophetic dreams as of late, and he wouldn’t dare speak a word of them to the Yiga Leaders for a multitude of reasons. They were already losing faith in him as it was. More distressing, he sensed these prophetic dreams were not of Calamity Ganon. No, these prophetic dreams were a stark contrast from the Great Calamity’s. 

He felt a most unwelcome feeling creeping in.

Could it be that she’s not fated to die? That’s why I failed… I... can accept that... She’s fated to unlock her power… No, no… Preventing her from unlocking that power is the least I can do…

“Hey prophesy man, you alright? You seem like you’re losing your bananas…”

“He never had any to begin with….” Sooga commented.

Astor barely heard them, his thoughts fixed on this new vision he’d been having night after night since he’d crossed her path.

The scene is a familiar one - Fort Hateno. In this vision, not only has she unlocked her power, but she’s taking down blights and Guardians with horrifying ease. She wielded her newfound power with confidence and glowed with a radiant, otherworldly light. Her movements were like a graceful dance. It was like watching a beautiful and powerful goddess destroying his entire world and leaving him in ruin. And he hated the thoughts and feelings this girl conjured up whenever he saw her or so much as thought about her. So this was the future? Did the Calamity even stand a chance? And what did this mean for him and the destiny he thought he had?

“Wretched girl….”

oOo

As the other Champions departed Urbosa came to sit next to a forlorn Zelda. The princess looked up, acknowledging Urbosa with a small smile.

“It’s been quite a whirlwind these past few days.” Urbosa smiled back.

“Yes, it has...” Zelda agreed.

Urbosa’s features changed becoming serious. “Zelda… You’re doing everything right. Feeling sorry for yourself certainly isn’t going to unlock any sort of divine power… But you know what? You never know what might trigger it to at last manifest. You just have to find that thing…  It may be something you could never have envisioned. Don’t give up.”

Zelda breathed in deeply. “Yes, that is my hope…”

Impa approached them along with Purah by her side.

Zelda nearly jumped when she saw Purah, waiting with bated breath for what the Sheikah researcher had to say.

“Princess. I think you’ll be pleased to hear that we did manage to uncover one new bit of information on your mystery man.”

Zelda lit up with a beautiful smile she couldn’t seem to hide, which didn’t go unnoticed by those around her, especially Purah. Even Link took notice and came over to join them.

The Sheikah woman handed Zelda the Slate. “Take a look!” She said a little too enthusiastically, either proud of her accomplishment or eager to see Zelda’s reaction. Impa shot her sister a withering look.

The Sheikah genius walked away, oblivious to what was about to unfold due to her bad timing.

Sure enough, there was a new true to life image. This one showed Astor with two Yiga foot soldiers taking a knee to him. 

Zelda’s smile faded a bit.

Astor… He truly is the center of all things Calamity Ganon…

“Well, well, well. Why am I not surprised?” Urbosa remarked.

Zelda’s chest tightened, waiting for what Urbosa would say next.

“I must admit, I feel responsible given that Gerudo Desert has been home to the Yiga for a long time now. I’ve been far too lenient with them.” 

Zelda relaxed a little. Urbosa still none the wiser. Urbosa was right, however. She shouldn’t be surprised by this development.

“No more…I think Vah Naboris will be indispensable in taking them by surprise at their hideout. It would be a long time coming. Link… Impa… Will you join me in this mission?” Urbosa asked.

The two nodded their approval.

Zelda was stunned, feeling left out of the discussion on what should be done. “Then... I will go as well,” Zelda interjected, prompted by the knowledge that Astor might be at that hideout.

“But, you’d be in danger as you’re their primary target. They’ve tried to kill you, little bird, so now I will crush them beneath Vah Naboris’ hoof.”

What could she say to convince her? Zelda put on a brave face. “Look Urbosa, as princess of Hyrule this is my fight.”

Urbosa gave Zelda a warm smile. “I can see you possess unmatched courage and determination. You remind me of a certain Hylian Vai I used to know.”

“My mother?”

Urbosa nodded. “This still does not sit right with me. I wouldn't feel right putting you in harm's way. This will be an extremely dangerous mission. Not to mention, you’d be a liability for everyone, especially Link who is charged with guarding you.”

“But, I…” Zelda began, realizing this was not an argument she could win. Urbosa’s words stung, but it was true, she’d already wandered off from the group once before and nearly paid with her life. So there really was nothing more she could say without raising Urbosa’s suspicions. Already she was feeling guilty for suggesting she go.

Urbosa’s expression softened. “Sorry… I know that was a sore subject for you, but my stance on this is firm. Don’t worry, little bird, with the might of Vah Naboris, I will raze the Yiga Hideout and anyone left will meet a swift end by my blade.”

Zelda held back the growing dread in the pit of her stomach. She gripped the slate a little too hard, her knuckles going white.

Goddesses, why couldn’t Purah be more discrete… I know this is the right course of action for Hyrule, but…

Zelda shuddered in defeat. Link and Impa caught the princess’s glance. Link held the same imperceptible expression. Impa was watching Zelda, her brow furrowed. The Sheikah advisor gave an audible exhale and dropped her gaze.