#or master in a master/apprentice sense

[rotationalsymmetry]

I haven't fleshed this out, but at one point I had a story idea involving dragons with more or less a four gender system where there's a similar queen/worker dichotomy (with actual human-like power associations, but also like bees the workers don't reproduce) but guys get one too. It's such a fucked up society.

have y'all heard about the reproductive biology of honey bees. no, not the thing about the queen and everything. I mean how the males (drones) only exist to fly out and congregate at mysteriously determined locations in the sky in huge numbers, where they meet up with queens on their mating flights. And a drone can only have sex once, because when he mates with a queen, he essentially pops such a massive boner that it drains all the blood from his body, paralyzing him as the act rips his dick off killing him instantly.

The queen mates with a dozen or two drones on her mating flight (which is the only one she will ever take- she keeps the sperm from the drones alive in her body for the rest of her life, which can be several years). The next drone has to pull his fallen brother's severed dick out of the queen before he too can mate with her, meeting the same grisly fate and the cycle repeats.

Showing up to the gang bang and everybody is just dying like flies around you

[awinterrosesstuff]

I've seen so many people comparing Hinata and Sakura just to make one look better than the other. And I don't get why. What's the point ?

Sakura is the main female character. She will have more panels in the manga, more feats, development, personality traits, and techniques. Hinata is a supporting character the same way Ino, Kiba and Choji are. So yes, there's less room for her.

They don't serve the same purpose and don't have the same importance for the story. They don't have the same "value" as kunoichi, Sakura is a medic nin and Hinata a tracker that's why she fits so well in her team. Their fighting styles are vastly different even if they're both taijutsu users. They don't have the same personality either, so they don't react the same way in a fight. Especially since they're not trained for the same thing.

I mean it's hightly possible to discuss your fave character without putting the other down. And you can be critical of a character without comparing her/him to another character.

[fragmentedblade]

Insane that Blade during Todd's quest did basically the same thing Dan Heng was doing during this last video

[scrimplications]

tired of jedi characters comparing their relationship to their master with a parent-child dynamic. they dont KNOW that dynamic!

give me more jedi comparing a non-jedi's familial relationship to that of an apprentice and a master - at least that would make sense!

jedi going "yeah, an adult who guides and protects you and you're supposed to listen to them? yeah thats a master- oh, your mom is like that too? neat :)"

more jedi not really understanding non-jedi family dynamics. more jedi being horrified at the concept of someone being rejected or mistreated by their parent, because "why did they choose to have you then???"

there's a lot of interesting parallels between master-padawan dynamics and parental/familial dynamics. i just want to see more of the comparison going the other way.

[wh0rephobic]

LIMERENCE.

PAIRING: anakin skywalker x apprentice!reader

SUMMARY: you and your master unknowingly get your drinks spiked on a mission.

WARNINGS: SMUT, aphrodisiacs/spiked drinks, dubcon, fingering, piv, orgasm denial, overstimulation, minor age gap (reader is 20-21, anakin is 25-26), teacher x student themes, glove stays on during sex, NSFW, MDNI

COUNT: 3.7k

The air is heavy inside the brewery you ran into after this thief, whom you and your master were assigned to catch.

“You’re sure it ran in here?” Master Anakin inquires, scanning the room.

“Yes,” you insist, “I felt it.”

Though you may only be a young Jedi knight, you’ve always felt very keen about your sense of the Force. But, although hotheaded and stubborn, you don’t disagree that you still have lots to learn from your Master… including this.

“Well, keep your eyes peeled.” Anakin crosses his arms in front of him, “from what Obi-Wan had said, it sounds like we’re dealing with a changeling,”

Oh, great. Your hand balls into a tight fist as the cortisol is released into your bloodstream. These creatures never failed to royally piss you off.

“A changeling?!” You exclaim, “why are you just telling this to me now?”

Your challenging tone earns a stern look from your Master, who’s nearly just as hotheaded as you.

“Easy, young knight,” he snips, “if your connection with the force is strong enough to lead you in here, it’s strong enough to find it. Correct?”

You chew on your lip, studying Anakin’s angry expression as you choose your next words carefully.

“Correct,” you nod, stubbornly.

“Good.” He trusts, “now, let’s split up. You can take the left side of the bar and— “

A server approaches, quickly cutting him off. “Would you like a drink?” She tilts her head with a faux smile on her face and motions to a sign next to her.

“ DISTRICT POLICY: NO LOITERING! ALL CUSTOMERS MUST BUY SOMETHING FROM THE BAR. “

With an eye roll and a faint grunt, the two of you reluctantly order the cheapest drink on the menu, a craft beverage you’ve never really heard of, and find a seat while you wait, continuing to scan the surroundings for signs of your target.

But somehow, you miss your server clock out for a smoke break outside after putting in your orders, and you also miss when an unknown figure takes her place.

The figure swiftly collects your drinks from behind the bar, tagged by your table’s receipt. When throwing in some straws, the figure doses both drinks with a substance. The changeling delivers them to your table.

You may be a knight, but you’re not that young, and Anakin has been training you for at least a few years now. The council wanted to assign someone as stubborn as himself to train as a taste of his own medicine. Since then, you have been stuck to his side like a puppy, and he’s watched you grow up into the bright young woman you are over these past few years… except that this last year, he’s noticed that you’ve gained some independence, as both a good and a bad thing. While you have more confidence in your actions and decisions, he’s not going to ignore the numerous times you’ve arrived at the job late since you became of age, makeup from last night smeared under your eyes and hair barely touched before you pinned it up. No, you weren’t that young, but you did have a reputation of being a little immature at times… he advised you not to let your party life get ahead of you.

You take a generous sip from the double straws in your cocktail, eyes carefully studying every customer at the bar.

Your eyebrows knit, “how do we even know it’s still in here? Couldn’t it have left already?”

“That’s the bad thing,” Anakin admits, sipping from his glass. “I have a feeling that this thing knew what it was doing leading us in here… so, we’ll just have one drink, watch the door, then get back to looking for this guy.”

You nod, trusting your Master’s intuition.

It was a bad idea.

It doesn’t take long for the substance to take effect, Anakin’s palms beginning to sweat under the long sleeves of his Jedi robes. It’s a slow onset though, slow enough that he can barely notice his own temperature change or heart rate rise gradually, and he just blames it on the temperature of the crowded bar. He takes another gulp from his drink.

As his eyes begin to tire from the repetitive display of the busy bar room, his mind begins to wander. It’s been years since he’s wasted his time going out to sleazy bars like this. He was younger, maybe a year or two younger than his own apprentice, you, when he would go out. He reminisces on the young women he’d meet, showing off their bodies in promiscuous outfits, looking for the attention that young Anakin was all-too willing to give, licking the liquor off of their tongues…

He can’t help but wonder what it’s like when you go out with your friends, how much skin you’ve shown off at a place like this. he wonders how many strangers you’ve gone home with, how many of them have made you cum? He bets he could make you feel better than any of them ever have.

With a huff of hot air, Anakin comes back to reality. Everything happens right under his nose, and the naïve Jedi can’t help but wonder how long he’s been feeling like this, and he hasn’t even realized?

But he’s too caught up in his own world to notice how the drug was affecting you. Not only are you also sweating, but you’re shaking, and there’s an uncontrollable heat between your legs that’s clouding your head. You can barely hear Anakin speaking to you, having zoned out long ago with your thighs clenched together to try and relieve some of the pressure.

Soon enough, he notices your lack of interest in the scene and asks, “are you feeling alright?”

You can only offer a huff in response, balling your fists to try and control your tremors. But when a wave of sinful thoughts floods your brain, your eyes can’t help but roll shut at your visions and you feel your face flush a deep red.

The lust seizes you like a fever, with one undeniable thought above it all: you want him. All of him. You want to feel his thick fingers filling you up to the point where you can’t breathe, you want to feel his body on top of yours when he slips in and out of your soaked pussy, whispering ungodly words into your ear. You need him, and you’re mortified.

You’re humiliated, thinking such shameful thoughts of your Master, not only while on duty, but when he’s right in front of you… in the back of your mind, you know that you shouldn’t, that this is wrong and that you should resist your urges. You turn away from him.

He calls your name, trying to get your attention again before he reaches for you. The second you feel his scalding touch on your skin, you involuntarily arch your back away from him with a gasp.

“Master!” You nearly moan out; mind and body completely overran by the substance you unknowingly drank.

Anakin freezes; your reflex is enough to set off a chemical reaction inside of him that creeps down his spine. Luckily, he didn’t drink as fast as you, and he still has his head on straight.

“You’re not well.” He decides.

He harshly grips your bicep. You try to flinch away a second time, biting your lips to hold back another moan as he pulls you to your feet. The mission you two were initially sent on is now completely forgotten, but the changeling snuck out the front door a while ago when both of you were too distracted to notice.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

You finally looked up at him, pouting helplessly as your body aches from the desperation radiating from your core. There’s a scarlet hue painted onto your glistening cheeks, and your pupils are huge, Anakin notes. He hates to admit that the defenseless expression on your face made his cock twitch to life in his pants, neglecting it with a barely audible grunt as he gnaws on his lip, turning away from you.

Outside the bar, your master calls for an air taxi to take you home. He joins you in the backseat, and what should’ve been a relief quickly becomes true torture. Having Anakin so close to you in the tight space of the taxi pod proves to be worse than being inside the bar.

You turned your face to the window. It’s becoming increasingly harder to resist your urges when you can practically smell his wooden-leathery musk dripping in his sweat from where you’re sitting. You bite into your knuckles, shifting your knees together subtly to create some sort of friction between your soaked thighs.

Anakin, both concerned about your sudden distress and trying to satisfy his own disgusting urges, reaches to place a comforting palm on your knee, squeezing it lightly to remind you that he’s there. But his touch only sends lightning to your core, catching air in your throat and making it hard to breathe. You turn to look at him with the same helpless expression that you gave him when you were leaving the bar, eyes glossed over with need.

Both of you are so oblivious to what has been done.

You chew your lip, conflicted about your next move.

Your body, seemingly on autopilot, places your soft hand on top of his glove. Neither of you break eye contact when you guide his hand up your thigh a few experimental inches, studying his reaction. From beneath the leather, Anakin’s metal hand squeezes your thigh to indicate his reciprocated need. It makes your desperate hole clench around nothing, it aches being so empty. You sigh, turning back to the window with a burning red face and stupidly loud heartbeat, but holding his hand where it sits on your leg for the remainder of the short ride. He gingerly rubs his thumb back and forth over the soft material of your pants, slowly getting you more worked up.

By the time you get to your apartment, you’re a disaster. Sweating, eyes blown wide, wetness drenching your underwear as you continue to shake like a prey being hunted in front of your Master, who was just as far gone as you.

You would have jumped on him in the elevator, if it weren’t for the Council. The only thing holding you back from him at this point was your fear of how the Jedi Council would react if behavior like this got out. It was the same thing holding him back, as well… but that didn’t stop him from walking into your apartment, and following you into your bedroom… this is a dangerous game you’re playing.

You smile coyly at him. “You shouldn’t be here,”

You know what you’re doing, and you want it just as much. You just need him to be the one to say it.

“I know,” he swallows, “but you want me to be, right?”

Your lips part, speechless at his question. Yes, you do. But you shouldn’t, you try to tell yourself, the council wouldn’t like this. But as he continues to move closer to you, you can’t help but drift towards him, and when he catches your eye glance solemnly at his lips, all of the ties holding him back snap. With the back of two of his flesh fingers, Anakin strokes the soft skin of your arm.

“Please, let me have you,” he begs, “just for tonight.”

You sigh, hot breath clouding the little space there is between you.

“Master, I- “

“Anakin,” he corrects.

“Anakin,” you repeat desperately, leaning into his touch.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he promises, tasting iron on his tongue. “Please.”

It was so different, seeing him like this. He’s always so strict with you, so stern and certain. But here he is, panting and begging beneath you like he’s ready to get on his knees, and you’re not even touching him. It made your heart beat impossibly faster, pounding so heavily that you’d think it wants to literally jump out of your chest. You think that if you listen close enough, you might be able to hear Anakin’s heart beating just as fast, as well. The agonizing sound fills your ears as you reach for his sleeve, clammy hands gripping it tight, the rhythm of your twin hearts beating gravitating you towards each other.

You’re speechless, trying your hardest to think through this situation rationally but you just can’t.

“Won’t we get in trouble?” You mumble as Anakin tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, allowing his calloused fingers to trace your jaw before cradling it.

He whispers, “I won’t let that happen.”

His lips crashed onto yours before you knew it, both of you immediately melting into it. Shaky hands pushed the robe off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor of your bedroom. His mouth is hot as he eagerly licks into your mouth, entangling his wet tongue with your own. He pushes you back towards your bed gently, discarding his belt and leather tunic along with his robe. You let yourself sneak your fingers under the hem of his shirt, grazing them over the smooth skin.

You let yourself fall back onto the mattress when you feel the bed hit the back of your knees. Anakin takes his shirt off over his head, and you follow his actions. You frantically kick off your pants, fingers reaching behind your back to unclip your bra, when Anakin, now left only in his boxers, climbs on top of you. He places a knee between your legs before leaning in to resume your deep kisses. He reaches behind you, swatting your hands away and taking it upon himself to unhook your bra. You can feel how hard he is on your leg as his mouth gradually moves down your jaw and lands on your tender neck, decorating it red with gentle hickeys. Subconsciously, he hopes that they’re light enough to fade by tomorrow… but tonight, he can’t help himself.

You can’t help but drop your head back when he drags a big hand up your thigh, sending chills down your spine. The feeling of his teasing fingers tracing along the get spot of your clothed pussy makes you whine.

“Please don’t tease me— ah-!” You gasp when he finally pushes your panties aside and sinks two thick digits into your warm cunt.

Simultaneously, his expert mouth lands on one of the sensitive buds on your chest, flicking his tongue back and forth over it before suckling carefully. Your back arches, and Anakin takes this opportunity to sneak his gloved prosthesis behind your back to hold you closer to him as a most beautiful mewl escapes your swollen lips. He smiles against your tits when he feels you tighten around his hand, leaking slick wetness all over his hands and down your thighs.

Your legs twitch when you feel him curl his strong fingers inside of you, and you instinctively reach for the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his golden curls and pulling him impossibly closer to you. He groans against your nipples, repeating the motions of his fingers rapidly, rubbing his fingertips against the spongy spot inside of you.

“You’re so wet,” he hums approvingly, “is this all for me?”

You can only let out a pleasured cry in response, too far gone to offer anything more.

Anakin picks his head up from your swollen tits and studies your face. You’re swimming in the clouds of bliss that is being in Anakin’s arms, eyes rolled back and jaw hung so low you’re about to start drooling. You’ve gone stupid on his fingers alone.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, “stay with me,”

His words ground you, and he flashes you a proud grin when your eyes blink back into focus, holding eye contact with him as he sneaks his thumb up to your clit. Your body twitches at the stimulation when he starts slowly rubbing it side to side, eyes threatening to roll back again. You feel a throb deep inside your needy cunt before a warm pressure suddenly bubbles up, faster than you can take it.

“Anakin-!” You gasp, “y-you’re gonna make me cum!”

But your words only discourage him, making the pace of his skilled hand falter when he shakes his head in disapproval, golden curls clumping together as they fall in front of his forehead.

“I want you to cum on my dick.”

Your hole squeezes his fingers at the thought of being filled up by him any more than you already are.

You gasp, blurting out “please fuck me,”

Your begs fuel Anakin, the pride of your desperation rushing straight to his cock, you watch a dark grin flash across his face. He’s going to break you.

He moves down your body, planting kisses along your stomach as he inches closer to your now completely ruined panties. He hooks his fingers into the side before pulling them down, placing soft kisses onto your tender pussy. His own underwear comes off next, and you open your legs invitingly, allowing him to position himself between them. He rubs the plush skin of your hip soothingly, looking up to give you a checking nod.

You reciprocate with another sure nod before you reach up to pull him down on top of you, foreheads touching.

“Please,” you whisper.

Anakin obeys your soft begs when he finally sinks his hard cock inside of you. Despite your wetness, the stretch from him still makes your back arch, and one sharp inhale is enough for him to clash his lips with yours and drink up your lewd moans like he hasn’t drank anything in weeks. The tense grip he has on your thighs tells you that he’s holding back, thumbs pressing hard enough to stain your skin violet.

“F-Fuck,” he hisses, eyes screwing shut with pleasure. “You’re so warm,”

His gravelly voice makes your pussy throb around him again, sucking him in and drawing a punched-out groan from deep inside of him. That’s when something snaps inside of Anakin, he completely loses control when he pushes your knees into your chest before doubling down and fucking you hard, ruthless and unforgiving.

“Ah!” You cry out, reaching for him and stabilizing yourself on his leather glove. 

Your other hand cradles around the back of his neck, pulling him down, and you sink into each other’s rhythm like puzzle pieces

Anakin’s ruthless pace allows for his cockhead to slam into your cervix; he’s so deep you can feel it in your stomach. You find it hard to breathe and you start gasping breathlessly into his mouth. Your wet cunt is squeezing him so sweetly that he can’t help but let out a groan into your mouth, pace faltering for a brief second. He lets his head fall onto your shoulder, rutting eagerly into your desperate hole, sucking him back in every time he pulls out and essentially milking his cock. He bites his lip to stifle a deep moan.

“If I had known your pussy was this good, I would’ve fucked you months ago,” Anakin confesses in his haze.

He emphasizes his words with another deep pump into your core that echoes through you with a sob. Your nails scratch shamelessly down his back and you grip him impossibly tighter.

“Hah,” he hisses, eyes screwing shut.

He lifts himself to full height to take in the full sight of you, never letting his unforgiving pace slow. You’re a disaster under him, eyes crossing with pleasure, tears mixing with sweat on your temples, a messy mixture of both of your saliva coating your chin.

The sheer sight of you beneath him is enough for his dick to twitch inside of you, grazing his leaking tip against your g-spot in such a way that sends electric jolts to your burning core. Before you know it, you’re tumbling towards your orgasm.

Anakin can sense it, “you’re close?”

You nod frantically, eyes locked on him. You bite your lip, trying your hardest to find the strength to put words together in your defeated state. He’s fucking you so good, and you’re so desperate for it, taking everything he gives you without protest like the obedient little slut that you are.

“Y-Yes!” You finally choke out, “yes, ‘m so close, ah— fuck-! please, feels s-so good…”

He’s proud of you. 

With a permitting nod from your Master, the fuse inside of you finally explodes and sends fireworks shooting through your body. Your back arches up into his stomach, soft walls spasming around his aching cock so perfectly that his eyes screw shut and his nails dig into your hips as he leans over you. He drives his length into you a few more times, letting out a shattered growl when he finally buries himself inside of you and finishes, filling you up with white streaks while you shake beneath him.

Anakin rides out his high with a final few sloppy grinds against you before draping his tired body over yours. The two of you take a minute to come back down to Earth, engulfed by your collective hot gasps and pants that thicken the air of your bedroom.

As your heartbeat begins to calm, you can feel Anakin’s still pounding excitedly against your chest. You can hear him try to regulate his shaky breathing against your neck, but he’s still worked up.

Suddenly, the speed of his lazy rocks picks up again.

A moan rips through your chest, “W-Wait, A-Anakin! Please-! I-I can’t take it— Ahh—!”

“You can take it,” he nods, voice slurring.

You squirm beneath him, trying to escape his overstimulating thrusts when he grabs you by the thighs and drags your body back into his lap, holding you still with one hand as the other gloved one reaches up to gently tweak your nipples, trying to give you something to relieve the aching pressure in your core.

Next thing you know, you’re back at the start, with your back slightly arching into his touch and your cunt swallowing him greedily.

It’ll be a long night.

a/n: daddy skywalker fic for father’s day mwahaha >:D

[maidenvault]

It just bums me out how much of SW fandom clearly doesn’t appreciate the levels of magnificent bastardy that Palpatine achieved as a villain when they bitch about so much being the Jedi Order’s fault. As if the Jedi should have just looked harder under some couch cushions and then they would have found the solid evidence they could use to go after him and the Senate.

Palpatine was too smart for that! No Sith lord had ever aimed so high and achieved so much, and he only did it by playing a long game that started before Anakin was even born. People have to understand that when Dooku tells Obi-Wan that a Sith controls the Senate, that’s hard for him to believe because it is absolutely ridiculous and hard to believe! The Jedi don’t understand why the dark side clouds their awareness because the Sith have become masterful at hiding their presence, which was not the case throughout known history. It would truly be like hearing that Biden’s administration actually are all Satanists who traffic and eat children. Palpatine’s extremely powerful and cunning and unlike anything they’re used to dealing with, otherwise they might seriously consider that Sidious could have accomplished this without the Jedi having any idea. And where do you even begin investigating such a thing when it’s been covered up so well?

The Jedi were always gonna be outmatched against someone like Sidious because a Sith’s whole thing is amassing wealth, influence, and power, and Sidious was probably the best there ever was at it. The Jedi are the opposite, they’re not meant to have those things, and Sidious ended up with too much control of the government for them to have any real power to act. (Probably even if they had complete knowledge of everything, which they never did.) It makes sense that just a couple Sith can bring “imbalance” to the Force when you consider that the use of the dark side is inherently an imbalance of power and a destructive influence in the world this way.

You don’t have to scapegoat anyone else. Palpatine needed his apprentice and other pawns to move around but he really did almost all of it himself. He worked so hard and deserves the hate for his efforts, he really was that bad. :(

[lychniis]

@perpetualcynicism has my brain thinking : jing yuan angst? jing yuan angst. either way, check out some of their brainrots in the notes. they're glorious.

sometimes i do dare to wonder. how long would it take for jing yuan to fall in love? the xianzhou have lived long lives. time doesn't quite flow as it does for us. would it take him months? years? centuries?

damn.

[sithextant]

Everything about Maul makes a lot more sense when you realize that despite being an extraordinarily powerful and deeply talented force user, he is still extremely insecure + fear motivated.

Not only is he from a culture that inherently devalues him, but he grew up being told he was good for very little. Maul, at his core, is unchanged from the little boy who was given away by his mother. How would that not inform a core aspect of your thought process? That you are worth less than ehat you were traded for even by your own mother? He spends a great deal of the series still trying to prove himself, to Sidious, to Talzin, even to Obi-Wan, that he is worth something (not that he believes that himself).

He expresses the fawn trauma response when Sidious comes to collect, saying that he did this for him, he built this empire for Sidious, and when that doesn't work, he finally gives in and defends himself. Crucially, this is not true. He built that empire to defend himself because Sidious frightens him so much. He uses the defensive Soresu. I know people say that his fight against Sidious is one of thr biggest beatdowns in the show and he spends the runtime getting mollywopped, but I disagree. He puts up (in my opinion) a damn good fight against Sidious. I don't think he loses because Sidious is necessarily the better duellist, I think he loses because ensured that Maul specifically would never be able to surpass him. Maul couldn't have won that fight, because he was terrified.

When he's captured by Ahsoka, him begging to die is one of his most enlightening scenes. Death is preferable to being handed over to his master - maybe because he knows nobody will be coming for him this time.

He is desperate for People, but the only metric by which he knows to have a relationship is through that of master and apprentice. Everything else is out of the question because he was repeatedly punished for having friendships. He doesn't know how to be anything else. Not a brother, not a son. Maybe an ally.

I don't actually think power is his biggest motivator. He already is powerful. From the moment he's introduced in TCW, he displays a masterful grasp of the Force. His manipulation and control of physic matter is probably among the most impressive out of all the characters. He builds his body and uses the Force to ambulate, he throws starships around without breaking a sweat, all that preeminent duelling talent comes out in full force even without a lightsaber, and he holds the record for the strongest Force push in the show. He's one of his generations premier duelists (even if his arrogance costs him). And what does he do with all that skill? Fucks off to work from the shadows. Lets Dryden Vos take most of the credit.

He's already learned what being too open about power will cost him, and he already knows that nothing he can throw at Sidious will stop him, but amassing power is literally all he knows. It's what he's been taught since he was a child, despite the fact that that philosophy is actually damaging to his needs and desires. He's just using power as security. He has bodies to throw at his problems. If he needs to make a quick getaway, he can send some goons out to take care of it and leave, biding his time until he gets lucky enough to die.

At his heart, Maul is still the scared boy being handed over to Sidious.

[kasagia]

Right hand II

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't we?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

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

"What?"

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

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

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

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

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

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

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

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

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

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were the only one left alive.

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

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[pa1nrema1ns]

Two Intertwining Melodies || Sung Jin-woo (Part 2 of 3)

Siren!Jin-woo x Deaf!Omega!reader

A/N: Hello again everyone! Thank you so much for all of your interest and feedback on part one of this series. Due to the sheer enormity of the second chapter, I've decided to expand the siren au into a trilogy rather than a two-parter. My dear friend and beta reader @forbidden-sunlight has been an absolutely incredible source of support in the creation of this story. She also wrote the imagine that inspired this au. Links to the prologue and first chapter are posted below. Do be sure to read them first before continuing. And as always, heed the content warnings that are listed.

╰┈➤ Chapter Index

🦪 Prologue by @forbidden-sunlight 🧜‍♂️ Part 1: Master and Apprentice 🦈 Part 3: In a Sea of Fire

Content warnings: 18+MDNI, canon divergent, graphic descriptions of gore, death, and violence, afab!reader, reader is a makeup artist and hair stylist in the entertainment industry, a/b/o dynamics, heavy mentions of heat cycles, knotting, and breeding, threats of assault/non-con made by Kang Taeshik towards the reader (Jinchul intervenes and protects her), suggestive themes, some sexual descriptors, mythical creatures au, yandere!Jin-woo.

Word count - 9.6k

Summary - You find yourself returning to your childhood home of Jindo Island after receiving the offer of a lifetime. However, you can't shake the feeling that someone or something is watching you.

Dividers by @anitalenia and @firefly-graphics

[Skill: "Monarch’s Domain" Has Been Activated.]

“Come on out!”

A cacophony of deafening blasts, wails, and the clash of steel rings across the crimson-tinged horizon of the one hundredth floor of the Demon’s Castle; a perfect accompaniment to the Armageddon currently taking place. Infantrymen by the hundreds emerge from the shadows to skewer Baran’s forces while Iron, Igris, and Tank slaughter the larger and more formidable combatants with wanton brutality. Issuing a non-verbal command, Jin-woo orders Tusk to incinerate his enemies with ‘Song of Inferno,’ and a calamitous ball of flames bursts forth, eradicating most of the battalion.  

“Amazing… on all the top floors I’ve been with him, I’ve seen nothing quite like this,” Esil whispered in awe. Although she was a demon princess who grew up in this wasteland and had seen many spectacular sights, the power of commanding shadow soldiers was most certainly not one of them.

In contrast to his companion, Jin-woo calmly observes the cataclysmic destruction with a piercing gaze. Despite gaining the upper hand against his troops, Baran remained steadfast in his refusal to engage directly in the ensuing fight. This simply would not do. Jin-woo needed to secure his victory in this decisive battle, and fast.

Jinwoo’s opponent possessed the last ingredient required to craft the Holy Water of Life: The Purified Blood of the Demon Monarch. A fortnight of endless fighting had culminated to this moment, and he was on the precipice of triumph. But the Demon King was unlike any adversary he had ever faced before. Jin-woo could gauge just from the sheer murderous energy emanating from him that Baran was in a league of his own. And his power spoke for itself: endless demon hordes at his beck and call, a wyvern as a mount, and an insurmountable supply of mana that showed no signs of running out. Jin-woo would need to approach his foe strategically lest he lose this war of attrition.

At long last, as if he could sense the siren’s impatience, the Demon King makes his move. He bids his steed to fly at a lower altitude. Once within range, Baran unhinges his jaw and unleashes a massive beam of white lightning. Within seconds, thunder runs rampant throughout the land, devastating everything in its path. However, Jin-woo and his shadow army stand strong regardless of the imminent danger.  The siren even has the audacity to smirk. 

So Baran thought he could defeat him with electricity? Excellent. He really could not have asked for a better opponent. As luck would have it, Jin-woo’s oceanic nature gave him the edge in this situation. The surface of water, acting as a conductor of electricity, causes high voltages and amps to spread rapidly. With this in mind, Jin-woo launches a counterattack.

“Wreak havoc on all who dare to stand in my way, Charybdis!”

Powerful torrents of black seawater manifest from the shadows just before Baran’s attack could hit him. The rushing stream then runs across the land and coalesces into a violent maelstrom in the sky. The raging vortex absorbs most of the lightning in its maw before redirecting its flow towards the Demon King. Baran wills his steed to evade by canting to the left, but Tusk incapacitates him by striking the wyvern’s wing with a blast of fire magic. The Demon King leaps from his mount’s back before it’s forced into the whirlpool and electrocuted. He lands gracefully on his feet and shoots a sinister grin at Jin-woo.

“It was worth it to let Tusk have the sphere,” the siren remarks nonchalantly, as if it was just any other day and not a fight to the death. “I’m glad you’re finally on the ground. Constantly looking up was making me tired.”

With the Demon King grounded, Jin-woo no longer required the aquatic effects of Charybdis. The dark water above evaporates as it returns to the abyssal depths of the ocean, its job now complete. With this hindrance finally gone, Baran doesn’t hesitate to release another beam of white thunder, this one even greater than the last. Tusk attempts to lessen the impact with ‘Song of Protection’, but the force of taking a direct hit ends up obliterating him. Undeterred by his comrade’s demise, Iron bellows at Baran and slashes at his body with his axe. But he proves to be no match for the speed of the Demon King, who ruthlessly splits his head in half. Igris then valiantly joins the fray and swings his great sword at the demon. However, this too is a fruitless endeavor, as Baran swiftly catches his blade and wipes him out with a flick of his wrist.

Just as Igris’s body fades, Jin-woo emerges from the ashes in his true sirenic form, Knight Killer and Baruka’s dagger at the ready. “Scylla!” He snarls a second incantation that brings forth another wave of black water, this time in the shape of a six-headed beast. The aqueous leviathan slams into Baran, crushing his body under its weight and submerging the entire floor of the dungeon in water. The Demon King swiftly breaks free from the tides and springs onto the roof of one of the sole remaining towers. Soaking wet and surrounded by large bodies of water, Baran ends up on the defensive; if he were to use his lightning, he risked electrocuting himself. Jin-woo was also in an environment that favored him, and the Demon King could not pinpoint his whereabouts while he was swimming underwater.

Even with this advantage, the gap in power was still significant between the two. Knowing this, Jin-woo doesn’t allow him a moment of reprieve. He uses his tail to project his body from the currents and launches at the Demon King with his daggers. The demon responds in kind, countering his onslaught with a flurry of strikes from his own weapons. Jin-woo holds his own against the extraordinary speed of Baran’s slashes. But he was low on mana, and fatigue was rapidly building up. While oceanic magic was incredibly effective, it incurred a high cost of mana. This, coupled with an extended exposure to a dry, fiery atmosphere, was having a seriously detrimental effect on his endurance. It was time to end the battle after dragging it out for so long. Jin-woo just needed an opportunity to catch the demon off guard– 

Klang!

A loud noise reverberates in the dungeon as a lance ricochets off Baran’s head. The demon redirects his focus to the sheepish face of Esil. Huh? I thought I told her to head for higher ground. When did she…? Jin-woo ponders briefly before banishing the thought. He requested a distraction, and someone kindly provided him with one. He wasn’t about to squander his only chance.

Using Baran’s hesitation to his advantage, Jin-woo discards his short swords and sinks his fangs into the Demon King’s neck, crushing down on his windpipe. As Baran struggles to throw him off, Jin-woo unsheathes his claws and gouges out chunks of flesh. The demon howls in agony, his pained cries music to the siren’s ears. “How stupid of me,” Jin-woo sneers, his voice deepening in pitch as his actions became more monstrous, “I was fighting you like a man this entire time, when this is who I really am. Heh, I guess being disguised as a human for so long made me forget.”

Summoning all his strength, Jin-woo uses his muscular arms to tear Baran’s torso from his body. The vicious mauling completely eviscerates the demon, with only his entrails being left over in its wake. His victory now secured, Jin-woo exhaustedly slumps to the ground and reverts to his human appearance. The throes of battle destroyed most of his clothes, much to his chagrin. The only apparel that remained intact were his tattered jeans, and those only just spared his modesty. He scoffed in annoyance; he’d need to purchase a new wardrobe soon to make himself more presentable for you …

“Jin-woo, sir!” Esil dashes towards him with a worried look on her cute face. The siren smirks, satisfied despite the many setbacks he faced during this confrontation.

“Esil, tell your father the Radis clan is now the number one family.”

“Jin-woo sir,” the demon girl responds exasperatedly, “Our family name is Radir.”

6:00 AM, on the outskirts of Jindo Island…

Jin-woo deeply inhales the crisp morning air as he soars through the endless skies. Much had transpired in the short time between the conclusion of his showdown with Baran and now. He had gained the Purified Blood of the Demon Monarch, along with the World Tree Fragment, and Spring Water from Echo Forest. With these three components, he was at last able to craft the Holy Water of Life. Once finished, he cradled the precious vial in his palm, as if trying to ascertain proof of its existence. Afterwards, Jin-woo deposited it into his magical inventory for safekeeping.

Of course, the elixir was just one of the many spoils of war he had claimed. Kaisel, the wyvern who now served as his mount, was his for the taking after Baran’s death. The gift of flight had expedited the journey home, much to his joy. A rune stone had also provided him with the skill, ‘Shadow Exchange,' a means of trading places with any of his soldiers scattered throughout land and sea. Thanks to this new ability, he was able to leave that hellish landscape. After being gone for what felt like eons, Jin-woo was desperate to return. To his family. To Ashborn. To you.

He’s relieved when the familiar cityscape of Jindo-gun comes into view. He estimates it would take roughly 15 more minutes for them to arrive over the briny waters. However, before they can make it past the coastline, the spellbinding fragrance of bergamot and vanilla overwhelms Jin-woo’s senses. This could mean only one thing: you were nearby. The headiness of your musk had also gotten more potent in his absence, signifying your fertility.

“Fuck!” Jin-woo’s hisses as desire courses hot and heavy through his veins. He tries to resist the temptation of your pheromones, but you smelt so damn good; so ready and willing for him and his knot –

Jin-woo grunts as he bites down hard enough on his bottom lip to draw blood. The pain causes him to regain some mental clarity, and he wills himself to calm down. But it’s of no use. His thoughts were currently being clouded by lust and the instinctual drive to breed. Those two weeks he endured in the Demon’s Castle had significantly intensified his longing for you, and the pent-up sexual frustration was coming to a head. Jin-woo really had to nip this in the bud. His stamina was at its limit, and he was in no condition to be seen by you. The siren also desperately needed to go home and check in on his mother and Jin-ah. He was the only alpha and protector of their family after the disappearance of his father. He couldn’t afford to waste another—

The wind carries your scent as it blows past Jin-woo’s face a second time. It was as if you were beckoning him like some sort of enchantress. Unable to ignore your maddening aroma, Jin-woo at last gives in. He knew the decision he was about to make was foolish, reckless even. But he must heed the call of his omega.

He silently apologizes to his mother and Jin-ah and asks them to wait just a little longer. “I’ll only introduce myself… maybe I can even get her name,” he tries to reason with himself while slowly succumbing to delirium. His mind made up, Jin-woo commands Kaisel to deliver him to the area where your scent is the strongest. The wyvern then returns to the void shortly thereafter, leaving the worn out siren to his own devices.

Grainy sand molds against his bare feet as stumbles across the beach in search of you. “Shit. If this keeps up, I might not make it back to Mom and Jin-ah.” Jin-woo mumbles softly. He really was in poor form. Maybe it had been a mistake to depart immediately for Jindo island without taking a break in between. Damn. 

As black spots start to obscure his vision, Jin-woo’s gaze finally lands on you. His lips quirk into a tired smile. Even through blurry eyes, you looked absolutely stunning while standing in the sunlight. Like an earthly goddess.

With his consciousness ebbing further and further away, the siren musters up the last of his energy to stagger towards you. He makes it only two steps before his body gives out and he collapses. Rather than hitting the hard ground, a soft and warm embrace met Jin-woo. He blearily cracks open an eye, curious about what broke his fall. It was at that moment your lovely, albeit worried face greeted him. Pretty, he thinks, exhaustion finally taking its toll on him. The last thing Jin-woo remembers before the darkness overtakes him is the soothing smell of bergamot and vanilla.

Two weeks ago, someone or something had been watching you. It was during the first day of filming the mystery-thriller, ‘Murder on the Cerulean Sea’, a passion project by renowned producer, Go Gun-hee. The man had an incredible work ethic, with a career spanning over 40 years and numerous accolades to his name. He had recently come out of retirement, and the entertainment industry was buzzing with anticipation. Known as a cinematic miracle maker, every motion picture Go Gun-hee produced set box office records. Suffice to say, you had been over the moon after finding out you were amongst the few who made the cut for makeup artists hired to work on set. Although the instant you found out where the filming location was to take place, you immediately felt your enthusiasm dampen. Jindo-gun. At one point, this had been your home. Now, it was but a distant memory.

You had spent most of your childhood on the island of Jindo. Its scenic beaches, sprawling forests, and crystalline waters made it ideal for shooting a film based on a luxury yacht charter. There was one major caveat however: the sirens. Several pods of these unpredictable creatures resided off the coast of Jindo, and the alphas were infamous for their aggression, especially during the height of the mating season.

Growing up, your parents warned you time and time again not to walk alone along the shores at night. "Don’t ever go to the beach by yourself after dark," your mother had signed this to you almost every day. A constant reminder to stay safe and vigilant of your surroundings. Townsfolk also gossiped and shared sordid stories about the lost souls who fell victim to the sirens. But this wasn’t just word of mouth, a child’s fairytale, or mere superstition. These deadly apex predators were very much real, and a troublingly high number of homicides were committed by them each year. Unfortunately, this did little to dissuade foolhardy tourists and arrogant fishermen from pouring into the island during the hotter months of spring and summer.

Eager to escape the foreboding atmosphere, you had applied to and been accepted into a 2-year cosmetology program in Busan shortly after finishing high school. Makeup had always been a strong interest of yours and with the support of both your parents you flourished in your craft.

Although you had been nervous about the transition from quaint suburbia to the big city life, you found yourself quickly growing accustomed to the fast-paced environment. Your school had also been very accommodating, providing you with a sign language interpreter and captioning services for your classes. A kindhearted young woman by the name of Lee Joohee had been assigned as your interpreter during your time in Busan. You became fast friends and remained close even after graduation.

After receiving your license, you relocated to a small apartment in Seoul and began working as a hair and makeup artist in stage productions, commercials, and musicals. You greatly enjoyed the creativity and networking opportunities of your profession, often getting to bump shoulders with many well-known actors and actresses. Within a few years, your portfolio grew considerably. This enabled you to broaden your horizons by breaking into the film industry. ‘Murder on the Cerulean Sea,’ would be your first foray into this competitive market and you wanted to prove yourself as a newcomer to the scene. So, despite your reservations, you begrudgingly agreed to board the private jet headed for Jindo island.

If you recall correctly, the mating season for the sirens wouldn’t take place for another four months, so everything should proceed without a hitch… right?  

You began to feel a little more at ease when you found out Cha Hae-In and Yoo Jinho were cast in major roles in the movie. You had first met them when they were both burgeoning stage actors. Cha was surprisingly camera shy and preferred to keep a more subdued profile whereas Jinho was outgoing and incredibly humble despite his privileged background. The bubbly brunet was the youngest son of the chairman of Yoojin Construction Company, a major industrial conglomerate in South Korea.

Although you came from different walks of life, the three of you had hit it off right away, finding common ground in your passions for campy horror films. You even taught them a few signs, and this inspired Jinho to devote himself fully to learning sign language. Cha also practiced her signs with you whenever she had the chance, but her busy schedule often made it difficult for her to find spare time. Nevertheless, you were deeply touched by the efforts made by both of your friends.

While taking a break on set, you felt a pair of eyes boring into you as you were relaxing with Cha and Jinho. At first, you chalked it up to paranoia. It had been years since you visited the island, and you’d nearly forgotten how oppressive the ocean seemed at night. But it was the middle of May. The mating season for the sirens would not take place until September at the earliest. Regardless, the sensation of being watched still lingered even after the mysterious presence had left.

There was also the enthralling scent of lavender and sandalwood thickly permeating the air. It had a distinctly masculine undertone to it that had piqued your interest. It was far too strong to be from a couple spritzes of cologne or perfume, yet more subtle than the pungent smell emanating from many of the alphas who composed the cast and crew onboard the yacht. Their musk was overbearing at best, but this fragrance was entirely different. It was sweet. Delicate. Intoxicating…

You had to find the source of it. Making up an excuse about wanting to get more fresh air, you stay behind on the deck of the ship while your friends return to their accommodations to retire for the evening. As you lean over the railing to scope out the scent, an intense wave of heat suddenly ignites in your lower belly causing you to gasp and buckle at the knees. It briefly lingers in your abdomen before shooting directly to your core. You bite back a moan as your eyes flutter shut from the pleasure spreading throughout your body. Slowly but surely, you were entering into a primal state; one of pure unbridled arousal. You should be concerned. No, you should be horrified. You were so vulnerable, so out of sorts. And yet…

You had never felt so exhilarated. It was as if ecstasy became you. You were ascending higher and higher to parts unknown, all semblance of rationality long since abandoned. The coil in your gut was wound so tight, it was at its breaking point. If this continued, you would inevitably plummet over the edge and succumb to your baser instincts –  

The metallic odor of copper violently infiltrates the air, abruptly bringing you back to your senses. Your eyes bolt open, and you release a shaky breath. You’re surprised to find yourself on your knees. They must’ve given out on you at some point. However, your shock shifts to horror when you catch sight of an unruly mop of purple hair from the corner of your eye.

It could only belong to one individual: Kang Taeshik.

Shit. You’d been acquainted with the man just yesterday, but he terrified you. Taeshik was an up-and-coming actor on the scene; one who excelled in any role he played. In spite of this, the first impression he left on you was enough to make you keep your distance. Although Taeshik’s demeanor was docile, there was a cold and calculating look in his eyes that made you shudder. It reminded you of a predator eyeing its prey. The most off-putting aspect of the man, however, was his stomach-churning scent. He positively reeked of blood.

You could feel panic setting in as he began to saunter towards you, a lascivious smirk spread across his face like a dark promise. You’re unable to rise to your feet, still weakened and lightheaded from the erotic sensations affecting you earlier. Worse yet, you feel a lump in your throat, making it difficult to shout or scream for help should the need arise. You were essentially cornered, defenseless, and alone with a menacing alpha. And if the pungency of his musk was anything to go by, he was on the verge of a rut. You sink back into yourself in fear and begin to tremble uncontrollably.

You can see Taeshik’s mouth moving as he closes in on you. You’d become adept at lip reading over the years, although it was difficult to decipher everything he was saying in the darkness. The only words that you can make out are "little omega" and "whore." Your blood curdles. Someone, anyone, please help me! You silently plead, knowing it was futile. For a moment, you foolishly imagine the owner of that enticing scent coming to your rescue.

Thankfully, just before Taeshik can grab you, a large hand envelops his wrist in a vice grip.

The purple haired nightmare cants his gaze to the side and narrows his eyes. He’s greeted by the furious expression of none other than the film’s director, Woo Jinchul. Relief floods your chest at the sight of him. Thank God, you think.

Taeshik rips his arm away and leaps back, creating some distance between himself and the taller man. Jinchul quickly assumes a protective stance in front of you. His broad back prevented you from seeing your would-be assailant, something you were extremely grateful for. For a few tense moments, you can only sit and stare at Jinchul’s imposing figure as he confronts the other man.

Despite how scared you are, you wish you could partake in the conversation if only to defend yourself. Taeshik may try to manipulate the situation by implicating you as an instigator or seductress, something many male actors in the industry unfortunately got away with due to their connections or wealth. It was despicable and made you seethe with anger at the salacious lies and rumors spread by the press and social media.

After several minutes, Taeshik departs with nary but a shrug of indifference. Apparently Jinchul’s status and power as director did nothing to intimidate him. He waits until Taeshik’s figure disappears before turning to face you. There’s an uncharacteristic warmth in his usually hard gaze, and you’re able to catch a whiff of his natural scent: cardamom and cedarwood, a calming combination.

Jinchul gently offers his hand and effortlessly hoists you to your feet. Your legs are still somewhat stiff but functional now. He permits you to steady yourself by grasping onto his shoulders and it doesn’t escape you how oddly intimate these actions are. As if to further prove this, Jinchul, in a strange display of affection, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your breath hitches.

A beat passes before the realization of what he just did hits him. Jinchul’s eyes widen, and he quickly snatches his hand back as if he was scalded. And was it your imagination, or were his ears turning pink? He awkwardly clears his throat before opening his mouth. ‘Are you alright? Did Taeshik harm you in any way?’ You read his lips closely, appreciating the pauses and slow enunciation of his words. Jinchul was aware that you could lip read rather efficiently, and this made it easier to communicate with him since he would not have to always rely on an interpreter.

You shake your head and see him breathing a sigh of relief. ‘He won’t ever be allowed near you again; I will make sure of it.’ Jinchul is back to his usual no-nonsense demeanor it seems. But what had caused him to act so… tender towards you? And Taeshik? The man had always been creepy and taciturn, but he never went out of his way to torment you. If Jinchul hadn’t arrived at just the right time, you could have been assaulted. You feel bile rising to your throat at the thought. Why was this happening? You were always careful and made sure to take your heat suppressants every day. None of the alphas you worked with had ever tried to hurt you before, so why? Unless you were going into heat, but that shouldn’t be possible…

You suddenly break into a sob, overcome with emotion. Your distress causes Jinchul to spring into action. He promptly removes his blazer and drapes it over your shoulders to ward off the chill of the night. Jinchul then produces an embellished handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to you. He hesitates before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and his lips move again. ‘I’m here for you,’ he mouths. You wipe away the tears with the handkerchief and stifle your cries into its soft fabric. All the while, Jinchul remains by your side and grants you as much time as you need to collect yourself. When the tears finally run their course, you lower the ruined cloth from your face and chance a timid glance at him.

Jinchul regards you with a pensive expression on his sharp features. He withdraws his hand from your shoulder and reaches back into his pocket to pull out his phone. He then begins typing away and once finished with his message, he hands the device over to you, displaying the contents of his notebook app.

"As director of this film, I want you to know that I will always prioritize the wellbeing of our cast and crew. With that being said, the actions I witnessed Kang Taeshik commit tonight were morally reprehensible. I won’t disclose the full details of the discussion I had with him, as I do not wish to cause you any further emotional distress. I will say that I can personally attest to the fact that Kang Taeshik sought to menace and harm you while you were in a vulnerable state of heat."

You feel your heart sink into the pit of your stomach as you skim over the last sentence. So Jinchul knew you had unexpectedly gone into heat? Of course he would; he was an alpha. How could you have been so stupid? The director was most certainly going to see you as a liability now… you may even end up losing your job.

You reluctantly force yourself to continue reading. If this to be the conclusion of your tenure, then at least you would see it through to the bitter end.

"Please do not blame yourself for what has happened. Your disposition as an omega has no bearing on your contract or employment, nor does it offer an excuse for an alpha, or anyone for that matter, to harass you. It is with impartial and sound judgment that I have made the executive decision to terminate Kang Taeshik and remove him from production effective immediately. This will cause some inevitable delays, but an impromptu casting call can be arranged in the meantime. I’m willing to run over schedule if it guarantees everyone’s safety."

You exhale and feel all the tension dissipate from your body. So, you weren’t the one being let go, Taeshik was. You hadn’t known much about Woo Jinchul beforehand, but you were thankful that he was a man of good character. This was becoming exceedingly rare in an industry composed of unscrupulous and morally bankrupt members of the upper echelons.

You type back a response before handing him his phone.

"I am so sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I really don’t understand what happened. I’ve been taking suppressants for years, and an alpha has never tried to threaten me before. Thank you for stepping in to protect me. I really don’t know what he was planning to do."

You couldn’t help but apologize even though Jinchul had vindicated you. What leaves you reeling, however, is the reply he gives you when the mobile device is back in your hands.

"I should be the one to apologize, not you. My behavior towards you earlier was incredibly uncouth, and for that, I am deeply sorry. As director, I should be conducting myself in a manner that is more befitting. Instead, I allowed my instincts as an alpha to impair my judgement. I promise this shall not happen again."

Uncouth behavior? Did he mean when he was brushing your hair from your face? How could he be apologetic about something so innocuous?  The implications don’t fully register until you replay that last sentence: My instincts as an alpha. Instincts…alpha…!?!

He was reacting to your pheromones.

That evening, Jinchul insisted on having you treated at the on-site infirmary. Alas, with few medical staff and even less equipment it was difficult to determine what was causing your symptoms. Was it possible your medication was no longer working? Omega suppressants were highly effective, but that didn’t mean they were infallible. A missed dose or interaction with another drug could negate the effects. But you weren’t taking any other medications, and you never missed a dose.

Needing a second opinion, you were transported to the emergency room at a nearby hospital for further evaluation. Jinchul had opted to let Cha and Jinho drive you there after explaining your circumstances to them (minus the issue with Kang Taeshik; he was keeping it under wraps for now). Unlike him, they were both betas which made them immune to your pheromones.

You ended up being kept overnight for observation. After running a series of tests, including labs to assess your hormones and an ultrasound, you were found to be undergoing a pseudo estrus or ‘false heat’ as it’s more commonly referred to.

Unlike a regular heat, a false heat occurs only when a highly compatible alpha is within close vicinity of an omega. This in turn triggers a massive release of pheromones leading to an increase in libido, fever-like symptoms, cramping, and fatigue. Whoever this alpha was, their presence was so virile that your heat suppressants were fully canceled out by them.

You were questioned extensively about your experience by the healthcare team. "Do you have any partners? Are you sexually active? Is there anyone you work with who is an alpha? When did you first start experiencing the signs of your heat?" The list was never-ending. With the help of an interpreter, you answered everything to the best of your ability. And by the end of it all, you were still at a loss.

No one on that yacht had been emitting that scent, you were sure of it. It had to have been someone wholly unrelated. Perhaps a fisherman or a swimmer? But it was late and everyone who was local to the island knew better than to risk the waters at night. Everyone except you and the entourage on board the yacht, that is.

Frustrated, you eventually gave up on trying to figure out the identity of your potential mate. Your physician, a compassionate fellow omega by the name of Min Byung-Gu, strongly recommended an entire week of bed rest for you. This was to serve as a means of letting the heat cycle run its course. You were also provided with prescription medications to alleviate your symptoms.

Resting was crucial. Any physical stress or strain could worsen your condition, and omegas were particularly susceptible to injury or illness while at their sexual peak. In addition to this, your doctor recommended ceasing all contact with alphas, effectively barring you from returning to work. You were crestfallen at this, but you acquiesced knowing it was for the sake of your recovery.

To avoid any mishaps, Jinchul arranged for you to stay in a penthouse for the time being. The lavish suite was situated on the very top floor of a deluxe condominium, affording you all the personal comforts and privacy you would need. You couldn’t help but snort when you opened the door to your new living quarters. It was like you were a goddamn princess trapped in a tower.

As if that wasn’t enough, your boss had also hired two very intimidating bodyguards. Both were betas who had been tasked with protecting you during your heat. The first to be introduced was a hulking beast of a man called Thomas Andre. He was huge, with a herculean frame that looked to be made of steel rather than flesh and blood. A wild mane of blonde hair and intricate patterns of black ink also adorned his chest and arms, making him even more imposing.

The disarming smile he gives you is anything but, however. He’s also surprisingly gentle with you when he shakes your hand.

Your other bodyguard had a physicality that was far less egregious, but his razor-edged gaze, unnervingly calm composure, and the bulging muscles of his arms revealed a powerful aura that was not to be underestimated. This man had gone by the name of Liu Zhigang, a master swordsman of the highest caliber and one of the strongest individuals in China.

He too, had been unexpectedly friendly, even going so far as to ruffle your hair and calling you a “good girl,” in his native language. Your interpreter had been particularly scandalized while signing this to you after you were insistent on finding out what he said. You, on the other hand, thought it was rather cute, especially when juxtaposed with his tough guy image. There had also been no ill intent or malice in his words; he was being genuinely amiable to you, just as Thomas Andre had been.

Perhaps you could make do with this situation. But you could only imagine how hefty of a price tag these two highly skilled warriors could warrant. Jinchul was sparing absolutely no expense on you. He must have felt terribly guilty about your traumatic experience that night…

You make a vow with yourself not to take his generosity for granted.

And so, the next week passes by rather uneventfully. You ended up becoming stir crazy right from the beginning. You had been so accustomed to the fast-paced lifestyle of a makeup artist and hair stylist that the very concept of wasting the day away seemed foreign. Gone were the 12–14-hour shifts that had once encompassed your daily routine. It was maddening, this sudden lack of purpose.

Sleeping, reading, eating, and binge-watching dramas with closed captioning had been your main escape from the dullness of being confined to bed all day. No one, not even your parents, Jinho, or Cha had been permitted to visit you while on bedrest. Jinchul and Min Byung-Gu had advised you to limit all external stimulation while you were in heat. You understood the importance of this, but it did nothing to prepare you for the overwhelming loneliness that awaited you.

Sure, your bodyguards had been cordial to you, but they were preoccupied with keeping watch over the premises and warding off any intruders. Neither one had time to engage with you beyond a simple greeting or farewell. Even your interpreter kept her presence scarce, coming only twice per day to check in with you and to relay messages from your friends, family, and the director.

It was as if you were a bird in a gilded cage. Locked away, out of sight, and out of mind. You hated every second of it. You wanted to curse the cruel hand you were dealt, to resent the alpha who had caused you all this misery in the first place. But…

You couldn’t bring yourself to do it no matter how unbearable the isolation became.

Once those seven agonizingly slow days were over and done, you were given medical clearance to resume your job. You never thought you would be so happy to work again. Of course, you still had some restrictions in place. Jinchul wanted you to take it easy, so he requested that you work no more than 4-6 hours per day. At this point, you were willing to do anything if it kept you out of that forlorn penthouse.

In addition to this, you were prescribed a significantly higher dosage of oral heat suppressants. It was to be used as a prophylactic to ensure you would not enter a second heat. The side-effects had been merciful, with nothing more than the occasional bout of nausea and a loss of appetite to show for.

Jinho and Cha were ecstatic to see you again, although your other colleagues were far less enthusiastic. The attentiveness and apparent favoritism towards you by the director did not go unnoticed. You were predictably met with the cold shoulder by many of your peers upon your return. It didn’t help that Jinchul had kept the confrontation between him and Taeshik confidential. Only executive producer Go and your bodyguards were made aware. This was done to protect you and to prevent the besmirching of your character by the media. The rest of the cast and crew had simply been told that Taeshik had departed from the film due to ‘irreconcilable and creative differences.’ The purple haired man’s PR team, for their part, also appeared to be going with this story.

Frankly, you could care less about what your coworkers thought of you. You were just glad that you never had to be around a horrible psychopath like Taeshik ever again. Cha and Jinho, on the other hand, had taken it upon themselves to act as your newly appointed bodyguards in Thomas’s and Zhigang’s stead. Any nasty gossip or snide remarks were met with a frosty glare from the blonde woman and threats of litigation from the heir apparent of Yoojin Construction.

You couldn’t have asked for better friends or a more considerate boss, but you were starting to find the constant protection and coddling from them to be too much. You were a woman with her own autonomy after all. And yet you were being treated like a piece of glass, as if you would shatter with the slightest gust of wind. It was suffocating and your newly toxic work environment certainly wasn’t making matters any better.

To keep yourself grounded (and from going insane) you had taken to embarking on early morning walks along the beach. The peace and tranquility were a welcome solace from the tumultuous reality of your situation. You could spend hours getting lost in the beauty of the dawning sun.

You should have known this temporary serenity was not to last.

That Sunday had started out much like any other morning. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, changed into a pair of leggings with a matching sports bra, and slid on some comfortable running shoes. It was a little before dawn, and you were hoping to catch the breathtaking sight of the sunrise along the sandy marshes of the island. You weren’t scheduled to work, so you had all the time in the world to explore and enjoy nature. You planned to make the most of it.

You start off by walking to a well-known bakery to purchase some freshly made kkwabaegi. The crispiness of the fried dough complements your coffee perfectly. After eating your sweet treat, you continue your journey, heading southbound for a local beach. The area was usually a tourist trap in the summer, but it was much less populated at this time of day.

The moment your foot connects with the sand, you are instantly hit by the familiar smell of lavender and sandalwood. You begin to panic.

 Shit! It was that alpha from a few weeks ago!

You know the right thing to do, the reasonable thing to do, would be to turn back and run. You were all alone in a secluded area with someone who was potentially dangerous. The last time you were near them, you had been rendered completely helpless just from their pheromones alone. If you got too close to them, you could end up going into another heat.

The other possibilities were more nightmarish. You’d heard horror stories about depraved alphas who would kidnap omegas and force them into becoming their mates against their will. Dominance amongst alphas these days was often synonymous with entitlement, something many of them would use to justify their disgusting actions. If this person nearby was of the same barbaric mindset…

Despite the storm of conflicting emotions raging within you, you remain rooted to the spot. It was just no use; you couldn’t convince yourself to retreat. Curiosity and the need for closure far outweighed your fear and anxiety. You had to find out the identity of this individual, regardless of the risk.

You steel yourself before nervously trudging in the direction of the scent. For whatever reason, the strength of the alpha’s pheromones was nowhere near the same extent as it was on that night. It was soothing this time, like a hot shower at the end of an exhausting day. Had the increased dose of your heat suppressants been responsible for this? Well, no use in questioning it now.

As the aroma grows stronger, you find yourself heading closer towards the sea. The sun was starting to peak over the tussling waves, and you briefly turned your head to avoid receiving an eyeful of blinding light. It’s in the periphery of your vision that you finally see him: the alpha that had been evading you for so long.

Even from a several yards away, you can tell he’s quite tall; standing at a height of around 185 cm. He’s also naked from the waist up, with only a pair of shredded jeans on his figure. But what captivates you most is the feverishness and intensity of his gaze. No one had ever looked at you like this before. It was almost reverent. Like you were some kind of deity.

The man staggers towards you slowly. Had he been hurt? There didn’t appear to be a scratch on him, although his remaining clothes were a mess. You reason that he must be experiencing heat exhaustion. This would explain why he had taken off his shirt. Your hackles lowered, you decide to throw caution to the wind and approach the man.

His body gives out just as you begin to close the distance between the two of you. You immediately pick up the pace, turning your walk into a jog. You’re able to catch him right before he falls face first into the sand. That was a close one, you think, releasing a breath you weren’t even aware you were holding. You’re able to fully take in the man’s appearance now that he was close enough to hold.

He was unspeakably handsome. As a stylist in the entertainment industry, you’ve seen your fair share of gorgeous celebrities. But all of them paled in comparison to the robust beauty of the man before you. Unblemished olive skin that was smooth to the touch. Silken ebony tresses that you were tempted to run your fingers through. And a God-like physique that had your pulse quickening. What you’d give to caress the rippling muscles of his torso...

Just who in the world was this ethereal alpha? And how was he able to sleep so soundly in the arms of a virtual stranger? The man had even nuzzled his face in between the valley of your breasts as if it was the most natural thing on earth! Oddly enough, you weren’t put off by his actions. In fact, you found them to be endearing. Was this what it was like to form a predestined bond with someone?

You briefly consider texting your friends to get help for the man but decide against it once you start weighing your options. If he was transported to the hospital, there was a chance he would be forcibly separated from you. What’s more, if it was found out that he was the one who caused your false heat, there could be far reaching consequences. You were still being monitored on set, and Jinchul might deem this man to be a threat to you.

He didn’t look to be injured, at least not physically, so you rule out the hospital. You deliberate for a few more minutes before ultimately choosing to wait and bide your time until he regained consciousness.

The two of you remain entangled in this strange embrace as stunning shades of orange, red, and yellow paint the sky. The waves shine incandescently in the sunlight, and you find yourself facing the ocean, distracted by its splendor. After a few minutes, you feel something shifting in your arms.

You return your focus to the man. He’s finally started to stir, groggily raising his head from your chest.  You both lock eyes, your wide-eyed gaze contrasting with his half lidded one. You see his chapped lips open and close, mouthing only one word: 'Omega.'

You feel a shiver run down your spine. Alpha, your inner omega silently preens, instinct taking over.

The man attempts to talk to you again, but you hush him with the gentle press of your index finger to his lips. He obeys right away and makes no further efforts to speak. You had many questions that you wanted to ask, but that could wait for just a little longer. Your alph – no, this alpha, was in desperate need of some water. He looked awfully parched.

You unzip the tote bag you brought with you and sift through its contents before producing a canteen filled with water. You open it and push the lid to his mouth, motioning for him to drink. He follows your orders without a second thought, taking several generous gulps. Rivulets of excess water drip from the corner of his mouth, down his Adam’s apple, and you find yourself getting distracted by his body again. You internally curse as you feel yourself growing wet. You discreetly press your thighs together, hoping to dull the ache building between them.

You fail to notice the flare of the man’s nostrils or his blown-out pupils as he watches your actions from the corner of his eye.

When he’s finally had his fill, you cap your canteen and place it to the side. You then reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. The man shoots you an uneasy look when he sees it in your hand. Was he unfamiliar with mobile devices? You type a quick message in your notebook app and turn the screen towards him.

“I’m going to use my phone to communicate with you because I have a hearing impairment. Is that alright? I just want to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

The boyish look of surprise that crosses his face while he reads doesn’t escape you. He must not have been expecting you to be deaf. You anxiously await his response, unsure of what his reaction will be.

His expression morphs into something akin to barely concealed wonder, and he nods his head. You breathe deep and type away on your phone again. Your next message elaborates on your concerns.

"First, can you tell me if you’re in any pain or if you’re injured? If you are, I can get an ambulance for you. My name is Y/N, by the way.”

His eyes quickly flit over your words. In response, he dips one of his fingers into the wet sand. You’re curious at first, until you start to recognize the shapes that he’s drawing as letters. Why was he writing in the sand? Was he not comfortable with using your phone?

Once finished, his message reads:

“I’m unharmed. I do not need help. Thank you for the water.”

Great, so he wasn’t hurt. Now you can finally focus on getting some damn answers!

You start typing furiously, pouring all your heart into unspoken anger. As soon as you’re finished you nearly slam the mobile device into the man’s face. He blinks owlishly, looking adorably confused by your actions. You don’t know whether you want to slap or kiss him.

“Now that I know you’re okay, can you please answer a few questions for me? Tell me, were you sailing near a large yacht a few weeks ago? There was this scent that day, an alpha’s scent. It smelt incredible. Ever since then, I’ve been trying to find this person. And then I came across you! You have the exact same smell as them! And you’re obviously an alpha yourself since you recognized me as an omega right away.  Please, just tell me who you are! I ended up going into heat because of that alpha, and I feel like I’ve been losing my mind over them!”

The man’s face flickers from shock to guilt as he reads your explosive words. You regret typing them almost immediately when you see the sadness in his steel gray eyes.

He tries to use your phone to write back, but he’s clumsy and ends up swiping his fingers over a bunch of random characters. He huffs and bites his lip, clearly embarrassed. Crap, now you were feeling even worse about unleashing your tirade on him. You’ve always had a temper on you, and it often led to you lashing out and hurting the people you cherished most. And now you had allowed your mounting frustration to get the better of you in front of this poor man. For all you knew, he could be an innocent bystander who was just trying to get some help after becoming overheated.

You had to set things right.

You gently take the phone from the man’s hands, place it in your lap, and cup his cheek. He nervously glances at you, afraid that you’ll still be mad at him. But he’s greeted by your warm smile instead. Reassured, his shoulders relax, and he leans into your touch. After a few moments, you withdraw your hand, eager to continue the conversation. You can’t help but mourn the loss of contact as you resume your typing, however. Your next message reads:

“I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have taken out all my anger on you, especially when you probably don’t have anything to do with this. Please, allow me to start all over again and explain everything to you. Just so I can confirm if you’re the same person I bumped into several days ago. And don’t worry about having to use my phone. I’ve got a pen and a notebook you can write on.”

His eyes take on a hopeful sheen, and you have to force yourself to part from him in order to get to your bag. He really was too charming for his own good, this strange alpha…

That reminds you, you still hadn’t gotten his name!

Once the writing utensils are given to him, he starts scribbling away. His chicken scratch is barely legible, but it was better than nothing. Your handwriting wasn’t necessarily the best either, if you were being honest. He wrote:

“Omega, you are not at fault for anything. I should be the one asking for forgiveness. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most. My name is Sung Jin-woo, an alpha from Jindo-gun. I am the person who was exploring the area around that large boat several nights ago. I became worried when I smelt an omega’s scent. It was you; you were the omega I was seeking that day. I should have shown myself to you sooner. What happened to you after I left? Did any other alphas approach you?"

Sung Jin-woo, huh? It suited him. He had an oddly formal way of writing though, one that clashed with his youthful appearance. This time, you don’t miss the possessiveness in his eyes as he writes that last sentence.

‘Did any other alphas approach you?’

You gulp, reminiscing over the entire ordeal with Kang Taeshik. Should you even tell Jin-woo? By now the problem had been resolved and Taeshik was already fired. There was no reason for you to make Jin-woo feel even worse about causing your heat.

In the end, you choose not to mention Taeshik. He was out of the picture, and you didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

You resume typing in your notebook app, your response stating:

“No, not really. My boss found me on the verge of passing out, though. He’s an alpha so he could tell why I wasn’t feeling well. I was taken to a hospital by my friends since they’re both betas. I had to stay in bed for a week, but as you can already tell I’m alright now. I’m just glad I was finally able to meet you, Jin-woo 😊 You see, I work on that big ship. I’m a makeup artist and hair stylist, and the yacht is the set for a movie that’s being filmed…”

The next few hours pass in companiable silence as you communicate through pen strokes and text messages. Both you and Jin-woo had shared a considerable amount about one another over this time span.

You learn that Jin-woo had grown up on the island, much like you. He lived with his mother and little sister on the outskirts of town and served as the sole provider of the family after his father passed away. When you question what he did for a living, he paused before writing he was a fisherman. This would explain why he was out so early in the morning. The most ideal times to fish were sunset and sunrise. But how had his clothes gotten torn up like that? When you asked, he merely answered that he fell off his boat and had almost gotten swept up in the propellor. Apparently, his shirt and pants had been destroyed by the turning of the blades. You were incredulous at first, given just how dangerous that sounded, but Jin-woo had a way of selling you with his words. You eventually found yourself believing him despite your previous skepticism. He must have also been fishing that night two weeks ago.

Jin-woo had asked you many questions as well. He seemed particularly concerned about your heat cycle. When you disclosed the cause of it was your compatibility with him, his entire body tensed. Jin-woo’s hands then started to shake and you took one of them in your own to calm him. He glances at you, and you’re taken aback by the fire in his eyes. For the briefest of moments, you fear that you might’ve revealed something you shouldn’t have. Before you can compose an apology, Jin-woo releases your hand, picks up his pen, and starts writing again. Once finished, he gives you the notebook with an expression of apprehension on his face.

“Is this something you’re comfortable with? Now that we’ve met, I’m really interested in getting to know you more. But how do you feel about me? Do you want to continue this conversation? I understand if you’d want me to leave after everything you were forced to endure.”

How did you feel about him?

You mull over all that’s occurred since returning to your hometown. You had never expected to encounter so many trials and tribulations. By all accounts, you had every right to cease any further contact with Jin-woo. But you were undeniably intrigued by him. He had been nothing but respectful of your boundaries, and you found yourself being drawn in by his earnest personality. If nothing else came from this meeting between the two of you, then at least you could become friends.

You type an honest response and wait on bated breath as he reads it:

“I’m not sure how I feel about us right now. Honestly, I don’t believe in things like destiny or fate when it comes to finding a soulmate. But I do want to continue seeing you. I also would like to learn more about you as a person. Maybe we can take things slow and figure it out from there. What do you say, Jin-woo😉?”

All the anxiety seems to melt away from Jin-woo’s face. A cute grin tugs at his lips, lighting his darkened visage.

His answer is succinct:

“I’d really like that, Y/N.”

Your heart skips a beat. That was the first time he used your name.

A small part of you starts to wonder if the two of you really are fated to be together. Cheesy as it sounds, you were more than willing to take a chance on this budding relationship with Jin-woo.

Little did you know this meeting would set in motion a series of tragic events that would shatter countless lives and forever leave a stain on the island’s reputation.

🔱 To be continued...

Tag list 1:

🪼 @the-dumber-scaramouche @ghostdoodlen

@skylar896 @phisen @eliciana

Tag list 2:

🐬 @asylrd @mochinon-yah

[mrkestis]

I think we should lean more into Anakin Skywalker being a prophesied almost godlike entity, in the sense that his extreme force sensitivity should have more noticeable consequences. He should terrify and amaze everyone around him, all the while no one can fully understand or help him.

Give me young Anakin meditating for the first time in the temple and being completely overwhelmed, maybe screaming or crying, because he can sense everything. All the trillions of lifeforms on Coruscant are crowding his mind at once.

Show me Obi-Wan finding Anakin in the temple gardens surrounded by children and animals that were instinctively drawn to him, because he’s just that bright in the force. Even the plants tilt towards him like he’s the sun.

I want Anakin underestimating his own strength in training, breaking equipment, accidentally hurting someone or maybe himself. He looks at Obi-Wan with wide and terrified eyes because he fears that maybe this proves that he’s dangerous just like the council said. Obi-Wan ensures him that he just needs to learn control, but secretly worries that he’s not up for the task of training this boy. Maybe no one is.

Maybe Anakin sees and hears thing other people don’t. Sometimes he just stares into the distance and whispers ”do you sense that?”, causing Obi-Wan to freak out because no he doesn’t sense that but should he!?!?

Anakin often wakes up Obi-Wan in the middle of the night, frantic, because he senses something bad happening somewhere in the galaxy and they have to fix it. Obi-Wan has to console him and explain that they can’t because they don’t even know where to go, and Anakin can’t personally fix everything. The boy insists that if he’s the chosen one, isn’t that what he’s meant to do?

Give me a canon book about young Anakin, just turned Padawan, struggling with these things. Maybe with Obi-Wan following in Qui-Gon’s footsteps and looking into the old prophecies to understand both his old master and his new apprentice better.

[renstardust]

Two months.

It had been exactly two months since you fled the First Order, leaving behind your life as Apprentice beneath Commander Ren.

You left without any trace or explanation. Ren assumed you left because you didn’t think anyone would care; that they could track down another dark side loving Force-user with ease. He worried that maybe, you thought you were disposable.

It’s not like the lingering glances or touches between you and your Master meant anything anyway — it was all just business. Neither of you had time for feelings or any of that soft shit.

He assumed you’d think he wouldn’t care if you left. That if anything, he’d probably be relieved. That he could find someone older, stronger, more serious about being in one of the most sought after positions in the galaxy.

Kylo was losing his fucking mind, actually.

The worst part was that he could feel you. Everywhere. Not just in the Force signature you’d left behind that lingered in the cold, metal hallways of the Supremacy, or in your former quarters (the same quarters he now only visits once a day, sometimes twice), but he could feel you, out there, running about.

Driving him utterly insane.

He replayed every little conversation in his head, every moment you’d spent together: training sessions, meditations, meal times, quiet moments in cockpits during missions. Trying to piece together every memory, trying to figure out exactly when and how he screwed up.

What he did — or didn’t do — to keep you.

Losing you made Kylo realize how deeply he actually felt about you. The sound of your voice that he felt soothed by, the way your black clothes hugged your body in a manner that would make his pants feel uncomfortably tight, how graceful and calculative your combat skills looked, both in training and actual fights.

He missed the warmth of your scent. The softness of your hair. Those beautiful fucking eyes. Your little quirks, your sense of humor, your confidence, your occasional stubbornness, your persistence.

Gods, he missed you. You haunted his dreams, interrupted his meditation sessions, caused a tightness in his chest that hasn’t disappeared since the day you were suddenly gone.

As if you were never here to begin with.

Kylo’s lip trembled, tears pricking at his hazel eyes as he sat in his quarters after a particularly rough day of training with the Knights. He shook his head, shoving his feelings aside, including the everlasting urge to go sit in your old quarters across the hall and try to smell the barely-there scent of your perfume. He still hasn’t let the cleaning droids come near that room.

Was he….grieving you?

Should he go looking for you? Maybe he could coax you back-

“Why is everyone being a dick to me today?”

Your voice suddenly filled his quarters, pulling him from his daze, the metal door sliding shut behind you. Kylo blinked, tense as ever, quickly rising from his seat and adjusting himself. His eyes were wide, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted.

“I get it, I took a little leave to visit my family, but I really needed it, and I’m glad I did it. Two months without my datapad was really refreshing too. It’s not my fault everyone else here is married to their job.”

Kylo cleared his throat, confused as all hell.

“Apprentice-“

“Especially Hux! He looked at me like I was a ghost. I get that we aren’t on the greatest terms, but he could’ve at least acknowledged me with a nicety.”

“APPRENTICE.”

Your lips snapped shut, eyes widening at your Master’s stern, husky voice. The extra deep version that you only heard when he was at his breaking point.

“What, Kylo?”

“Where the hell have you been?”

“…On vacation? I sent everyone notice like three weeks before I left. And the night before…?”

“Nobody knew you went on vacation.”

“But Officer Mitaka told me to have fun before I left.”

A beat of silence. A creak of leather in Kylo’s gloved hands, now squeezing into big fists. Tight, trembling fists.

“Which database did you forward the notice to?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Eleven. I usually message in eleven.”

“Highest ranking officials message in database thirteen, Apprentice.”

Your pupils dilate, lips parting. “Fuck, is that why none of you guys reacted to the pictures I sent?”

Kylo didn’t know whether he wanted to kill you, or take you right then and there. Irritation and relief pulsed through his body simultaneously as he took in slow breaths of frustration. He was fucking pissed.

And so, so fucking happy.

You were here.

You never really left.

Kylo pulled his lips into his mouth, eyes darkening before he responded. “Medbay. Now. Let’s go.”

“Why?”

“I’m getting you tagged, Apprentice.”

[2stepadmiral]

After the reconstruction of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, Han Solo's constant presence at the Temple begins to confuse the younger knights and apprentices.

At first, it makes some degree of sense. He usually shows up with Leia or one of his kids, and he is well-known as a friend and ally of the Order, so it makes sense for him to eat meals with Jaina, or attend meetings with the Masters, or assist Corran Horn in overseeing pilot training, or walk little Ben around the Stealth-X hangar. Plus, Lando Calrissian, Wedge Antilles, Booster Terrik, and Talon Karrde, also prominent allies and friends, are frequent visitors as well, so it makes sense.

But one day, some of the apprentices start noticing that Han is around a little bit more often than a non-member really should be. Maybe its been a while since he came for a briefing or training exercise, and maybe his reasons to visit lately have become a little too casual. Now, he's showing up alone just to try out the flight simulators new Chiss clawcraft program, or because it's nerf sausage day in the cafeteria, and more often than not, its on days where his kids are off on missions and Luke and Mara are tied up in council business.

It reaches a whole new level during a pilot exercise led by Corran, Kyp, and Jaina, when one of the apprentices ask who's the best pilot they know, and three of the Order's premiere pilots, two of whom are Rogue Squadron veterans and all three of whom spent most of the Yuuzhan Vong war in a cockpit, unanimously agree on Han Solo.

Then, two months later, when the Temple's security system is being updated and Master Kyle Katarn gives strict orders that no one is to enter or exit the temple until the update is completed, Han casually walks right up to the two senior apprentices guarding the temple entrance. When told that there's a security lockdown due to system updates, Han doesn't "want to hear about security updates, I want to know where my wife is. It's our wedding anniversary and I'm taking her someplace nice in the Falcon, now tell me where she is so we can get going." After several minutes of arguing, a visibly frustrated Han decides to just go get her himself, and when one of the apprentices tries to stop him, Han somehow disarms him of his lightsaber and throws it outside of his telekinetic range, leaving him chasing after his weapon and his partner following Han, trying to talk him into stopping. All while Jaden Korr is watching, shaking his head, and mouthing, "You'll be sorry."

Han quickly finds Jedi Knight and former New Republic Chief of Staff, and SHOCKS the two apprentices with his absolute immunity to her infamous and feared anger before sweet talking the lifelong diplomat into leaving the temple in the middle of the lockdown for an anniversary escapade. Then, he casually walks out of the Jedi Temple in the middle of a security lockdown like it's kriffing nothing with one of the most prominent Knights in the Order. And when the two apprentices finally get a hold of Master Katarn to advise that Han Solo just infiltrated the Temple and absconded with Jedi Organa-Solo, his reaction is something like "<pause> and you idiots actually tried to stop him?" "Well, yes, Master, you said no one comes in or out." "<pause> Yes, but what in the Sithspit made you think that you should try to stop Han Solo from getting to his wife on their anniversary?"

A month after that, he walks up to the High Council chambers right in the middle of a serious meeting. The apprentices standing watch outside (one of the same from the security incident) assume that he's been summoned to answer to the rumors that he started hosting a weekly Sabaac tournament in one of the temple classrooms (the rumor is completely true, just last week Kenth Hamner nearly ragequit after Han cleaned him out for the fifth consecutive week) and assure him that the Masters will call him when they're ready for him. Han ignores this and walks right in, right as the masters are in the middle of a discussion about potential Dark Jedi sightings on Corellia, to demand that Mara make good on all the lost bets she owes from the previous few Sabaac nights. After several minutes heated discussion (the Dark Jedi are almost forgotten at this point), the entire council comes out, and Master Cilghal informs the incredulous apprentices that Mara owes Han so many lunches from the Sabaac nights that it was agreed that she would just treat the entire council, as well as Han, to clear her tab. Mara is semi-sternly lecturing Han about interrupting council meetings for something so trivial, while Han is good-naturedly wondering if she's been deliberately scheduling meetings at lunchtime to avoid paying up, causing her to go curiously quiet (the apprentices are FLOORED that the infamously terrifying Mara Jade Skywalker isn't plugging him full of laser bolts for this whole interaction).

As the last one to leave, Luke stops to ask the apprentices if they're okay, having sensed their immense confusion.

"Well, Grand Master, it's just... it seems like Captain Solo gets away with whatever he wants. It's like the rules don't apply to him, and some of us have been wondering..." she gulps before continuing. "If it's maybe possible that Captain Solo is secretly not only a Jedi, but more powerful than you, and secretly the real Grand Master of the Order."

Grand Master Luke Skywalker, completely unable to resist this particular urge, rubs his chin thoughtfully, pretends to carefully consider the question for a moment, and then, with a small grin, responds: "That's a interesting question, Apprentice. Perhaps he is," before walking away, grinning like mad, while the apprentices stare incredulously at his back.

[what-even-is-thiss]

I don’t think that a story needs to literally make sense in a nitpicky cinema sins type way. Like I write magical realism for gods sake, but I do think a story needs to consistently follow its own type of logic for the most part or else an audience will pick up on that.

I think the reason that something like “Somehow, Palpatine has returned” went over so badly was not because it’s impossible in the Star Wars universe for someone to come back from the dead or something. It’s because so far the new trilogy had a theme of the new generation being allowed to take over. Yoda burned the ancient texts, Kylo Ren continued the sith cycle of the apprentice replacing the master, the old heroes were dying off one by one. Solidly establishing itself as a new thing.

And then, oh no the old bad guy from the last two trilogies was secretly the bad guy in this one too! Oh no!

Like in some stories that would make sense. Not really in this one though.

In some stories there’s a giant elephant in the bathroom just because there’s a giant elephant in the bathroom and we don’t need to question that. In other types of stories you’re gonna need a damn good explanation for how and why the elephant got there.

If your movie has been established as a cheesy stupid martial arts comedy and your goofy protagonist kills a bunch of ninjas with breakdancing moves, that’s fine. I get that. But if you’ve been making a serious cop drama with intrigue, realism, and minimal amounts of gun combat and your hardened old detective kills people with breakdancing, your audience will be lost and confused.

You don’t have to get a degree in physics and fully understand the properties of magnets to put a big magnet in your story, but make sure it’s the type of story that would have a big magnet in it.

[starrdream]

My dearest nemesis

Anakin Skywalker x f!reader summary: Things get heated after seeing your fellow Jedi friend on a mission. includes: SMUT!!, top ani, doggy style in a spaceship, enemies with benefits

Being a Sith apprentice wasn’t very easy, especially not when you were sneaking away to hook up with a fellow Jedi any chance you got.

Seeing Anakin was always a difficult task. Together with your Master, you’ve been working against The Republic and Jedi order non-stop for years.

And the prophecy? It loomed over you. Anakin was the Chosen One, destined to destroy the Sith and bring peace to the galaxy.

Just this morning you were sent on a mission to destroy some of the Republic’s important bases.

The second you were given your ship, you knew it would be an awful trip, or worse, a potentially failed mission. The engine broke down before you could even take off, once It was fixed it was simply too loud. The hum was constant and obnoxious which meant you couldn’t get any sleep during the near 6 hour trip.

It was safe to say that you were exhausted when you arrived. You couldn’t even deny it yourself-your eyes were being forced open every few minutes, your connection with the force was sloppy and weak. You didn’t even know how you managed to disarm 3 out of the 4 bases stationed there.

It was getting darker and darker by the minute and it only made you more anxious and on edge. Time was not on your side.

Once you were inside the fourth one, you had to get rid of too many droids and clones for your liking.

You scrambled to deteriorate an alarm system as quickly as possible so you could escape without anyone noticing you. Thanks to your lack of sleep and recklessness, you managed to knock your lightsaber out your belt.

“Damnit..” You mutter quietly, bending over to pick it up quickly before the sound of it rolling around the tile floor could cause anyone to find you.

As quickly as you stood up you froze. The familiar sound of a lightsaber humming filled the room-unfortunately, it was not yours. You slowly turn around, cursing yourself for being so clumsy and careless.

“My dearest nemesis..” A familiar voice chuckled.

“Anakin” You breathe out in relief, shoulders and neck relaxing despite his lightsaber being mere inches from your face.

“I’m offended you hadn’t sensed me sooner” He feigns offense.

“The Force isn’t on my side today..” You say as he inches his weapon closer, causing you to tilt your head back more “Missed me yet?”

“Always.” He smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Without another word, he turned off his lightsaber and put it back in his belt before pulling you in. Grabbing your wrists, he pulls you into a hug, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling his face in your neck.

“Let’s get you out of here shall we?” He mumbles.

Bending you over the control panel of his spaceship, Anakin caressed your sides and mumbled into your ear, chest pressed against your bare back.

“You always run into me when I’m on missions..” He kisses the side of your neck, making you mewl “I’m supposed to be destroying the Sith.”

“Well you sure are about to destroy me..” You grind your hips against his teasingly, feeling his growing arousal strain against his robes.

“The things that come out of your mouth..” Anakin chuckles breathlessly, his grip tightens as he pulls away just enough to slide his pants off.

“You ready m’lady?” He says, parting your legs with his knee as you squirm and rub your ass against his pelvis

The second you nod, he slips two finges inside you, stretching you out slowly and thoroughly, causing your hips to buck against his hand and grind on it shamelessly.

“Always so wet and ready..” He groans at the feeling, pumping his fingers in and out a few more times before pulling out completely.

You whine at the loss of stimulation, pushing your hips further against him.

“Alright gorgeous, we’ll start..” Anakin chuckles, giving himself a few strokes as his tip presses up against your throbbing entrance.

A loud gasp escapes you as he slowly pushes himself inside, giving you a few seconds to adjust before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back balls deep. Your walls clamped tighter onto his cock, as if trying to pull him deeper.

He slams into you hard with every thrust, arm wrapping around your waist to keep you still while he fucks you senseless. The entirety of the ship’s cockpit was filled with sounds of balls clapping against your bottom, your desperate moans and Anakin’s ragged breaths and whimpers.

"Keep those pretty noises up for me yeah?" He bites on you shoulder gently.

With each powerful thrust he drove you closer to the edge, increasing your desire for the sweet release.

“Mmm pl-please Ani,” You whine. “H-harder” You cry out.

“I wonder wh-what your master’s gonna say.” His hand creeps up the back of your neck, pulling your head back slightly by the hair. “When you come back tomorrow, limping and all sensitive…Could you tell him you were railed by a Jedi?”

“F-no” You moan as you release all over his cock. He continues to thrust in and out, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from you.

“Didn’t-didn’t fucking think so..” He mumbles hoarsely as he finishes as well, filling you up with his sticky hot cum.

A few more thrusts and he pulls out , leaving you feeling empty and causing some of your mixed juices to slip out of your sensitive pussy and run down your inner thigh.

“Get out of here before the lookout troops find you, their shift starts in an hour” He gives your neck a firm kiss as he puts his robes back on, ushering you to do the same.

You get dressed too, straightening your hair out with your hands and adjusting your belt.

“See ya around y/n..” Anakin smirks, drawing out your name. “Don’t let the Jedi catch you again.” He winks, giving your ass a playful smack as you walk past him annoyed.

He might be an arrogant, childish idiot, but he was your arrogant, childish idiot.

[saphronethaleph]

“...because the council did not trust you, my young apprentice, I believe you are the only Jedi with no knowledge of this plot,” Sidious said, pulling on his cloak.

He frowned. “What are you doing, Vader?”

“I’m going to get proof,” Anakin replied, pressing some buttons on his comlink. “I don’t know if Obi-Wan was involved with the plot, and – I have to know.”

“Don’t-” Sidious began.

The comlink beeped, interrupting him, and Anakin lifted the device to his mouth.

“Obi-Wan!” he said.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan replied. “Good news – General Grievous is dead. I’ve lost my lightsaber, though.”

Anakin hid a snort. “Right – that’s, uh, really funny. Listen, I’ve got some good news too.”

“You have?” Obi-Wan replied. “Let’s hear it – down, Boga, down! Sorry, Anakin, she’s a bit excited… you were saying?”

“The Chancellor’s dead,” Anakin said, winking at Sidious.

“What?” Obi-Wan asked. “How is that good news – how did he die? I swear, I leave Coruscant for two days-”

“The Jedi killed him,” Anakin explained.

“Why?” Obi-Wan said, sounding completely and honestly baffled. “Which Jedi? I don’t think they could all do it, after the first couple of dozen there simply wouldn’t be any politician left if nothing else – but why would they do that?”

“Because he’s a Sith, I think,” Anakin said, then corrected himself. “Was a Sith, I mean. Because he’s definitely dead now.”

There was silence from the comlink for a couple of seconds, interrupted by a sort of rippling hwaa hwaa sound from some kind of animal, and some blasterfire.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin said.

“I’m sorry, Anakin, you did just drop an extremely large bombshell on me,” Obi-Wan said, sounding quite distracted now. “I’m rethinking the last several years. That means he was behind – he was behind the war, behind the invasion of Naboo, behind the assassination attempts on Padme, behind everything.”

Anakin blinked down at his comlink.

“...that’s… a good point,” he said, slowly, then glanced over at Sidious.

Who wasn’t where he’d been before.

Anakin kept turning, and saw that Sidious had pulled a bookshelf off the wall of his office and was halfway through getting into a concealed escape pod.

The Dark Lord of the Sith froze, staring back at Anakin.

“...there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this,” he said, waving his hand.

In hindsight, this would be the last error he would ever make.

Anakin was never one for perfectly reasonable explanations.

“...Anakin? Anakin?” Obi-Wan said, frowning at his comlink. “Anakin, you can’t just tell me something like that and then disappear… or, well, apparently you can but it’s very inconvenient.”

There seemed to be an awful lot of noise coming down the comlink, but none of it made much sense. In fact, it sounded like someone was testing a lightsaber in the middle of a thunderstorm, and Obi-Wan frowned at the little device before nearly losing his grip on it as Boga skidded to a halt next to Commander Cody.

“Sir,” Cody said, with a nod.

“Commander!” Obi-Wan replied. “Contact your troops – tell them to move to the higher levels. We’ll want to clear out this force and then move on Mustafar, though since the Sith Lord is dead that might actually mean this war is over soon.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir,” Cody replied, then tossed Obi-Wan his lightsaber.

Obi-Wan caught it. “Thank you, Commander! I do apologize-”

The comlink crackled again, and Obi-Wan dropped Boga’s reins so he could hold both devices at once without potentially cutting his head off. “Anakin!”

“Sorry about that, Master,” Anakin replied. “Bit of a workplace disagreement. Anyway, uh… Masters Windu, Fisto, Tiin and Kolar are all dead in the fight with the Chancellor. Please send help, there’s not many Councillors left and I don’t want to have to ask Master Nu what a quorum is…”

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, fondly. “I’m sure we’ll be able to rescue you from the deadly perils of procedure. Until then, ask Padme if you need advice.”

He paused.

“Do you have any names picked out yet, by the way? I’m quite partial to the name Ben. It has a nice sound to it, even as a middle name.”

He clicked the comlink off and set it to silent, smiling slightly.

“Getting the last word, General?” Cody asked.

“It’s about the only way I can, with Anakin, I find,” Obi-Wan agreed, pocketing the comlink. “Now, let’s see about clearing those upper levels. Come on, Boga!”