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#flash redemption (sort of)
idk-bruh-20 · 2 years
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Irondad fic ideas #102
When Flash first overhears Peter talking about the "Stark Internship," he rolls his eyes and thinks, "Of course he'd go with that excuse at Midtown School of Science and Technology."
Whatever. Flash knows the truth. He's seen the car that Parker gets picked up in, seen the body guard / chauffeur and the absolutely insane amount of discrete safety tech he always has on. Flash is convinced that the whole orphan thing is just a cover story and Peter secretly has parents at least as rich and influential as Flash's own.
Maybe they're politicians or the mob or something, and that's why all the secrecy. Honestly, Flash is doing him a favor by bullying him all the time for being an unimportant orphan. It's the perfect cover. Maybe he'll even drop the ridiculous Stark Industries lie and come up with a more believable backstory soon.
Then, one day Flash and Peter end up in a kidnapping situation.
The kidnappers take Flash's watch, but they leave some of Peter's tech since it's better hidden. As soon as they're alone, Flash expects Peter to hit that panic button and get them the hell out of there.
Only... he doesn't? Did Peter learn nothing from K&R training? Flash reaches over and hits the secret panic button 3 times immediately, no hesitation. Peter is shocked. Flash is like, "Oh come on, I obviously know your secret."
He's kind of curious and excited now to see who Peter's secret parents are, once the cops get them out of there.
He is not at all prepared when Iron Man bursts through the door.
He's even less prepared when Tony Stark steps out of the suit and totally freaks out at Peter, hugging him and checking for injuries.
... maybe he's finally met Peter's secret parent after all.
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macabr3-barbi3 · 2 months
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if it interests you, I’d love to see what you do with alastor/dog sinner reader. I think it could be a very interesting dynamic- anyway good work! :)
HI ANON SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG LOL
I ended up combining this with another request from Ao3: "please please please I'd love a rough/teasing/edging (with a lil hate to love twist) oneshot i bet it would be another amazing read owo" from liddlefangirl
Tags: edging, rough, hatesex(?), teasing, Alastor Does Not Like Dogs™️
AS ALWAYS an extra large and mushy thank you to @fraugwinska for being a lovely hype-woman and my Alastor dialogue mentor 🥰
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Things were bound to come to a head between you and Alastor eventually- the nature of your Sinner form had guaranteed that when it manifested you with features similar to a dog, the floppy ears of a Beagle drooping off the sides of your head and a sensitive nose to match. 
Charlie had apparently seen no issue with allowing a dog- a hunting dog of all things- in the confined spaces of the Hotel with the deer demon, and his discontent with the situation struck fiercely and often, out of Charlie’s sight, usually in the form of a wayward tentacle tripping you down the stairs or some kind of Eldritch magic moving doors and hallways around so you ended up hopelessly lost and unable to find your room.
Alastor himself avoided you like the plague, only interacting with you when absolutely necessary and with his cane held in front of him like a barrier, like he thought you would attack him unprovoked- even though it was him doing the antagonizing, constantly fucking with you, and the one time you had asked him about it?
“You are quite welcome to leave at any time if the nature of the Hotel is not to your liking!”
The bastard. And even though it wasn’t like you, even though you were at the Hotel for redemption and everything and things like petty revenge should have been beneath you while you tried to improve yourself, you couldn’t resist pushing back a little.
You knew he had some sort of trauma with dogs from his death, so you weren’t trying to actually terrorize the man. You just didn’t let his bullshit get to you anymore- if he tripped you down the stairs you stopped sending a death glare over your shoulder at him, just standing up, dusting yourself off, and suppressing your limp until you were out of sight; when you found yourself in a twisting corridor that you knew hadn’t been there before, you simply picked the closest door and entered it like that was where you had meant to go the entire time. When he took the doors away entirely and just dropped you into an endless hallway with no entrance or exit, you plopped yourself down on the floor and took a book from your pocket to read until the lights went back to normal and the doors returned, indicating his departure.
You even played up some of the more canine aspects of your personality just for his benefit; you scratched at your ears whenever he entered a room; you sometimes barked or howled instead of applauding during some of Charlie’s meetings; you teased Husk incessantly, sometimes playfully ‘chasing’ him around the bar before Alastor left the area, always sure to apologize afterwards and make sure the avian cat knew that you didn’t mean any real harm, that you were just fucking with Alastor a bit.
But as with any war, sometimes there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed from either side.
You’re walking carefully through the kitchen with a couple buckets of water for Niffty when you spot the shadow snaking out of the corner, and you’re not quick enough to sidestep it this time. You land hard on the floor, covered in hot soapy water, and when you see Alastor watching you from the doorway with that fucking smirk on his face and lowered lashes something in you snaps- the harsh bark of anger that rumbles from your throat is entirely genuine, as is the fear that seems to flash in his eyes before his smile grows cruel and he snaps his fingers.
There’s a muzzle around your face, the straps of it far too tight and digging into your skin before you can even get a chance to try and tear it off, and the yip of pain that escapes you hurts your sensitive ears combined with the laugh track that comes out of Alastor’s microphone.
“Ahh, isn’t that a sight? Muzzled at last, as every wretched mutt should be.” Apparently the sight of the muzzle makes him brave- he steps closer, reveling in being above you. “You know, in my time the strays weren’t even allowed indoors- how kind of Charlie to open the doors of the Hotel to you and the infestation of fleas that you’ve no doubt brought with you.” 
In lieu of a verbal response, you take advantage of his proximity and swipe at his ankles with your foot- his shadows don’t have time to react and catch him before he’s on the ground beside you, caught in an awkward crouch as he tries to flee before he’s fully landed. You snarl at him, sharp teeth bared behind the wire of the muzzle, still able to be seen and heard even if you can’t use them on him as you pounce, tackling him flat to the wet floor. 
Whether it's the shock of the move or something else, you’ll never understand why he doesn’t call on his shadows to assist. Instead, he lunges back, flipping your positions around, water splashing and scattering as the two of you essentially wrestle on the floor, harsh words and snapping teeth as you both try to bow the other into submission. He manages to get the upper hand, pinning you to the floor by your wrists, both your breathing heavy, sweat lining your brow, growling low in your throat while you try to wriggle out from under him. “Take the muzzle off,” you say.
“So you can bite me? I think not.”
“Take. The fucking muzzle. Off.” You stay locked in a dead stare, and when he doesn’t make any move to get off of you or reach for the straps of the contraption on your head you try once again to twist loose, managing to get your feet up under you to try and buck him off with your hips like some kind of wild horse. It accomplishes two things, neither of them what you wanted to happen.
First, you become aware of a dampness to your panties that is not just a result of your tumble across the wet floor; the fight-or-flight instinct combined with the adrenaline of the impromptu fight on the floor, ending with you pinned under a strong, powerful (sexy, even if he’s an ass) demon, means that your body has completely misconstrued what was happening here.
The second is that Alastor becomes aware of that the same moment that you do.
His eyes light up with malicious interest. “How interesting,” he murmurs, taking in the light tremble of your body, the likely dilation of your pupils and how hard you’re breathing. “Not just a feral mutt but a bitch in heat as well it would seem!”
Shame warms you from the inside out, burning in tandem with the arousal making itself known with the flush of your skin. “Fuck you,” you hiss through your teeth, but it’s weak, needy rather than demanding like you intend it to be. “Just- get off me, let me up-”
You continue to try to get out from under Alastor, attempting to buck your hips again to dislodge him. Quick as a whip there’s a tentacle wrapped around your wrist when he lets it go to dig his fingers into the skin of your hips, keeping you bowed nearly in a bridge. Your legs tremble from the strain of the position, and when Alastor presses his own hips down to meet yours you can’t help the cut off moan that escapes you at the feeling of his heavy erection pressing against your core.
“Get off? Are you quite sure?” He grinds against you, making you whimper when the drag of his cock through his slacks rubs under your skirt, against where you’re wet and sensitive. “You know, the one good thing about dogs is that they can be trained; by either rewarding them with a treat, or by whipping them into submission… perhaps there’s a mutually beneficial arrangement that can be made for us, depending on your preference on the matter."
“I’m not making a fucking deal with you,” you mutter, turning away from him, and a new tentacle slips around the other side of you to grab at your wrist so Alastor can release that one as well, using his now free hand to twist your face to meet his eyes over the cage of the muzzle.
“Who said anything about a deal? It’s a proposal- we can continue as we have been until you inevitably aggravate me to the point that I rip you apart, Charlie’s opinions on the matter be damned.” He lets go of your face to trail his hand down your throat, squeezing softly before continuing a path down your body to rest on your other hip, dragging your body up against his and properly slotting one of his thighs between your legs. “Or you can be a good dog and let me be the master with a firm hand that you seem to so desperately need to straighten your... flaws out, and make you at least bearable to have around my Hotel.”
When you hesitate, he taps the bars around your mouth. “I’ll even take the muzzle off at the end,” he says, “permitted that you prove to me that you can behave .”
And it shouldn’t be hot, the way that he says that; like you’re some unruly fleabag that needs to be fucked to act properly, like you were the one causing problems instead of just reacting to the ones he was creating. But the pressure of his leg against your sensitive clit, even through both of your layers of clothing, is sinfully delicious, and you can’t help but wonder what exactly Alastor as a ‘master’ would entail.
You force your muscles to relax, going slack against the Radio Demon, and he smiles wide and dangerous as he lowers your back down to the puddle of cooling water beneath you, still clinging to the faint lemony scent of the cleaner that Niffty uses. “Good girl,” he says quietly, and the praise floods your brain like a drug. “Obedience is a treasured trait in a pet, don’t you think? Even in one that’s a brazen tart- the slightest hint that I’ll touch you and you acquiesce so easily, how lovely.”
He releases his grip on your hip to reach up and rub your ear between his fingers; the action makes you whimper in your throat, the soft skin there thin and sensitive as he pays attention to it, slowly stroking while the thumb of his other hand rubs arcs across your stomach where your shirt had ridden up in the tumble across the floor. His touch sends shivers through your body, a perceptible tremor that he sees and delights in in his wild grin is anything to go by. “Go on,” he encourages, his fingers not ceasing their movements. “Tell me you’ll be obedient. Tell me you’ll be good for me.”
You grit your teeth behind the muzzle and nod as well as you can with his hand on your ear. Saying it out loud felt like a step too far, would feel like losing something to him.
Both hands tighten their grip, the prick of claws against your skin forcing a gasp from your lips. “Even young puppies can follow a basic command,” he mocks, and the hand on your hip shifts to dip below your waistband, his fingers quickly finding the slick heat of your cunt and rubbing teasingly along your entrance. “Come on now, don’t you want a treat? Speak.”
“Fuck you- yes, I’ll be fucking good,” you mutter, and he tuts in disapproval, pressing hard against your clit before starting to retreat. “Wait, no-”
“I won’t repeat myself again,” he says lowly, hand poised to exit your panties, possibly to leave you soaked and wanting on the kitchen floor as he disappears into the shadows.
You glare at him, even as the words bubble from your throat in desperation, wanting his dexterous fingers on your pussy again. “Yes, I’ll be good for you.”
His grin sharpens. “Lovely. And I am a man of my word…” His fingers return to your folds with a fierce vengeance, his thumb swiping hard against your clit as one of his thin, strong fingers dips inside, followed swiftly by another as they press against the sweet bundle of nerves inside you and stroke the soft skin there with unerring accuracy and pressure. The action makes your body tense, a rush of heat through your entire being as he rockets you towards a swift and sloppy orgasm with little more than a couple fingers and his hand rubbing the skin of your ears.
His gaze is fire as he looks down at you, the weight of his erection still straining his pants where it rests against your thigh as he crouches above you. “Who could have guessed it would be so easy to get you to listen to me? Why, had I known you were such a desperate harlot I may have taken your metaphorical leash in hand a bit sooner if that was all it took!”
You can’t respond as the pleasure builds in your body, shaking and whining in your throat as your orgasm builds, fingers inside you never ceasing in their movements as your walls clench around them. You won’t give him the satisfaction of crying out, biting your lip behind the muzzle to suppress the sound as well as you can; you’re helpless to the force of your release as it grows, cresting, and-
Alastor pulls away, his fingers pulling out of your fluttering hole, the slick of your arousal trailing out along with it before he brings his hand to his mouth. You can see the hint of his tongue darting between the digits as he cleans them, oblivious- or uncaring- of your incredulous stare at your ruined orgasm, so close you could fucking taste it before he ripped you back from the edge.
“What the fuck, Alastor?”
“I can’t have you making a mess already,” he says, your pussy clenching around nothing as he sucks on his fingers as if in thought. “Wouldn’t that be a shame?”
“‘A shame’ is not letting me fucking finish,” you snarl at him, his grip on your ear preventing you from being able to turn away, tentacles still keeping you restrained so that you can’t finish the job your goddamn self. “Get off me, I’ll fucking do it-” 
“I have no need for a naughty pet, you know,” he murmurs quietly, and the tone of his voice makes you freeze in your half-hearted struggles to get free. “Perhaps if you can learn to ask for what you want instead of simply expecting me to give it to you we might get somewhere! What do you say, my dear?”
You start to nod by default before remembering his earlier command- speak. If you wanted to cum it would be best to do as he asks. “Yes,” you say, and he tears your panties from your body and positions his fingers. “Please,” you add on a moan when he delves back into your wet heat, repositioning so that he can grind his erection against the soft skin of your thigh again.
“Let’s see if you can do this correctly this time,” he muses. “Be sure to use your words, darling- tell me when you’re about to finish.”
And he’s back to the task at hand, pistoning his fingers in and out of your drenched cunt with unerring precision, stroking that spot inside of you that made your breath come quicker and your body start to tense again. Too soon you can feel the orgasm creeping back up on you, tears budding in your eyes as the pleasure and the pressure becomes too much, too fast. You’re tempted- so tempted- to ignore his demand, to just race towards completion and damn the consequences if you could cum before he realized it was happening and stopped again. Then you think about the way he had called you “good girl” earlier and despite how much you hate him and this situation, you want that again.
You crave the praise, the rush of endorphins and pleasure that it sent racing through your head. It’s the thought of this that has you choking out, “c-close,” when the edge gets a little too near; instead of pulling off entirely, Alastor merely slows, brings down the intensity of his actions enough that you can breathe, the wave of ecstasy fading before it can crash.
“So you are a quick learner,” he says, something like pride in his voice, and he finally releases his grip on your ear; the disappointed whimper that escapes you at this doesn’t go unnoticed as he trails his hand down your body, cupping your breast while his fingers continue to pump slowly, too lazily to bring that buzz back to your limbs. “There might be hope for you yet. Shall we go again?”
And again.
And again.
You lose track of how many times he does this- bringing you right to the brink, waiting for you to vocalize how close you are before he stops, repositions, and starts over. You’ve nearly cum on his fingers, tongue, and a tentacle that slithered up between your bodies, your words failing you the longer he denies you- he eases up on your shadowy restraints enough that you can reach up to grab at his clothing or hands once your voice seems to stop working, nothing coming out but a litany of moans and whines with no words attached to them. He reads your sounds like the words of a book, knowing exactly when to stop to leave you the most frustrated. His eyes rarely leave your face unless its to look down at whatever appendage he’s fucking you with, his cock still constrained within his slacks, hot and hard where he ruts against you when he can.
This time, when he lets you come back from the edge, his fingers drop to pull at his belt, the metal clink of the fastening loud in the kitchen as he pulls himself free, prick flushed a deep red and the slick sheen of precum beading at the tip, stroking down the shaft with a hiss. His smile is strained, a faint tremor to his expression and limbs from holding out on his own pleasure for so long. “Is this what you want?” He asks, low and dangerous, rubbing the head of his cock against your folds, the evidence of how many times you’ve almost cum dripping from your core to the drying floor.
You nod, barely able to speak, to do much more than cling to him for dear life and jerk your head up and down in the affirmative.
He cocks his head to one side, an eyebrow arched even as he presses forward with his hips, the tip of him a blazing heat where he rests against you. “You can do better than that,” he says, “or has all our training been for nothing? Beg.” 
“Please,” you whisper, your voice a broken, raspy thing in your throat, and he purrs in satisfaction, bucking his hips as he uses a hand to bring a leg up around his hip. 
“Please what, dear?” Alastor takes his hand off his cock now, an experimental thrust against you sinking the tip of him inside you, the stretch of it burning in the most delicious way even with how long he had been preparing you. Even he stops to take a moment, a low hiss escaping his lips at how tight you are around him. “Go on- no more edging, this is the last time, and you’ve done so well thus far. Such a well behaved mutt, aren’t you? Tell me what you want.”
And even with the barbed insult in there, the pleasure of his words zips through your body like a bolt of lightning, the floodgates of your voice open and overrun. “Please, please, Alastor,” you whine, and with every word he presses harder into you, spearing you on his length with every cry from your mouth. “God, please, fuck me- please, I- let me cum, I need it, please-”
Alastor finally bottoms out inside you, the heavy weight of his balls slapping against your ass as he grips your hips with an almost possessive ferocity. “Good girl,” he growls, leaning forward to lick and suck at the delicate skin of your throat. It should be frightening, his sharp teeth so close to your jugular, but all you can think about is how fucking perfectly he’s stretching you, the harsh bolts of pleasure that spark through your body and make your head fuzzy as he pulls back only far enough to slam back in, hitting that spot inside that he had been teasing with his fingers and tongue for however long it had been now. “We might make a proper pet of you yet, darling- fuck, you feel too perfect.”
It’s the first time he’s vocalized his own pleasure the entire time, the first bit of praise meant for how your body makes him feel and not just how well you can follow orders. It swims through your brain like the buzz of whiskey, another wave of arousal crashing through you and reflecting in the gush of wetness where you’re connected with Alastor. The feeling of it makes him curse again, eyes glowing black and red as he pulls back and watches you, your mouth open and panting behind the wire cage of the muzzle. You can feel the faint ache of the marks he’s left on your skin, where his teeth had nipped and drawn traces of blood that pool in the soapy water below you. His body snaps sharply each time he thrusts into you, chasing his own orgasm through your body as you cling to him, unintelligible sounds that only seem to spur him on as they fall from your lips.
Another orgasm builds, one that Alastor has promised to actually give to you, and the ‘training’ has been effective enough thus far that your mouth is open before you can consciously think about it. “Close, c-close, please, Alastor- gonna cum, please let me, I’ll be good, fuck-”
“Do it,” he demands, a hand releasing your hip to brush over your swollen clit, sensitive and sore but fuck it still feels good, gives an edge to the need that has you clenching hard around Alastor’s length. “You’ve earned it, so well behaved for me- for me alone, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, yes- please please please, fuck, I-”
The ability to speak leaves you with a well timed and well angled thrust as Alastor fucks into you, fingers rubbing at the sensitive nerves at the apex of your thighs at the same moment; the world beyond the fluttering of your cunt around Alastor’s cock shatters and dissolves into nothingness. You just barely register his own harsh grunts and a couple pulses of white-hot heat inside you before he pulls out, the rest of his cum dripping onto the bare skin of your pussy and combining with the mess you’ve made from your own release.
Slowly the feeling returns to your limbs, everything in your lower body still faintly clenching and twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, having been kept at the edge for what felt like hours before you were permitted to take the final leap. When you finally open your eyes, Alastor is still knelt between your thighs- he uses a couple of fingers to scoop the mess of his cum from your skin and push it back inside, the feeling of it making you shiver. Once he’s satisfied, he rubs his thumbs in small circles against the skin of your inner thighs, and it takes a moment to realize what he’s doing.
“Are you fucking- that’s not lotion, asshole,” you say weakly, head falling back against the floor, and he merely chuckles and continues to smear the remnants of his release against your flesh.
He stops, tucking his soft cock back into his pants and doing his buttons back up. “I thought ‘marking one’s territory’ was a dog behavior- one would think you would be flattered! Though I suppose you can always wash it off- you do shower, yes?”
You kick weakly at him, not too irritated when he steps away. You fix your skirt, pulling it down over the evidence of your afternoon. “Fuck off, yes I shower,” you mutter, trying to rise to standing and glaring at your shaky legs when they won’t comply. “Trust me, first chance I get I’m going to- hey!”
Alastor pulls you to standing with his hands under your arms, the motion sending you careening into his chest. He stares down at you for a moment, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your neck, fingers carding softly through your hair. Your pulse stutters and increases as he leans in- was he going to kiss you?- and your eyes clench shut, waiting…
There’s a clink of metal, the straps of the muzzle loosening at last and letting the cage fall from your face, landing neatly in the grasp of a nearby shadow. “I did promise to take the muzzle off if you could behave,” he murmurs. “And you’ve shown me you can- well done.” He steps away then, the muzzle vanishing with a snap and the wrinkles in his clothing straightening out. “I should be off! I put off quite a bit of work for our… training,” he says with a smirk, and you feel the blush light up your face. “Do come see me if you think you can handle more- there’s always more treats to be had for a good pet.” He drops a hand to the top of your head, pats a couple times like one might to a real dog, and fades into shadows just as Niffty appears in the doorway of the kitchen. 
She wrinkles her nose. “Phew, it smells like wet dog in here! Did you spill my water? You better not let Alastor find out, I don’t think he likes you very much!“
“Don’t worry, Niff- I need to have a word with him soon anyway,” you mutter. “Let me help you clean this up…”
She fetches the mops, leaving you alone in the kitchen to wonder exactly how open Alastor’s offer to come see him for another ‘session’ was. Judging from the laughter you can almost hear echoing from the shadows at your furious blush when Niffty returns and notices a spot on the floor where Alastor's cum had dripped out of you onto the tiles, you'd say the next time couldn't come fast enough.
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stairain · 1 year
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Vegas Redemption.
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You spot Spencer at a hotel lounge alone, you see has a ring on his finger, but that doesn't stop you.
Warnings: Dom + Rough Spencer, sort of switch reader, brat reader, light drinking, cheating, his wife is cheating on him too so don't worry, cunnilingus, hair pulling, mentions of Spencer getting reader pregnant. 
WC: 7K
A “business trip” is what you had told your friends, when you packed your bags for the weekend and all too eagerly got on a plane to Vegas. After all, being coined the “city of sin” and going just for business seemed foolish. 
Adorned in elegance and dripping in determination, you made your way from your hotel room to the bottom floor with a fiery look of pursuit in your sultry eyes. 
You're walking through the cozy and sultry atmosphere of the hotel lounge, the bar immediately catching your eye. It wasn't because of the wide range of drinks they had on display, nor was it the colorful light fixtures they had installed above said drinks. It was because a beautiful stranger was sitting alone at the bar, keeping to himself as he sipped on his drink. 
You waltz over to him, subtly going to sit a few seats away from him, you couldn't pounce just yet.
He sits at the bar, drinking quietly. The only sign that he's noticed your presence is a slight turn of his head to the side, his eyes fixed on his glass in front of him. He keeps his back straight and his hands on the counter. When you sit close to him, his eyes look up at you and he smiles briefly before taking another sip of his drink. His expression returns to complete indifference when his eyes return to his glass, and he takes another slow, deliberate sip. The drink is probably an expensive scotch.
As he raises the glass to meet his lips, you squint and look at his finger. A ring. The man was married.
But that did nothing to deter you, in fact, it only made you want him more. You would make him yours, he wouldn't belong to whatever woman sported the other ring, not after tonight.
After you order a drink of your own, you slowly get up from your seat, and migrate to the one directly next to him. A playful smile is plastered on your face.
You can see him look at you briefly as you move closer, and the corner of his mouth lifts very slightly - the barest hint of a smile - before he returns his attention to his drink.  He doesn't say anything, but you notice that he sets the glass down more gently than he needed to, in a way that shows he doesn't mind having you close.
You tilt your head to the side a bit as he doesn't immediately look at you, but still flashes the tiniest smile. "What brings you here? Business trip, vacation.. an escape, maybe?" 
Your tone is teasing, insinuating that he was here to get away from whatever wife he has at home, whatever wife he would inevitably be taken away from anyways.
He looks up at you when you speak, the faintest smile on his face, and he runs his thumb along the edge of his glass in the most casual way, as though he's doing it purely out of idle habit.  His eyes scan you for a moment, his gaze stopping over your face and body for just a moment too long before returning to the glass. He seems completely relaxed. His tone is calm and almost lazy when he speaks, and he almost seems amused by you.
"An escape."
Bingo. That was the exact answer you were hoping for. You lean forward a bit and choose your next words carefully. 
"From what.. or who..? If you don't mind me asking, Sir."
The only response you get at first is a faint quirk of his lips, followed by a slow sip of the scotch in his glass. When he's finished, he sets the glass down and looks at you with a mild amusement in his eyes. 
“What's it worth to you, darling?" His voice is low and soft with a hint of a sarcasm, his hazel eyes studying you calmly, with just the slightest flare of interest lurking just beneath the surface of that studied calm.
The bartender hands you your own glass, and you raise it to your own lips, licking over them in a teasing manner before taking a small sip. 
"Everything, depending on your answer."
He lets out a low chuckle after you speak, and you can see a trace of genuine amusement in his eyes now.  His eyebrows raise in a playful way, as though he's impressed, but his tone remains calm when he speaks. 
"Is that so? Very well then."
He turns in the barstool to face you, leaning in casually and running his right palm over the back of his neck for just a moment before he stops. 
"My wife is cheating on me."
You can't help the wicked smirk that creeps on your features at hearing that. Your eyes flash from his ring, back up to his mysterious eyes. Taking another sip from your drink, your other hand reaches out to touch the ring on his finger. You don't say anything.
His smile only grows with your smirk, and you can see the playfulness in his gaze deepen slightly as your hand reaches out and touches his ring. His dark eyes never leave you, and you can see that playfulness in the faint quirk at the corner of his mouth and the twinkle in his eye, as though you both know that he's not planning on staying married for much longer.
"And you want a chance to replace her, don't you?"
His tone is neutral, but there is an undercurrent of amusement in his voice. Something in his expression dares you to say it aloud.
Quickly looking up at him and stopping your movements, your smile only grows. Your touch retracts from him, and you lean back into your own seat. 
"What are my odds, sir?" You say with a cocky tone, lifting your glass to your mouth.
He laughs, as though he appreciates your boldness. You can see the amusement in his eyes grow, and it's clear that your confidence is having a definite effect on him.  His voice is tempting when he responds, and the corner of his mouth tilts up in a teasing smile. 
"Very high, as long as you play your cards right, sweetheart."
"If you're the one dealing the cards, it seems I've already won.." 
The tone in your voice has significantly lowered, but the confidence and cockiness never left, if anything, it only grew. This man would be yours, and by the end of the night, you'd hope to pawn that ring of his and buy him a one way ticket to your place.
He smiles at you as he takes another sip of his drink, holding his position for a moment before he leans a little closer and speaks in a soft tone.
"Now darling, it wouldn't be any fun if I just gave the prize away so easily, would it? Do you know how to play your part, or do you need me to help teach you?" His voice is quiet with a hint of an invitation in it, his smile playful and teasing as his eyes scan you from top to bottom.
"Tell me what to do, and I'm yours." Your chin lowers as you stare at him right in his own piercing eyes, as if trying to challenge him.
His tone is low, and you can hear the amusement still in it when he speaks.  He meets your gaze, his eyes glassy with desire, and he pauses for a moment before the corner of his mouth curls up into a wicked smile. He leans even slightly closer as he speaks, and his voice is a purr.
"Make me want you, darling.”
"Already done, Sir." You arrogantly lean back in your seat and take a sip of your drink, looking unamused.
He laughs at the cockiness in your voice, his smile growing. In the corner of your eye you notice a couple of other people have turned to stare at both of you, and you can tell at least one of them is intrigued by the scene unfolding between you two. Your confidence seems to be having that effect on people.
"So you've already caught my attention, then? That's half the battle. Your next move will have to be enough to make me want to keep you."
"Tell me the part you want me to play then, sir. I don't mind a challenge."
He lets out the ghost of a chuckle.
"Tell you what..." He reaches into his suit coat and pulls out a business card, leaning forward as he sets it on the bar between you. His expression is relaxed, his eyes studying you calmly, and his tone is serious as he speaks.
"How about I invite you to my hotel room? That way I can show you exactly how badly I want you."
You swallow at his words, and pick up the card, trading it for the glass in your hand. 
Dr. Spencer Reid. 
You look back up to him and nod.
"Lead the way, Doctor.”
He smiles at you, his gaze roaming over your face and body again before he nods towards the door. "My room is on the top floor." He stands up from the bar, waiting just long enough for you to get up as well before he begins to walk towards the door and makes his way to the elevator, his movements deliberate and confident. 
"I expected no less from a man like you, Sir." You follow behind him like a dog, trying to keep up.
"Then I expect no less from a girl like you." His shoots back and he reaches out as you follow him towards the elevator to give you a wink. His eyes dart up and down you in that subtle way he had, and his eyes linger on your legs for even just a moment too long before he pulls the hotel room key out of his suit pocket and swipes it through the elevator, waiting for the doors to open before he steps inside, holding the door open as he turns to look at you expectantly.
You walk into the elevator silently, and stare up at him longingly as he walks in and presses the top floor, then stands right next to you. The stretch of his arm, his tall back, it was already driving you mad. There's desire running all throughout your body, and you don't know if you could wait the entire ride up to keep your hands off of him. He no doubt would be able to feel the utter desperation radiating off of you. 
His eyes never leave you as he presses the button for the top floor, and you can tell that he enjoys the effect he has on you. You can see that it only adds to his allure for you, and the closer you get as the elevator rises, the harder it would be for him to resist if you were to start kissing him right now.
And so he doesn't resist. It's not a second longer until his hands are cradling your head, and your hands are grabbing at his wrists as he pulls you in a fiery, passionate kiss, right in the middle of the elevator. You're taken aback, but that doesn't stop you from trying to kiss him back with the same possessive passion he's pouring into you.
He leans against the elevator wall and pulls you in close with a passion that takes you off guard, the sudden heat of his kiss and the feeling of his hands in your hair taking you by surprise and sending electric shocks through your body. The elevator dings to alert you that you've arrived at his floor, and it takes a moment more before he pulls away from you. His gaze is intense as he looks at you, a low moan rumbling in his throat as he looks at you hungrily.
He licks over his lips once, and swallows. 
"You taste like heaven."
It takes you a few seconds to catch your breath and compose yourself after the dizzying kiss, and you breathlessly laugh.
"Just you wait, sir.."
He chuckles, and you can see that the kiss has left him visibly flustered as well.  He takes your hand and leads you out of the elevator and to his room.  He unlocks it with his key card, but before he opens the door he turns to look at you with a sly smile and raises an eyebrow.
"And just what do you mean by that, darling?"
"It wouldn't be any fun if I just gave the prize away so easily, would it, Sir?" You repeat his previous words back to him, and shoot him a wink. He lets out another low chuckle. 
"Well played, dear." He opens the door and steps back to let you go first, and he closes it behind you once you've entered. 
You walk in, not before flashing him a playful smirk. As you step in the room, you're immediately met with such a luxurious atmosphere, it almost makes your jaw drop.
The room is luxurious, with plush carpeting and elegant furniture.  He gestures to a comfortable-looking chair across from a small coffee table, and as he's letting you take in the room he leans against the wall and crosses one long leg over the other. 
"Make yourself comfortable, darling, I'll mix you a drink." His tone is still teasing as he looks at you, and he gives you a quick wink as he turns to the built-in bar to grab the decanter of scotch and two thick glasses.
You nod and try not to let your awe take over your entire mind, you were here for a reason. As you sit down, you turn your body to watch him, and you lick your lips at the sight of him in that suit of his, fixing a drink for the both of you.
Spencer smiles when he sees that you're watching, his tone teasing as he speaks.
"Enjoying the view, are you?" He turns back to the decanter as he pours the whiskey into the two glasses, and he looks at you over his shoulder with a look in his eye that suggests you might enjoy him even more once he takes off the suit jacket and tie.
“Too much, Sir." You bite your lip.
“I can fix that, if you’d like…” He turns around completely to face you. He’s holding the two glasses in his hands now, and he flashes you a knowing look before leaning forward and setting them on the coffee table.
He starts to unbutton his suit jacket, but he doesn’t move to take it off yet. His attention is focused on you, as though he’s waiting for a response before he proceeds.
Your eyes snap to his skillful fingers as they push off the buttons of his suit, and you find yourself looking at him with pleading eyes as you give him a gentle nod.
He smiles at you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he finishes with the buttons so the suit jacket comes off cleanly and easily. He drapes the jacket over the arm of the other chair, and he flashes you another small, taunting smile before he starts to undo the buttons of his dress shirt.
“Would you like me to take this off as well, or save it for later?” His tone is teasing as he speaks, and you can tell that he’s enjoying this exchange as much as you are.
"Keep it on, sir." You softly command before leaning over and picking up the glass from the table. Your eyes travel up and down his body as you take a sip.
He smiles when you command him, and you can tell he likes the control.  He reaches out to grab the other glass, still watching you with soft eyes. His voice is content when he speaks. 
"Well then, darling..." He leans forward just enough to place a kiss on the back of your hand, and he looks at you with an expectant smile, his tone tempting as he speaks. "What would you like to do, now that we're alone?"
You subconsciously rub your thighs together, and lightly moan the slight friction it provides to your aching clit. You sigh and smile up at him. "What happened to a challenge, sir? Seems like you're giving it up quite easily for me.."
"We both know you're the prize.  So.." He gives you another one of his playful winks, taking a sip of his scotch as the two of you look each other over with a faint smile. His eyes flash down to your legs and he tilts his head to the side, looking over your body again with fervent interest as his expression falls into a dark smirk.
"I think the challenge will be seeing who gives in first."
You set your glass down on the table at his words, then suddenly you're grabbing at his tie and pulling him closer to you, making him stumble a bit. 
"Let's see how long you last then, Doctor."
He lets out a soft laugh as you pull him closer to you and he reaches up to place his hands on your hips. His eyes take you in again, and the smirk on his face only grows with every glance.  In this moment he's focused entirely on you, and the desire he has for you is palpable, filling the room and growing with each lingering look he gives you.
"Let's see how long you last, darling."
A smirk is all the warning he receives before you're capturing him in a passionate kiss. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his lips on yours again, and you feel his hands reach out to cradle your face.
He leans into the kiss, his hands holding you close to him and his grip slowly tightening throughout the kiss.  The passion in his eyes matches your passion, and the feeling of his tongue against yours is intoxicating. For the moment, there is nothing else in the world that matters except the two of you, and as he pulls you closer he lets out a soft moan against your mouth that sends a shiver down your spine in the best way possible.
You feel the cold metal of his ring pressing into your skin, and your expression quickly turns into a scowl at the feeling. It was mocking you, he was yours now. Without pulling away from the kiss, you use one hand and grab his, and pull the band off of the digit, before throwing it off.
He lets out a soft laugh as you take off the ring and throw it, his kiss never falters and he wraps his arms around you as he continues to hold you close.
"Oh, sweetheart..." His tone is playful, and you can see the smile in his eyes grows even more as he holds you close. His lips are still close to yours as he speaks in a low voice, and you can feel the rumble in his tone. 
"You're mine now, sir. Forget her." You yank on his tie once more and pull him back in for another intense kiss.
He lets out another soft laugh as you pull him back in for another kiss, one of his hands sliding down to smooth over your ass as the other gently cups your face. He's still very clearly enjoying this, and as he lets out a small groan against your mouth he pulls away just long enough to whisper his next words in your ear while his hands slowly tighten their hold on you.
"What is it that makes you want me so badly, darling?"
Your hands move to the back of his neck as his lips start skimming along your skin, pressing gentle kisses against your neck, and licking over your collarbone. Your eyes flutter shut as you respond. 
"Saw you sitting alone.. Thought you were so handsome.." Your mouth drops open in a moan when he nips at the flesh of your throat. "Then, saw the ring... Just made me want you so much more, just knew I could treat you so much better than she does."
He lets out a soft laugh, and you can feel his lips grazing your neck. The feeling is like a live wire, sending shivers down your spine in the best way possible. You moan again, and the sound is enough to send a thrill throughout his entire body. 
"Is that so?" As his lips brush your skin you can feel the heat in his breath, and he kisses you again, pulling you even closer now. "Is that all it took for you to be ready to take me home?"
"Worked.. didn't it?" You cockily mutter out, your words accompanied by a moan.
"Oh it definitely worked, darling..." He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes watching yours flirtatiously, and he makes no attempt to hide the desire he has for you. "So tell me, sweetheart,  what is it I get out of this arrangement?"
As he speaks, he moves both of you so he's sitting on the couch, leaning back against the cushion as you're planted in his lap. 
"You leave your wife.. come back home with me, and I'll be yours forever..." You reach down to play with the buttons of his dress shirt, slowly pushing them out of their loops.
His eyes watch you as you play with his buttons, and a smug smile spreads across his face. 
"You drive a hard bargain, darling..." He laughs once more, taking in the sight of you as the buttons come undone.  He has no intention of stopping you as he speaks. "And what will happen if I say no?" 
You give him a small faux pout at his words, you know he's not serious, he's already too deep in this that he can't possibly be serious.
"You really want to leave this hotel room tomorrow, go home to your cheating wife, and think about me for the rest of your life? Wishing it were me in your bed at night, the one you wake up to.." 
You lean down to his ear as you seductively whisper your next words. 
"The one you get to touch, kiss, and taste..?"
He lets out a soft moan as you lean in and whisper in his ear, causing a shiver to run through him as he pulls you even closer to him.
"You're good at this, you know..." His voice is deep and seductive, a playful grin on his face. "I think I'd rather stay with you, darling."
“You’d be stupid not to, Sir..” You lick over his ear, sending tremors through his body at the feeling.
Spencer lets out another soft moan, his body shuddering from the feeling of your tongue on his ear.  He leans back and watches you, a mischievous look in his eye as he's trying to see just how far you'll go.
"And what if I was stupid..?" His tone is still unserious, as if testing you, but he's starting to take charge of the situation now, pulling you closer with his arms and pressing you onto his lap as he leans in and gives you his own passionate kiss.
“You wouldn’t be in this hotel room with me on your lap right now if you were stupid, Sir.” Your hands go to lift the bottom of your dress, teasing him. “You know you made the right decision taking me..”
His eyes flash down to the bottom of your dress as you start to tease him, and his eyes flash back up to yours. He whispers his response in your ear, his voice starting to take on some of that familiar authority and intensity as you continue to tease him.
"Then why don't you help me make sure I never have reason to regret my decision, darling?"
Nodding, you take his large hand in yours and run it under the satiny fabric of your dress, allowing him to caress the soft skin of your hips and waist. As his hands touch your body, you go to finish unbuttoning the rest of his shirt.
He lets out a soft moan as his hand touches your hips, moving his hand up and down your body. Your skin feels so silky under his touch, he could touch you forever as long as you let him.
You can see his eyes looking over you, and he's making good use of every ounce of his self-control to keep from taking you here and now.
"You're not making this easy for me, you know...  But I suppose I'll let you continue." His voice is soft but there's still the ever-present hint of playfulness, and the hint of authority that he's starting to let bleed into the conversation.
“You want it off, Sir?” You let one of the straps of your dress fall from your shoulder, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.
The man bites his lip, letting out a low groan as you start to let your dress fall, and you can see the desire in his eyes is only growing.
"It's killing me, darling..." His tone is heavy with desire, and his expression is full of want. His eyes are glued to you, and you can tell that all he wants in the world at this moment is to have you, right now, right here.
“Take it off of me then, Sir. Earn your prize.” Your voice is low, teasing, and almost cocky. You’ve already taken him from his wife, and now all you wanted was for him to take control over you.
His eyes watch you with intensity as you speak, and he raises one eyebrow in amusement. "Make me work for it, is that it?  Well, I don't mind a bit of a challenge..." He bites his lip once more, and he lets out another low moan as he moves his hand to move your dress the rest of the way off your body.
His hands are moving slowly but purposefully, as if taking his time to admire every little piece of skin he revealed. He lets out a low shiver and a soft moan as he takes in the sight of you in your body, his hands trembling at the sight of you. You can almost feel the electricity fill the air between you as you let him admire every inch of you.
His hands are moving slowly but purposefully, as if taking his time to admire every little piece of skin he revealed. You bite your lip at the primal look in his eyes, and lift your arms when the dress reaches your chest. His eyes land on your bra, and the way it looks like it was made for you, filling the cups deliciously and fitting you absolutely perfectly.
"Why don't we make this a little easier for you, sweetheart."
Spencer practically rips the rest of your dress off your body then leans forward to you into a kiss again, pushing you down onto his lap against the firm bulge in his dress pants. He takes in the smell and sensation of you with that look of desire in his eyes that says everything. 
You let out a small huff when his eager hands practically rip the dress off of your body, but you lean further into the kiss as you moan into his mouth at the feeling of him under you.
He lets out a soft laugh at your noise of frustration, but the laugh dies in his throat as you moan into his mouth. He holds you there for a moment, his mouth moving eagerly and messily with yours, before he pulls away and pulls you closer by your waist to hold you to him. His heartbeat is pounding out of his chest as he presses your burning hot skin against him.
You can feel the heat in his eyes as he looks you over, his breath growing heavier as he gives you a look of pure, unbridled desire, his mind starting to fill with filthy arousal and lust. 
"Now.. I think I'd like to see what's under that bra first.."
He whispers, his tone still full of desire as he looks you over, as though he's trying to memorize every inch of you.
You don't move, just give him a look of bratty defiance.
"If you want it off, you'll have to take it off yourself."
Spencer laughs at your defiance, clearly enjoying your brattiness, and you can feel his chest rumble as he breathes in and out. His eyes start to travel down your body again, and he bites his lip in want. 
"So be it, darling."
There’s an edge of authority to his tone that says you may be in trouble if you continue to refuse. 
You’re willing to challenge that. 
You raise your brow at him and your tone is entirely too sassy towards a man who you know can ruin you and your body in an instant.
"Then get on with it."
You cross your arms over your chest.
He lets out a low chuckle and a sigh at your response, but he doesn't back down. He leans in and speaks in a soft voice, his eyes shining a bit with a light-hearted threat.
"Don't test me, sweetheart.”
His words are playful and his tone is full of desire but you know he's absolutely prepared to follow through on whatever threats he makes. Despite the threat you can see an amused smile on his face as he's watching to see what you do now.
He sighs but you can tell he's enjoying your defiance, his expression going to a smirk as he looks you up and down, watching you with a hungry eye as he drinks you in.
"I suppose this is what I get for letting a brat like you be my mistress..."
He lets out a soft laugh and gives you another taunting flash of his smile, his tone is suggestive once more and his fingers reach around your small frame to find the clasp of your bra. He’s starting to undo the hooks as his other hand begins to move down your body in anticipation for what will come.
“I’m not your mistress.. You don’t belong to her anymore, you’re mine.”
"Oh, is that so, darling?" His voice is full of amusement, and you can see the glint in his eye that says he's more than happy to play along with your bratty game.
"So what does my sweet little girl want from me, then?" His voice is low, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and lust. 
“What she wants is for you to hurry up and undress her." He pulls your bra off of you, and throws it over the arm of the couch, his eyes traveling from the bottom of your breasts back up to your eyes as a grin spreads across his face and he leans even closer to you.
"And what's she going to do if I take my sweet, sweet time?" His words are hushed and accompanied by a playful smirk as he raises his eyebrows at you and you can feel the burning desire in his touch as he moves his hand lower and lower. 
"Then she would ask very nicely for you to hurry up." You let out a soft laugh and try to not let his touch down your stomach and waist distract you.
He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes shining with amusement as he moves his hands around your body. He's clearly enjoying the show, and he's in no hurry to take your clothes off, instead taking his sweet time getting there.
"And even if she asks very nicely,  what will I get in return? You have to bargain for these things, sweetheart, you know..”
His touch is gentle but insistent, as his hands move closer and closer to the waistline of your underwear.
"I'll give you whatever you want, Sir." Your body trembled with shivers at how light his touch was on you, almost like he wasn't even touching you as he inched closer and closer to your panties.
He lets out a soft chuckle at the answer, his hands continuing to move as they reach the waistline of your panties. 
"We'll see about that, darling..."
His voice is playful, but a little part of you feels the threat in his voice, too.  He clearly wants you very badly, and it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility that he's not completely joking.
Unexpectedly, Spencer reaches into a cabinet sat next to the couch, and rifles through it for a moment before pulling out scissors. Your eyes widen in confusion and disbelief, and the expression only intensifies when he slots the blades of the scissors between your hip and your panties, and snips. You'd almost swear his eyes are shining a little brighter as he drinks in the sight, being so impatient to take you that he’s cutting your underwear off your body.
“S-Sir..” 
You try to reason with him, but it’s far too late. He’s in his own little world as he continues to cut and snip at the delicate lace of your panties, not bothered by your words nor your noises of protest.
There’s nothing you can do but sit there, trembling in his lap as the look of determination and sadism shadows his face. The freezing metal of the blades against your skin do nothing to help your shaking, and it makes the very skin it presses against raise in goosebumps. 
Once he’s cut through the lace on both sides of your hips, he sets the scissors down on the table and pulls off the remnants of your underwear with ease. He’s got a sinister glint in his eyes and in his smile as he gathers them in his hand before setting them on the table next to the blades. 
“You know, she would’ve never let me do that.. But you..” Spencer laughs wickedly, it almost frightens you. “You.. You’d do anything to make me want you, wouldn’t you?” 
You find the bratty attitude you were sporting earlier fizzle into a blazing desire of obedience. Like you weren’t in control of your own body, you nodded. Your lack of speech made him laugh again. 
Suddenly, you’re wrapping your legs around his waist as he’s lifting you from the couch and into his arms. You cling to him like you’ve got no other choice, and can’t help but feel exposed in front of the large glass window. 
Spencer walks over to the large bed pushed against the wall and throws you down on it, and as you land, your legs are spread, as if on command. He bites his lip at the sight of you spread for him, cunt leaking arousal onto his bed sheets, sticky slick coating your beautiful thighs. 
You swallow and watch as he pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his forearms, and runs a hand through his hair before kneeling down in front of you on the bed. He grabs under your thighs and hooks them around the tops of them, flashing that same teasing smile he’s been sporting all night. 
You let out a small yelp of surprise when he’s pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, so your pussy was pulsing right in his face, just the way he needed it to be. 
“This what you meant when you said ‘Just you wait?’, darling?”
His breath ghosts over your wet cunt, and it makes you let out a small sigh of pleasure. You don’t respond, you know he’s not looking for an answer, he’s just looking for a way to stroke his ego, knowing he’s got you right where you were so reluctant to get to. 
“What happened to that smart mouth of yours?” 
“Come fuck it and find out.”
Spencer huffs in amusement. 
“There you are..” 
Is all the warning you get before he’s diving in and burying his scruffy face between your thighs. Your legs threaten to close at the feeling, but he’s already a step ahead of you, holding them down in his strong grip as his tongue licks a long stripe up your cunt, collecting your essence. 
A loud moan is pushed out of your throat at the feeling, and your hand instinctively reaches out and down to grab at his messy hair. He only groans at the feeling though..
You’d have to explore that later.
But for now, you couldn’t focus on anything else except the way the thick, wet, muscle of his tongue was swirling around your sensitive clit, sucking and kissing at the nub. He was teasing you, you both knew if he kept this up, you’d be cumming on his face and around his tongue in no time, and you didn’t want that. 
You couldn’t embarrass yourself in front of him like that, especially when you know how much shit he’d give you for being able to make you finish that fast. 
And still, your head spins with each calculated and tortuous movement his tongue makes over your pussy. He moves down to slide his long tongue into you, finally. You whimper at the feeling and clench around him. 
Spencer eats at you like a starved man, and you’ve been pushed to believe that maybe he is. With the way he’s tongue fucking you.. making you gush on his lips and drip down his chin? You can tell he’s needed this for a while. 
You lift your head from the bed to look at him, and you can see he’s already staring daggers into you. He shoots you a wink and it almost makes you roll your eyes at his cockiness.  
“Why- oh fuck.. Why don’t you fuck me, sir? I know you want to..” You pant out and grip his hair harder, twisting it in your fist. It makes him moan into your cunt, and the vibration makes you gasp. 
He pulls back for a moment, and speaks quickly, like he’s been preparing his answer for a while now. 
“Because.. If I fuck you now I won’t be pulling out, can’t get you pregnant til’ I leave my wife, darling.” 
And you thought you had been the one to be moving fast. Your legs jolt and your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking his cum into you, pushing it deeper and deeper into your womb until you’re full. 
The thought of him fucking a baby into you has you whimpering in a panicked frenzy, you were far too close.
“Fuck fuck fuck, sir.. I’m- I’m right there..”
You moan and are pulling at his hair now, it was no doubt painful, but he couldn’t let you know how much he liked it just yet. At your words, he nods from between your legs and his eyes flutter shut. 
The movements of his tongue in your and his lips on your folds increase in speed, intensity, and passion. He’s swallowing every spurt of arousal you have to offer him, and fucks you with his tongue quicker than you can even process. 
You reach a hand down to play with your clit, but just as quickly as he was fucking you, he just as quickly pulls away with a scornful expression pulling at his eyebrows. 
“W-Why’d you stop…? Please sir..” 
Spencer moves your hand from your clit and plants it back into his hair, making you grip at the root tightly as he lowers himself back onto you, and murmurs in a controlling voice. 
“Hands off, your body belongs to me, sweetheart.”  
And with that, he’s attaching his lips around your aching clit, and begins to suck at it like it’s his job. It makes you throw your head back in a silent moan, the pleasure robbing you of your ability to speak or make noises, and even think.
Your mind goes entirely blank at the feeling of him pulling the sensitive nub between his lips and using that stupid mouth of his to bring you to the edge all too fast. 
With a pornographic moan, you’re drenching his mouth and chin in your release, your thighs spasming in a desperate attempt to balance out the surge of pure unfiltered arousal that was forced out of you.
Spencer’s greedily swallowing every gush your cunt pumps into his awaiting mouth, and he just can’t seem to get enough. He’s moaning uncontrollably against your pussy as he drinks in everything you’ll give him, and if you weren’t absolutely losing your mind at your orgasm and spilling moans of your own, you’d be enjoying his noises a lot more. 
But now, it seems like your body and your release are the only things on both of your minds. You’re shaking, clenching your thighs around his head as your fist pulls so irresistibly at his brown locks. 
You’re the one to push him away, and you can’t help but laugh at the sound of absolute dissatisfaction he produces at being denied any more of your release. And you’d be more than content to let him at it, if you weren’t gasping for air and hopelessly shuddering at the after effects of no doubt the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced. 
He’s suddenly laying by your side and pulling you into a desperate kiss, and you can feel the stickiness of his chin against yours as he eats away at your lips. It makes you pull back to chuckle and attempt to catch your breath again, and after a few beats of silence you look around at where half of your garments are torn and destroyed, and you look at him with a pout. 
"You ripped my dress.. And my underwear.."
Spencer laughs and rests his head back against the sheets, and you can see his chest rising and falling, he was quite breathless himself. 
"I'll buy you an entire new wardrobe, sweetheart, anything you want.." 
1K notes · View notes
flowerygrdn · 2 years
Text
WHAT THE FU- || k. parker
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pairing: kai x vampire!reader
warnings: swearing, kissing, fluff, obsessive!kai (sort of)
summary: y/n is on her way to the sheriff's funeral when she gets an alarming call from alaric...
a/n: hello, so i used the deleted kai and jo scene for this because, let's face it, that scene deserved kai's redemption.
---
I could hear my heels clicking on the pavement as I walked towards my car. My head was currently tilted downward towards my purse as i was trying to dig out my keys. This is why I need to clean out my shit more often. Aha! I finally found them. After about five minutes of digging.
Suddenly, my phone starts ringing. Now I have to dig that out of my purse. Damn this bag. Once I retrieved my phone from my bag, I saw the screen lit up with Alraic's name across it.
"I know, I'm running late. Can you tell Caro-" I start, but was immediately cut off by Alaric.
"y/n, I need you to get over to Jo's place right now." His voice is urgent and I immediately stop right in my tracks.
"Why? Alaric, I need to be at the funeral right now."
"y/n, just get over here! You'll see why I called you when you do." I didn't know what to do with that. I didn't want to disappoint Caroline by not being there, but Alaric sounds like he's desperate.
"Okay, but I swear to God if it's something stupid, like you got your hand stuck in the sink, I'm gonna be so pissed." I say as I open my car door.
"y/n!"
"Stop your whining, I'm on my way." I hang up and change the gear to drive. Alaric better have a good excuse.
---
I get to Jo's apartment and open the door. I have no clue why it was unlocked. Do they not care about serial killers? My heels click with every stride I take towards the living room and soon enough I'm at the doorway.
"Alright, what was so impor-" I stop in my tracks when I see a devilish smirk from across the room. Along with the stupid expression, I get a little wave. My eyes shoot over to Jo, who's now standing there, giving me a look of pity.
"What the fu-"
"y/n, save it for a better time." Alaric says, putting his hand up to hush me.
A better time? The best time to swear would be right about now. When Kai Parker is standing there, smirking at me.
"This is why you called me here?! Jo can I please kill your fiancé?!" My eyes begin to darken and veins flash under my eyes. My vamp side comes out when I get pissed. Jo immediately comes over to calm me down.
"Okay, calm down. y/n, no one is killing anybody. We just called you over because we knew that if you were here, my asshole of a twin wouldn't try anything." Jo turns her head over her shoulder and sends Kai a glare.
"She's right." Kai shrugs, still not whipping that stupid grin off his face.
"You! I do not want to hear another word out of your mouth!" I demand. His hands go up in defense.
"Yes, ma'am. " he mutters under his breath.
"Why me though?!" I shout some more.
"Because he's obsessed with you." Alaric responds, rubbing his temples. Kai winks at me. I roll my eyes and try to walk out, but Jo pulls me back.
"y/n, please. He claims he's sick, so can you please come with me to my office so we can check him?" Jo's voice makes me calm down a little bit. I've always kind of seen her and Alaric as close friends, family even. So, if me being here ensures their safety, then so fucking be it.
---
Me, Jo, and Kai walk into her office and Jo leads us to one of the rooms.
"Motus!" Jo says as soon as the door closes. I see Kai fly across the room and hit the wall. She then does that one spell that makes your head feel like it's going to explode. It nice to be on the opposite end of that for once.
"Talked to Dad. Guess who's not sick? Him, Liv, and I'm feeling pretty good right now. Which leads me to believe I'm not gonna die anytime soon. So, what's your game?! Tell me!" She shouts.
"I don't have a game!" Kai shouts back. "God!" He shouts again before doing the same spell to her. I fall down next to Jo, grabbing her arm and trying to think of a way to help her. He stops when I make eye contact with him. I'm pretty sure my vampire face flashed because, he looked a little scared.
"As much as my suffering might bring you two pleasure, this is not the way to handle the situation." He stands up and starts towards us. I help Jo to her feet and dust off my dress.
"Is this all just a ploy for you to get more magic?" Jo's tone is an accusing one, and Kai's face twists into a serious one. A face I've never seen before.
"It's a ploy for us all to stay alive, actually. I'm sorry if that seems selfish!"
"I don't believe you! Because you are a liar. And you are the worst kind of liar because your lies sound so much like the truth, it's impossible for me to tell the difference. " That's something me and Jo agree on. No matter what faces I've seen before, Kai has never shown an honest one.
"You're right, I am a liar, alright? I'm the black sheep. You know, the defective twin that nobody wanted." His voice cracks and this gains my attention. Something about me is that, even without compulsion, I can tell when someone is being sincere. And for once, Kai is.
"It must feel real nice for you to stand her, judging me. Surrounded by all the things you got out of life while I spent eighteen years in isolation as the family reject." His eyes flash over to me before returning to Jo. I never thought I'd be saying this right now, but I kind of feel remorse for Kai.
"Let me tell you, every inch of me wants to kill you for that. Every part!" I slowly start to step in front of Jo, but she pulls me behind her instead.
"But I can't. Because the only way that I can survive is if you help me. And I'd like to live, frankly. Because I didn't get to do a whole lot of that before everyone decided that I wasn't worth it."
There it is again. The feeling of remorse for the man in front of me. His words made me realize that he wasn't born a monster. His coven made him that way. All because he was different. Malachai Parker is evil, but maybe there's a part of him that isn't. A part that can consume the evil and make a whole new person.
"I'll give it to you." Jo replied.
"But under one condition. You take it and get out of my life. I never want you anywhere near me again." She spits out.
"Fine."
"I'm not finished. If you break our promise, I'll kill you." My head snaps towards her.
"I'll take myself and our entire coven down with you. Because I don't want to live another minute, afraid of my own brother." I'd never have thought Jo would do that, but given everything Kai did, she has every right. But something inside me hopes, prays even, she never has to do that.
"You got it?"
"Got it." Kai looks over at me again. My eyes have softened, and I'm now starting to see a whole different person when I look at him. He brushes past us and walks out of the door.
---
After Jo gave Kai her magic, He was out the door in a heartbeat. Not before whispering one last thing in her ear. I quickly say my goodbyes and run after him.
"Kai, wait!" He turns around while standing in the middle of the parking lot. His hands are in his pockets, and his lips part at the sight of me lightly jogging. When I stop a few feet away from him, my words suddenly exit my mind. I have no clue what to say.
"You know, I always thought that the only thing that would make me happy was being coven leader." Kai starts. My eyebrows scrunch. I don't know where he intends to go with this.
"The day I met you in the prison world, I started feeling things. After I merged with Luke, I started feeling even more things. And then it dawned on me." He started taking steps towards me. My feet stay planted in the pavement below me and my stomach twist into knots. I don't know what I'm feeling but, I don't want it to stop.
"Sure, being gemini coven leader is amazing. The power, the title, it's all I've ever wanted. But, then I met you. You are what I've always wanted. Well, maybe not always, but from the day that I met you, you were all I wanted, no, needed." He stops in front of me. My breath gets caught in my throat.
"It's always been you, y/n. And I know you hate me. I know I'm just another monster that you and the gang had to face, but to me, you are my world." What is happening right now? Why are his words having this effect on me? Why do I want him closer? What the actual hell?
"When you're happy, I'm happy. When something hurts you, I want to hunt it down and destroy it. So, hate me. Help your friends plot my death. But just know..." His hand comes up to cup my cheek. I flinch, but don't take his hand away. For some weird reason, I like the way his skin feels against mine.
"I'll love you even if I'm in hell." Holy shit.
Kai Parker loves me? How? Why? What the fuck?! Wait...no there's no way...do I love him too? All I've ever felt for him was disgust, but maybe that was just a cover-up. Because what I'm feeling right now didn't just happen within the span of a few hours. I guess it's always been there, I just didn't see it before.
He leans down and kisses my forehead then turns around. He begins to walk away, but I don't want him to. I can't let him.
"Kai!" He stops and turns around again.
I don't think. My body is moving before my mind can process it. My legs are taking long strides, and soon, my arms are thrown around his shoulders, and I'm pulling his head down to mine. Our lips meet in the middle, and his hands quickly find my waist.
Passion. Sparks flying everywhere. That's what I feel when I'm kissing Kai Parker. His hands are moving up and down my back and mine are racking through his hair. We only pull away when we're about to run out of oxygen. We keep our heads rested on each other's and try to steady our breaths.
"I love you, Kai." I feel his arms tighten around my waist. He let's out a breath that sounded like he had been holding in.
"I love you to hell and back, y/n." He says before capturing my lips in another passionate kiss.
---
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seaskate · 2 months
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"Not all men are created equal"
That is one of the first things were hear Izuku say. Its bitter and realistic for his place in society, it's the sort of voice that inspires the villian deku fics that were really popular a few years ago. We lost this cold view of the world when he got a quirk, as if the canon him forgot his roots as he was no longer the 'quirkless loser'. The only time we see anything like it is in small flashes when he's feeling low.
And I'm glad that he became more confident and brighter, but one of the things that I like about the more angsty mha fics (hero, villain, vigilante, doesn't matter) is that fic deku doesnt forget, he remembers what it feels like to be treated even worse than those with villian quirks, or mutant type quirks, and that's his reason for change. So that no one else ever has to feel so powerless.
A symbol of hope rather than a symbol of peace.
Because peace is all well and good whole it last, but it wont last. Peace is a temporary thing and is usually broken by whatever problems the tentative peace itself created.
Izuku knowing this in fics, remembering it, acknowledging it even after being gifted a quirk, gives it a more realistic sort of feel. The same sort of 'oh' that readers get when they look at the villains in mha who are trying to destory the society the chewed them up and spit them out and everyone else watched. Izuku was there, he has more in common with the villains in that regard than sonenof his classmates, but outside of the Bakugo redemption arc that's kinda a forgotten thing.
Idk, it just feels as if he could have been a more complex character in that regard in the beginning. But a part if what makes the vigilante deku arc so appealing that people have returned to the fandom for it, is that he becomes a bit more pessimistic and realistic about the world around him once more, it just took a war to get him back to the start.
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ilikepjo24 · 8 months
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OMG FINALLY someone talks about Octavian If u don't mind me inputting this, but it's mentioned in The Hidden Oracle by Apollo that Octavian was duped by Gaea,, plus there's super strong parallels between Nero/Nero's Adopted Demigod Children and Octavian (that nobody addresses) and if that aligns with the absolute W takes you've been chugging out I think I won't tear my hair out over him tonight
Octavian was, in my opinion, the funniest dude character in Heroes of Olympus. He sounded like a demonic toddler mixed with your middle school weird nerd 🤣 This fandom should definitely take advantage of that comedic potential. Plus, he has no backstory, which gives us endless creative freedom. Why wouldn't I talk about him?
And if you scroll a bit on my blog you'll see that picking up stray aggressive, mean characters and defending them like my life depends on it is sort of my thing, so it was only a matter of time until Octavian caught my eye.
Unfortunately, I have not read the Trials of Apollo yet. I got the first book of that series during the winter holidays, and I haven't started it yet 😅 but I've seen a couple of spoilers, so I'd really want Octavian to have survived Heroes of Olympus and be in the Trials of Apollo. One of the reasons being that I didn't want him to die at all, but other than that, Apollo getting kicked out of Olympus and living amongst mortals and needing their help? Octavian would eat that up, I'm telling you.
He'd follow Apollo on his journeys and that would give him sooo much time for character development. Plus, being essentially "kicked out" of Camp Jupiter to be send to a quest with a god you user to be obsessed with but then sort of manipulated you could be written as a punishment due to Octavia's actions and could help trigger a redemption arc.
And all the prophets having issues with their powers because Apollo is not amongst the gods anymore? As an augur, that would affect Octavian as well. He may have had flashes of the future or all that other overwhelming suffering stuff we see other prophets have, and Lester would help him with that, while they also help other prophets.
Octavian surviving the Heroes of Olympus and being in the Trials of Apollo would be ground for character development, bonding dynamics, a backstory, a redemption arc, a healing arc, maybe a power up? 👀👀 There were SO many opportunities and it's a waste that Riordan threw that away.
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mushrubes · 11 months
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Another?
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Masterlist | Red dead redemption masterlist |
Requested : no
Based on character ai { Hosea Matthews by @/addynot }
Pairing : father! Hosea Matthews x child! reader, John Marston x matthews! reader
Pronouns : you/yours
Type : platonic / familial + fluff
Word count : 1.4k
Warnings : Swear words, familial, best friends in love, slightly ooc <3
Have a great day !! <3
——————————–
You stood still as Hosea cleaned the blood from your nose. He looked genuinely angry this time. You had a habit of getting into fights at school, but after this last one — your father seemed to be at his wit’s end. “I can’t believe you. I’ve tried so hard to get you an education and you go off and get into trouble.” He mumbled to himself, his hands gentle as he cleaned off your bruised face. He was extremely disappointed in you. "Pa, I'm sorry! It was deserved!" You defended, rolling your eyes. “I doubt that,” he argued. “You’ve told me before that every time you get into these things it’s ‘deserved’.” Hosea sighed. “Tell me. What happened this time?” he questioned. "O'driscolls. Two of them. Cornered me and they punched John after calling you and Uncle Dutch murderers so threw a punch at them and then the three of us started fighting." You explained.
Hosea rolls his eyes. “You know, you really shouldn’t go around throwing punches every time someone insults the gang.” He sighs again. “If I’m being honest… I’m almost scared to ask what happened to the O’Driscolls. How’s John?” he asked, the disappointment and concern evident. "They were threatening to get their guns out, and me punching them is too far? yeah, bullshit." You mumbled under your breath. "I think John's okay. I got him to go to Miss Grimshaw when we got back - he'll most likely have a black eye tomorrow." You sighed. “You don’t have to curse, kid. I understand the situation but what you failed to remember is that you’re only 16. You can’t go around throwing punches just because someone insults you.” Hosea sighs. “And as much as I don’t really like the O’Driscolls, I don’t think you should’ve punched them. That’s a good way to get yourself killed.” he shook his head.
Hosea sighs — a look of sadness and disappointment flashes through his face. “I know, love… I know. But, that doesn’t change anything; It’s still very dangerous to try and start fights with them. One day, you might end up picking the wrong fight…” He lets out another deep sigh. “You’re a smart kid. I just don’t want you to… do something stupid.” his voice softened, eyes full of love and concern for you, only wanting the best. "Whatever." you rolled your eyes, scoffing at him. “I’m serious, love. I don’t need to lose you the same way I lost your mother. I’m all you got right now, and it’s tough parenting a child in the gang. If anything happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.” Hosea paused, thinking. “Can I trust that you won’t get into another fight? Just while you’re at school?” he pleaded, wanting some sort of confirmation. "Yeah, sure." You huffed, getting up.
Hosea breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sweetheart. Just… please try to stay out of trouble. You’re the only child I’ll ever have, and I don’t want you to go the same way your mother did.” He looks at you, his face softening. “Just… just give me a hug, would you?” Your face softened and you gave in, hugging him tightly. You didn't even notice your tears staining his shirt. Hosea hugs you back tightly, holding his emotions back as tears begin to fall down his cheeks. “You’re… you’re the closest thing I’ll ever get to seeing your mother again.” He whispers quietly. “Don’t do that to me again, okay?” He holds you close, not wanting to let go. “I love you darling.” he caressed your head gently. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pa. I love you too." You whispered, wiping your tears. “I know, sweetheart. Just… just don’t do something like that again, okay?” Hosea holds you close for what feels like forever, not wanting to let go. Eventually — and reluctantly — he does. “Now go on, get washed up and get to bed. It’s late.” he said.
"Okay. Goodnight, Pa. I love you." you responded, kissing his cheek gently. “Love you too, sweetheart. Goodnight.” With that, Hosea shuts the door behind you — leaving you alone to get cleaned up and head to bed. You made your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting changed. You get changed into something comfortable, ready to go to bed. As you start brushing your teeth, you begin to remember everything that happened earlier as well as the promise you made to Hosea — not to get into any more fights. This was probably one of the last times he was ever going to be easy on you, you thought to yourself. He genuinely didn’t want you to get hurt. You smiled softly when you walked back into your shared bedroom, seeing John sitting on his bed "Hey loser." you called lovingly, making him look up in your direction. “Shut up, runt.” John replied back lovingly with a smile on his face.
“How did your talk with father go?” John had a cut on his eye, it was swollen and red — but it wasn’t too bad. He looked completely exhausted. "Usual lecturing. How's your face doing?" you asked, gently cupping his cheek, frowning at the cut. “Same as always, numb to the pain,” John chuckled, leaning in to give you a kiss on your cheek. This was always your relationship with John. You teased and bickered a lot, but you both cared for each other deeply. He sighs. “I just… can’t believe you punched those bastards. What if they did get their guns out?” he pondered, concern evident in his voice and on his face. "Was worth it. They punched you and insulted my dad and Dutch." You shrugged, not even hesitating, meaning every single word. “Still not worth it.” John argued — but you could tell he wasn’t being serious, he was just worried about you. “Hosea was worried you were gonna get yourself killed. He was on the verge of tears talking to you.” John pauses for a second to think.
“Just… try not to do this again… okay, love?” he asked. "They're lucky I didn't kill them for hurting you." You commented, sitting next to him on his bed. “I know… but they weren’t worth the effort,” John chuckled weakly. “Now, come here.” He motioned for you to cuddle up with him on his bed. “I’m too tired to keep arguing.” he chuckled. You smiled softly, cuddling up to him, head on his chest. John’s body was warm. It always felt safe and cosy whenever you cuddled up to him like this — his large frame was comfortable to rest against. He wraps his arm around you, holding you close as he kisses your forehead. He was so big and handsome, and it made you feel safe in his arms. "Hey John?" you called quietly, turning the light out so it was dark. “Yeah, love?” He looked down at you. You could see his eyelids were slightly heavy — he was half asleep. “What’s up?” He asked softly. "Y'know I'd do anything for you, right?" you whispered, nuzzling into him.
John smiles at you, feeling slightly amused by your words. “I have no doubt,” he chuckled. “What’s your point?” He pulled you closer to him, feeling completely comfortable with you by his side. "I love you. I know we're teenagers but…" You trailed off, a lovesick smile on your face. John looks at you, his dark eyes filled with love for you. “I love you too, darlin',” he whispers back — his soft voice echoing softly through the room. “I know we’re just teenagers… but I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you in it.” He pulls you even closer to him, his hand brushing through your hair. “We’re gonna get through this… okay? I promise.” he assured, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks. "me and you forever?" you questioned, intertwining your hands. “Me and you forever, my love. No matter what that means or where that takes us.” His words were sweet, he meant every one of them. John had done so much for you, he was so much more than your best friend — he was the person who you trusted and loved more than anyone in this world. He was, truly, your soulmate.
Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.
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shithowdy · 7 months
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I miss old skool Death Knight rp so much. I know there are classic servers and people who are still dedicated but I’m so checked out of WoW now. I came back to tumblr recently and all my old WoW mutuals seem to have had the exact same experience since 2018~2019 of just completely checking out of the game. Most of us seem to have quit even before the big Blizzard scandals.
But idk, I just get so nostalgic for Acherus. I don’t think I’ll ever get over Death Knights 💀 I didn’t play on US servers but I always wished (I could have joined you all!)
It really was a flash-in-the-pan type of RP that can never truly be revisited, and I miss it terribly sometimes. With the scourge plotline basically concluded not once but twice-over for good measure, the whole premise of the class loses its identity and casts them adrift and without purpose-- something for which they were always sort of destined, but with Shadowlands even things like the crises of faith and redemption and what happens when they finally let go and properly join the dead are negated. The uncertainty and fear of it all is what made them so interesting!
When I left the game, it felt like 90% of the RP happening was very "domestic"-- family dynamics, shipping, people having bake sales, exploration/travel, picnics, parties. It can be occasionally fun to see how a living weapon tries to fit into that sort of dynamic, but I personally found it quickly tiresome and unfulfilling as the moral quandaries of existing at all fell to the wayside. It's very hard to continue to RP someone grappling with their identity when all the other RPers are basically going "oh yeah i just drink a potion to stop the endless hunger so i can run my fashion business :)", and rather than mire in my lore snobbery I just... left.
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creepling · 1 year
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hi! happy 1k <3 may i request a piece with johnny x single mom reader + the prompt “will you stay?” “of course, i’m not planning on leaving anytime soon.”? i thought it’d be interesting if reader was formerly captured by the sawyer family, while she was on vacation with friends, but johnny relented and decided to let her go because of how badly she begged for her life & at the time her baby was only 2 months old, which she told him. so johnny being johnny as well, he was able to track her down a month later — at first just to check up on her, but he decided he wanted to help her raise her kid & kind of switch up his life since the baby’s father is (willingly) out of the picture. also reader is a young mom (early 20s), around the same age that johnny is, he’s just a lil older. they’re still warming up to each other/developing their relationship but to the reader’s surprise, johnny’s really good with kids & has done a lot to help reader out to give her a break? AAAA THIS IS A LOT OF INFO IM SORRY but i hope it makes sense & that you have fun with making something out of this <333
AAAA ok no but i love this, idk it makes sense for the sawyers to spare a victim if they have a kid?? the whole "family" motto would get to them lol. i love all your info but i apologise if i've missed out on anything. i've made this drabble more like a time passing sort of thing so i could include everything.
tags: angst. single-mum!reader. reformed!johnny. kid is gn (use of they/it). descriptions of trauma. johnny feels a lot of guilt. mild blood ment.
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“Drop the god-damn knife, Johnny. She’s got a kid for crying out loud!” Drayton barked.
Johnny’s adrenaline shot through his body, tensing his muscles and trembling his hands. “Is that true?” He growled, eyes shot out at your petrified stare.
You pulled a Polaroid picture out of your pocket, your bloody hands staining the corners. You beheld it to Johnny, trying to steady your shakes. Johnny gazed at the picture, the newborn clouded in white, its eyes closed in a peaceful sleep.
“My baby . . . My baby. I need to go home to my baby,” You sob, begging on your knees, hysterics maddening all parts of your manner.
Johnny’s knife dropped to the floor, and he thought about every bad thing he had done. There was no coming back from this.
It had been a month of silence. A month of sleepless nights and looking over your shoulder. Breastfeeding became agonising. Your baby’s cries sent you into uncontrollable alertness. Your hair was brittle and your skin shallow, the stress shivering through your body like a ghost entering your soul.
The letters came around that time. Off-white envelopes with a few dollars in cash. All that was left was a note,
For the Baby, I’m sorry.
Meeting him again after the kidnapping was an anxiety-driven step, bouncing your baby on your lap as you waited in the diner booth. You convinced yourself you lost your mind, wanting to rekindle with your kidnapper. But you hadn’t heard from anyone since the birth; the baby daddy became non-existent. Your family refuse to return your calls. The only person willing to help you was Johnny.
He was silent across from you for a while. The only words he uttered were to order from the menu. He shovelled down an apple pie while you bottle-fed your child, lulling them to their afternoon nap.
“Why are you helping me?” You remember asking. Visioning Johnny’s deep gaze, his subtle glances at your first-born, a tinge of sadness glazing his eyes.
He said he owed you too much. Your baby deserved to grow up with a male figure in its life, and you deserved someone to protect you. The sight of your youthful features withering away from stress, the permanent damage he inflicted on you, ached your eyes and down-turned your smile. It kept him up at night thinking about you, struggling with the fussing cries and flashes of his brute force. He wanted to step up. He was ready for redemption.
He drove you back home, watching over his new companions with careful eyes. His arm outstretched as he turned the wheel, hoping not to disturb the baby’s slumber. The rascal woke up eventually, full of energy the minute you invited him inside. “Would you like to hold them?” You asked, unable to ignore his loving stares.
He felt like crying, holding something so precious. Knowing he nearly orphaned this child, ridding it of a beautiful mother. He swore to protect the kid, holding its gentle head and leaning it into his chest. His gentleness surprised you, the warmth filling your smile for the first time in months.
Johnny never left the house. He hadn’t seen his family in months and had no plans on returning. Your little one was proliferating, and Johnny got used to using his strength to pry the ankle biter from dangerous objects. He ditched the knives and retired into swinging the kid until they were out of breath from laughter. He stepped up, got a job, and brought money in to keep you secure.
He was a different man, and he changed you as a mother. He repented for his sins. He begged for forgiveness with every stare your way, with every gentle touch. You finally forgave him, praying that his presence is destined to be everlasting.
“Will you stay?” He held you in his arms as you choked up, clinging to his body. 
“I’m not plannin’ on leavin’ anytime soon.” Johnny kissed the top of your head, his arms around you. Your loving touch soothing the aching heart he’s adorned for decades.
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Denial Is a Cruel Mistress
https://archiveofourown.org/works/51889249 by sabertoothhousecat “Hey Spider-Man!” Flash yelled down the hall at Peter. “Do a flip!” Peter looked at Ned who looked at MJ who raised an eyebrow. They seemed to reach some sort of agreement because Peter turned, shouted, “Okay!” back down the hallway and executed a perfect back flip. Literally no one noticed. Not a single person looked up from their phones or their stupid conversations or whatever they had going on. Flash was going to cry.  Or: Peter stops hiding his identity so much at school (for convenience, he swears). Flash is the only one who notices, and to his increasing frustration, no one believes him. Or: Flash is the Candace to Peter, Ned, and MJ’s Phineas and Ferb Words: 9292, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Peter Parker, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Academic Decathlon Team Members (Spider-Man: Homecoming), Tony Stark Relationships: Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Flash Thompson, Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Crack, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Good Friend Michelle Jones (Marvel), Michelle Jones is a Little Shit (Marvel), Good Friend Ned Leeds, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Identity Reveal, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, Flash Thompson Redemption, but only like the tiniest bit, and it's after much suffering believe me, Tony Stark Has A Heart read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51889249
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maybeimamuppet · 1 month
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Thoughts on Kylie George (if you have them? I didn’t know Regina had a little sister till today and am curious)
oooh okay
i can’t say i have many because she’s in like ten seconds of 2004 mg and nowhere else lmao
i usually include her in my fics (mostly as like offhanded mentions i think she’s shown up in person twice in my entire three year career writing for this fandom) just because i think she adds another layer of depth to regina. and frankly that’s what i think kylie is there for in the first place
in the movie she’s there to be sort of horrifying like oh my god this nine year old is flashing the tv and dancing to my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and it’s to really drive home how bad of a mother their mom is. because if a ~7-10 year old is doing this what were they getting away with at three? at six? and conversely what are they getting away with or in fact being encouraged to do as they get older? 10, 13, 16?
and in the 2004 movie kylie is the only person in her entire family that regina never speaks to with malice. it is literally two words but i still take that as an implication that they have a pretty solid relationship. i think kylie is a good driver for regina to make a turnaround because she knows how hard it is to be the way she is and she doesn’t want that for her baby sister.
i think kylie is a good angst potential in a lot of ways too. regina seeing her sister slipping down the same path and trying to stop it but she can’t. regina going through her redemption arc but kylie is only partway through her villain arc. regina actually managing to sort of guide her back to the light only to get hit by the bus and they both lose everything.
so uh in conclusion i wish she came up more and i don’t have anywhere near as much as some of the other characters to base my thoughts on but my heart breaks for her in much the same way it does for regina and i think she’s criminally unexplored in a number of ways :))
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edsheerankinnie · 3 months
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Ok im gonna piss of a whole fandom w this. but here we go lol
So ive been thinking abt She-ra lately (spop specifically) and ohmy god it fucking sucks. like i get so mad anytime i remember it, like and if anyone asks me abt it im gonna warn them do NOT watch this show FOR UR OWN GOOD. unless u dont mind an entire season of fanservice AND BY FANSERVICE I DONT MEAN NUDITY OR THE ANIME KIND, ILL GIVE YALL THAT, i mean specifically how they made catradora canon w virtually no other buildup than they were raised together and ooh they hate each other ouuh ;)) enemies to lovers oouogh🫦 like if ur gonna make a ship like theirs work its gotta have some sort of proper progression w their relationship right? But no, the ENTIRE time up until MIDWAY INTO THE LAST SEASON theyre constantly at each others throats like. its not even fun at that point, it just looks weirdly abusive and toxic. And hey, while were still here, catradora in execution is Such a bad ship bc like. They were raised together. by the Same Person. not even just under the Horde, theyre literally both raised by Shadow weaver. and before their rivalry and in several flashbacks their relationship moreso implicates sisterhood than anything. like idk i dont wanna get too bold here, but it just feels a little too close to !nc3st to just put them together like that?
Omg and lets talk about Fucking SHADOW WEAVER omg. like throughout the whole show were shown and told abt how much of an abusive parental figure she was to adora and especially catra right? But then at THE LITERAL VERY END, Shadow Weaver SELFLESSLY sacrifices herself to help catra and adora save the world. SHadow Weaver, whose entire essence was her desire for Power, who betrayed her own people to obtain it. Who's only semblance of a redemption was her working with the Princesses, just because she would be in a better position of power. no remorse whatsoever for how she treated the two as kids. Nevermind her fake-out to catra that one time, in fact that scene highlights just how easily she'll manipulate those close to her to get what she wants. and u expect me to just "oh wow shadow weaver is so noble for that! This is so sad! poor catra and adora, they lost their now-good mommy!" (again, *their* mommy, eugh). Like im having a hard time believing they were able to mourn her loss like that at all. We've seen them both have very complicated feelings about Shadow weaver. Ok well to be fair we didnt actually GET to see them mourn. which IS ALSO SOMETHING I HAVE ISSUE WITH
the SPEED AT WHICH THE 5TH SEASON RAN omg i HATED IT I HATE IT SO FUCKING MUCH. SO MUCH HAPPENING IN LIKE !) EPS OMG, and on top of that WE DONT EVEN GET A PROPER CONCLUSION???? U EXPECT ME TO BE SATISFIED W THEM ENDING THE LAST EPISODE 5 MINS AFTER SAVING THE WORLD????? And ohmygod DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON HOW THEY SAVED THE WORLD AUGHJLFDRCRJ IT WAS SO BAD Like girl i need SOME kind of CONCLUSION, not just "yay the horde is gone! sunshine and rainbows! bye bye!" GIRL WHAT THE FUCK??! WHAT HAPPENS AFTER??? I WANNA SEE THEM REBUILD ???? I WANT A FLASH FORWARD (AND NO ADORA'S 5 SECOND VISION WHILE SEEKING THE HEART DOESNT COUNT), I WANNA SEE EVERYONE ADJUSTING TO THEIR NEW LIVES. I WANT SOME SWEET SWEET BANTER. I DONT WANT TO READ A FANFIC DEPICTING ALL THAT BC THE CREW GOT LAZY. I WANT A NICE BASE FOR ALL THAT. U GET WHAT I MEAN??!?!?
I think i should mention that i am in no way shape or form homophobic or anything, i am literally the president of the fruitcake club, ok? but the catradora kiss was probably the worst canonization of a relationship in an animated series ever, period. Like really? while Adora's half dead?? and otherwise the whole world ends if u dont?? And with only 5 minutes of runtime left ?????? I am being edged. I am being edged in the worst possible way. I hate it so much. "Dont leave me adora! I LOVE you! I ALWAYS have!!" HUHHH???? U EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT????? "i love u too🥰" HUHHHHH???? GIRL WHEN DID THIS DEVELOPMENT HAPPEN??? U hung out for literally 3 DAYS and u expect me to believe u guys went from enemies to working out their issues to googoo eyes???? when there was HARDLY ANY OF THAT THERE TO BEGIN WITH???? also just the overall trope of "oh no the world is ending, if i kiss this guy it'll be saved" is sososo bad, idc if its a straight or gay couple, it is probably the most annoying trope ever. like gyattdayum i didnt know i was watching an old Disney movie. i thought this was an epic scifi my bad. Yall need a moment? Do u wanna fuck too? Maximize ur "power of love" slay so the world is extra saved? jesus christ. its the "true loves kiss" trope all over again. Like thats such a rude way to treat a ship too. I want to see it in action, i want to see real progression, ESPECIALLY bc its the main ship, not "ooh they might be gay!!11! ooh they might kiss :) oouhh" and then last second theyre like "btw theyre in love now ;)"
Like id *maybe* get it if there were time constraints like with TOH, id get it if they were like "the idea and concept were there, mr CEO wanted us to shut down the party." but from my research, they didnt really have any constraints like that. And im saying *maybe* bc like with TOH for instance, even though they were forced to cut the show in half, they still delivered everything to progress and end the show properly! They had an *afterword*! they had Lumity and Huntlow and Raeda!! And oh my god the progression of Lumity is so sweet and beautiful! we get to see their "enemy" phase, we get to see them fall for each other, we get to see them date, we get their First Kiss!! We get to see how much they care for each other!! And sure, on the flipside we dont really get to see Huntlow. But thats bc the show got cut before it could *really* take off. There was supposed to be a whole season of Willow and Hunter's hijinks while the gang was in Connecticut. There was supposed to be a whole season of the gang adjusting to Connecticut! We were supposed to see the Archivists involvement and the ultimate showdown in the 4th season!! But they had to be economical bc of the cut, right? So they made a montage of Connecticut, they made three separate, HOUR LONG episodes depicting what couldve happened in the 3rd and 4th seasons. we get to see Willow reciprocate Hunters feelings in the 2nd ep! And most importantly, we get a real conclusion!! we get to see everyone rebuild, we get to see how theyve adjusted, how their lives and relationships have changed. We get a satisfying moment for it all to sink in. we get to properly say our farewells to the characters. All loose ends are properly tied! The Owl House may not be in my top list of cartoons, but u have to admit, it has a very good and satisfying conclusion. And all that with such intense time constraints too.
Now dont get me wrong, She-ra and its characters is written incredibly well (mostly) and its LGBT/POC rep is a game-changer. Heck, i loved Scorfuma, and that was only crumbs of a side ship. And the character designs/animation/colors are absolutely gorgeous, like that is honestly what probably pulled me to watch this show. Im just disappointed in what couldve been, yk? It had so much potential. especially in its last season, it just feels like the writers had too much setup and didnt know how to resolve it. 2/10 would not recommend.
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vixensheart · 3 days
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Group activities were a mainstay in the hotel. Every single day, Charlie coaxed the residents into circling up in the lobby, all bright and chipper, with some new activity on the wings in an effort to push them towards redemption. Of course, Alastor always… encouraged …Husk and Nifty to participate, if only for his own amusement. Husk had made it abundantly clear from day one he had zero interest in actually entertaining this shit. 
It was stupid. Redemption. 
Husk didn’t see a point to it. He was in Hell, and he was in Hell for a reason. 
Sure, he got what Charlie was trying to do, to some extent. Help stop exterminations and all that shit. And, yeah, there was some logic to the madness. He just didn’t think it was gonna work out. 
But dammit all, was he determined to try, now. 
Which of course was how Husk found himself slouched on one of the plush, new couches at ten in the morning, fingers itching for a bottle of whiskey. 
Charlie and Vaggie stood at attention amidst the circle of couches and lounge chairs, a rolling white board behind them littered with papers and diagrams, the word vices written across it in black marker. Alastor sat perched in an armchair off to the side, the paper spread across his lap and a steaming cup of tea clutched in his clawed fingers, that stupid smile affixed to his lips, as per usual. The rest of the couches were taken up by Cherri, who was staring down at her phone looking bored as shit, and Baxter, who seemed to actually be paying attention.
Husk was pretty sure he saw a flash of Nifty’s reddish hair across the room. She was on the hunt for bugs—her usual MO, except with the added caveat that Nifty was absolutely certain the bugs were on some sort of strike or hiding from her or some weird shit like that. Which. Wasn’t the case. No, there just weren’t any bugs because the place was brand fucking new. He’d tried telling Nifty that once, but, it didn’t stick. Clearly. 
“Good morning!” Charlie chirped, hands clasped together. “Today’s group activity is going to be discussing our vices! Or, things we struggle with!” 
Cherri huffed, rolled her eye. “What, so you can tell me how bad it is to do drugs? Thanks, but no thanks.” 
“Yeah, well, you’re not gonna get into Heaven while addicted to crack,” Vaggie said, expression flat and arms crossed over her chest. “But, that’s not really the point of this. The point is to get some support. Talk about why you do it, what it’s actually done for you, if anything.” 
“I get high because it’s fun. There, activity over.” Cherri stood, as if to leave. But Charlie was quick to drift closer, hands in front of her as if placating a wild animal. 
“Okay! That’s a great start! Getting high is…fun. Why is it fun?” 
Cherri frowned. “Uh, ‘cuz it is? Why else?” 
And, Husk could hear Angel in his head on a loop, saying, it’s an escape, a way to forget. He grit his teeth. Hissed a sigh. “Getting high was never one of my vices,” he said. “But. Gambling’s similar enough, I’d say—the high of winning makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. And for someone who’s been at the bottom a lot, it’s. An escape, almost.” His frown was pensive, shoulders hunched. “A way to…forget how shitty everything else is.” And, wasn’t that the primary kicker? The alcohol, the gambling. It was a means to an end, a way to escape life as he knew it. A way to be someone else for a little while.
Cherri scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, sure. Maybe I also like t’get high ta’ forget about my shitty day. Why’s that such a bad thing?” 
For a moment, no one had an answer. 
📖
Read the rest on Ao3!
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bigsoftmarshmallow · 20 days
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Yo! Already sent you this, but I didn't know if you saw it or not, so I'm sending it back because I'm in a bit of a pestery mood rn.
Something interesting, but also really twisted? I'm pretty sure that OoT's Phantom is noted to be a dark spirit from another world that Ganondorf essentially brainwashed & experimented on. Though, something I recently thought of was the possibility that OoT's Phantom might’ve originally been his Lorulean alternate self. This is based on the theory that Shadow Link (specifically from the FSA manga) had originally been that Link's Ravio; his Lorulean counterpart. But, yeah. I tend to enjoy the idea of Lorulean counterparts either mirroring or parallelling their Hyrulean selves in most ways. Both narratively, in their history/experiences, & in other ways, such as personality, as well. That, they share the same soul & even extremely similar genetics, & are, in many ways, reflections on each other had they been born in the other world. So, it’s a fun thing to play with & explore them as individuals, I think. The reason being that it can very well act as a way to gain some insight into the thought process of those from Hyrule.
As such, I would be willing to bet that, if so, OoT’s Phantom would be every bit as inclined to fall for the same people as OoT, just possibly for different reasons.
I <3 This. I Love any sort of lore or ideas on the Phantoms. The thought of them being twisted Lorule alts? Mmm... Very nice.
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The idea that each Phantom could be a twisted reflection of their Hyrulean counterpart is fascinating and adds a deep layer of complexity to the characters. If the Phantoms are indeed Lorulean counterparts, this creates an eerie mirror where the essence of each Ganondorf or Demise is preserved, but warped by the harshness of Lorule's reality.
Here's how each Ganondorf and Demise's Phantom might be like, and how they would react to the Real Demon King's significant other (SO):
Ocarina of Time Ganondorf's Phantom
If Ocarina of Time’s Phantom was once his Lorulean counterpart, it would have a deeply twisted sense of loyalty and identity, perhaps even confusion about who it truly is. This Phantom might still carry echoes of the Lorulean Ganondorf’s ambition, pride, and desire for power, but all of it would be distorted by its transformation into a Phantom.
Personality:
Haunted and fractured, the Phantom is tormented by flashes of memories and emotions that it can't fully understand. It is obsessed with proving its worth, not just to its Hyrulean counterpart but to itself.
Reaction to the Real Demon King's SO:
The Phantom would be drawn to the SO, perhaps out of a longing for something it once had or wanted in Lorule. It might feel a twisted affection or obsession, driven by its confused memories and the desire to reclaim some semblance of identity. It would be conflicted, torn between a desire to serve the Demon King and a subconscious yearning for the SO’s affection.
Wind Waker Ganondorf's Phantom
If Wind Waker Ganondorf's Phantom is a Lorulean counterpart, it would likely embody a deep sense of loss and desperation, mirroring the themes of Wind Waker. The Phantom would be more cunning and perhaps more melancholic, reflecting on what was lost in Lorule.
Personality:
A strategist with a tragic sense of inevitability, this Phantom is methodical and calculating but carries a deep sadness, as if constantly aware of its doomed existence.
Reaction to the Real Demon King's SO:
The Phantom might view the SO as a figure of both hope and doom, seeing them as a potential source of redemption or final destruction. It would be drawn to them, seeking validation or perhaps attempting to manipulate them to secure its own fate.
Twilight Princess Ganondorf's Phantom
This Phantom, if born from a Lorulean counterpart, would be fierce and feral, driven by a primal need for survival and dominance. It would be the most physically imposing and terrifying of the Phantoms, reflecting Twilight Princess Ganondorf’s sheer power and will.
Personality:
Brutal, relentless, and animalistic, this Phantom is a force of nature, more driven by instinct than by thought. It’s a being of raw emotion and power, perhaps even more dangerous than its Hyrulean counterpart because of its lack of restraint.
Reaction to the Real Demon King's SO:
The Phantom might see the SO as something to conquer or possess, viewing them as a prize that proves its dominance. However, there might also be a protective, almost territorial instinct toward them, seeing them as something precious to be guarded jealously.
Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf's Phantom
If Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf had a Lorulean counterpart turned Phantom, it would embody the chaos and destruction of the battlefield. This Phantom would be the most chaotic, reveling in destruction and power.
Personality:
Chaotic, unpredictable, and bloodthirsty, this Phantom is driven by a need for conquest and domination. It thrives on chaos and destruction, feeding off the energy of battle.
Reaction to the Real Demon King's SO:
The Phantom might be fiercely protective of the SO, seeing them as its most valuable possession. It could also be dangerously possessive, willing to destroy anything or anyone that it perceives as a threat to its bond with the SO, even the Real Demon King.
Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf's Phantom
This Phantom, if it were a reflection of a Lorulean counterpart, would be the most cunning and insidious. It would be a master manipulator, using illusions and deceit to achieve its goals.
Personality:
Deceptive, patient, and calculating, this Phantom is a master of manipulation and illusion. It prefers to work from the shadows, pulling strings and playing mind games.
Reaction to the Real Demon King's SO:
The Phantom would be deeply intrigued by the SO, perhaps seeing them as a kindred spirit or a puzzle to solve. It might attempt to manipulate the SO, testing their loyalty and resolve, all while hiding its true intentions. There would be an unsettling intimacy in how it interacts with them, always leaving the SO uncertain of its true feelings.
Demise's Phantom
If Demise had a Lorulean counterpart that became his Phantom, it would be the embodiment of pure malice and destruction. This Phantom would be the most dangerous, driven by a primal hatred for all things.
Personality:
Malicious, vengeful, and overwhelmingly powerful, this Phantom is a reflection of Demise’s pure hatred and desire for destruction. It exists only to serve its master’s will, and it revels in the suffering it causes.
Reaction to the Real Demon King's SO:
The Phantom might feel a twisted sense of duty toward the SO, seeing them as the only being worthy of its respect or care besides Demise. However, its affection would be expressed in dangerous, even deadly ways, testing the SO’s strength and resolve, pushing them to their limits as a way of proving their worth.
Small Scene: Imagine the Real Demon King’s SO encountering one of these Phantoms for the first time. The Phantom, cloaked in darkness, steps out from the shadows, its eyes glowing with an eerie light. The SO feels a strange, almost familiar pull toward it, as if some part of them recognizes this twisted being.
The Phantom speaks, its voice a distorted echo of the Demon King’s, "You... remind me of something I’ve lost. Something... precious."
The SO, wary but unable to look away, asks, "Who are you? What do you want?"
The Phantom tilts its head, a twisted smile forming on its lips. "I am a shadow of a shadow, a reflection of what might have been. And what I want... is you."
As the Phantom steps closer, the air around them grows colder, and the SO can feel the weight of its dark presence pressing down on them. They realize with a start that this Phantom, despite its monstrous appearance, is not just a mindless servant but something far more dangerous—a being with its own desires, its own twisted sense of self.
"Do you fear me?" the Phantom whispers, its voice almost tender. "Or do you fear... what I represent?"
The SO's heart pounds in their chest as they take a step back, realizing that this encounter is not just with a monster, but with a reflection of the one they love—an echo of the darkness that resides within them.
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January 9 is Vivi’s birthday \;w;/ The date’s cheeky, it’s when I reached ShB on him ingame. A year ago. JUST A YEAR. No other oc of mine had such an intense development process. I wanted to try writing a disaster, and, well....
Lemme have today as an excuse to ramble about his influences. Of course I didn’t merely lump these together, I kept realizing the likeness as time went on.
The concentration of unhinged blondies and literal idols is past the critical level, take cover, it’s gonna blow.
Spoiler warning for everything.
Anarchy Panty
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Because his full name’s Vivien Fucksalot Rell x’D A good number of their tropes match perfectly.
This speech could as well be copypasted into his final battle with Emet:
Panty: You're right, I'm just a little bitch and I'm proud of it. But guess what, douchebag? That's not the point. News flash, I don't need special fucking powers to beat the shit out of you. You know why? Because I'm a bitch who doesn't give a fuck. You and your half-dead face can preach about hymens and demons and other weird words that supposedly mean shit, but that doesn't change the fact that if any of you fuckers get in my way, I'm gonna kick some twisted-ass ass. You hear me dick? I'm a hot bitch angel named Panty. And no matter what anyone says, I DO WHAT I FUCKING WANT!
Princess Ai
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An edgy fashion icon that I'm still in love with. Brainstorming the visual styles for Vivi, I simply decided to indulge as hard as I can.
Howl
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Howl gets his redemption arc, Vivi, uh.... Surprise, the entire ShB part of Fragments is his redemption arc of sorts. But he exists outside ShB as well. He’s not meant to be a goody two shoes. But hey, his drama queen moments are entertaining to watch.
Raha has a lot of Howl in his character too. With Vivi, he’s basically this, except he doesn’t swallow him.. Okay he does but in a different way *kicked*
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Arataka Reigen
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Because I’m physically incapable of writing a classic hero.
Vivi has a complicated relationship with his career and a pragmatic approach to most things in life. He also prefers words to violence, will fight only if that fails.
When confidence and persuasion carry so hard you don’t really need anything else. Vivi firmly believes in everything he says and does. He doesn’t derive any fucked up joy from being right, but he knows as a fact that he IS right.
Sakuma Ryuichi
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Duality my beloved \o/ And dorkiness. Other than that, Ryuichi doesn’t have as much influence on his character, but the visuals?
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I mean I literally use this shirt and necklace as an easter egg/homage. Gravitation triggered my queer awakening in the faraway 2006, might as well give it the acknowledgement it deserves.
And, lastly, the he.
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What else do you expect from a character tailored for a ship \o/
Short. Sassy. Dorky. Gremlin. All of their direct likeness stems from ARR, while the more subtle parallels and extreme opposite values form later.
If Raha’s eccentric, Vivi takes that just a tad bit further, simply because he’s always been allowed to.
What Raha keeps repressed, buried deep down, Vivi embraces in full. He’s an unruly, effervescent spark of life, he’s meant to be Raha’s “manic pixie dream boy” according to tvtropes, to slowly lure him out of his shell and teach him confidence, the joy of living, and find a way to stop him from killing himself over and over again.
Words of praise and affirmation have no effect on them. Both are competent in some field, but never brag about it. While Raha has a severe imposter syndrome, Vivi knows he’s cool as a fact, which still doesn't mean he loves or values himself as he should. He just acknowledges and uses his status for his own benefit as openly as the world keeps using himself.
Destiny (affectionate) and destiny (derogatory).
Raha’s The Adult (tm) Vivi needs to stay somewhat stable. This’s the reason they don’t quite get along in ARR yet, Raha must go through that century of suffering that, despite all common sense, refines him into something delightful, Vivi must go through HW-SB to realize his priorities in life and frankly get fucked up enough to form a perfect chemistry with Exarch.
Raha has a moral compass that he may adjust at will, Vivi has none at all. How much more questionable would they be if they weren’t cute and charismatic :’D
They’re feisty and competitive towards each other, Raha especially so. Vivi has a red cloth effect on him. Forever wrestling for that imaginary control (yep, in bed too). On the emotional side, it’s forever “you matter, I don’t”. They’re mirrors of each other, reflecting some parts as they are, twisting others in most peculiar ways.
Vivi literally wouldn’t exist without Raha, both ic and ooc. So I daresay Raha has the most influence on his character, at the same time he’s his own guy enough to stay interesting. I’m so proud of him. I’m holding him by the scruff and helplessly shaking him in the air.
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mightymizora · 2 months
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you asked me about solas and now I am here to ask about thom rainier! if you have a ted talk, i would love to hear it :D
(but also: how did your inquisitor deal with him??? how did you feel about how the confession went down in-game?)
haha WELL my canon Inquisitor is also an elf who romanced Solas (my second playthrough, I decided that it was best for the balance between the two so I will talk a little about both.)
My first inquisitor was a Cadash, and I tell you from pre-game (much like Gale) Blackwall was my least likely romance option. I had thought it would be Sera but then my character was older and it felt much more like a mother/daughter kind of thing - Blackwall completely sucker-punched me and was very unexpected.
The thing I love about him is he is just. A guy? He's like, the most just a guy I think I've ever seen in a bioware game, even more so than Kaidan! When you meet him he just seems quite shy and serious, with little flashes of a cheeky nature. And then... I'm going to go under the cut as I know some people are playing Inquisition for the first time...
The sort of doomed lover approach is something I loved for the drama, but I was NOT prepared for the reveal of why! I absolutely loved it. I had very much assumed that he was just an older Warden experiencing his calling and not wanting to get involved, and then to find out that he had done what he had done completely chilled me. I loved the drama of the reveal, how it completely repainted everything that came before it, and the fact that to save him a Cadash or Adaar can be forced to lean on their old criminal connections, something he, a man trying to atone, would hate SO much.
My main criticism of the romance (aside from the voice actor's wildly inconsistent performance, man I don't know how I coped with it) is what happens after that moment. The kiss in the throne room would NEVER have happened with my Cadash, even if she definitely leverages her power to keep him. And then it's very neatly resolved, which again isn't how I read it and isn't how I started to write it to "fix it." They have a very painful few years rebuilding their relationship and marriage with a lot of further mistakes on both sides, which to me feels right.
The thing I think I love the most about him and how he is written is that he's on a genuine redemption path. He is so obviously not the man he was - the gambler, the social climber, the cold soldier, the womaniser. He is genuinely on a path of atonement and I love that even if you give him the "out" of freedom, he still takes the time to try and atone, journeying around the Marches to try and do what's right. It's extremely rare to me that you see a redemption path done right - mostly because these things take time and changed behaviour and most fiction doesn't have the space to do it, and I adore how it works in Inquisition.
As for my canon inquisitor, they have a very solid friendship that is really, really rocked by the reveal. She sends him to become a warden, which again feels like the right path for him and is certainly what she thinks is his destiny. She's reeling from the recent deaths of her children and grandchildren, so their friendship never recovers from what he confesses.
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