#IDK WHAT PROMPTED HIM TO ASK THIS

[nibbelraz]

sqq is mid

Mobei Jun trying to express that his husband is better than Junshangs

[buglaur]

she's live

now you can see what everyones height is in my head because i refuse to download height sliders. look at ass <3

[hailsatanacab]

@the-ghost-trader - ooooh, i love this! it has the potential to be so incredibly sad, too, like poor Damian just trying to carve out something normal for himself only for it blow up in his face

BUT, shockingly, i'm not about the angst today! not yet anyway 😇

---

“So, how was your day?”

Despite his answering groan, Damian likes this. This. This whole… thing he has with Danielle. With Ellie. 

And, yeah, he’s not exactly told any of the others yet, but can you blame him? For wanting to keep something, anything, to himself. Wanting to keep this small little slice of goodness he’s managed to carve out, untouched and unmarred by his family, by their other lives, by the rogues, the vigilantes, the assassins, everyone.

“That bad, huh?”

Being with Ellie is freeing. That’s the best way to describe it.

She knows. Damian surprised even himself when he told her—not about the others, mind, but he supposes it’s not hard to put two and two together and Dani has always been smarter than most—but it’s the best decision he’s ever made, and no matter what the niggling little voice in the back of his head says (the one that sounds suspiciously like Father), he can’t bring himself to regret it.

He won’t. Because having Ellie know gives him freedom.

She’s a safe place, a hand to hold, a warm, welcoming presence when things inevitably turn ugly. It’s the freedom to just be normal when everything else in his life spirals into stranger and more stressful missions.

“Richard is being insufferable again. I do not understand his incessant need to know everything about my life.”

“Oh? What’s he done now?” 

“I was subjected to an hour long interrogation about my love life, like it’s any of his business. It’s infuriating!”

“Ugh, tell me about it. I get the same thing from Jazz, constantly. It can be suffocating.” Ellie says as she curls herself tighter into his side. “But it’s just how they show they care.”

“Yes, well, sometimes I wish he wouldn’t—”

“Hey!” Ellie pushes herself up to glare at him, punctuating her shout with a soft whack to his arm for good measure. “What have I said about using that word?”

“Yes, yes,” he placates with a roll of his eyes, “‘Be careful what you wish for.’ I apologise, it won't happen again.”

“Damn straight it won't.”

She maintains eye contact with him for a second longer before tucking herself back into his side, squirming around with a long, contented hum that Damian can feel rumble through him. He smiles and doesn’t complain even when he has to shift to give her more room after a particularly strong elbow jabs him in the ribs. It means leaving the warm patch on the couch, but he’s rewarded with another long, happy moan as she settles and Damian can’t bring himself to mind.

Ellie constantly makes noises. Little mews and hums and laughs and songs known only to her. It reminds him of a cat, sometimes. He likes it. It calms him down; it means she’s happy, so he's happy.

They settle back into the cushions and Damian lets the subject drop, not wanting to spoil the moment. Outside, the wind changes direction and from where he’s laying he can watch as the snow starts to come down thick and heavy. Hopefully it’ll mean a quiet night's patrol.

“Is that why you haven’t introduced me yet?”

“What?” He can't help it, he stiffens at the thought of losing his secret, of the scrutiny he'll be inviting if he lets anyone know.

“Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?”

Damian’s eyes snap down quick to reassure her, only to see her light, teasing grin. He lets out a breath of relief. It figures she wouldn't worry about that.

“Of course not, don’t be absurd. You could never embarrass me.”

“I don’t know,” she muses, her voice taking on a dangerous lilt, “that sounds like a challenge.”

“Believe me, having been subjected to Father’s Brucie persona at every gala I’ve been to, it would take a lot to embarrass me.”

“Alright, bet. I’ll get you, just you wait.”

“You’ve already got me.”

She flicks him on the nose. “You’re such a sap.”

He hums his agreement, enjoying the tinkling sound of her laughter. And then, before he can think otherwise, he asks, “Is that why you haven’t introduced me?”

“That’s different,” she scowls. “You know how hard it is to get there, there’s no signal, and Danny only gets a break like—oh, Ancients!”

Damian gets another elbow to the ribs as she bolts upright, a manic grin on her face that has him laughing.

“What is it?”

“It’s the holidays! It’s nearly Truce Day! You know I said I had a family thing around Christmas?”

“Yes?” 

“Well, do you want to come to it? I can introduce you then! I mean, it’s going to be a bit formal and you’ll have to meet everyone, not just family. There’s going to be some banquets, you’ll have to sit through some long speeches and you have to be on your best behaviour at all times, okay? Absolutely no fighting, it’s called Truce Day for a reason!”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’ll be perfect! I think Jazz is going in a couple days earlier to help with the preparations, so I’ll get her to let Danny know—and fair warning, he will try to give you the shovel talk, but this is great! It’s Truce Day, so he can’t actually do anything about it!”

“I’m sorry, but you're going to have to explain a bit.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s a bit much—but that’s family, right? Danny can get pretty protective over me, which is why going on Truce Day is the best time to do it! He can’t even command the Fright Knight to stab you! It’s genius!”

“Ellie, what?”

“Like, yeah, sure, he’s the king, but even he has to obey the rules of Truce Day—and then once you’ve spent all day with him, he’ll see that you’re a fantastic, wonderful, kind, brilliant, smart, strong, capable person and he’ll get over himself and everything will be good!"

Damian collapses down onto the couch, the wind knocked out of him. This is… He had not expected anything like this at all. For all that Ellie talked about her family, she had never mentioned this.

“Did you… did you say your brother is a king?”

“Yeah! High King Phantom, have I…” The manic grin slips off her face as she turns round and notices Damian. “Have I not mentioned that before?”

“No. No, you have not.”

“Ah. Sorry. Probably should clarify that I’m also a princess.”

“Right. Yes, that follows.”

“And I’m not really his sister, I’m his clone.”

“What?”

Damian blinks and tries to say more, but he has no idea what he’s meant to do with… any of this information. 

Normal. He thought she was meant to be his normal. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

Not that it changed anything, of course, of that he was certain. It’s just… a lot to take in. Overwhelming. But it's okay! He takes a deep breath, and another, and a sense of calm washes over him. Ellie makes one of her little hums as she cocks her head to the side to consider him and he can't help but relax at the normalcy of the sound. It'll be okay, he's dealt with stranger and he can deal with this.

“I’ve, uh… I’ve told you that we’re half ghosts, though, right?”

“What?”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I know this isn't part of the prompts thing technically, but I was wondering about your opinion on this:

Ordonian Folktales: The Tale of the Stáblad & the Twisted Capaill

It's just a folktale I thought up to try & flesh out the culture of Ordon a bit is all.

I'd really like to see something on Twilight telling the story to the other Links, but again I understand if you don't. Perhaps with Twilight as the blorbo & horseshoes as the item if you're willing to stretch the prompt a bit?

If all I can get is your opinion/critique on it or even just a polite, "sorry, not doing it." Then, I'm more than okay with that.

So, yeah. If you're not feeling up for it, that's fine.

Twilight watched Warriors take an all too eager swig from his flask. He ignored it once, twice, thrice as he scraped some caked in mud out of his Epona's horseshoes. Then he noted, "You know, there's a tale in Ordon about a stable boy who liked to drink too much."

Warriors glanced at him in profile, eyes simultaneously teasing and curious. "Oh? Are you going to impart some country wisdom on me?"

Sky burst out laughing, his cheeks far too flushed. "But you two only got Courage from the Triforce!"

Twilight gingerly reached over and plucked the bottle out of Sky's hands. "That's definitely enough for you."

Time sipped his own flask slowly. "Go on, rancher."

Watching Warriors in particular, Twilight explained, "A stable boy used to steal moonshine from his boss. Never owned up to it, always enjoying getting drunk and having fun. One day he had to hide the stash from his boss, and he panicked, dunking it into the water trough. The boss' prized horse drank it and started to dance."

"Dancing horses is fun!" Wind piped in.

"Yeah, but she fell and broke her legs. They had to put her down to end her suffering." Twilight continued.

Wild's head shot up. "I don't like this story."

Warriors sighed. "Yes, yes, slovenly drunkenness is bad. We all can see the lesson here."

"The stable boy didn't own up to it, though," Twilight continued. "So the horse god punished him by turning him into a horse."

Sky hummed, eyes wide with wonder. "I want to turn into a loftwing."

Twilight laughed, reaching over and pulling the younger hero to him in a side hug. "You're a mess."

"Stuck as a horse forever, huh," Legend yawned, laying on his back and stargazing. "Kind of a nice amount of freedom to that."

"Oh, no, it doesn't end there," Twilight continued. "The next stable boy had the same vice and made the same mistake. When the first boy drank out of the trough, he danced and broke his legs as well. But he confessed his crimes before they could put him down, and for that he was transformed back."

Warriors finished off his drink, leaning against a rock. "Well. For starters. I wouldn't steal alcohol. I can just buy it."

Hyrule barked out a laugh. Twilight rolled his eyes.

[enhanced-operatives-division]

Junicrane/Starstruck Ramble

I will not be brief, all under the cut

To clear some things right off the bat:

No corpse, no proof with Juniper. Obligatory this is set in a canon where he's alive and adjacent to the agency in some way.

Reggie & Juniper are just gay to me, but I don't mind any interpretation of their sexuality

The games are set in 1967/68 to me (based on a couple bits in game) which is before it was legal to be gay in America at least (1971), which is relevant to how I interpret canon as being somewhat grounded in reality, despite unrealistic elements.

This is just an insane amount of headcanons/elements of and AU all culminated into one post. I will talk about some headcanons like they're just facts because they are established in my head, and it saves me over explaining literally everything, however I will explain some parts a little bit for clarity.

Alright. Actual beginning of the ramble:

Juniper is a character to me who had gotten so lost in his job as an actor and a social presence that in the end his whole life revolved around that 'role'. Because of this, by the time he's put into the situation where he's around the Agency, he basically knows nothing about himself, though he doesn't realise at first. Furthermore, what little identity he had has changed in so many ways. He's no longer a beloved famous actor in the prominence of public light, he's legally dead and he tarnished his career just before he was supposed to die, with the bonus of that making him lose the majority of his estate. From that, he also has horrific facial scarring from the electrical burns from literally having his face fried. I believe a friend of mine made a post about this a while ago (I also think they were the first to think it up also), but, to me, Juniper has a permanent trimmer in his right arm (aka his dominant hand) from the electrical current and it is messing with his nervous system.

All in all, he's not doing great, but he's too proud to admit that he's not doing great, because if anything, what's left of his ego is all he has as a defense since he's deep in unfamiliar water.

Before ending up around the agency (I have multiple interpretations of this, so I'm just going to bring it up generally), he'd never actually seen Reggie, and his only impression of him is a single voicemail, which was his only reference he had to later impersonate him. Juniper probably has very little feelings other than the ones he projects onto him because of Phoenix and that, at the very least, he's physically attracted to Reggie to some degree (that's like the beginning of how everything else would tumble into place in this sort of interpretation at least).

And on Crane's side? His feelings towards Juniper are probably very intense and muddled. On the one hand, he adores musical theatre, and that's his now ex-favourite actor. The thought of just casually being around him blows the bit of fanboy in him away at first because THAT'S the GUY, plus the inklings of a celebrity crush which still poke at him. And then there's the rational side of him, which knows Juniper has committed absolute atrocities on the side of Zoraxis, and hates him for that. Then there's how much Juniper comes off as an asshole at first because he refuses to cooperate with anything the Agency tried to put in place. He finds Juniper endlessly frustrating, and yet he's stuck working with him since, afterall, he's the one who knows the Agency's history with Juniper the best. I imagine him acting a lot like how he does IEYTD 1 around Juniper.

At this point, I'm just describing the pitch for a romcom.

I think the start of their relationship with one another largely started with Juniper trying to wind Crane up. It was a way of getting his attention, and I don't think Juniper knows why he's so dead set on that at first, because I don't think he realises he has a crush on 'this grump' at first. (I think that's actually the fun part about these two, because it's almost like a role reversal of the celebrity crush dynamic. This ex-big name actor has a TERRIBLE crush on an average joe and it is KILLING HIM.) But of course the Agency keeps them together because Juniper is at least conversing with Crane, so it's a start.

Through one way or another, they actually get talking casually, at least mildly at first. It takes Juniper a long time to fully deconstruct the wall he's built, and the thing is, Crane isn't the one trying to deconstruct it, at least at first, because yeah, Juniper realises if he wants Reggie to actually like him in any way, he can't keep winding him up. So they talk. Small talk at first, something rhythmic and almost easy to keep to a script. And over time that turns into actual conversations. Genuine ones in which Reggie rips out the occasional one of his jokes which Juniper is endlessly endeared about. The way he smiles just before he makes them, like he wants to chuckle at what he's about to say before he says it. That's probably when Juniper realised that he does have some vague crush on him, and that it wasn't going away.

This is what kickstarts John I can't-buy-you-things-to-impress-you-so-acts-of-service-it-is Juniper to do little things for him. It mostly starts off as him trying to make Reggie his tea how he likes it. However, the nerve damage in his arm makes that hard, as the weight of the kettle and trying to pour is hard all of a sudden. And he refuses to accept that, so he tries for a very long while. Long enough that Crane would go to investigate what was going on. And when he does see Juniper leaning over a cup with the kettle as he uneasily tries to pour it, and when Crane asks Juniper responds so matter-of-fact that his intention is nothing but genuine. And it catches Reggie off guard because Juniper hadn't done anything like that up to that point, and his very apparent vulnerability is so clearly on show.

It shifts something between them.

From that point on, conversations are longer, more familiar. Both of their attitudes soften, and Reggie makes more jokes. Juniper learns how to better use his left hand while strengthening his right back to a point where it could be used again. Slowly, they're both spending time with one another not because they have to, but just because they can. Little bits at first, not too far outside what they already were doing, but those little bits turned into long bits to a point where the other person's company was genuinely desirable.

As time passes, Juniper probably realises that he doesn't genuinely know much about himself or what hobbies he's into, because he never really had the time when he got big, and his home life in his youth wasn't bad, but it wasn't picturesque. I think Reggie would pick up on it, and absolutely try to introduce him to some things he's into. Some things stick, other things don't (corn husking very much stays Reggie's passion, and John will go with him sometimes because it's him, but it's not something he strongly cares for). Crane introduces him to a lot of music, and it's something that becomes a staple between them, with tracks they listen to more than others (tragically, I know relatively little about 60s music so I couldn't really say what). Occasionally they dance, never anything intense, think slow dancing, but the closeness is nice.

Through all of it, Juniper is battling the worst crush of his life, and he can't stand it, because I think he struggles to read people since he doesn't have anything like a script or a director to refer back to, so he has no idea if Reggie likes him back or if he's just desperate for that to be true. I think because of that any sort of confession between them would be incredibly raw, not only because of the time they live in making it hard for them to be truthful about how they love, but because it's a complete show of Juniper who's worked to be this better person. I don't exactly know how that would go, mainly because I don't have one set version of their dynamic, this post is just a generalisation of main consistent points.

Reggie does like him back, because he's gotten used to Juniper being just this guy, not a figure in the public eye, not a Zoraxis lackey, and not any sort of Agency operative (despite being under their care to some degree). He's someone he genuinely cares for, because they've given one another the time of day to learn one another, and I think because Reggie was a field agent, he was a lot better at reading Juniper than Juniper was at reading him. Eventually Juniper's company becomes something he could see around him for the rest of his life, and I think he accepts that he likes Juniper a lot more gracefully.

I think any affection directed at Juniper would at first be met with him feeling a little muddled. Reggie was a very physically affectionate person when he could be, and sure the initial flirting with one another came with the occasional little touches, but everything now was so deeply intentional. I also don't think Juniper would almost ever get over the novelty of being able to kiss him, or many other gestures, because it made the fact that they were together so very real, and it was great. I do think it comes easier to Reggie, and it's a big way of showing how much he cares, so it's important for Juniper to try and show it back because he knows how much it means to the other.

I like the idea of them eventually living with one another, too. I think Juniper would have always had a quiet little daydream of sorts where he does just live a domestic quiet life, and he can with Reggie (well, as close as they can get between the Agency and Zoraxis always being at odds), and he loves that, and he loves him, and it's immense.

I think they cook for one another a lot, it helps Juniper work on his dexterity in a controlled environment, which means a lot because it's a huge point of insecurity (that and his scars). He does improve, and Crane is proud of that and shows it and it's great. I also think they'd probably cook together too, because they can deal with being in the kitchen together and they work well with one another. It's probably a good way for them to unwind because over time they can do it in relative silence.

As I said before, I also think music is a staple in their household, and that Reggie listens to things on vinyl almost all of the time because he likes the background noise. Sometimes Juniper will catch him chuntering along to the music which he finds endlessly endearing. I wouldn't put it past his dramatic ass to also join in to fluster Reggie, but I also don't think Reggie would mind that terribly because Juniper has listened to the music enough to know the lyrics, and that's huge to him.

I don't think they are without rough patches, no relationship is, but I think the good part about them is that they're willing to talk about it (... eventually). They're used to long conversations, and while they're often less fun conversations, they're needed and they know that, and it works out.

Alright. I think I'm done for now. I haven't mentioned everything, but this definitely got the worst of it out of my system. If you ever want to hear any specific thoughts my ask box is open but other than that, behold my general dynamic for these two which has been festering in my head for years. I think they're great

[seraphsfire]

ive never seen a better definition of a Bother Figure

[karamazovanon]

Smerdyakov: 1,2,3 and 12 (for the character ask thingy)

(character ask game!)

AHHH SMERDYAKOV MY BELOVED THANK U 4 ENABLING ME TO RANT ABT HIM.

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

oh man WHERE TO FUCKING BEGIN. he!! he's such a smug little shitlord and it's one of my favorite dosto psychological archetypes, a character who feels so different from everyone else & so isolated that they end up feeling better than everyone (e.g. smarter, like smerd's bit about the creation myth) while also worse than everyone (e.g. smerd's deep insecurity about his social standing esp compared to his brothers, idolizing ivan). he's just the Are you tired of being nice? Don't you just want to go ape shitt? meme a little bit. also he's just a weird little control freak. i love my lil bouillon boy.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

FAVORITE is hard omg. i really love that he plays guitar and sings in falsetto........ he's just a little guy!!! and the line. the fucking line. "I exterminate my life by my own will and inclination, in order to blame no one." what a raw fucking line. and such a concise statement of pavel as a character, who spends the entire novel fighting to exercise his free will and establish his agency as a human being in the eyes of everyone around him through any means possible, and then he only finally gets the power he wants so badly by weaponizing the societal perceptions of him he hates so much (at first fyodor pavlovich only gives half a fuck about him when he starts having fits, then later on he gets away with murder by affirming their views of him as epileptic/weak, stupid, cowardly, "just a lackey", etc etc ive ranted abt this before). smerdyakov get behind me. he did nothing wrong

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

i mean. it's gotta be the killing small animals as a child right. like we can agree on that. that's not cool baby pavel. (to be fair though. it's also interesting symbolically as a reflection of his power struggle throughout his lifetime—even as a kid he was looking for creatures with even less power than he so he could feel like he was in control of something for once, which then turned to obsession over food, arguing with his father/master, murder, etc. Wish he didn't have to kill cats about it though !)

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

oooooo hmmmmm. this probably doesn't count as a headcanon but i do want him and katya to talk shit about ivan just once. i just KNOW they'd get his ass. also not to be predictable but i absolutely hc him as gay and not even in the im just making everyone gay bc i am way, in a 100% serious this-is-a-valid-interpretation-of-the-text way. i just think his utter lack of interest in women, alienation from society, insecurity about being Born Wrong, distaste for religion (esp. how illogical it is), etc is so very gaycoded. also that line about fyodor pavlovich offering to set him up with a girl to marry: "'Perhaps you ought to marry some girl, do you want me to find you one?' But this kind of talk would only make Smerdyakov turn pale with annoyance, and he would not reply." (tr. mcduff) like that was me on thanksgiving when my aunt asked if i had a boyfriend yet im sorry!!

[starflungwaddledee]

do you take commissions? Your art is amazing!

hello there! thank you so so much! i'm so glad you like my work! i have definitely taken commissions before (I've been a 'professional' freelancer for over a decade) but i'm not sure i'll take them here

turning my art into "✧˖°. product ˖°.✧" made me lose my passion for it for a very long time. the desperation to increase my reach (for financial survival) in the face of algorithms and so on had me practically pulling teeth just to pick up the tablet pen. i'm actually currently scrambling desperately up the steep steep slope of a 2-3 year chronic burnout/depression by my fingernails; not that you'd know it, with the number of comics i'm putting out 😂

but making art for kirby (and now sharing my work with the fandom) has completely changed my life, no joke. i wake up in tears some days just because i'm so excited to write and draw and make things. it's been so long. so i'm a little scared to lose that creativity and spark again after just getting it back!

that said, thank you so much! someone wanting to pay cold hard cash for your work is always an incredible feeling. i can't say that i'll never open commissions here, because i am currently missing it as an income stream, which is very scary. especially if it were for kirby-like OCs which I find so enjoyable to draw! we'll see. but thank you!! thank you 💖

[tennessoui]

Miss Kit, if you’re still taking prompts. How about “You love me, right?” for AU where Mafia boss Anakin corrupts Obi-Wan.

hi hi hi!!! so this was a bit weird to write because the au in question is really like 1-2 posts (i know there's an original but i can only find the follow up) which means it was a lot of building!!! which was cool but also that means this is actually 2.5k rip

anyway this is an au where basically young detective obi-wan is sent undercover to infiltrate mob boss anakin's criminal organization and he's successful but he falls in love with anakin in the classic 'got too deep and can't get out' thing. at least anakin loves him and loves corrupting him. (this is dark--duh--and age reversal, so obi-wan is 23 and anakin is 39.)

sorta a reverse pbatmb but not because i think there are really fascinating differences between the stories but it is a dark mob boss story with flipped mob bosses, so it's a LITTLE reverse pbatmb lol

anyway

(2.4k)

It isn’t surprising that Anakin is waiting for him, not really. He’d probably had him tailed to the police station and back again. He might even have told his man to kill Obi-Wan should he not exit the building within fifteen minutes.

After all, letting Obi-Wan run away once was about proving a point. Twice just looks bad.

So he’s not surprised that upon stepping into the lobby of Anakin’s restaurant, his elbow is caught by one of the men. “Vader wants ya,” Ahsoka tells him. She sounds grim.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Obi-Wan replies. Maybe it’s because he feels—free. Maybe it’s because he feels confused and like he’s swallowed a ball of lead that transformed itself into a hornet’s nest upon contact with his stomach. He shrugs Ahsoka’s hand off. “I know where to go.”

Ahsoka doesn’t say anything, but she does sneer. She didn’t like him much before she found out he was a rat. She especially didn’t like him after he ran that first time, no matter that at the time he’d thought he was running for his life. She probably didn’t think his life was worth the trouble he’d caused.

They’re both lucky Vader thinks differently.

“Watch your step,” she tells him like it’s a threat, at the base of the grand staircase that leads to the second floor. Ostensibly, there’s more dining up there for anyone in want of a table at a hot, fancy, popular restaurant with countless awards. Realistically, Obi-Wan knows that the second floor of the restaurant is where Anakin conducts his business.

His other business.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replies, pausing on the third step to look down. It’s the events of the past twenty-four hours that make his tongue loosen in a way that only Anakin has ever rewarded him for. “He says you’re jealous.”

Ahsoka’s eyes flash in the low light as she takes a step closer. She’d been about to retake her spot at the front, the guard dog of Vader’s mob. “What.”

Obi-Wan steps down until he’s only one step higher than her. It makes them almost the same height. “He says you’re jealous,” he repeats. “Ani does.”

Obi-Wan never calls Anakin Ani, not unless he’s been told to by the man in scenarios where it helps both of them with their covers: Anakin as someone to underestimate. Obi-Wan as someone to write off. It works now too for a vastly different reason. The only one allowed to call Anakin by his first name is Obi-Wan himself. Not even Ahsoka, his apprentice, can.

“I’m not,” Ahsoka snaps. She grips the bannister so hard that her knuckles turn white.

“Really?” Obi-Wan asks. “Because, well. I was an undercover cop, he caught me, he still kept me, and then I slashed his face, I ran away, and when I came back he still welcomed me with open arms. But you—he broke your finger for bungling the shipment I told Windu about. I’d be jealous too, in your place.”

Ahsoka tries to take a second step up, be on level with Obi-Wan, but he stops her with a hand raised and placed on her neck. “Now, now,” he says. “Vader wants to see me.”

Anakin’s apprentice snarls but lets him go. She always has to let him go because Anakin loves him. Anakin wants him.

“One day, someone’s going to show you your place, Ben,” Ahsoka takes a step back, a strategic retreat.

“I know my place, ma’am,” Obi-Wan says in Ben’s accent, soft and unassuming, framed and workshopped off of Vader’s own speech patterns because the linguist the police hired had thought it would breed familiarity. “Similar to yours, it’s beneath Anakin. Mine just comes with more perks.”

He loves me for one, he doesn’t say. He doesn’t particularly want to shove a crowbar into Anakin’s relationship with his apprentice. Not because he doesn’t think Anakin would forgive him for it, but because it sounds more complicated than it’s worth. Ahsoka will adjust. Anakin will make sure of it.

He doesn’t love you, an unwelcome voice murmurs in the back of his head. The memory is fresh. Mace Windu, senior detective, had said that not even an hour ago, clutching Obi-Wan’s resignation letter tightly in both hands. Parting words that had landed like a grenade in his mind, even as he tried to shake it off.

Has anyone ever? He’d shot back, eyes drawn without his express permission to stare heavily at the sheriff’s closed door. Qui-Gon had refused to see him. His own father—he makes one choice he doesn’t approve of, slips and stumbles in a situation his father sent him into, and suddenly Qui-Gon Jinn never adopted a boy.

He’d left the station soon after, but not before Detective Windu hda fired a parting shot: I’d hate to see you spend the rest of your life catering to your daddy issues.

Obi-Wan hadn’t even really thought about the words, what they meant, not until he’s walking through the open doors of the second floor to see Anakin lounging in a firm chair at the head of a table. The table is laid heavy with food: fruit, cold meats, cheeses, pasta, salads, oysters.

All of it untouched. Some of it Obi-Wan had admitted to never trying, some of it he’d told him were his favorittes.

Anakin smiles when he sees him, dropping the knife he’d been spinning around in his fingers to hold out a hand as he shifts his body, readjusts to rest his chin on his fist. “Welcome home, baby. Happy retirement.”

Obi-Wan gets halfway from the entrance of the room to Anakin before he stops. He doesn’t mean to. He’d been ready and willing and eager to climb into the older man’s lap, kiss him dirty, lick down the pink scar over his eye that Obi-Wan had given him. But—he can’t shake Mace Windu’s words. Men like Skywalker can’t love. You’ve found yourself in the eye of a hurricane, but storms move quick. 

It had been his mentor’s last piece of advice for him, before his feelings and disappointment had turned his words into insults and petty blows.

Men like Skywalker can’t love.

“Baby?” Anakin sits up straight, head cocked slightly as he studies him. “Did they give you trouble? Quitting a job isn’t illegal. You gave them two weeks and everything. Well, I did. But you were there. You were quite…enthusiastic.”

Obi-Wan swallows and can feel a blush burn down his face and across his cheeks. He remembers the terms of which Anakin had called into the police department, asked to speak to Obi-Wan’s supervisor, and smugly told them that as Obi-Wan’s new employer, he was phoning to let them know that Obi-Wan was giving a two-weeks notice, but that they had talked about it, and Anakin would allow him to finish up on any current assignment he was working on.

The assignment Obi-Wan had been working on was, of course, infiltrating Anakin’s criminal organization while undercover as a lackey from out of town named Ben.

Obi-Wan had, at the time of the call, been on his knees beneath Anakin’s desk.

“Come here, Benny,” Anakin purrs. Obi-Wan has never liked that nickname, not since the very first time the mobster had called him it, and he thinks he probably knows.

He’d studied Anakin, right, before he’d gone under. He knows that Anakin still sometimes calls him Ben on purpose because Obi-Wan can never stop the flash of guilt he feels at having started a relationship with Anakin before the older man knew who he really was. He knows Anakin uses it against him. He knows Aanakin probably can’t even help it. 

It still stings. Many things do, in their relationship. But Anakin kisses the hurts better every time. He’s the only person who has ever said he loved Obi-Wan and then—then actually tried to make good on the promise.

Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry, but he has to ask. “You—you love me, right?”

Anakin blinks at him and lounges back in his seat to look at him consideringly. His hand drops down onto his thigh. Like this, the man looks more Vader than Anakin, and it makes Obi-Wan shiver. No one in the precinct actually, really thought Anakin Skywalker had dual personalities, and perhaps Obi-Wan should know better than everyone else. But he doesn’t.

Sometimes Anakin looks at him and all he can see is Vader in his eyes, the way his hands are rougher on Obi-Wan’s form, the short staccato sentences and the resting frown that even Obi-Wan cannot kiss away. Vader is…territorial. There has never been a single meeting that Obi-Wan has attended where Anakin looks like Vader that he has not attended in the man’s lap. It’s not as if Anakin is lightyears better or anything, still as possessive, jealous, but sweeter too.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what these differences mean. He isn’t sure Anakin would elaborate if asked. 

And a part of Obi-Wan—a part of Obi-Wan simply does not care. Not if both—one—either—whatever—not if Anakin, whoever Anakin is at any given moment, wants him. Loves him.

“Do I love you?” Anakin repeats. It’s an embarrassing question, all things considered. It reeks of every insecurity Obi-Wan has ever harbored in his soul. And even though most of them have been teased out by the man in front of him, dissected and examined, the words still bruise to hear spoken so lowly in the air. “Come here, Obi-Wan.”

This time, Obi-Wan goes, closing the distance between them quickly. Before he can scramble into his lover’s arms, the man stands up so that their fronts brush against each other.

It feels far too close and not close enough, and Anakin must agree because his arm brushes against the backs of his thighs and pushes up in the universal sign to jump. Obi-Wan does, wrapping his arms around his neck for further balance.

Anakin catches him with ease. Obi-Wan’s only twenty-three, not yet grown into his shoulders, so he’s fairly light to carry, but it helps that Anakin is almost forty, all broad shoulders and height and muscle put on from a life of fighting.

“Why else would I have taken such an interest in you, sweet baby Ben?” Anakin croons as he lays him down on a couch meant for reclining with after-dinner drinks. Mostly the couch is where Anakin fucks him if he doesn’t want to wait to get back to his apartments. “Take you in, off the streets, a stripper who punched my best friend in the face because he was flirting with a girl?”

“She was half his age,” Obi-Wan mutters, turning his face up and away. He’s never going to apologize for it, even if it hadn’t been how he was supposed to make contact with Anakin’s mob in the first place.

Anakin hums and catches his jaw. “Hm. Point is, baby, why else would I have let you get so close to me, wearing all my pretty things, ignoring all the alarms in my head saying you knew me too well, too fast, if I didn’t love you?” His hand tightens and Obi-Wan gasps out.

He’d read the files on Anakin. He’d read every Business Insider article. He’d read everything he could get his hands on. Of course he’d known so many things about the man. That had been his only job. Get close to Anakin Skywalker.

Task succeeded.

Anakin Skywalker’s lips trail from his cheekbone down and then up again, to the edge of his temple. Obi-Wan knows what he’s going to say before he says it. “Why else would I let you into my bed, if I didn’t love you? Why would you be the only person allowed to see the twins whenever you want if I didn’t love you? Why else would I be so terribly upset to find you in this very room, in this very position with one of my men, if I didn’t love you?”

Obi-Wan tries to move, to thrash and shiver and run his hands over Anakin in return but somewhere between laying him down and now, the man has caught his wrists in one of his big hands while the other runs up and down Obi-Wan’s torso.

The man—Maul—had followed Obi-Wan one night to a meeting with Detective Secura. He’d overheard everything, had known Ben to be a rat, but he hadn’t confronted him about it for two days. He’d waited until he could get him alone, in this room. Obi-Wan had been sitting at the table, sipping water, knowing he couldn’t eat until Anakin returned from his drop-off.

Maul had threatened him. Threatened to tell the mob, threatened to tell Anakin. Obi-Wan had been confronted with the thought of losing Anakin or losing his cover and he hadn’t reacted well. He’d known exactly how long it would take Anakin to get back, so he’d stalled until the last minute before offering himself to Maul in exchange for his silence.

He’d seen the looks. He’d known he wouldn’t be turned down.

He’d also known Anakin would kill Maul if he found him on top of him. Which he had. To both.

“Why would I forgive you after, if I didn’t love you, sweet thing?” Anakin murmurs, mouth still pressed to his temple. “Why would I forgive you for trying to fuck another man into silence, for lying to me about your name, for hurting me and leaving me, if I didn’t love you?”

Obi-Wan whimpers. Anakin’s hand has migrated to his throat and he’s putting so much pressure on it. He’s hurting him. He’ll probably never hurt him as much as Obi-Wan hurt him. Maul had managed to accuse Obi-Wan as being a rat before he’d died. Anakin, fearsome and covered in blood, had turned to him with one golden eyebrow raised.

Obi-Wan had tried to flee. For some reason, that had been the moment Anakin had become enraged. He’d tackled Obi-Wan to the floor. They’d fought, Obi-Wan has a scar on his palm still, long and deep. He’d grabbed the knife Anakin had slit Maul’s throat with with his open palm flipped it to his other hand, and cut out at Anakin’s face. The move had gotten him off him, just long enough for him to run.

“If I didn’t love you, baby, why would I have gone to find you? Why would I have made it so very clear that your place was by my side? Why would I have given you the choice to come back or stay away forever? Do you think I often give rats those sorts of choices?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head. It hadn’t taken him long. Anakin, that is. He’d found him hiding in his apartment—Obi-Wan’s, not Ben’s. Obi-Wan had come home from a shift to see Anakin lounging on his sofa, reading through one of his favorite books, skin around his right eye carefully bandaged.

It hadn’t taken Obi-Wan long either, to decide. Anakin hadn’t even gotten out of the building before Obi-Wan had made his choice. He hadn’t—he hadn’t wanted to leave Anakin. The man had said he loved him. He hadn’t—he hadn’t wanted to be without his love again, he’d do whatever necessary.

“I’m not a rat,” Obi-Wan gasps, and the hand around his neck loosens as Anakin takes his hand away to look down at him in interest. 

“Oh?” he asks. “What are you then?”

“Your baby,” he breathes, eyes falling to half-lids as he adjusts their bodies so that they’re as close together as possible.

“Mm,” Anakin agrees, leaning down to bite gently at the skin of Obi-Wan’s bottom lip before letting go. “Guess I’m just wondering then. I think the real question should be…does my baby love me?”

Obi-Wan lets his eyes fall completely shut as he tilts his head up in silent demand for a proper kiss.

After all, Anakin has a point. The answer should be obvious.

[sonknuxadow]

What if Werehog Sonic got infected with the metal virus and Metal Sonic got hit with Dark Gaia energy? 2 metal werehogs but of a different kind.

hmmmm i think that the effects dark gaia would have on metal sonic would be very different than the effects it had on sonic i feel like it would be more like possession than a physical transformation. because theyre a robot . and if they were to get a proper werehog form it would be something that eggman designed for them or something

[jrueships]

I WANT WRITING PROOOOMPTSSSSSS

[smilesrobotlover]

breeze?

Windy angrily watched as Wild descended from the cliff side on his paraglider. He brought out his wind waker and changed the direction of the wind. The small breeze turned into a fierce gale, blowing Wild into the trees. It was a petty and immature thing to do, but boy was it satisfying.

[quietwingsinthesky]

18 + Castiel/Crowley for the hug prompts

tight and desperate hug huh. there are so many crowstiel eras i could have set this in that made perfect sense. that would be great to write in.

anyway here's endverse.

|| AO3 || DW || FFNet || PF || SW || WC: 500

"High again, are we? It's becoming a pattern." Castiel is on the floor. He can't remember exactly when he got there, but he knows how. He'll always know how. There's nowhere else to end up when your wings get cut. He blinks his eyes open blearily. There's a familiar face staring down at him, and his expression doesn't hold pity or disgust. Only the terrible aching empathy of being the last left.

"Come to ask us to hide you?" Castiel asks, as though he has the power to make that decision. Dean would shoot Crowley where he stands. Crowley's mouth twists into something that could have been a smile, once. It's all ash, now.

"Do I need a reason to visit my favorite angel?" Castiel should probably get off the floor. He's naked, and he's cold, and he was human long enough to love and lose hot showers. Then again, whenever Crowley usually shows up while Castiel is nude, they end up fucking. He stays longer when they have sex. He doesn't taunt Castiel for the way he clings.

"Compared against who? Lucifer?" Crowley stiffens at the name. Castiel doesn't. So goes their mutual senses of self-preservation. "You shouldn't call me that, anyway."

"You are what you are," Crowley argues.

"Until I'm not," Castiel says back, "and I'm not."

He waits for Crowley to snipe at him again. It never comes. Something splintered and horrible as rotting driftwood lodges in Castiel's gut. "Why are you here, Crowley?"

“Like I said, isn’t it enough to want to see you?” Castiel stands up to get a better look at him. He's more well kempt than anyone else in the Apocalypse. All that lingering hellfire in his body has to be good for something other than running away, and Crowley uses it to iron his suits. "You are the one who leaves the devil's trap open." In the very first end days, that invitation had been open to any demon who dared. Now, Crowley's the only one who it would keep out.

Castiel is still alive for the sake of loyalty. Crowley is still alive for- He might call it cleverness. Castiel would call him a coward and mean it as a compliment. Most of the people who made it past the end of the world were cowards. The brave ones all got themselves killed.

He’d never want Crowley to be brave or loyal.

"Don't go." It's a useless thing to ask of him, and so Castiel says it with very little hope. Crowley was never an angel. He's hardly even been a friend. He has been a constant, and even, at times, someone who makes the dying world a little brighter. Now, in his eyes, Castiel sees the same fear he's seen in bitten men before they're shot to spare them the virus.

Crowley says nothing but wraps him in a hug so hard it bruises Castiel's ribs. Castiel holds tight, until he can't, and he doesn't.

He never sees Crowley again.

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)

[girlwithfish]

also i think i saw this teacher i had in high school my senior year for social studies and he was conservative and i didnt like him and i wasnt sure bc its been so long but then i heard someone mention his name and i was like coincidence so i did some searching and he does work at this middle school now and theres some tweets n stuff abt him making bigoted comments at my old hs and also inappropriate comments to girls like oh ok

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

Did I ever tell you how much I like Evyn and Yoricks relationship?

Maybe you did? I am more than happy to hear about it more than once though, lmao.

Tbh, I really like them a lot too. Sweet Evyn just fell into being a younger brother so easily & Yorick is just "guess he's mine now 🤷🏼‍♂️" & it's just really sweet & I like what I've created there. They are such good boys.

[roobylavender]

i think one of the things i want to do over break for funsies is like. rewatch every pak drama of the major contemporary writers nationally hailed as progressive (e.g., umera ahmed, farhat ishtiaq, sameera fazal, etc.) and see how many of the male leads i come out actually still liking. like i want to make an excel spreadsheet cataloguing every red flag that went under my radar as a kid. for science