#and how in the end she knew he was just putting her on a pedestal

[paintingformike]

i feel like i’ve thought of this before but just didn’t dwell on it too much...but the fact that in the cabin scene when will questioned mike about the way el was acting towards him and mike immediately brought up how they were talking about el’s loss should’ve been enough of a hint that the current state of their relationship (el ignoring mike) has something to do with el losing...

[cowboy-like-moony]

I just want to know if taylor would still be fine with dating that man if he had called ice spice a b*tch because we all know how she feels about men calling her that, but I honestly think the way he talked about ice spice was just as bad (and a lot of the things he said in general are wayyy worse) so would she care if her boyfriend called some other woman a b*tch? I'm just curious

[rainydayathogwarts]

The rabbit hole - Remus Lupin

remus lupin has a way with all the ladies, even the popular girls wc: 1.3k

Despite not being the most sought after marauder, Remus Lupin got more than enough attention from the ladies. Everyone knew it, especially you, who lived around girls always gushing about their newest crush. You have to admit, his name did come up a few times. But did it even matter? The term 'popular' wasn't one you’d use to describe yourself because you didn’t believe in putting people up on pedestals, including yourself. However, you couldn’t help it if those words were thrown at you by other people. You weren’t mad at it; getting attention from boys and being admired by younger girls was fulfilling and validating, and meant you never had trouble finding dates when you got bored. 

Unfortunately, it seemed you had fallen into the same rabbit hole many other girls surrounding you fell into - the rabbit hole called 'wanting the one man who wasn't interested'. You don’t know when this fascination over him started, but you assumed it had to do with the fact that he didn’t pay any attention to you. It was refreshing, but frustrating. Guys always gave you what you wanted, or made the first move. Remus, on the other hand, had only ever spoken to you in class when you’d be paired up, and he’d never made a pass at you, unlike the two friends at his right and left side who had both previously flirted with you at parties in an attempt to getting on your roster. You had laughed and thrown a snarky comment at them before amusedly walking away. But Remus Lupin and his stupid chestnut hair had caught your eye, and when you wanted something, you didn’t stop until you got it.

Remus had noticed this new attention from you in potions class - a simple doe eyed look from you when you’d asked him to get pearl dust for your potion had him doing a double take, making sure he hadn’t imagined your signature move. He’d heard boys talking, and he had to admit, even he was intrigued by you. “Mate she just gave me those eyes...” was a popular start to a sentence when he heard boys exchange stories, but now that he’d laid his eyes on them himself, he knew he was in for it.

On the way back to his dorm, he wondered if that was you making a first move, or just a subtle ask for him to make a move. He decided that he'd wait and see, make sure he hadn't been mistaken and make a fool of himself by throwing himself into something nonexistent. The more he waited, the harder it was to hold himself back. Of course, Remus prided himself on being respectful to all women and being quiet, which is what drew many of the ladies in. This meant that he tried incredibly hard to hold back the flirtatious comments and sly responses during lessons. You knew the game he was playing, because you often took the route of playing hard to get.

"You're being delusional" Sirius finally told him, James nodding from his spot beside him on Peter's bed. "Like, good for you man if there is anything there, but there isn't." James said teasingly. "No- I swear! She's flirting with me! She's flirting and I'm enjoying it! She's flirting and now I like her, and now I'm like every other guy at Hogwarts." Sirius and James exchanged a look. "Well you're not like every other guy if you actually end up with her. How many guys have you heard of who actually became her boyfriend?" He thought long and hard, and when he looked back at the other two, knew they shared the same number. "None."

The map showed that you were alone by the black lake. If he wanted to catch you in time, he'd have to hurry along. He stole a book off his bed before rushing off, haphazardly throwing his jumper somewhere into the dorm. He slowed down his pace once he made it past the main entrance, catching his breath as he began walking in your general directly. Remus didn't want to seem to obvious, so he marked the page he had left his book from with his index finger dipping between the pages. His breath hitched when he got closer to you, realising you were just in shorts and a bikini top, enjoying the spring sun, a boombox next to you playing some music.

"Any chance I could sit in the shade under that tree without looking like a total creep?" He asks, gesturing to the tree merely a couple of meters from you. Your eyes flutter open, a hand coming to your face to protect your eyes from the sun. "Mhmm, I don't think there is. But that's okay, I'm used to being admired." Remus scoffs, sitting down with his back against the tree, and opens up his book. From the corner of his eyes, he sees your body turning in his general direction, as though surprised that he's not giving you any attention. If that was the case, his mission was already succeeding. He feels the hesitation from you, glancing up at you to see you open and close your mouth, speechless. You turn onto your back once more, closing your eyes with a sigh.

You both sit there in comfortable silence, but Remus hasn't turned a single page of his book and despite you having your eyes closed, the only thing you can think of is how close he is to you. Suddenly, you sit up, turning to take a long sip of the water bottle next to you. Remus has to pretend he wasn't looking at you, but when you address him by his first name, his head immediately snaps up to meet your gaze. "Yes?" "Want to go in for a swim?" Well he wasn't expecting that. You grin when he begins to stutter; you'd finally caught him off guard for the first time since you'd started flirting with him three weeks ago. "Well, I'm- I'm not in my swimmers." You cock your head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him. "Is that a problem?"

Yes, Remus wants to say. Yes, because I have scars and I'm insecure, and I don't want you to see me like that. But he doesn't say any of those things. Instead, he stands, and you follow his movements promptly. You wait for him to take at least his shirt off, but he only loosens his tie, pulling it over his head before stalking towards you predatorily. You try to take a step away from him when the proximity becomes too intimidating for you, but one of his hands snakes around your waist and your breath is hitching and he's leaning his head down close to your ear and you only hear "Hold your breath" before you're being whisked into his arms and your feet are leaving the ground.

You're suddenly gasping for air, breaking through the surface of the water, but you immediately spot Remus's grinning face, shaking his hair away from his eyes and you can't be mad. Like physically, it is impossible for you, even if your denim shorts are now all wet and you almost died. But you're swimming towards him and holding onto him with your legs wrapping around his waist and somehow you're leaning into him and pressing your lips against his. The position is weird: Remus can probably reach the ground, his hands supporting your denim-clad hips whilst your hands grip onto his wet uniform, but in some odd way, it's perfect.

The second you pull away, Remus's eyes are widening and he's muttering "Oh, no." Confused, you turn to see what he's looking at, only to spot a quickly approaching figure called the insolent Filch, already yelling about "Jumping in with Uniform!" and "Get them Mrs. Norris!"

[whytheylosttheirminds]

I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 3)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Ch. 1) // (Ch. 2)

“I like the lilac, but I just wonder if the lavender would’ve gone better with your complexion,” your mom said as she eyed you critically. You were standing on a pedestal in the middle of Sally’s Dress Shop, trying on the bridesmaids dress your mom had picked out for you to wear to her wedding. The dress was far too frilly and pastel for your taste, but if wearing it would please your mom and make this week move faster, it was worth it.

“I think this is fine, mom,” you were trying your hardest to keep your tone polite, determined to keep this outing from turning into a fight. After all, it was your mom’s wedding week, and despite all of the history between you, you really did want her to be happy. 

By the time you had returned to the table last night, your mom had already paid the bill. The three of you drove home in silence, your mom giving you her patented silent treatment. This morning when you came downstairs dressed and ready for your fitting, she simply started talking about the flower arrangements for the reception, like the night before had never happened.

“I think you chose well,” you said before your mom could change her mind on the dress again. You’re lying through your teeth, you think this dress might be one of the worst choices she's ever made, but the satisfied smile on her face makes your discomfort worth it. 

“Do a spin for me,” she asks for the tenth time today. When you roll your eyes she pouts and says, “please?”

You smile and twirl for her again, giggling when you nearly lose your footing and fall off the pedestal, grabbing your mom’s shoulder for support. Your mom laughed too, and you realized you couldn’t remember the last time the two of you laughed together. It was nice.

Rafe has been avoiding going downtown as much as possible these days, keeping his outings to the Island Club and having his friends come to him if they want to party. Even though his dad had officially taken the fall for everything, he knew people still whispered about him as he walked by. I heard he was there. I heard he did it. They say his fingerprints were on the bullets.

Today, however, he had a meeting with a potential buyer of some of the melted gold, a jeweler on main street. He slid on his sunglasses and locked his car, trying desperately to act like today was just business as usual, like he hadn’t just put a hit on his own father.

He walked quickly from his truck toward the jeweler’s store front, but stopped in his tracks as he passed Sally’s. There you were, behind the glass, spinning in a puffy purple dress, before nearly falling on your ass. He cursed himself for the way he flinched, as if he could reach out and catch you through the window. Why was it still his instinct to catch you? 

Two Years Earlier…

“Rafe!” You squealed as he pulled you through the side door of the ballroom into the dimly lit alley. “They were playing my song!”

“That’s why I had to get you outta there,” he leans over you, backing you slowly up against the wall. “You looked way too fucking good dancing to that song.”

Rafe started rifling through the layers of your prom dress impatiently, trying to get his hands on you.

“What are you doing?” You playfully swatted his arm, thinking he must be teasing you.

“I need you,” he growled.

“Right here? In the middle of this gross alley?” You started to think he might not be kidding.

He finally gets his hands under the heavy fabric of your gown and begins kneading the flesh of your ass, making you gasp. His open mouth found yours, and you can immediately taste the alcohol on his tongue. You pull back from him and reach up to grab both sides of his face, hoping your touch would ground him a bit. He looked at you frenzied, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

“Baby, are you drunk already?” You said as gently as possible.

“Just on you, baby,” he slurred, attempting to dive back in for a kiss. 

“Wait,” you turned your head, causing his mouth to miss yours and land sloppily on your ear.

“What the hell?” He backed away from you in frustration. His chest was rising and falling quickly, nostrils flaring, and you wondered if he was also high. He’d only done coke once before, as far as you knew, but you remembered how panicked he was after, his heart pounding violently as you tried to calm him down. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “We just need to slow down a bit.”

You approached him with your hand outstretched, like he was a stray dog you were trying not to scare off. He didn’t look at you, but allowed you to slip your fingers into his, squeezing gently.

“I just wanna dance with you,” you whispered softly. Je just glared back at you, so you pouted your lips, knowing he found it irresistibly cute when you did that. He couldn’t hide the crooked smirk growing on his lips, and his breath steadied.

“We can party hard later,” you promised. “But I wanna remember this part, with you.”

He looked down at your hand in his and ran his thumb over the promise ring he had given you just a few weeks ago. You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed it softly.

As you swayed softly to the next slow song, he bent down and laid a kiss on your bare shoulder. For a moment, you thought you were successful in bringing him back down to Earth. You were full of pride, truly believing that you, and only you, would always be able to fix him when he was broken. 

Now…

Rafe stood frozen at the dress shop window, just watching you. When you tucked your hair behind your ears, it was like he could still smell your pretty coconut shampoo. When you smoothed down your dress, it was like he could still feel your soft hands on his bare skin. When you said something to your mom, it was like he could still hear your voice whispering in his ear I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.

But you hadn’t meant it, had you? You couldn’t have, or you would’ve stayed. And if you had stayed, maybe he wouldn’t be where he was now. Maybe he would’ve married you, taken you away from this island like the two of you used to dream about. Maybe he wouldn’t be a thief, a liar, a killer. 

It was too late now, too late to undo it. Too late to get back to who he was before you left. But there was something about the sight of you, the presence of you, even through the tinted window glass, that made him want to try.

Decisively, he turned back toward his car, feverishly dialing Barry’s number. Praying to whatever God was good enough to create the girl in the window that it wasn’t too late.

Looking back at yourself in the mirror, you stopped short when you saw the reflection of a figure in the window. By the time you turned around, it was gone, and you were the one left wondering if you were imagining things.

Two Years Ago…

“Ma’am can you tell us what happened here tonight?” The cop questioned you.

Rafe looked up at you with pleading eyes. White button up stained with blood, eyes glassy and red. His suit jacket, the one you had picked out together to match your dress, had been ripped to shreds.

“I don’t know,” you said to the cop, not removing your disappointed eyes from Rafe, his bloodied face illuminated in the blue-red light of the sirens. 

“We’re going to need you to give a statement, ma’am,” the officer clarified, “for the record.”

“For the record…” you shook your head at the boy on the curb, arms held behind him in handcuffs. Arms that used to hold you every night, arms you didn’t know if you could trust anymore, “...I don’t know him.”

With that, you walked away, the shattered glass from your car window crunching under your heels with each step. Rafe had no choice but to sit there and watch you go, aching with something completely unrelated to the accident.

“Y/N!” He yelled after you, unable to suppress the pain in his voice.

You just kept walking.

Now…

You woke up with a start, clutching your bedsheets. Sighing, you tapped your phone screen and it lit up in the darkness. 5:53am. 

You weren’t surprised, you hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep in two years. You knew how this would go, once your brain was awake there would be no turning it back off. You sighed and threw the covers off, your old childhood bed creaking loudly as you stood up. You winced at the noise, your mother was a light sleeper, a lesson you’d learned the hard way too many times. 

You pulled on an old pair of leggings and a hoodie, and slowly crept down the stairs. Once out the door, you found your old bike in the shed in the backyard and rode off into the soft morning light. No clear destination in mind, you rode around the neighborhood, down to the beach. You watched the waves crash as you passed them. It had been two years since you’d seen the ocean, and you had nearly succeeded in convincing yourself you were okay with that. But now, the sun rising over the sea, salty air consuming your senses, all the hard work you did to delude yourself unraveled.  

Without really meaning to, you ended up at the cemetery. You parked your bike and let your memory lead you right to your dad’s plot.

His grave clearly hadn’t seen visitors in a while. You made a weak effort to brush the dirt off of his headstone, before smiling and choosing to leave it as is. “God made dirt, dirt don’t hurt” your dad would’ve said. 

For a while you just sat there, fingers combing through the grass as you listened to the birds chirp loudly in the trees above.

“That ever get annoying?” You asked your dad in jest. You smile to yourself, knowing your dad wouldn’t have minded. He was too easy going, the calm current that kept you and your mom afloat. Suddenly hit with a pang of longing to see your father again, you wished that you had something to leave here for him. You noticed a grave a few plots over, completely covered in fresh blooming flowers. 

“Somebody was popular,” you say to your dad’s headstone. “I’m sure they won’t miss one flower right?”

You stand and approach the grave, wondering who it was that inspired such an outpouring of love. 

“Sheriff Susan Peterkin” 1977-2020

You frowned. She must’ve died recently, then. Strange that your mom hadn’t said anything, surely Chip had known her, being on the force. You remembered Peterkin, she came to your school every year when you were growing up. Back then, she was just a beat cop who pulled the short straw and had to give the anti-bullying presentation, but you remember her being very nice.

You plucked a tulip from one of her many bouquets and felt like you should say something.

“Um, hi. I don’t know if you knew my dad, but I think you would’ve liked him. I’m sorry for whatever happened, but thanks for always being so cool.”

As you walked away from her grave, you noticed another newly dug plot a few yards away. The plot was small, if something was buried here, it wasn’t a body. Still, there was a small plaque over the fresh dirt. You approached, having to get pretty close before you could make out the name…

“Ward Cameron.”

Your knees buckled beneath you, the tulip you were holding slipping from your grasp. This grave couldn’t have been here for more than what, a few weeks? The grass had barely begun to grow. Maybe your mom could have just forgotten to tell you about Sheriff Peterkin, but surely the very recent death of Ward Cameron hadn’t just slipped her mind. Clearly, something bigger was going on. 

And Rafe…Rafe.

You regained your footing and started running, past Sheriff Peterkin’s grave, past your father’s, blowing him a quick kiss.

You found your bike and started pedaling as fast as you could. Not even pausing to think through what you’d say when you got there, just knowing you needed to see him, to be with him. Suddenly, it made more sense. He was grieving. Their relationship was complicated, but even when he was pissed at him, Rafe still worshiped his father.

You pulled up to Tannyhill, but the gate was closed. You tried some of the gate codes you remembered the Camerons used to rotate through, but none of them worked. After your fifth attempt, the system locked you out. You rang the bell, not sure if he would even let you in when he realized it was you, but you had to try. No answer, he must not have been home.

You sat by the wall for a few hours, waiting for him to get home. Eventually, your stomach ached with hunger, and you really had to pee. You decided to go home, collect yourself, and come back later. 

By the time you arrived home on your bike, it was almost noon. Chip was just walking in the front door, home from work. He had been pulling double overnight shifts to pay for the wedding and he looked exhausted. Luckily for both of you, the wedding was just a few days away now, and all of this would be behind you soon.

When you walked in the living room, he was mid-conversation with your mother, who quickly shushed him at the sight of you. He looked at her in confusion, clearly not reading the silent message she was trying to send with her eyes.

“What’s going on?” You asked, feeling just as lost as Chip.

“Just telling your mom how we brought in that Cameron boy again last night-” your mother cut him off with a harsh, “Chip!” and he threw his hands up in surrender.

You and your mother looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing, and at the same time, everything. 

“Don’t,” she pleaded quietly.

You turned fast and ran toward the door, grabbing her car keys and your purse off the dining room table as you passed.

“Y/N, do not do this,” your mom was up from the couch, running after you as you headed for the front door. “Tonight is my bachelorette party and tomorrow we have the rehearsal!”

“I’ll be back in time, I just have to-”

“No you don’t! You don’t have to!” She yelled, trying to grab the handle of the door before you could get to it, but you beat her to it and threw open the door.

“I’m sorry,” you called behind you as you ran to her car in the driveway. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t bother,” she yelled from the front steps. 

You stopped in your tracks, hands pausing on the handle of her car door as you whipped your head towards her in surprise.

“If you leave right now,” she said, eerily composed, “If you go to him, I don’t want you at my wedding. If you do this, y/n…I don’t ever want to see you again”

Your mother had said many harsh words to you in moments of frustration that she tried to take back later, but the way she was talking to you now, her tone so even and her words so carefully selected, you wondered if she’d practiced this speech. Then it dawned on you, she knew you would do this. She knew if you found out about Ward, that you’d run to Rafe’s side. And she was fully prepared to cut you out.

You opened the car door and got in, not looking back at your mom as you peeled out of the driveway.

Twelve Years Earlier…

“No, Rafe,” you scolded, hands on your hips. “You’re the cop, and I’m the robber!”

“Well too bad. I wanna be a robber, too,” he said, taking off the plastic sherriff's badge you had given him and throwing it in the playground dirt. 

“We can’t both be robbers, that doesn’t make any sense,” you told him. 

The rules of make-believe were very clear, and you’d always been a rule follower. That is, until you started spending your recesses playing with Rafe Cameron. He was always in trouble.

“Sure we can, we’ll be like Bonnie and Clyde!” He encouraged, handing you his plastic toy gun.

“Bonnie and Clyde,” you agreed with a smile, taking the gun.

Suddenly, you didn’t care so much about breaking the rules. Not if it meant you got to keep playing with him.

(chapter 4)

a/n: y'all are blowing me away with all your kindness about this story!! I hope you keep loving it!!! Lots more to come (including some smut if you're patient🤫) 🫶

If you asked to be on the taglist and I forgot you, I'm sorry and please let me know!!

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts @nymphetkoo @xoxohoneymoongirl @hangmanscoming @azrielsgirll @maibelitaaura @laniirackssss @rubixgsworld @sweetienans @dasguccier @brain-palacee @ymnizuh @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @thewalkingdeadsmut @themindofmoe @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @v0lturiaq

[anders-hawke]

a lot of the frustration with part 2 seems to be coming from the fact that people are unwilling to view it as only a part of a whole story. Colin's sensitivity and self-worth issues didn't magically disappear once he admitted his feelings to Pen in the carriage. being with Pen is a dream come true and he's holding her up on this pedestal just as Pen had Colin on a pedestal until the end of season 2. finding out that she's Whistledown knocked her off that pedestal and allowed him to have the necessary character growth to realize that his worth as a person is not dependent on other people. he literally tells Pen that he thought he was the problem when really she has been the problem. and he is so blinded by his heartbreak that he can't understand that Pen being Whistledown is not her "true self" and the Pen he fell in love with and slept with and could be having a child with is not her "fake self" but that they are two halves of her whole self. he's put his entire being into this relationship in the hopes that taking care of Pen and ensuring her safety and happiness and impressing her and all of these unnecessary things would prove to be his purpose. and then he feels that all the things he's just committed himself to have been for a lie.

but Colin's anger isn't a stagnant thing, it evolves throughout the episodes. they argue outside Genevieve's and Colin learns that their relationship is not a lie. Pen loves him. she knows him better than anyone else. he still can't accept that Whistledown is part of her but he is assured that their love is real and that is why he's willing to have sex with her in that scene. because his need to be assured of her feelings has been fulfilled. people mistakenly think of that scene has being angry sex but it's not. Colin is not a man who fucks his way through his feelings. when he was having meaningless sex, that was pushing his feelings away, but he is not willing to do that with Pen. and he is also not willing to have sex with her when he is so conflicted over his role within their marriage. their wedding goes so well because Colin has been assured of Pen's love for him, so even though he's frustrated with her still, he sets that aside as he did the night before to just love her. and she hasn't been writing Whistledown so he feels that he can set it aside for now, and they can enter this marriage and he can convince her to leave the column behind. but then Pen tells him that she is not ashamed that Whistledown is part of her and he says he can't accept that and then, once again, he's unsure how to process his role in their relationship.

and because of that insecurity in his sense of self, he is not willing to have sex with her. he wants to, and he wants to kiss her, and love her, and laugh with her, etc. but he doesn't let himself do any of that because though giving in sounds nice, he is terrified of having no purpose in life, and he isn't willing to be with Pen unless he knows what his purpose is. and then he realizes that he's truly losing her, and he rereads her letters to realize that he always knew the whole of her, and she tells him again that he doesn't need to do anything to be worthy of love, and he realizes that even if his only purpose is simply to love Pen, then that is a fulfilling life to live. (it's not his only purpose, but that's besides the point.) just loving each other for who they are is enough.

[sadokasochism]

I am destroyed over the whole god/worshipper dynamic and have no idea how to adequately put it into words.

I mentioned in another post that Mizi could not fathom Sua ACTUALLY dying, or comprehend what death really meant, and attributed this to her relatively comfortable and sheltered life as the pet of Shine. She was not taught to conceptualise death as a loss, and she never faced any opposition to that world view. From what we know, she might have never really known true, lasting pain or loss before the end of Round 1.

However, her reaction could also be due to her placing Sua on a pedestal as her personal god and universe. She viewed Sua as her absolute everything, and why would any faithful worshipper believe their god could be killed? Only, while Sua was everything to HER, that perception did not carry over to their captors. Mizi's love and devotion was not enough to save Sua. Forces stronger than them both took her away like she was nothing.

How must Mizi have felt, having her perception of Sua as the centre of the universe shattered that way? Coming to the violent realisation that Sua was just another human, and that humans are indeed that vulnerable and disposable? That Sua could now only exist in memories and in the visions that haunt her? That Sua is not a god, but a ghost?

Now we look at Till's perception of Mizi. Again, in an earlier post I mentioned the tragedy of Till falling for someone who did not have a reason to leave. He had a lot of blind faith in Mizi, and it could be said that he idealised her as a paragon.

It's not hard to see how he reached this point. The poor kid had not been shown a lot of kindness in his life, and so meeting someone who was genuinely good and so full of joy must have had a huge impact on him.

However, his faith is still a blind one, but in a different way to Mizi's blind faith in Sua. He is happy to endure any amount of horrible treatment and does not expect anyone to help him. He doesn't resent Mizi for being so close to their captors, for her dreams stopping at Alien Stage. He doesn't resent her after he gives up on his chance at freedom and is subjected to who knows how many more years of pain and torment at the hands of their captors (Not that Mizi is at fault, Till made his own decision that Mizi likely never even knew about).

He sees Mizi's innocence and ignorance to the cruelty of their reality as something wonderful instead of a character flaw that prevents her from saving herself or her loved ones.

Sua has the same issue, seeking comfort and bliss within Mizi's brightness instead of acknowledging the cruel reality of their world. Maybe she felt sharing her perspective with Mizi would dim Mizi's bright spirit, and so she was more than content to wait out the clock with her god.

Maybe Sua felt that meeting Mizi, loving her and being loved by her in return, was nothing short of a miracle after the life she had lived before Anakt Garden. Maybe she felt in light of that, aspiring for something like freedom or a long, long life of happiness with the person she loved the most was asking far too much. The time she got with Mizi was already a miracle, why expect or demand anything more?

If Sua was afraid of Mizi losing her brightness, no wonder she was so affected by Ivan's lecture about becoming a source of trauma for Mizi after her death.

Ivan's view of Till as his god is a bit different. He is similar in that he doesnt seem to demand his devotion be reciprocated, he just wants his god to acknowledge him as a person, as someone that is at least PART of Till's universe, if he can't be all of it.

He is also very willing to become a martyr for his god while expecting nothing in return but Till continuing to live. He acknowledges Till as vulnerable and falable in a way that Till doesn't with Mizi, and Mizi didn't with Sua. He knows damn well that while Till is the centre of HIS universe, their captors certainly do not hold Till in that same regard. He knows that love and devotion in a vacuum does not save anyone.

Which is why he was always the one to free Till, to try and escape with him, and why he pulled the stunt he did in Round 6. Ivan knew that actually making an impact in this world required personal risk and sacrifice, because their captors don't give a fuck if you're in love or if that other pet-human they're about to kill means everything to you.

Till knew this too, but his idealised version of Mizi is too perfect to be broken and beaten down by this world the same way the rest of them have been. So he's still shattered by Round 5, seeing how far Mizi has fallen and then not knowing if she's alive or dead, but knowing for sure she is far out of reach. I wonder, did he regret not running away with Ivan at that point? Did he wonder what all those years of suffering were for, if he was just going to end up losing Mizi anyway? If this world was able to break her too, no matter what he did?

Mizi is gone and changed forever, and nothing he did could stop it. His love and devotion and sacrifice wasn't enough. He failed his god.

In Round 6, Ivan is faced with the same thing. His god has lost his fighting spirit, is changed forever, and Ivan's love and devotion wasn't enough to save him. The last thing he can give is his life, and hope that will be enough. Just like Sua. But he was never Till's god, was never even part of his universe, he probably won't even leave a ghost behind. So, the choice is obvious, really.

They're all so desperate for hope and connection in this lonely, painful existence that they make a person their entire universe, and then are repeatedly crushed when they are shown again and again that their soul-consuming love for one another is seemingly meaningless in a world that views them as infinitely disposable.

[lollytea]

Today's huntlow post is Darius centered, specifically on whatever the fuck he believed was going on.

I think that post-ASIAS his relationship with Hunter was steering in a tentatively positive direction and Darius was plenty capable of giving him some praise and brisk affection. But he still didn't entirely know how to get involved with Hunter's newfound teenage problems.

Hunter started texting Willow regularly during the time when he was getting along with Darius. And Darius, who thinks of most teenagers with disdain, does NOT like where this is going. He's developing a bit of a protective streak towards the Golden Guard and doesn't like how he is clearly getting rather obsessed with some girl that Darius can barely get a read on. All he knows about her personality from his brief interaction with her is that she's impressively gutsy. But that doesn't matter much in this situation.

Darius keeps asking, casually of course, if he can read Hunter's text threads with her, only for him to get all red and defensive and stress that his messages are private. It's endlessly frustrating. Like, how else is Darius supposed to get a temperature on this girl's intentions? Hunter? Hunter is not a reliable source in the slightest. Titan bless his stupid heart, he's not the best judge of character.

Though he's noticeably cagey about the messages, Hunter still ends up yapping about Willow frequently and Darius doesn't know if he believes a word coming out of that boy's mouth.

Darius was a high schooler once. Darius knows what high schoolers are like. Darius even knew a boy who was so uniquely eccentric and socially awkward that their peers found him entertaining. They strung him along for his unintentional comedic appeal rather than valuing him as a person.

There was a time when the idea of the Golden Guard marching into Hexside and subsequently getting humbled by his ruthless peers who do not give a Titandamn fuck about his title would have been hilarious to Darius. But not anymore.

Now Darius is beginning to see that the brat he's known all these years is a lot more vulnerable than he seems. Sensitive even. And though he's beginning to get attached to his peculiar disposition, Darius can still point out every mannerism that a conventionally socialized teenager could bully him for.

He does not like the thought that Hunter is exhausting all of his clumsy affection towards some girl who, as far as Darius is aware, does not care about him NEARLY as much as he cares about her.

Darius is self aware enough to know he might have a bias. The boy he knew ALSO got himself tangled up with a girl with a big frame and an even bigger personality and the consequences of THAT whole mess were literally apocalyptic. It's probably not the same, but it makes him uneasy nonetheless.

What if she's baiting him for interaction only to screenshot his messages and mock him to her friends? What if she's working him up to execute a prank? Or maybe she simply pities him. Somehow Darius finds that just as distressing as the other possibilities because it will probably shatter Hunter just the same.

If Darius is watching a catastrophe in slow motion there is nothing he can do about it. He has his hands tied with more pressing matters, such as preventing armaggedon. And every time he TRIES to subtly discourage Hunter from putting Willow on a pedestal (*scoffs* "She's just a teenage girl, little prince. There's hundreds just like her") he gets huffy and storms away for some reason.

ANYWAY

Timeskip. A few months later. The morning after their whole realm was Collector detoxed. Some people are still complaining that they feel phantom strings but the weird sensation is beginning to fade away.

There's no solid plans for where Hunter will take up permanent residence, so Darius has offered him a temporary place in his home until they can find a more suitable guardian. (Spoiler: not as temporary as they thought)

Hunter sleeps. Hunter sleeps a LOT. He has a lot of troubling experiences to recharge from, so Darius just leaves him to it.

That's when the girl appears at his doorstep, wringing her dishevelled braids. She doesn't look like she's slept soundly. "Can I see Hunter?" She asks.

(I imagine that the kids, specifically Hunter, Willow and Gus develop a bit of fire forged seperation anxiety after the events of season 3. They want to be in each others pockets for a few weeks to months afterwards.)

"Well," Says Darius. "If you hadn't arrived unannounced and actually given us some notice, I could have told you that he's dead to the world right now."

Her eyes widen.

"Asleep." He quickly corrects himself. "You'll have to come back later."

Willow is no longer the enigmatic high school girl who may or may not pose a threat to Hunter's confidence from Darius' perspective. He knows that she's the person who rescued him during the scout attack on Hexside. He knows she kept him company during that time and the Day of Unity. He knows he spent months with her in the Human Realm. He knows their bond had become far more serious than vapid high school friendships. He saw them in the hall of the Collector's Palace, standing close together for comfort, Hunter holding her as they searched for her parents.

Darius decided that even if he had no idea how their relationship began, it hardly mattered. The last few months had aged them considerably. There was no way Willow had the capacity to be a petty mean girl after all she had been through.

And now she wanted to visit Hunter, presumably because he mattered to her. Darius still didn't know the angle of this relationship. He simply knew that it was important to both of them.

And Willow does not give up. She frowns, dejected, before her brow scrunches up in determination. She asks to visit him anyway. She would just like to look at him, just to know that he's there. It doesn't matter if he's sleeping, she just wants to see him.

There is a lengthy pause.

"Not in a weird way," Willow clarifies.

"Right," Nods Darius. "You want to watch him sleep in a normal way."

Somehow, Darius allows it and lets Willow venture up to the room. Mostly because he knows he'll get an earful from Hunter if he finds out that he turned his special girl away.

Even if he still doesn't know how to feel about her, he knows she's harmless. To Hunter anyway. Maybe not to Darius. Once she realized that the man standing in the doorway was the barrier between her and Hunter, her eyes had flashed menacingly for a second. Titan only knows what she had considered doing before she caught herself.

It's about five minutes later when Darius wanders up to the doorway of Hunter's room himself. He leans in the threshold and observes.

The girl has perched herself on the side edge of Hunter's bed, her fingers dancing across his forehead as she delicately wipes back stray strands of ashy blond hair. She's watching his sleeping face with such unreserved tenderness that Darius wonders if they've been building teenagers different these days. They weren't this kind when he was young.

Darius clears his throat, sending Willow springing to her feet. She throws up her hands, as though to prove her innocence.

"I was just..." She mumbles, rose cheeked. "Leaving."

"Mmhmm."

Well. Darius knows one thing for certain now. This relationship is clearly not as pathetically one-sided as he initially feared. But....the reality of the situation is sure to prove very annoying. He's not looking forward to this.

[antianakin]

hey! i'm a star wars newbie who finally watched the first 6 movies + kenobi show after years of absorbing the sw fandom via friends. i'd become so familiar with the popular fanon takes/characterizations that i was really confused because so much of it seemed contradictory...especially regarding the obi wan & anakin relationship. i was wondering if my take was somewhat similar to yours, as i was immensely relieved to read some of yours and know that i haven't somehow misunderstood the entire series... i realize after writing this all out that it's absolutely a gigantic ask and i totally understand if you don't want to post it! so sorry!

my big thing was that i'd become used to the idea that anakin + obi wan are...obsessed with each other? both platonically and in the ship dynamic itself, especially from anakin's end. obi wan would do anything for anakin, and anakin would do anything for obi wan.

i didn't get that at all. obi wan stands by his jedi ideals, but loves anakin, feels guilt and blames himself for darth vader. but anakin?? somewhat reasonable if it was that he'd do anything for padme - her potential death is what torments him in rots - but...for obi wan? the guy that anakin didn't care enough about to warn/save from order 66? padme brought him up first, going "what about obi-wan" and anakin's response is "uh no idea. a lot of people died. let's hope that he's loyal if he's still around!" i was blown awayyy by the nonchalance. even though he just said farewell to obi wan in a heartwarming encounter where his old master explicitly gave him the trust that anakin is complaining that he doesn't receive, going "i'm proud of you", etc. etc., that's his response. i don't think he tried to help obi wan, or felt any specific turmoil about his likely death. yes he's focused on padme and everything's going so fast, but if anything, it shows that between padme and obi wan, obi wan loses. he doesn't mean as much to anakin, or at least, he's not worth that effort, if that makes sense. or maybe i missed something, since this is my first watch?

my immediate reaction was that anakin 100% fucking knew that obi wan would never approve of the things he's doing and plan to do - and unwilling to face that disappointment, because he does care about obi wan's opinion, he takes the coward's way out and lets palpatine do his thing, probably justifying it through his passivity. he's not directly harming obi wan! he's not responsible! and if obi wan does die and doesn't get to learn or react to the fact that his padawan committed these crimes then it's sad and terrible, but also...more convenient for anakin's own state of mind. and if he's alive - well he better be loyal to the chancellor! everything is about anakin. that's why he turns on padme: because in the end, she mattered more to him than obi wan, but still not more to him than himself.

i have no idea if this is an extremely morbid, bad-faith take since it's so different from what i've seen even amongst non-shipping fans. the assumption seems to be "they loved each other more than anyone, more than themselves!" and in my head after watching rots i'm just confused.

and don't get me wrong: this is not me trying to hate!! the relationship is pivotal to the story, but it's interesting to me because of the huge contradictions in anakin's image of obi wan. how he tries to build him up as larger than life, puts him on a jedi pedestal, and blames everything wrong with his life on him. but also how he undermines obi wan's efforts, has this one-sided rivalry thing going on and thinks he's better than obi wan. and of course, all that mixed with the genuine affection and love he does have for obi wan as a father-figure and master.

and i get the appeal of the absolutely-obsessed-with-each-other trope as well! i just don't think it fits these two. unless you think of it as "obi wan loved anakin, but anakin only became obsessed with him (in a homicidal, resentful, you stand for everything i lost and i can't stand leaving you alone kind of way) later". and i don't think obi wan thinking of/dreaming of anakin years later should be treated as a similar "obsession" because yeahh it seems extremely reasonable for him to be haunted by his own padawan's horrific crimes. i guess if anything it's a twisted one-sided unhealthy obsession? anyways wanted your thoughts on their relationship, if you have any!

I will say that a lot of Star Wars fans pull a lot of their chosen interpretations of these characters from lore beyond the first six films. There's obviously the more recent Disney shows, but there's also plenty of novels/comics that were written both before and after the Disney takeover that people have read, as well as (perhaps most notably) the animated TV show The Clone Wars (2008, not to be confused with the animated webseries Clone Wars from 2001-2002).

I'm not afraid of a long post, but I know it can be frustrating to scroll past for some people, so I'm going to give a short TL;DR before the cut and if you would like to read the extended version, please feel free to keep going, but I'd like to note that this response got unreasonably long.

TL;DR: I think Obi-Wan cares for Anakin a lot and that his arc in the Prequels is about learning to have faith that Anakin will do the right thing and when that faith is betrayed, he has to let go of it in order to do what’s best for the galaxy. Having faith is not the same as obsession. I also think that Obi-Wan loves Anakin selflessly, the way all Jedi learn to love, and this means that sometimes Obi-Wan cannot prioritize Anakin above everyone and everything else, but that this is not an indication of Obi-Wan loving Anakin LESS. I think Anakin does care about Obi-Wan, but that love is always wrapped up in his desire for a different kind of relationship than the one Obi-Wan can provide and that creates a lot of friction in their dynamic and is what allows Padme to eclipse Obi-Wan in Anakin’s affections and priorities. I also think Anakin is absolutely obsessed with gaining Obi-Wan’s approval and while this can lean in a toxic direction, I think that it also manages to sometimes push him to be a better person and creates a healthier relationship between Anakin and Obi-Wan than Anakin has with anybody else in his life. I think that the intended reading of their relationship is intended to be positive right up until it isn’t, but that ultimately the writing in the Prequels didn’t always succeed at getting that across and their attempts at fixing it didn’t feel like enough despite the actors’ chemistry with each other.

So I'll start with Obi-Wan and why I agree with you that his feelings for Anakin aren't anywhere NEAR as obsessed or attached as people seem to think. 

Within the Prequels, Obi-Wan’s primary arc as a character is about learning to have faith, both in the will of the Force (TPM) and in Anakin (AOTC). By ROTS, he’s reached the end of that arc and we see the difference in how he reacts to things as a result. He’s a lot more willing to just trust that things will turn out okay, more willing to trust that Anakin will figure himself out and do the right thing if given enough time and encouragement. People have interpreted this as Obi-Wan being too soft on Anakin or blind to Anakin’s faults or being too attached to Anakin (and therefore perhaps being willing to OVERLOOK faults that he knows Anakin has because he’d rather protect Anakin from the Council’s condemnation). 

But I don’t personally see it that way and I don’t honestly believe it’s what we’re supposed to take from his behavior. Obi-Wan is quite critical of Qui-Gon’s faith in TPM and then critical of Anakin himself in AOTC, so it’s not like he’s just always been willing to overlook Anakin’s flaws and mistakes. Obi-Wan’s LACK of faith earlier on is clearly positioned as a flaw for him to overcome. Just because that faith is misplaced and his trust goes unrewarded in the end doesn’t necessarily mean that he was wrong to have it in the first place. Obi-Wan’s faith allows him to accept that Anakin has faults and will make mistakes and trust that Anakin’s compassion and Jedi training will allow him to overcome those faults and learn from his mistakes. This is, in fact, the OPPOSITE of attachment. This is Obi-Wan choosing to let go of all of his worries about the future and living in the “here and now” as he is told to do by Qui-Gon in his very first scene. He accepts that there is only so much he can do to control Anakin’s fate and the rest of it is up to Anakin. 

In The Clone Wars 2008 (TCW), the problem with analyzing their relationship is that the structure of this show is so episodic and disconnected that there’s generally no set-up and no aftermath to the things that happen to these characters in individual episodes or arcs (which are anywhere from 2-4 episodes long out of a 22 episode season). So instead of trying to analyze an arc across the whole show, I will look at one specific arc that is really the only one that focuses on Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship (and perhaps one of the more controversial storylines in the entire show): the Deception arc.  

In this arc, Obi-Wan chooses to fake his death as a part of the Jedi Council's plan to discover an enemy plot that would be particularly disastrous for the Republic if it succeeded and possibly cost them the war. Obi-Wan chooses NOT to read Anakin in on this plan and part of the plan actually hinges on Anakin reacting to Obi-Wan's death as though it were real in order to make it convincing to their enemies, so Obi-Wan dies right in front of Anakin and Anakin has no idea that it isn't real until some time later and he is, understandably, fairly upset about it.

I think that this arc shows a lot about how Obi-Wan approaches their relationship. Obi-Wan doesn't necessarily WANT to cause Anakin pain, but he is also perfectly willing to do exactly that if it's in the name of protecting the needs of the many. In this case, Obi-Wan believes that he is protecting the whole Republic from losing a war. Anakin's temporary pain cannot be prioritized above the very real consequences of the Republic losing the war to the Separatists. Obi-Wan is capable of making the hard decision when it comes down to it, even if it means hurting someone he loves, even if it might cost him that relationship. And I also think that the emphasis on Obi-Wan’s choice to deceive Anakin (something that Yoda and even Mace Windu seem a little uncertain about) gives some interesting insight. Obi-Wan and the Jedi basically had to look at Anakin and wonder if his inability to keep secrets well (they’re all aware of Anakin’s relationship with Padme despite his attempts to deny it) was a bigger problem than his unpredictability in the face of strong emotions like grief. There is a very obvious acknowledgement of Anakin's flaws here, and the difference between Obi-Wan and Yoda/Mace in this instance isn't that one of them can see Anakin's flaws and the other can't, but that they disagree on which flaw is going to be a bigger issue for the mission in the long term. Obi-Wan chooses to have faith that Anakin will manage his emotions but doesn't really believe in Anakin's acting abilities and OpSec sensibilities.

Because of the way TCW is structured, we have no real aftermath to this particular arc, there's no further discussion or exploration of how it impacts Anakin and Obi-Wan once the four episode arc is over, so all we can really do is analyze what happens DURING the arc, and I do think that it showcases the same theme of faith and a willingness to do his duty while acknowledging Anakin's flaws that we have seen in Obi-Wan through the Prequel trilogy. Obi-Wan prioritizes his duty over anything else, because to do otherwise is to fail as a Jedi and potentially to condemn millions if not trillions of people to death and torture and slavery. (Which doesn't mean he doesn't love Anakin, but simply that his feelings for Anakin do not eclipse that particular duty. Not everyone would make the same choice, and that doesn't necessarily mean that their love is automatically toxic or more selfish than Obi-Wan’s, but Obi-Wan's choice to place his duty over Anakin's feelings also doesn't automatically mean that he doesn't care about Anakin at all or that he cares less about Anakin than Anakin cares for him.)

The last thing I will say about this arc in this section is that fandom often misinterprets this arc as the Council FORCING Obi-Wan to lie to Anakin. This is explicitly contradicted IN THE DIALOGUE, Obi-Wan point blank tells Anakin that it was his choice and not the Council's and Yoda questions the decision early on and claims it to be have been a mistake later, so anyone claiming that the Council forced this on Obi-Wan is just wrong.

There's a lot of comics and novels that look more at this relationship that I have never actually read, so just know that some fans' interpretations of their relationship could be coming from having consumed these comics and novels as kids. The one novel I'll discuss a little is Matthew Stover's Revenge of the Sith novelization. I will fully admit I haven't read it myself, I've only read snippets of it, but it comes really highly regarded and well reviewed. The line in question here comes from an extended version of the conversation between Obi-Wan, Yoda, and Mace Windu where they're talking about Anakin as Yoda heads off to Kashyyyk.

“I think," Obi-Wan said carefully, "that abstractions like peace don't mean much to him. He's loyal to people, not to principles. And he expects loyalty in return. He will stop at nothing to save me, for example, because he thinks I would do the same for him." Mace and Yoda gazed at him steadily, and Obi-Wan had to lower his head. "Because," he admitted reluctantly, "he knows I would do the same for him.”

Now, the bit about Anakin at the top I think is completely accurate. But I do not buy that Obi-Wan would ever do the same for Anakin. We actually see so many moments that explicitly seem to prove this wrong, that Obi-Wan would NOT “stop at nothing” to save him. Obi-Wan seems to very explicitly prioritize doing his duty above Anakin when push comes to shove. Most obviously, Obi-Wan does actually go fight Anakin after Order 66 and tries more than once to kill him and ultimately leaves him to die on Mustafar. Obi-Wan does his duty when Anakin doesn't give him another choice. He's unable to land a final killing blow, yes, and this does seem to be a direct payoff to his claim to Yoda that he can't kill Anakin because of how much he cares about Anakin, but Anakin is pretty badly injured and ON FIRE by the time Obi-Wan walks away, so there's really no reason to believe that Anakin won't just die here (especially since Yoda is supposed to be handling Palpatine). He's willing to let Anakin die to spare the galaxy.

It doesn't even make any SENSE for it to be true, especially with the implication that Mace and Yoda both also believe it to be true. Obi-Wan is on the Jedi High Council and has the rank of Master, something that isn't just handed out lightly (as seen by the refusal to give it to Anakin when he hasn’t earned it), and the rest of this book goes out of its way to have the Council point out how much they love and trust Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan is THEIR DUDE, they think he's the best at everything ever and trust only him with the most dangerous missions because of how great he is. But somehow the two highest ranked members of this Jedi Council also simultaneously believe that Obi-Wan would "stop at nothing" (which encompasses so many things from just abandoning his duty to literally destroying democracy and committing genocides) to save one person. I don't see how these two things can both be true at once. If Mace and Yoda genuinely believed this about Obi-Wan, they never should've given him this position of leadership and I don't buy that they'd think as highly of him as they clearly do in this book. It's ridiculous. I'm sure the book is great, the prose in the snippets I've read of it do seem to be really pretty and there's plenty I've read that I've actually quite enjoyed, but this line just pisses me off. So it's possible you will see people try to use this line to argue that Obi-Wan was obsessed with/attached to Anakin, but I think that's kind-of bullshit and I don't think it even makes sense within the book it exists in.

And that leaves us with the Disney era, and the one thing we can really look at here is the Obi-Wan Kenobi show. 

Obi-Wan is obviously struggling a lot for the majority of the show and the core of it is what happened with Anakin, but it goes so far beyond that. He's lost his entire family, his community, his culture, his home, and both he and his people are being hunted down. The one person he feels he has left is being raised by people who won't even let them speak to each other. The only other possible connection he can make is with someone who died decades earlier and he's not succeeding at making that connection. Those failures eat away at him just as much as anything else does. It's not just about Anakin and it never is.

I’m also going to go back to that initial theme of FAITH for Obi-Wan. In the Prequels, his arc is about learning to have faith in the will of the Force and in Anakin. That faith was betrayed in the end, and so his faith is pretty minimal during this show at the beginning. But each time he’s proven wrong by a new person he meets, he gains it back a little more. He starts to trust that people ARE inherently good, that there’s a reason to keep fighting, and that he can believe in a better world. And he does try to bring that newfound faith into his confrontation with Anakin in the end, he apologizes to Anakin “for everything” and doesn’t take the opportunity to kill him when Anakin is defeated. But he does have to let go of his faith in Anakin, he has to accept that this is a faith that is never again going to be rewarded. He has to accept that he wasn’t wrong to have faith in general and that he SHOULD be more trusting of people in general, and Anakin made his own choices and will CONTINUE to make his own choices regardless of what Obi-Wan does or does not do. Just because Anakin chose to betray him doesn’t mean that Obi-Wan was wrong to trust him. Again, the end of this entire story for Obi-Wan is about recognizing Anakin’s inherent flaws and accepting them before choosing to WALK AWAY. 

The Obi-Wan Kenobi show is not a perfect show by any means, and I will never try to claim that it is. One of the issues with it is that there are some logistical issues in it that are a little confusing if taken literally. So one of the ways that I am able to make my peace with those little logistical problems is to see the show as more of a long visual metaphor for Obi-Wan's journey towards mental health rather than taking it literally. Maybe all of it happened exactly as we saw it, maybe it didn't.

The visions that Obi-Wan seems to have of Anakin could be taken literally as actual visions Obi-Wan is having, but it could also be interpreted as just a metaphor for Obi-Wan's guilt and pain and fear. 

The flashback sequence where Obi-Wan and Anakin are sparring together could be taken literally as a regular flashback, it could be interpreted as a shared Force vision between the two of them, or it could be interpreted as just a representation of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s state of mind in the present day as they engage in a battle of wits. It also reinforces that idea of a shared history and how Obi-Wan's strength has never been in pure power but in cleverness and resourcefulness..

And that final confrontation could have happened. Maybe it did. But maybe it didn't. Anakin is a representation of Obi-Wan’s faith and trust being betrayed, but he’s been re-learning that trust and faith in people IS rewarded more often than it isn’t, so his faith in Anakin wasn’t the issue. And even if it were, it doesn't really matter anymore. Even if Obi-Wan did make mistakes with Anakin, he was never controlling Anakin's choices. Anakin made these choices himself and is STILL making them himself and the responsibility for them should be placed squarely on Anakin's shoulders. Obi-Wan has to let go of his need to understand Anakin's choices in order to forgive himself for whatever part he may have played in them and learn to have hope for the future again. The confrontation between Obi-Wan and Anakin is, to me, just as much a confrontation between Obi-Wan and his own fears as it is a confrontation between Obi-Wan and Anakin. It's not dissimilar from the Dagobah cave sequence with Luke.

So, personally, I see this entire scene as just one giant metaphor rather than something more literal. Which is why I can accept Obi-Wan walking away from Anakin a second time, knowing that Anakin will continue to live and torment the galaxy as a result, rather than finishing the job when he has the opportunity and doing his duty. Because if it’s not really happening, then Obi-Wan walking away is just a visual representation of him choosing to let go of his guilt and his doubts and his fears, and not a complete failure on Obi-Wan’s part that condemns the galaxy to another decade under Vader’s thumb. I don’t see this show as proof that Obi-Wan is obsessed with Anakin so much as I see it as the show choosing to use Anakin’s visage as a representation of Obi-Wan’s feelings weighing him down. 

So, in conclusion, my interpretation is that Obi-Wan has FAITH in Anakin (and the will of the Force) in the Prequels, which constitutes acknowledging and accepting Anakin’s flaws while simultaneously choosing to believe that Anakin will be able to overcome them. This is the definition of balance in Star Wars, and something every Jedi is striving to achieve. That faith is severely damaged after Order 66 and Obi-Wan does flounder as a result, but is able to ultimately regain his faith in people and in the will of the Force by accepting that he can no longer have faith in Anakin and that Anakin made his own choices despite the support and training he received from Obi-Wan. 

Which brings us to Anakin.

I don’t find your take to be particularly morbid at all. It’s a little bad faith, but I will say that the thing with bad faith takes is that sometimes that interpretation comes from a problem in the writing creating a dissonance with the intended message. So while it sometimes doesn’t appear as though Anakin cares very much about Obi-Wan, the dialogue and vibes of the films are trying to let us know that he DOES care about Obi-Wan quite a lot and that it’s a pretty central relationship in Anakin’s life that he relies on (and, to some degree, takes for granted). I’m not sure that this always comes across super well, especially in the films (and most especially in AOTC), and that lends itself to more bad faith takes on their relationship. So despite my love for bad faith takes about Anakin, I will attempt to be as balanced as I can here.

I do think that almost all of Anakin’s canon relationships have an element of attachment to them, even the nicer ones, which means that there’s always some element of obsession and possessiveness to it, and Obi-Wan is not an exception.

Part of why I think he has this relationship with Obi-Wan is due to Anakin’s desperate need to have someone whose life revolves around him, replicating the relationship he had with Shmi. Despite the fact that Shmi was not attached to Anakin, their relationship was defined by the environment in which he was raised. Shmi’s entire world revolved around Anakin and doing what was best for him and making him happy to try to make up for the fact that they were enslaved as much as she was capable of providing. And, on some level, Anakin NEEDS that, but Obi-Wan never actually provides it (because Obi-Wan is a Jedi and cannot let his life revolve around one person and is attempting to teach Anakin those same values, not because Obi-Wan doesn’t care about Anakin or cares about him less than Shmi did). Obi-Wan is, for ten years, the primary relationship in Anakin’s life, but the frustration of not getting precisely what he wants out of it leads to resentment and obsession. 

Ironically, I also think that this also leads to Anakin’s relationship with Obi-Wan being one of the healthiest Anakin ever has. Anakin wants Obi-Wan’s approval and in order to get it, Anakin has to actually act MORE LIKE A JEDI, which generally involves a lack of attachment. So there’s actually multiple moments in both the films and TCW where we see Obi-Wan’s relationship with Anakin sort-of inspire an ability to act more rationally and selflessly than he does with other people he’s attached to (Shmi, Padme, Ahsoka, even Palpatine sometimes). 

My favorite example of this is actually in TCW. The basic premise is that Obi-Wan and Anakin (and Ahsoka and their troops) are on a mission that goes south quickly and they end up separated. Towards the beginning, Anakin learns that Obi-Wan’s ship crashed and so he’s probably pretty injured if he’s still alive at all, but Anakin and his troops are still pretty far away from where Obi-Wan is. It’s actually Ahsoka who protests when Anakin decides to ignore the information and just keep moving forward, and while Anakin initially snaps at her about it, he then immediately centers himself and turns back to explain that while they COULD run ahead to help Obi-Wan, it would mean abandoning their troops in enemy territory to do it, and they have to prioritize protecting their men and trust that Obi-Wan will be okay on his own. This moment shows not only that Anakin can actually make the right decision on his own despite how emotional he is about Obi-Wan’s situation, but also that when he DOES let his emotions control him a little, he is also able to center himself enough to explain all of this to his student rather than just shut her down. Being a better Jedi has the ripple effect of helping Anakin’s men and his student (as well as potentially ensuring the success of the mission in the long term by making sure that his men survive to bolster their forces later). 

So, I do think there’s an obsession on Anakin’s end of things, but this obsession doesn’t necessarily mean that he can’t be obsessed with someone else MORE or that the obsession can’t turn into something healthier and more mature with some effort. 

As far as Anakin's nonchalance towards Obi-Wan in the films goes, one of my biggest criticisms of AOTC is that the relationship between Anakin and Obi-Wan was not handled particularly gracefully. This is something that they did recognize in post production and tried to fix by adding in that elevator scene towards the beginning, but it definitely gets overwhelmed by the more negative vibes of their relationship in the rest of the movie. They spend most of their time arguing with each other or critiquing each other in conversations with other people. 

I do wish we’d gotten more of a positive dynamic between them in AOTC to help sell that these two characters cared about each other despite their disagreements, but we didn’t. But the fact that they chose to film an extra scene specifically to help make their relationship more positive tells me that the intended reading of their relationship is supposed to be positive even if they’re going through a rough patch within the context of that one movie.The other thing to keep in mind is that Anakin is supposed to be 19 years old in AOTC and this kind of… rejection of the parental figure’s authority at the same time as they are desperate for the parent’s approval seems fairly normal for teenagers, and we know that Lucas was trying to make Anakin a relatively authentic “whiny teenager” (I think Hayden Christensen said something to Lucas during filming about how the character came off as a whiny teenager and Lucas’s response was “but he IS a whiny teenager”). So while that bratty behavior tends to read as a lack of care, it probably wasn’t intended that way.

They do seem a lot closer during the Invisible Hand sequence at the beginning of ROTS where their banter feels less mean-spirited and they’re able to figure out compromises when they disagree. They feel more like equals with a greater confidence and comfort in their relationship. The problem for me here is that AOTC’s failure to really make it seem like Anakin and Obi-Wan cared about each other makes this sudden change to their dynamic in ROTS feel a little jarring to me. There is a three year time gap, obviously, but it doesn’t feel like quite enough, especially since his betrayal of Obi-Wan happens halfway through the film and that emotional ending is only earned if we bought into their relationship as a positive thing that mattered to both of them. 

This is where TCW steps in. I have… issues with TCW and the way Obi-Wan and Anakin are written in the show sometimes, but one of the things it did try to do was help bridge that gap between their rockier relationship dynamic in AOTC and the much more positive one they have in ROTS. In the earlier seasons, there’s still some of that rebelliousness from Anakin, that need he feels to one-up Obi-Wan by refusing to do what he asks and butting heads with him at every opportunity. By the later seasons, we see their dynamic shift more towards what we saw in ROTS, where their interactions feel more like friendly teasing and banter than butting heads. Some of the reason for this is just time passing, some of it is Anakin being Knighted and he and Obi-Wan able to be equals in a way that wasn’t as possible in their Master/Padawan dynamic, but the biggest explanation TCW provides for why their relationship shifted was Anakin being given a Padawan of his own which allowed him to mature and connect with Obi-Wan in a way he never would have otherwise. 

However, while Obi-Wan and Anakin’s relationship is intended to have stabilized and improved over those three years between AOTC and ROTS, he also betrays Obi-Wan four days later and then proceeds to try to kill him personally, so TCW also tried to provide an explanation for that. This is where we come back to the Deception arc and look at Anakin’s side of things. 

First off, the Deception arc does actually provide some solid evidence of how much Anakin truly cares about Obi-Wan and how he reacts to Obi-Wan being in danger when Padme isn’t a part of the equation. During the time period where Anakin thinks Obi-Wan is dead, he becomes very disoriented and fractured. Anakin has a tendency to mask his grief with anger (something we see pretty clearly when his mother dies in AOTC) and that is exactly what happens after Obi-Wan's "death." He is able to mostly control himself at the beginning of the arc (including stating out loud that he WANTS to kill the assassin who “killed” Obi-Wan and the only reason he doesn’t is out of respect for Obi-Wan’s memory), but he isn't really opening up to anybody and seems to be pushing away everyone who cares about him.

When Anakin learns the truth about Obi-Wan’s deception, he seems to mostly hold it together until the mission is actually complete, but his true feelings come to light when he speaks to Obi-Wan afterwards and they aren't pretty. He's angry with Obi-Wan for the deception, angry at the seeming lack of trust. But despite Obi-Wan telling him point blank that it was HIS choice to deceive Anakin rather than something the Council forced him to do, Anakin refuses to see this as anything other than a flaw in the Council, wondering aloud how often they've lied to both himself AND Obi-Wan. This clearly is intended to show a wedge being shoved into the relationship Anakin has with Obi-Wan and the Council, a breach of trust in the name of the greater good (something Anakin doesn’t truly believe in or respect much), and this adds to the resentment and frustration that Palpatine is encouraging in Anakin so that by the time they reach the events of ROTS, Anakin can convince himself to turn on Obi-Wan and the Jedi because they were “traitors to the Republic” and “trying to take over.” He knows it isn’t true, but the things that he knows were true in the past allow him to pretend that what he’s doing now is right. They were willing to lie to him and betray him once, why couldn’t it be true a second time?

This arc is interesting in how it sort-of portrays both the worst and best of their relationship. Anakin does manage to control himself at the beginning, specifically because he wants to respect Obi-Wan’s values even if Obi-Wan himself is dead. He wants to live up to the person Obi-Wan believed him to be, despite how much pain he’s currently in and how much he WANTS to hurt the assassin he thinks caused it. Keep in mind just how quickly he turned on the Tuskens and how little thought he put into killing them all until it was over, and then compare that to Anakin making the choice to hold himself back when it’s Obi-Wan’s death he’s faced with instead of his mother’s. But by the end, when it’s not regular grief he’s faced with but broken trust, we see Anakin find it difficult to see things from Obi-Wan’s point of view, we see his respect for Obi-Wan’s values disappear. But because he cares about Obi-Wan, he also then refuses to believe something that Obi-Wan is telling him very plainly because he’d actually rather blame the Council and aim his pain at the Council than face the truth that Obi-Wan lied to him and perhaps didn’t trust him the way Anakin thought he did. Anakin has a tendency to paint over uncomfortable truths with pretty lies instead of facing them and that’s exactly what he does here, perhaps to the ultimate detriment of his relationship with both Obi-Wan and the Council. 

Unfortunately, due to the way TCW is structured, there is exactly no further exploration of these events and how they impact Anakin and Obi-Wan going forward. We have no idea when or how Anakin chose to forgive Obi-Wan, and since this arc is pretty close to the end of the season, I don’t think we even see them in a scene together again until the following season when they seem totally fine around each other and there’s no lingering resentment or bitterness at all. I don’t know if this would make Anakin’s unwillingness to really try to save Obi-Wan from Order 66 at all make more sense or not, but I do think that’s part of the intent behind this particular arc. 

I often feel the way you do in my more bitter moments, like Anakin didn’t really care for Obi-Wan at all if he was able to betray him like that in the end, like Obi-Wan was always playing second fiddle to Padme and that should’ve been a bigger issue in their relationship than it was presented as, and like Obi-Wan deserved a better friend and student than he got in Anakin. I understand the appeal the relationship has for people, especially given how central it is to their characters, and I have enjoyed it myself in the past, but I’m just less into it these days. Even when I did like them, though, I don’t think I viewed them as equally obsessed with each other, and even if I did, that wasn’t why it appealed to me. To each their own, obviously, but the nice thing about the Star Wars fandom is that it’s large enough that there’s generally something for everyone to enjoy even if you don’t like all of it. If you’re interested in exploring more of Star Wars, I really hope that you go for it and find the parts of it that really speak to you! 

[sparkleofpizza]

Emails I can’t send - Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: There's no us in us when I'm lacking trust. Inspired by the song Emails I can't Send by Sabrina Carpenter.

Word count: 2.2k

Paring: Spencer Reid x  fem!Reader

Warnings: slightly AU, no happy ending, cursing, angst

You stared as Spencer smiled upon looking at his ringing phone, but averted your eyes before anyone could catch you looking. It had been like this for a while now and you knew he was talking to a woman because you overheard him the other day whispering her name as he answered the phone.

Maeve.

It was a pretty name, and she probably had a pretty face too.

It made you wonder if the last time you asked him to go on a date and he said he was tired and had a headache was true. If you could  go back in time and I find out what he was doing on October 13th, if he was lying to you or not.

The situation was making it hard to focus on usual tasks at work because you kept wondering if your boyfriend is cheating on you. But you knew you were being foolish, a part of you knew the truth and the other part didn’t want to accept it because it didn’t seem right that someone like him would do something like this to you.

You opened a new e-mail on your computer.

To: spencerreid@gmail.com

Spencer,

I know what you're doing. I don't know for how long it has been going on or what I did wrong for you to seek someone else. I wish you at least had the guts to call it ends with me before getting together with someone else. I thought you were better than this, but maybe it is my own fault for putting you too high on a pedestal, instead of seeing the truth. Maybe what they say is truth, love does blind people.

You stared at what you've written, but you knew you couldn't send it.

It was killing you on the inside, as the days went by and you still couldn't bring yourself to say something to him. Everytime Spencer would look at you and smile, hold your hand while walking, put his arms around you and kissed you, you knew he was thinking about someone else.

You wanted to cuss him out. Yell at him and tell him to never speak to you again. But you were holding onto the crumbs he was feeding you. And it was honestly tiring.

But you knew a conversation was coming and that it was long overdue. So it wasn't really a surprise when he showed up at your apartment in the middle of the night, holding out a bouquet of flowers and a sheepish smile upon his handsome face.

"Spence, did something happen?" You managed to say in between yaws. It was three am, after all.

"I-I couldn't sleep, and I kept thinking about you. So I thought I should come and see you."

You nodded, rubbing your eyes and letting him inside your apartment. You closed the door behind him.

"These are for you." He handed you the flowers.

A fresh bouquet of daisy, your favorite flowers.

"Thank you." You smiled, going to the kitchen to fetch a vase.

He trailed behind you, watching you as you filled the vase with water and placed the flowers inside.

"Where did you find a flower shop open at three in the morning?" You asked, turning around to look at him as you decided where to place the flowers.

"I, uh, went wandering around."

You nodded, walking past him to place them on top of the dinner table.

"Did I forget about some important milestone in our relationship or…?"

"What? No."

You looked at him over your shoulder "Then why the flowers?"

"Can't I just bring flowers to my girlfriend out of love and no other reason?"

You forced a smile, coming up to wrap your arms around him.

"Of course you can. Thank you, I loved them."

Spencer kissed the top of your head, caressing your hair.

You opened your mouth, ready to say something, but he was holding you so tight and he did bring you flowers. You didn't want to ruin the moment, you didn't know how many more you had left. So you closed your mouth and closed your eyes, enjoining his warmth.

You'd have to talk to him eventually, but now wasn't the right time.

That night you spent in his arms, watching as he slept peacefully, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes, because everytime you did, you kept picturing him with the faceless woman.

When you finally managed to fall asleep, you woke up in what felt like minutes later. Spencer’s side of the bed dipped and you instantly missed his warmth. You pretended to still be asleep as he rummaged through the room and left the bedroom.

You stayed quiet for a while until you hear him whisper hello. You furrowed your brows, is he really talking to her while at your place after spending the night tangled in your body?

You quietly left the bed and crept behind the hallway wall, where you could listen to him talking on the phone while brewing coffee.

“I just wanted to hear your voice before I fully start my day.” He said, and you could tell there was a smile on his face. “And to wish a good morning and an amazing day.”

There was a pause, she was probably talking. You heard him giggle. Giggle. Like a school girl with a crush, he giggled because of someone else. You felt your heart squeeze in your chest.

Deciding enough is enough, you decided to make your presence known by loudly wishing him good morning.

He had his back turned to you when you rounded the corner and place his phone in a hurry inside his sweatpants pocket.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” There was a smile on his face and you wondered how he could lie to you so well. “I just started to brew us coffee.”

“Were you talking to someone?” You asked absently, opening the fridge to get some eggs.

“No.” He lied. “There are only us here.”

There’s no us in us when I’m lacking trust.

“It must have been the neighbors then.”

“They sure know how to make noise.” He laughed.

Spencer started rumbling about the things you two could get done on your day off next wednesday. He was telling you about this new coffee shop that just opened up downtown and how he was excited to take you there. But all you could hear was: She will be there and I want to see her, but since I can’t I am going to take you to see her with me and you won’t know I’m seeing her, but I’m only there because of her.

He kept talking and talking and talking, but all you could think was that he would rather make these plans with her. How he liked her more. How she was better than you.

“I know you’re cheating on me.” You blurted out.

There was a moment of silence. Your back was turned to him while you plated your omelets, so couldn’t see his reaction.

“W-What?” He asked after way too many minutes of silence.

You turned around. Spencer was sitting on your kitchen counter, he used to belong there, but now it didn’t feel like it. His ears were red, which meant his is flustered.

“I know about Maeve.” You simply said.

“I. There is nothing going on between me and Maeve.”

“If there’s nothing going on between you two then why are you hiding her from me?” You questioned. “You know about all fo my friends and I thought I knew about all of yours too.”

He pursed his lips. “You know I don’t have friends aside from you and our coworkers.”

“Well, you’ve got to make up your mind, Spence. If she’s not your friend then what is she? Why do you need to call her to hear her voice first thing in the morning?”

You watched as he visibly gulped.

“She’s just a girl I’ve been talking to.”

“You don’t talk to other people while in a relationship.”

“It’s different. She understands me.”

“And I don’t?” You fired back.

“It’s… different. It’s just different.” He repeated

There was another moment of silence. The fact that he wasn’t trying to explain it further or tell you that you were crazy… He was just looking at you with pure sad eyes. That’s when you knew it was already over.  

“I think we’re done here.” You said, hoping your voice didn’t sound as small as you felt “You should go.”

He stood up.

“What do you mean we’re done?” He asked in an ever smaller voice.

You choked up a laugh.

“It means you and I are done. I hope she makes you happy.”

You started to walk away, but you heard him call out your name. You paused in the hallway, not daring to look at him.

“Close the door on your way out.” Was the last thing you said before retreating to the bedroom.

The days that followed were dull and full of ache. Seeing him everyday was pure torture.

You’d watch as Spencer opened his mouth every time you were close to each other, but on better look at you and he’d look away. You wondered if you were looking as bad as you felt. You were trying your best to not let your emotions cloud your judgment and show off how you were really feeling. You’d already deflected all of the attempted conversation from your coworkers, but you knew they weren’t dumb and had already caught up on what happened. You knew it was only a matter of time before they finally corner you and get you to talk.

“Hotch, good morning, sir.” You knocked on your boss’ office door. He looked up from the computer and motioned for you to come in. “I was wondering if I could take a few days off to visit my family in New York.”

He nodded.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with agent Reid, does it?”

You internally cringed at being called out by your boss.

“No sir.” You cleared your throat. “My uh sister just gave birth and I would like to meet my niece.”

“Of course. Take a few days off, I’ll call you if you're needed.”  

“Thank you.”

To: spencerreid@gmail.com

We were supposed to be aunt and uncle together, yet here I am being an aunt all alone because you decided to throw our relationship away. You suck.

Spending a week in New York was actually what you really needed to try and not focus on your heartbreak. Helping your sister with her newborn was the perfect distraction.

The moment you arrived home without Spencer by your side, your family instantly knew there was something wrong. You’ve been together for a very long time and he was practically part of the family already, every time you visited your parents he would go with you. His presence is known and his absence felt weird.

You told them superficially what happened. Weirdly you didn’t want to ruin his relationship with your family. You simply told them you two broke up because you wanted different things in life at the moment, that wasn’t a complete lie, you wanted him and he wanted someone else - different things.

That week you were at your parent's house, you met a guy. He was nice, one of the nicest people you've ever met. You two were talking all the time, texting and texting, and you kind of felt like a teenager with a crush. But you thought Spencer was a nice guy too.

You kept imagining that he had a wife hidden away somewhere, a family too. He was just lying to you, and you'd be part of a love affair you weren't aware of.

I get nice guys and villainize them

When you returned home after a week away, you were in shock standing in the hallway. Your doorstep was covered in all kinds of flowers, chocolates and literally anything you have ever mentioned to taking a liking to.

You knew who they were from, there was only ever one person who could've ever done something like this. For a moment you let yourself imagine that there was still hope. Maybe you've gotten it all wrong, he did say it was just different with her. You could get over emotional cheating, couldn't you? Well, for him you'd do just about anything.

Tears gathered into your eyes. Spencer could still be yours. Maybe you should give him a chance to explain it all to him.

Your phone rang inside your purse. You answered with a smile on your face.

"Hey, Spencer."

He said your name so heartbrokenly, he was suffering just like you. He missed you as well.

"I need your help. It's Maeve, she's in danger. I… I can't lose her."

And just like that your little bubble of hope was shattered into a million pieces, just like your heart.

To: spencerreid@gmail.com

Spencer, I love you but you’re such a dipshit.

[ashisgreedy]

Garreth Weasley x F!MC

"Fulfilling A Fantasy"

Tags: Smut 18+🔞 MDNI | Established relationship | 1st f!anal | Anal prep w fingers/toys/mouth | Anal Penetration | Spanking | Praise | Garreth is a bit obsessed with this fantasy~ | Aged up 21+ | A|N at the end.

WC: 2,745

MC was laying naked on her stomach atop the bed. She had a pillow under her hips that made her ass stick up in the air. 

Garreth was pulling out several toys he’d collected for this very occasion along with a sizeable bottle of lubricant. He lined them up next to her legs and kept rubbing his hand over her backside and thighs. 

MC looks back at her boyfriend. “That’s a lot of plugs…” 

Her nervousness was made clear well before all of this started. Garreth promised to stop anytime for any reason, no questions asked if she wanted him to. 

“Well, I may have gone a bit overboard. Some of them are just for pleasure and not really prepping…” He picked two up and compared them. “This one,” He lifted a tapered egg-shaped plug. “It's more for stretching and… well it is also pleasurable.” He smiled. His cheeks were already pink from his flustered state. “This one,” He lifted the other. It was tapered and longer with three bulges. “This is a bit more for pleasure. I probably won't use all of them.” He raked his hand in his hair, visibly excited. 

He relaxed on one arm next to her legs. He was also already fully naked. 

“Well…” She wiggled her hips a little. Garreth’s gaze shot to her ass region in an instant. She smiled at the effect this was already having on him. “I’m ready when you are.” She finished. 

“We will take it slow.” He reassured her, “We go at your pace, little witch.” 

His lubed finger slid over her slit up to her ass. He rubs in a circular motion. It felt a bit chilly on her skin but warmed very quickly.

“Mm… No one has ever touched me there so.” She lets out a soft laugh. “It’s a bit… interesting.”

“I really like touching you there…” Garreth spoke in a low voice.

He’d brought this up to her more times than she could count during the course of their relationship. It wasn’t that she didn’t want it, it just felt a bit too taboo to her and made her nervous to try something out of the box. But she trusted her boyfriend. Plus, the way his face lit up when she agreed to it made her more happy than she dared to admit. 

He was already obsessed with grabbing her ass and keeping his hand on it when he could get away with it. She knew he was a bit obsessed with her body at this point and very much loved the effect it had on him. 

His finger gently pressed inside her.

“Whew…” she breathed. The lube made it easy for his finger to intrude. 

She jerked her hips when he moved his digit in and out. 

“You’re doing so well, just relax.” He rubbed her thigh comfortingly. “You will get used to the sensation after a bit.” He reassured her. 

She blushes when he starts to play more. He moves his finger all the way in, twisting and pulling out. He dripped more lube onto her ass as he did this, getting her insides nice and coated. 

Garreth was between her legs while her ass was propped up in the air like some kind of art piece on a pedestal. Her legs were spread to accommodate his width and he could see everything from his viewpoint. 

“It’s a bit… humiliating.” She tries to joke but her breath hitches when a second finger presses against her hole. 

“It’s just us. No need to feel embarrassed.” He kissed her inner thigh and slowly adds the second finger. 

His free hand moves up her waist and down to her knee. He caresses her skin, making her feel more comfortable and reassured. 

“Do you have to watch like that?” She laughs breathlessly. 

“Yep.” He sent her a smirk when she looked back at him.  

The intrusion didn’t feel normal for a while. It was nice, just strange. She could feel how relaxed her hole was getting and whimpered when he removed his fingers. 

“Shh, shh,” He was grinning. “I’m just getting a toy now, okay? I’ll put something inside you again, don’t worry.” He pats her thigh reassuringly, teasing her. His delight was obvious that she was enjoying herself too.

She buried her face in the pillow to hide her blush. Was she really starting to crave the sensation? 

A blunt object pressed against her asshole and she tensed. It was covered in lube, feeling a bit cold. 

“Relax, little witch.” He soothed. 

She relaxed and squeaked when he pressed harder. 

Garreth sighed, squeezing her ass cheek with his free hand. “I’ll take it slow. Let me know if you need to stop.”

It took a few minutes of him slowly pushing, but soon she was shuddering as the plug fit snugly all the way in. 

“Gods…” Garreth let go of the toy and let it sit inside her. He grabbed her cheeks and squeezed, spreading them wider, pushing them up, and kneading them. “How does it feel?” 

She looked back and noticed just how hard his cock was slowly getting. 

“Feels fine, it's good. I’m comfortable.” 

He nodded, working hard to fix a smile on his lust-filled face. “I’m going to move it a bit now.” 

She nodded and felt him start to pull on the plug. He pulled just enough to take it out halfway before pushing it back in.

“Woah…” She gasped.

“Good, bad? Need a break?” He stood still. 

“Good! It's fine. It just feels so… interesting. I’m kind of liking it…” She sends him a small smile. 

Garreth’s face lights up as he starts to tug on the plug again. He doesn’t remove it all the way and keeps pulling and pushing it back into her. 

She felt quite stretched at this point and told him so. “I think I'm ready for the next size up..” 

“I was about to say, I think you’re ready for a bigger one.” He agrees and slips the plug out. He sets it off in another pile away from the unused ones and looks at his pile. 

He seems to be thinking for a long moment and MC pipes up. “Everything okay?

Garreth gave her a small smile. “Yeah! I was just thinking. It’s just… you’re doing so well. I was thinking of skipping the medium and going up to a larger one. Would you want to try?” 

“I will try. I feel very ready…” 

Garreth swallows thickly at her words. This was most definitely his biggest fantasy come to life. 

He gets the larger plug, saturates it in extra lube then presses it to her ass.

“We’re going slow, okay? Tell me the second anything hurts and I’ll stop.” He reassures her, touching her leg lovingly. 

“Understood.” She agrees. 

She takes the plug slowly. It stretches her deliciously and she clenches her eyes shut. Okay, now it was starting to feel good.

Garreth is breathless as her hole accepts the larger plug so readily. 

She notices him give his cock a few pumps while her hole stretches much farther than it ever has before. 

She whimpers as the plug gets to the largest part, breathing through the stretching with her hands digging into the bedsheets. 

Garreth bites her thigh, kissing along the skin up to her cheek. He bites her ass cheek and groans when her hole finally sucks in the last bit of the plug.

“Ah… Woah…” 

She feels a light smack to her ass, then another one as Garreth spanks her. He squeezes the flesh and leans in, kissing around the plug. 

She moans at all the sensations, rubbing her chest into the bed. 

His tongue runs all along the rim eagerly. He pulls at the plug and keeps licking and stretching her. 

“Garreth!” She moans breathlessly. Little tremors of pleasure skittling through her body from the epicenter of her backside. 

His tongue slides all around, his saliva lubing the plug even more. 

He pulls the plug out and pushes it back in, over and over while MC mewls and twitches below. 

When she easily takes the toy with no resistance, Garreth removes it and tosses it in the ‘used’ pile.

He spanks her again and grips her cheeks. 

“The next size up is my cock,” He breathes heavily. “Do you want that? Do you want me?” He spanks her ass again and groans. 

“Yes… I want you… Please,” She begs, looking back at him as he adds lube to his cock. 

He strokes himself and lines himself up. He then folds himself over her body, pressing his chest to her back, arms on either side of her face, caging her in. 

“I’m going to stay still, and I want you to push back into me at your own pace, okay? Can you do that for me?” He moves her hair to one side and plants sweet kisses along her shoulder. 

She nods eagerly and pushes her hips back. He adjusts himself so he’s perfectly angled at her asshole then cages her in again. “Slow, little witch.” He teases. 

She goes slow, moving back against the blunt tip of his cock. She feels it stretch her as she presses harder. 

“Mm, that's it. Take your time.” He encourages her.

She does, pressing slowly as moments pass. Finally, the thick head of his cock pops passed the tight ring of her ass and they both gasp. 

“Yes!” She takes a breather. “Oh… The stretch feels so good.” She whimpers. 

“Fuck…” He pants. “Yes… That's my girl.” He praises her, nipping at her shoulder with gentle bites.

Neither of them expected to get this far tonight. The training was supposed to be a build-up over the course of the weekend, but he’d made her feel so relaxed and took his time, her body acclimated very quickly. 

Garreth panted as MC started pressing back again, taking more of him. 

“Take my cock in your ass,” Garreth moaned, losing himself in the moment. He always got chatty when things heated up. “I’ll make you feel so good,” His lips trailed over her shoulder along the back of her neck. 

She trembles as she dares to take in more of him. Her knees quake as she slowly presses back for more. 

She moans louder and Garreth starts breathing heavier. His fists shake as he holds his body weight up so as to not crush her. 

“Take more, take more of me. Go slower if you need to. I won’t move.” He promised, breathing harshly into the back of her hair. 

The sensation of his cock sliding into her felt never-ending. 

“Oh… it feels so deep.” She catches her breath for a moment. 

“I’m not even halfway,” He kisses her neck and ear. “All the toys were short… just to help prepare you for penetration… Is this okay?” 

“Yes, Garreth! Gods….” She allows her body to acclimate for a moment more before pressing back again to take more of his cock inside her. 

His chest presses down on her back and she can see just how much he's stopping himself from thrusting all the way to the hilt.

They both groan the farther he’s in. Finally, fucking, finally his hips press directly against her skin. He was all the way buried inside her. 

“I need a minute,” Garreth drops his head into the crook of her shoulder, breathing deeply. 

“It feels… feels a bit violating.”  She lets out a small breathy laugh. 

Garreth inhales deeply “In a good way?” 

“Oh, yes.” She reassures him with a smile on her lips. 

“I’ve been wanting to “violate” you for a while now.” He lets out a breathy chuckle and so does she. 

She pushes back a bit, trying to encourage him to move.

“Ah, fuck…” He groans. 

“You’re so deep,” She moans, gripping the sheets. “I feel so full.” She adds quietly.

“Say that again, MC. Tell me again,” Garreth pleads, forehead pressing into the back of her head. 

“I feel so full, Garreth. You’re so big…” 

Garreth lets out a burst of air, tickling the skin on her neck. 

“Mm, and I’m going to keep filling you up, nice and deep, over and over again, little witch.” His voice is sinfully low. “Do you want that? Hm? Tell me,” 

“Yes! I want you to keep filling me up,” 

“Oh, gods…” He groans and adjusts his position minutely. “Ready for me to move?” He scrapes his teeth over a sensitive spot on her neck. 

“Yes… start moving a little bit,” She braces herself for the foreign feeling. 

“Let’s see how well you take me,” He whispers in her ear and kisses it before he gently moves. 

“Oh, gods!” She yanks on the blanket. 

He rocks his hips slowly, filling her to the brink before pulling out again. 

“You’re doing so well,” He rocks a bit faster when she doesn’t protest. 

She moans and sucks in breaths. “I’m going to fall apart, fuck…” 

“I’m just getting started,” He uncurls himself from her and sits on his knees between her legs. He lets out a moan at the sight of his cock in her ass and starts thrusting. 

The absence of his body heat makes the air in the room feel cold on her back. She shivers as she whimpers little cries of pleasure. “So full…” 

“Yes,” Garreth drives his cock home, again and again. “Your ass takes my cock so well,” A quiet ‘fuck’ falls from his lips. “I’m going to fill you up even more with my cum, my little witch. Do you want that? Want me to cum deep inside you?” 

“Yes! Oh, Garreth…” She pants as he goes faster, fucking her at his normal stride. 

Garreth’s hands grip her ass. He sits back and spreads her cheeks, watching himself fuck into her. “Ah… MC…” 

“That angle! Yes!” She desperately pleads.

“I never want this to stop,” He huffs as he fucks her at the angle she requested. “You like this angle? Is it pressing against all the right spots?” 

She found her center of gravity again and started pushing back into each of his thrusts. The angle he was hitting her made her feel all kinds of good things inside. 

“It is, Yes! Oh, don’t stop,” They find a matching rhythm and speed up together. 

He spanked one of her ass cheeks and squeezed the other one, gripping and pulling her with each thrust.

“This is better than my fantasy,” He let out a breathless chuckle. 

Her neglected pussy was slick with desire. Garreth reached around and rubbed her little clit. 

She was yelling out ‘yes’ and ‘more’ as he touched her intimately. 

He used his other hand to smack her ass again and then she was falling, flying, shaking under him. Her orgasm hit her like a bus. 

“Gods, that feels good,” Garreth commented on how her walls squeezed his cock as she came. 

As her orgasm ended, she started to squirm and whimper. He removed his finger and went back to chasing his own release. 

His hands dug into her ass, thrusting faster and faster. His knees dug into the bed and each thrust sent her body jolting forward. The pillow below her hips gets pushed and pulled, almost becoming useless. 

“AH!” Garreth moans louder the closer he gets. “I’m close,” He alerts her. 

“I want it!” She mewls into the bed. “Cum inside me, please” She begs him. 

“Fuck…” His hips studders. “Tell me again!” He demands as he huffs air. 

“I want your cum! Please, fill me up!” 

Garreth thrusts into her deep one last time and his cock throbs hard as his eyes clench shut. 

He curls back down on top of her against her back, keeping their bodies locked. His moans fill her ears as his body pulses with pleasure. 

His chest is much warmer now against her back, sticky from sweat, but oh so comforting. His familiar musk fills her nose and her whole body relaxes in his embrace.

“Just gonna…” Garreth kisses her neck lazily. “...stay inside you until I get hard again.” 

She laughed and Garreth cracked a smile. 

“I have a feeling you’re going to want to do this more often.” She spoke quietly between them, resting her cheek on the bed and looking up at him. 

“Oh, you bet,” He chuckled. “If you’re up for it.” 

They relaxed like that, catching their breath and having some pillow talk before Garreth’s body inevitably reset. 

.

.

.

Thanks for reading! ❤️-Ash

AN: I wasn’t sure what to call this. A fic? A HC? A drabble? A babble!? Regular fic writing has been making me feel too intimidated lately to do. I decided to write it like this. The story flowed easily and I really enjoyed it! Not sure if this will be a regular format going forward but I’m just happy I was finally able to write without feeling impending doom. lol

Masterlist in bio

ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ "ᴴᵒᵗ" ᵂᵉᵃˢˡᵉʸ ᵂᵉᵈⁿᵉˢᵈᵃʸ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵒᵗ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶠᶦᶜ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵐᵉ

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 12

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

“You really need to let me teach you how to swim,” Dr. Miller said upon guiding me back and forth several times across the pool until we waded side by side in the shallow end. “You never know when you might be in a situation when you'll need to.”

I nodded and teased, “How much for lessons?”

“I don't accept cash, or credit or debit.” A smile took over his face and he slicked his wet hair back with his hands.

“Well, there's got to be something.” I tried my best to be flirty, though it wasn't something that came natural to me in the way it did for my older, male counterpart.

Dr. Miller glanced over his shoulder toward the sauna. “Actually, there is.”

I followed his gaze and let him pull me by the hand toward the staircase that led out of the pool. Goosebumps decorated my shoulders and then traveled the length of my back as the air welcomed us back onto the tiled floor.

Dr. Miller strutted like a Greek God, and I engrained every little detail of his wet, naked body in my mind. With that thought, I knew I was putting him far too high on a pedestal, but I couldn’t help it. I knew I was becoming obsessed and I couldn’t reel it in.

He glanced over when he sensed me looking at him and I tried to look away. The smirk on his face gave away that I hadn’t done so swiftly enough. Dr. Miller continued to pull me by the hand until we reached the sauna. He reached for the handle and gently opened the pale, wooden door before extending an arm in to allow me inside a step ahead of him.

The heat, like the few times I’d been in a sauna at the gym, hit me like a wave; though after a swim it was a perfect contrast to my cool, damp skin. Not to mention, it felt extra good in the middle of winter. There was a bench straight ahead with a second row perched above it. The lighting was so dim I had to squint to make it out.

Dr. Miller edged past me and sat down on the bottom bench and stretched his arms across the upper part. Even in the darkness I could tell he was staring intently at me. My eyes seemed to adjust to the darkness faster than average, as if to access the object of my growing affection. Just looking at him sitting there was masturbation material - not that I did that that often. Dr. Miller’s bare feet were parted wide on the floor, and the way his legs were spread made his hard dick the focal point of his cut, saturated body.

He didn’t have to ask me to ‘come here’. I was like a moth to a flame, greeting him with a passionate kiss as my knee pressed into the bench between his legs. My hands caught his face and the force of my embrace forced him to lean back just slightly.

Dr. Miller adjusted my legs, putting my knees on the outsides of his hips on the bench. He moved me with such ease, like a clay mold that was his to play with. I felt him pressing at my entrance and his hips pushed upward. I met him halfway and lowered my body down, taking him all in. He let out a groan and his head dropped back with his arms still outstretched to either side.

I held onto his shoulders the same way I had in the pool, feeling the dampness leftover from the water as my hands slid against him each time I threw my hips forward. Breathing wasn’t easy. It was dry and hot, turning the leftover pool droplets into sweat that coated our bodies.

“My God..” He whispered the words and I hugged my body against his, grasping the back of his head and grabbing a fistful of wet hair as his face aligned with my breasts.

Dr. Miller took a nipple between his teeth before sucking the area to soothe the sensitive skin. Watching him latched on and in the moment with his eyes closed sent an electric current down my body. I moaned aloud and felt his hands finally blanket around me, holding me tight as I rocked on top of him.

“Let it out,” he whispered in my ear as his teeth gripped my earlobe now, before trailing the length of my neck and back up.

“Fuck,” I mewled his name like a kitten in heat on a tiger, “Joel.”

He grunted and my eyes practically rolled back in my head when he thrusted hard up into me. “Call me Dr. Miller,” he begged, grabbing my face roughly before kissing me even rougher. He moaned and grunted, holding my sweaty body tighter against his.

That did something to me. His demand to call him Dr. Miller. Fuck, that felt right. It made every facet of my body feel hot.

Our lips parted with a loud smacking sound. “Dr. Miller,” I choked out, feeling one of his hands squeeze my hip, leaving a sting beneath his fingertips.

“Mmm..” Our lips grazed against one another’s, colliding each time I rose and fell as I rode him. Dr. Miller gripped me hard around the back of my neck and pressed his forehead against mine. He breathed heavily, moving his other hand to my left side of my ass.

The heat from the sauna added to my arousal. I was wet head to toe. Dr. Miller was wet head to toe. It was getting hard to breathe, I felt like I was spinning and high.

“Dr. Miller..” I moaned his name again, allowing him to clutch me tighter, harder. He pushed up into me, moaning my name right back until he sounded as desperate as I did. “Fuuuck.”

“Cum,” he urged, groaning as I moved faster on top of him. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl.”

Oh.. my.. God..

“Fuck..” I clawed at his back and gripped his hair, feeling an eruption of pleasure in my lower half as my thighs shook and tightened against him. I cursed again and my body trembled as my orgasm paralyzed every single part of me.

I felt him finish at the same time. It was primal, erratic and rough. Dr. Miller held me so hard I thought I might break. But it added to the waves of pleasure that left my womanhood in a sea of contractions that pulsed against him as he continued to thrust up into me from below.

He didn’t let go as he panted for a deep breath that never came. His hands slid down my sweaty back. I closed my eyes as Dr. Miller’s limp lips attempted to kiss against my collar bone. My head fell back as I glanced up weerily at the ceiling.

“You’re so fucking amazing,” Dr. Miller whispered. He bit my neck and pulled me back to him, guiding my lips to his for another sloppy, drawn out kiss. I felt drunk. Love drunk.

“I never want to leave here,” I whispered back, aching for another kiss.

“Mmm..” He slid a hand up and down my back and continued to pepper everywhere he could reach with kisses and little nips of his teeth. “We should get out of here.” Dr. Miller pecked my lips again and I felt my hair stick to my forehead as he tried to brush it back, “You need water.”

“You need water,” I said with an attempt at a chuckle.

“I need water,” he agreed. Without warning he pulled me back in for another kiss. It was heated and needy and left us both even more breathless.

“Do I have to get off you?” I managed a little smile, studying his sweaty features as I began to slick back his already slicked hair.

Dr. MIller smiled wickedly, but his voice was still desperate. “Let me get you hydrated.. and then you can ride my dick in every room of this house if you want to.”

I breathed heavily and could see my chest heaving up and down. My eyes closed when Dr. Miller tended to the center of my breasts again. Despite just having an orgasm that I hadn’t quite recovered from, I still wanted him.

My little moan must've snapped him back to reality because he stopped and lazily looked up at me from where he sat. Dr. Miller pecked my lips now and rose to his feet, picking me up as he stood. At the same time I felt his dick leave my body and I swallowed hard.

“How many rooms are there in this house?” I half-joked, longing to be reconnected to him. The obsession was real, and I was beginning to see how two-sided it was.

“Enough to tackle over the course of a weekend.” Dr. Miller shoved the door open and pulled me with him. I could breathe again. The fresh air felt cold in comparison to the thick, dry air of the sauna. I sucked in a deep breath and turned to him.

“Holy shit.”

“I know,” he said, “It’s intense in there.” Dr. Miller eyed the pool as we began to walk together, “You really need to let me teach you to swim over the next few weeks,” he demanded, “Or months.” Our eyes locked and I nodded.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it.” He could tell I was being casual and there was a part of him, even if it was a small part, that was annoyed by how nonchalant my response was. I just didn’t see as much importance to it like Dr. Miller did.

“I want to,” I told him honestly. The thought of being in the pool, face-to-face with him again sounded amazing, to say the least.

“Okay.” Dr. Miller touched my face and I kissed him on the lips. “Now, can I get you some water?”

I laughed lightly, “Yes.”

“Stairs or elevator?”

I thought about the moment in the pool. How my life was in his hands. How he took care of me. I engrained every single millisecond of our intimate encounter in the sauna. There was no way I wasn’t trusting this man - not to mention I knew that meant that I would have the ride up to the main floor with my body pressed up against his for a few extra seconds.

I smiled wide. “Elevator.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17

[chvoswxtch]

Hi Court! I’ve had a thought/thot regarding Frank catching his neighbor’s husband cheating, he confronts her with the news, and their own romance blossoms. “Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife. And she looks so pretty driving in your Benz.”Please if you can/want to make this a Midnights Vault Track. 🌃✨

OH I LOVE THIS

I put a little spin on the "she looks so pretty driving in your benz", but I don't think you'll mind ;)

as a reminder, from the vault means it's spicy! (minors dni)

blurb below the cut

vigilante shit (frank's version) (from the vault)*

picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

Deep down, Frank knew he shouldn’t have gotten involved. It wasn’t his business. He had enough lingering problems of his own nipping at his heels, he didn’t need to get involved in someone else's.

But you were so goddamn sweet to him. You had brought him a container of homemade chocolate chip cookies when he first moved in next door, all bright eyes and soft smiles, introducing yourself with the most angelic voice he had ever heard. You knew he lived alone, so you silently dropped leftovers off on his porch some nights when your husband was out of town or working late, which he often did, with the guise that you didn’t know how to cook for one person and didn’t want the food going to waste.

You went all out for the holidays to entertain the neighborhood kids, and even after coming home from a long day with the exhaustion clearly tainting your kind face, you made time to play with them in the front yard for awhile, or offer help with their homework.

Frank thought you were an actual angel, which is why the first time he caught your husband cheating on you, he nearly unleashed the vengeful side of himself that lusted for the blood of the wicked. He thought you would eventually catch him considering the asshole wasn’t exactly stealthy about it. The whole neighborhood seemed to know about his multitude of affairs…everyone except you. Finally, Frank reached a breaking point. He couldn’t listen to the hushed whispers that haunted you about the infidelity taking place in your own home. 

One night when your husband was away, Frank marched over to your front door and told you the truth everyone else had been keeping from you. He gave you a folder full of photos that he had taken, tangible evidence of your husband’s unfaithful escapades. It broke his heart to see the streams of betrayal that slipped down your cheeks, and he hated that he had to be the one to do it, but he knew it was for your own good. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. You deserved to be loved and worshiped…to be placed on the highest pedestal in someone’s heart.

In the end, Frank was glad he got involved.

Because if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be fucking you in the back of your ex-husband’s Mercedes that you got in the divorce.

Frank’s large hand slid up your neck to wrap his thick fingers around it loosely, his index finger resting along the edge of your jaw and his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your dress was hiked all the way up to your waist, and his jeans were pushed just far enough down his thighs to free his cock, all plans of your romantic dinner date completely forgotten. He stared down at you almost in awe as he fucked you slowly, but deeply, making sure to hit that delectable spot deep within you that drove you wild. A crooked grin stretched across his mouth hearing how good his name sounded falling from your parted lips.

“Look so pretty, baby. So fuckin’ pretty.”

[trashquisitor-shirozora]

*enables you* what happened with TLJ 👃

After all these years I still can't properly find words to explain how deeply betrayed I felt after the credits rolled and I shuffled out of the movie theater with everybody else. There was a TON of hype surrounding this movie, an absolute fuckton. I only saw positive reviews about it, the cast, the director, the plot. I got excited to see where Rian Johnson & Co. would take the ST.

The only remotely negative comment I saw before watching the movie was a fandom blog saying they didn't like what happened to Poe. Since this blog was about racism in fandom, I knew something was off. That was my only warning.

And y'know, it was like, five minutes in? Ten minutes? And Poe makes a "Yo mama" joke at Hux? I used to go into movies with an open mind and spent days gathering my thoughts about them because I was always slow to react, slow to gather my thoughts into coherent strings of words. It's how I enjoyed Michael Bay productions and JJ Abrams' love affair with lens flare. I never got actively angry with a movie I was watching, and I was fucking angry by the time the movie ended. I still remember texting a friend while standing out in front of the theater because I was so confused. The response to TLJ was so positive so why did I come out of the movie so frustrated and confused and dissatisfied with the whole thing?

It's been years and we all know how this movie divided the Star Wars fandom and just... broke Fandom Spaces in a way I never expected. We all know what TLJ did and didn't do, and how TROS provided the final nail in the coffin that was the ST experiment. But back then, all I saw was positive commentary about the themes and messages of TLJ, how it portrayed failure and the dangers of putting someone like Luke Skywalker on a pedestal, how the Force was female, how... important it was to see Poe get characterized as a hotheaded hotshot who needed to be demoted, slapped around, and stunned in order to learn some kind of lesson, how important it was to see Finn lose everything he gained in TFA so that he could relearn how not to be selfish or something while starring in a fucking incredibly tone-deaf B plot, how Rey... I'm not sure exactly what because she didn't need training anyway and then spent most of her time trying to bring Ben Swolo back to the light????? Rose was so promising as someone who grew up under the FO's thumb but she and Kelly were fucking abandoned by Disney so I don't know if Rose existing was actually a good idea if it meant giving Kelly unending trauma. Mark slipped up by calling Luke "Jake" and expressing his displeasure in front of cameras, and I was so fucking baffled and alienated by his character after knowing how his story ended in ROTJ that I couldn't connect with whatever lessons I and he are supposed to be learning. JJ set up Snoke like a mystery box and Rian just yeeted him off without so much as a fucking explanation so what was the point of that? Hux was a fucking joke. Phasma was barely there. The only character that Rian cared about was fucking Kylo Ren and Adam says years later that he was never supposed to get a redemption arc anyway.

Like, this was the movie everyone hyped up? This was the movie that didn't answer any questions left unasked by TFA and didn't bother to move forward with character development for any of the known characters? I spent money watching a slow space chase that ended on a planet made of salt and killed off Luke for Reasons? Am I stupid? Am I dumb? Am I a peasant incapable of understanding the masterpiece Rian directed, this so-called Best Star Wars Movie Since ESB?

But I couldn't say anything. I couldn't be dogpiled for hating such a empowering movie for women, a diverse and inclusive movie that had the likes of John and Kelly and Oscar. I couldn't be lumped in with the Star Wars dudebros with their raging misogynistic and racist takes on the movie, the cast, Kathleen Kennedy and Lucasfilm, Disney, etc. I couldn't be seen as one of them just because I didn't like a movie that I should like, I'm supposed to like. So I sat in silence, read meta, witnessed the fucking catastrophic explosion around some wild ass AO3 fandom essays written by a racist OG member of OTW about Finn/Poe, saw hate piled on black and bipoc fans, saw r*ylo fans come for John and John clap back at them, just saw an absolute fuckton of hate, and so by the time TROS came around I just... checked out. There was no way JJ could salvage what Rian had done and I was right. TROS was a corporate-run soulless garbage end to the Sequel Trilogy, but it ended just as The Mandalorian finished its first season and regained a lot of good will with this small story about a lonely Mandalorian bounty hunter who encountered a Force-sensitive Baby Yoda.

And then TBOBF/Season 3 of the Mando Show happened, just like how TLJ happened. All the promise, all the unanswered questions of the previous movie/season, all fucking dropped or provided with the worst, most unsatisfying answer. I'm sure others have found better answers and can live with what Star Wars gave us, but I haven't been able to. TLJ came out years and years ago, and I am still so bitter today. I'm still so bitter because TFA had such an incredibly compelling setup with such promising characters, and then TLJ Did That.

I got so heated while writing this. I'm still so mad. I'm still so bitter. I bury my head so deep in the sandbox I built for myself so that I don't have to think how Disney is twisting and contorting all these Mando'verse shows so that they all eventually lead to the ST, their precious hot potato child that just... didn't have to end the way they did if they actually had a fucking plan and fucking stuck the landing. I'll give the MCU this - their Phase 1? They fucking stuck the landing. I fell off the train tracks and haven't really watched the MCU since Captain Marvel, but at least they had a fucking plan and didn't fucking derail themselves like Disney did with the Sequel Trilogy.

I could be nice to people who like this movie but I'm not going to be. They can be nice on their own blogs.

Man, I can't even watch Knives Out or Glass Onion because my blood starts boiling. Just. TLJ did a lot to ruin what I hoped would be a positive and creative connection with Star Wars, and it took the Mando Show and the 2 minutes where Din and Luke locked eyes on the Imperial light cruiser to bring me back.

I'm gonna stop before I get way too heated for sleep.

[divine-knight-hand]

Worshiping the Masterpiece

Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Summary: Loki’s lover finally gains the courage to ask him about his Jotun form. When he lets her see it, she takes the moment as an opportunity to help him do a little confidence building… by kissing… and touching… and praising…

Content Warnings: Sub!Loki (but hints of him being a switch), Soft Dom!Reader, themes of insecurity, [heavy appreciation of] Loki in his Jotun form, handjob in front of a mirror, lots of praise, no oral (but just a little taste of cum!), and explicit consent

Notes: (Prepare for lengthy notes with mushy sentiments! Hehehe!)

Happy birthday, @sarahscribbles!!! I’m still pretty new-ish to this whole tumblr-fanfic-writer thing, and I ended up gravitating to her as one of the blogs I look up to the most (specifically in terms of Loki content). So, happy, happy, happy birthday, Sarah! Remember that your community loves you very much. May you get lots of presents, cake, and Loki love~

This piece was written as a contribution to her Birthday Celebration. I originally started writing using some of the prompts from the original post, but I soon lost motivation, only to remember that I had this idea on repeat in my mind sooooo long ago, and it resurfaced just in time for me to finally put it to paper. So, I didn’t end up using any of the prompts, after all. Maybe someday I’ll finish what I originally started for this challenge and post it anyways. Maybe…

All in all, it was kind of refreshing to be able to write a fic about Loki. I don't really write about him as much as I would like to, so this writing event gave me the perfect motivation to just jump right in. So, without further ado, here we go!

Word Count: 3,547

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Absolutely not.” Loki’s eyebrows furrowed at my daring request. “I refuse to burden you with that monstrous visage.”

Loki’s response to me asking to view his Jotun form again was that of pure terror. He sat next to me on our shared bed, eyes frantically avoiding mine. He seemed a lot more timid than his usual confident disposition allowed. His hands were folded over his lap, fidgeting out of obvious discomfort at the idea of me seeing him resemble a frost giant.

The first time I saw Loki in his Jotun form, it was an accident. He was taking me on a tour of the castle vault, and all was well until I was left to my own devices. I wandered around the vault, admiring the architecture, as well as the artifacts, when I found myself walking backwards into the stand that held the Casket of Ancient Winters atop it. Loki happened to be in perfect range to step in and catch it as I knocked it off its pedestal, at the cost of revealing his birth form.

Amidst the chaos his panic created, he didn’t notice me watching the way his skin changed, or admiring the raised marks that accompanied its cerulean hue. I knew Loki was born on Jotunheim–and I knew of all the trials and tribulations this fact created throughout his childhood–but I’d never even heard Loki so much as mention the possibility of having another form connected to his Jotun roots. This was new to me. He replaced the Casket and rushed out of the vault before I could even form the words to tell him how beautiful he looked. How odd…

Since that day, I was determined to see him change again. It was like an obsession to me, the way it was constantly on my mind. I had to see Loki’s Jotun form again. I just had to. Now that I’d seen it once, I knew there was a part of him that I wasn’t experiencing all this time. I felt that I was missing out on sharing something important with my lover, and that didn’t sit well with me.

There were times I tried to hint at it subtly, only to get confused and alarmed looks from him in return. I should have expected him to catch on. Nothing flies over the head of the God of Mischief. There wasn’t any point to beating around the bush anymore. I decided to finally outright ask him to change forms, and this was the exact reaction I feared.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.” I asserted. “Nothing about you is monstrous. Nothing. Do you honestly think that I could love a monster?” Before he even had the chance to sarcastically respond to my rhetorical question, I beat him to it. “No, because I don’t.” I reached over and grabbed his hands in mine. “I love you, and I want to experience every part of you. Every single one. Because, I want to be able to love every single part of you.”

I could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he began to consider the idea. “I don’t believe you understand the true nature of my birth form.”

“Then show me.” I insisted. “Teach me everything I don’t know about you. Please… I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide from me.”

“You will regret this, love.” With a defeated sigh, Loki conceded.

He made sure to remove my hands from his before the familiar green flash of his seidr marked his transformation. My breath hitched at the sight of all the changes to his appearance.

His skin turned an icy blue, and his face sported markings in the form of raised lines. His eyes, formerly a similar blue, now watched me intently with a ruby red, awaiting my response.

“Loki,” I breathed, my heart swelling with the joy of finally being able to see him like this again. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

He quickly looked away, ashamed. “As sweet as your lies sing to me, please don’t.”

“I would never lie to you.” I leaned in and slowly reached out my hand.

He flinched at first, but allowed me to cup his face, the chill of his skin cooling my hand. “How do you not hate this?”

“I’ve said, already,” I smirked at him. “I love you, and if this is you—which I know it is—then I love this, too.”

“But, I’m a monster…” Loki’s eyes began to glass over with tears, but none dared to spill over his cheeks.

“No, you’re not.” I leaned in until I could feel the chill radiating off of his face against my own. “You were only told that for far too long.”

“It’s all I’ve ever known.” He sadly confessed.

My heart shattered for him. It wasn’t fair that he had to face horrible treatment just because of where he came from. Growing up, he was constantly dehumanized by his own father. Politics didn’t exactly allow Asgardians to empathize with Jotuns. Loki didn’t have a clue as to why he was treated so poorly his whole life until his adult years. No wonder he hid himself for so long. He didn’t deserve to live like that. Not at all. I was determined to make sure he would never experience that kind of pain again.

“That’s awful.” I frowned. “I promise you that I’ll make you feel loved, no matter what you look like.” I leaned in and pecked the tip of his nose. “I guarantee it.”

I brought my other hand up to cup the other side of his face before pulling him into a kiss. I felt him tense up for a moment, but a sudden chill on my back accompanied the motion of him wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer to him.

When he deepened the kiss, it was colder than I expected it to be. Every point of contact I had with him sent a chill into my body, but I wasn’t cold. It was a comfortable chill. It was authentically Loki, and I wanted to explore this as far as I could go.

He pulled me onto him in a straddling position, our bodies crashing together as my hands wandered along the leather covering his back. I wanted to feel all of him. Since he swapped forms, it was like I fell in love all over again, and I was once again kissing him for the first time.

I was ravenous, wanting to touch as much of Loki as I could get my hands on, but I was also careful, fearing what could make him uncomfortable. My worries were put to rest when I felt a light twitch underneath me, and my own ache to have him began to build within me.

As we pulled apart, I left my hands cupped around his face, slowly tracing his markings with my thumbs. He’s just so beautiful~

“My desire for you could drive me to madness, darling.” He breathed, a smile ghosting his lips. “I do hope you’re aware.”

“I am.” I softly giggled.

“That being said, I have to have you, my dear.” His voice deepened to a growl. “Just give me a moment to return to my usual appearance.”

“Wait!” I interjected. “Why can’t I take you like this?”

“Are you off your rocker?!” Loki fired back, terror creeping back into his eyes.

“Maybe I am,” I retorted, “But I know that I want you like this, and you can’t change my mind on that.”

He just stared at me in utter shock, unmoving and unspeaking.

As the silence hung between us, an idea slowly crept into my mind. “There’s actually something I’d like to try, if you don’t mind.”

Loki let out a deep sigh, the shock in his expression lessening.“If you’re absolutely sure you want this, then I’ll be at your mercy. But, the moment something happens to you-”

“It won’t.” I cut in. “Because I know you won’t let anything happen to me.”

Loki frowned in disbelief, muttering, “Your optimism is dangerous.”

I stood up off of the bed, beckoning for him to follow me. “First, I want to see all of you. Would you mind stripping?”

“As you wish.” Loki lowered his head, his seidr removing his clothes with a flash.

I let out a soft gasp out of awe at the view. The icy hue continued from his head to his toes, as did the raised markings in his skin. They decorated his shoulders, chest, legs, and even his-

I felt arousal begin to pool between my thighs at the sight of his ornate length. “Loki…”

He looked back up at me, clearly anxious for my response. “Is this what you wanted?”

I quickly approached him and cupped his face in my hands, kissing him again. “It’s everything and more.” Loki’s cheeks blushed a light purple as I took him by the hand and led him across the bedroom to stand in front of a full-length mirror. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you with everything I have, just as I’ve always done.” He responded, and I just knew he was being genuine. I could almost feel it emanating from his words.

“Kneel, my love.” I softly commanded.

Loki knelt in front me, exactly where I placed him. I smiled warmly down at him, stroking his cheek before moving to sit right behind him, looking over his shoulder at the mirror.

I looked over his reflection, my eyes lingering at how he instinctively spread his thighs as he sat on his heels, allowing his semi-erect cock to hang in the middle of the sinful display. He was almost ready, and fully accessible to me. I felt my ache for him thrumming between my thighs, but I quickly refocused on my mission when I noticed that he refused to meet his reflection’s gaze, instead looking away from me and the mirror entirely.

“Look, Loki.” I lightly coaxed his face back towards the mirror by his chin. “Look at how beautiful you really are.” I dropped my other hand near his inner thigh. “May I?”

“Please,” I could see eagerness flash in his eyes as he glanced at my reflection before looking back at his own.

I began to lightly rub along his thigh, my heart fluttering at his resulting shiver. “I want you to see how perfect you are as you’re overcome with pleasure.” His eyes fluttered closed as he shivered again, and I paused my motions. “Watch.” I reminded him.

His eyes flew open at my command. “Yes, of course.”

“Yes, what?” I felt a proud smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

“Yes, mistress.” He corrected himself.

“There’s my sweet prince.” I sighed my praise as I resumed my motion on his thigh, noticing the twitch of his cock at my words. I began kissing him messily along his neck as my hand continued to tease him. When I brought my free hand up to trace the marks on his chest, I noticed the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away.

“M- Mistress, please…” He let out a low moan. “Please, I need more…” A bead of precum gathered at the tip of his fully grown erection, which now began to shine with a deep blush of purple, similar to that of his cheeks.

I moved from his neck to whisper in his ear, “If you want it, then you’ll have it.” I stroked his face with my free hand. “A work of art like you deserves to be worshiped and praised.” I lightly nipped his ear. “And I’ve been blessed with the privilege to make sure that you are. Now, sit tight, my prince.”

I rose to my feet and moved, swift as the wind, to our dresser for lubricant to cover my hand with before returning to my original place with Loki in front of the mirror. “Tonight, I plan on fucking you with my hand, leaving your whole body on display for the both of us. I want you to see that you are no monster. You’re a masterpiece, and deserve to be treated as such.” I gave his shoulder a light squeeze with my free hand. “If you wish to stop at any time, you can always use our safe word. You remember it, don’t you?”

“I do.” His words were just above a whisper.

“Very good.” I kissed him on the cheek. “Then let’s begin.” I started to slowly stroke his cock with my lubricated hand, earning another shudder, accompanied by a contented sigh, from him. “I just have one rule for you…” Loki turned his head to look at me with curiosity before I softly turned it back to the mirror with my free hand. “You have to watch the whole time.”

“Ah- Mmm…” He let out a clipped moan before responding. “Yes, mistress.”

“Very good.” I slowly stroked all the way from the base of his cock to the tip before swirling my thumb in small circles on the head and stroking back to the base. Each time I teased the head, a small growl emanated from the back of his throat, only to crescendo into another moan when I stroked back down to the base.

I felt each of his markings against my hand with every stroke, and I wondered for a moment how they would feel against my inner walls. I felt arousal thrumming between my thighs again. Focus, damnit!

But, focusing was difficult. No matter how I looked at Loki, my eyes always returned to his elaborately decorated cock. It was as if I walked into an opulent dining room, only to end up staring at the shiny centerpiece all throughout dinner. It was the center of attention in an already artistic scene. I struggled to find the perfect words to convey these thoughts, so I kept my praise simple.

“You have such a pretty cock~” My words were a sultry whisper against his skin, accompanied by the kisses that I peppered along his jaw. “I can’t wait to pleasure it in every way I know how. Would you like that, my prince?”

“Y- Mmm… Yes, mistress.” Loki struggled to respond between moans.

“I would like that, too.” I peeked up at the mirror to make sure that he was still looking. He was. How obedient~

Not only was I filled with the pride of seeing him willing to do as he was told, but I also noticed the way his chest moved with each heavy breath he took, which it typically did when I dominated him. His breathing would grow labored as I teased him before he finally found the words—or word fragments—to beg me for more.

His hair also didn’t change. It tumbled down his angular face in its usual raven locks, the smallest of curls lying slick against his forehead as a sheen of sweat glued them there.

And just under it were his eyes. Though they shone a bright red, his pupils were blown wide with lust, leaving a sliver of red around the edges. Save for their usual blue color, his eyes looked exactly the same as they usually did. It was comforting to see that even though he changed, there were familiar parts of him to remind me that he was still my Loki.

Although, change is nice~ I thought as I allowed my free hand to roam his chest again, tracing the markings until I approached his hips. I reached down and began to fondle his balls, still keeping pace on his cock with my lubricated hand. His eyes were lidded as he quickly neared an ecstasy-born stupor. He used one of his hands to steady himself on the ground as the other wound into his hair, ruffling it with each pass he made with his fingers.

“Yes, I would love to please you.” I continued my earlier thought. “To worship you like the god you are. You deserve that. You deserve to have someone willing to offer you their service. Even as your mistress, I wish to satisfy you.” I sped up the pace of my hand on his cock, and a whimper escaped his throat. “You look so regal, my love. Do you see it? Do you see how, even as you sit bare in front of me, you still look elegant enough to sit upon the Asgardian throne?”

“N- no, mistress…” Loki’s voice cracked as he let out another moan.

“Hm. That’s unfortunate.” I mused. “Maybe someday I should suck you off as you’re seated upon it. I’m sure that would help you see what I see.”

Loki bucked his hips into my hand. “M- mistress…” His voice curled into a light sound that almost resembled a whimper. “Feels good… Feels so- Mmm… good…”

“It’s about time you felt something other than pain while showing this part of who you are.” I trailed kissed back up his neck to his ear before whispering, “You’re still watching?” I glanced at the mirror to see him still looking, just as I’d asked him to. “That’s my sweet prince. I’m so glad you’re heeding my directions tonight. This is all for you, after all.”

“Yes, mistress.” Loki gritted his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure before they shot back open as he remembered my command. “M- Mistress…?”

“Yes, my love?” I felt a small surge of concern rush through me. “Is something wrong?”

The soft whine he let out clued me in to what was happening before he even responded. “I- I’m close… Mmm- May I cum? …Please?” His last plea was no more than a breathy whisper. He needed this. Desperately. And who would I be to deprive him of it?

“Cum for me, my prince.” I purred. “You’ve been so good tonight. You deserve to. Come on, show me how your pretty cock looks when it’s dripping with cum.”

“Ohhh, mistress… Ah-” Loki practically screamed my name as his eyes rolled back, ropes of cum painting his thigh in a milky white.

I helped him ride out his high as his cock twitched in my hand, spilling his seed. Every time I thought he’d finished, he’d release what seemed to be another load with a roaring moan and a full-body shiver. I just kept stroking his cock while softly kissing along his neck and praising him until the last of it slowly dripped out over my fingers and he was left panting.

“That’s it, my prince.” I sighed against his neck. “You were so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” I finally let go of his cock and brought my hand to my mouth to slowly lick the cum off of my fingers. “Mmm, and you taste so good~”

“Mmm, darling,” Loki’s voice wavered as he took on a cautionary tone. “If you carry on like that, I just might grow hard again.”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to take care of you again.” I playfully walked my now clean fingers up his shoulder. “And again… and again… and again…”

“I like the sound of that.” He chuckled softly as our eyes moved back to the mirror in front of us.

I looked him over again, my eyes lingering over each part of him, almost as if my brain could take a snapshot his beauty. His hair was thoroughly ruffled, sweat shone on each curve of his skin, and his cock hung limply between his thighs once again, having spent its cum onto one of them. I watched as it began to slide down his thigh, following the raised markings before nearing the floor.

“You truly admire this, don’t you?” Loki’s question interrupted my thoughts.

“I do.” I answered without hesitation. “And I won’t be satisfied until you do, too.”

“You stubborn woman.” Loki lightly chuckled. “I will say, if this is the treatment my Jotun form entitles me to, then maybe it’s a sight I could get used to.”

I couldn’t keep back the cheesy grin my mouth curved into. “I’ll take it.” I crawled around him to sit between him and the mirror, holding my hands out to him.

He smirked and took my hands in his. “I feel compelled to thank you.”

I cocked my head in curiosity. “Hm? What for?”

He leaned closer to me, and I leaned in to meet him in the middle, electricity crackling in the air between us. “For loving the ugliest parts of me, and cherishing the things that I’ve only ever frowned upon.”

“Oh, Loki,” I squeezed his hand. “You take yourself too seriously. As soon as you stop criticizing yourself, I know you’ll lead a happier life.” I brought the same hand up to my lips to brush a soft kiss onto it. “Now, come on. You must be tired. Let me clean you up, and then we can cuddle for the rest of the night.”

“Of course.” Loki’s eyes conveyed a sweet sense of innocence… It was too sweet. He must have had other plans.

My suspicions were confirmed when he leaned in towards my ear and whispered. “Though, I believe I still have some dues to pay before we carry on with our night. Don’t you?”

I felt my ache for him quickly returning all at once. “Oh, you-”

Before I could finish my teasing remark, Loki had me trapped in another kiss.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

i can't think of a creative title

👽 for finding later because look at him he's a little alien :D

so anyway i (15F) had this girlfriend (16F) a little bit ago. we honestly didn't do much together, even though we're both in high school. never went on a proper date and we never even kissed.

whenever i would try to set up a date or anything, she'd kinda be like "ok." and then never follow up and i wouldn't wanna do it because i have really bad self esteem issues and i didn't want her to stop liking me because i was being too clingy or anything.

we were texting like normal one day and she just sent me this text where she was like "i'm literally so selfish lmaooo i already knew i was gonna break up with you by the end of the school year but here i am still dating you and wanting to kiss you 🤪" and i just stopped texting her right there because. because what? she was literally planning to break up with me and she knew what day she was going to do it and everything? then what was the point of even getting together with me? because she knew i really liked her and still did that.

anyway, we agreed to talk during our free period/study hall at school the day after. i had totally freaked myself out and i was completely prepared to just go and apologize over and over again, even if she was in the wrong, but when i met her, she immediately started talking about how i put her on too much of a pedestal and how my self esteem was too low and how i have a tendency to say "im gonna fucking kill myself" (not in like a serious way or anything but it just became a thing i'd say sometimes, we both knew that i wasn't being serious about hurting myself but i see why that would make her uncomfortable and it's actually a habit i've been trying to stop) and these are actually all pretty valid concerns. i did have a little bit of a tendency to put her on a pedestal because of my previously mentioned terrible self esteem. so we broke up.

but then a little recently, a friend, who i'll call miku texts me and she's talking about how my ex, i'll call her uh... rin? anyway, rin texts miku and rin allegedly said that she thinks that she's more mature than all of our friend group ( we mainly have the same friend group, me and rin are still friends) and miku tells me that (also allegedly) miku wasn't really all that affected at all when we broke up or even when i randomly stopped texting her after that text. so. idk. was i the asshole? i feel bad about ghosting her, that was kinda toxic and abusive and definitely something i shouldn't have done, but it freaked me out.

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Thirty

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Hey, y'all! Happy New Year! I am giving another big thank you to everyone who moved on to 2024 with me. I never thought I would have this much recognition for a story if I'm honest. I can't comprehend how many people like something that I put so much effort and time into. It's honestly so wild, and I can't thank y'all enough. <3

Chapter Warnings: Larys Strong AGAIN, sexual humiliation, a lot of misogyny. 

The discussion with Queen Alicent hung heavily and close to your heart, yet you held firm even when Aegon badgered you with questions about what she said, following you everywhere in the Keep like a pesky fly on a summer day. It was not right for you to divulge the information of private conversations; you wouldn't want someone to do that with yours, but as you thought on the subject in the following days and the eldest son's persistence, you let one thing slip.

"All right, Aegon, just be quiet!" you groaned with exasperation as he sat straight like a pup being scolded.

At first, you regretted telling him of Alicent's orders for you to leave King's Landing, though you realized it was more advantageous to do so. It furthered the divide between Mother and son, adding a sprinkle of animosity in your favor. After the discussion with Ma, it was necessary to ensure she still agreed to help prevent the Prince from becoming king.

Talking with her helped chisel the heavy rock lodged in your stomach since Aegon came floating into your chambers with jests of ruling the kingdom. Madam's network of spies ranged far across King's Landing but had yet to surpass that of the Master of Whispers. She assured you that even though Lord Strong had many, he did not have those that mattered.

You had to put trust in someone who was not yourself, and that was something that never ceased to cause the rock to mineralize again.

***

The crimson leaves of the Heart Tree swayed in the winter breeze, its bone-colored bark reflecting the cold temperature. You pulled your cloak together, a rather elaborate thing of golden furs and embroidered satin.

You would not have chosen it for yourself, but Aegon insisted on purchasing it while you visited the Street of Loom. And once the tailor noted two finely dressed individuals, one with silver hair, buying a matching gown was simply a must.

The merchant pitched the garment much higher than you saw his other items and fellow workers. You planned on letting the Prince use his coin any way he wanted for your trip, but that was something you could not let him do.

The Loom merchant resisted your haggling, his expression one of offense for thinking he would ever overcharge a crowned Prince, but you knew better. As a girl, it was your job to purchase supplies and food for the working women, and with golden dragons far and few, you managed to afford enough to survive. Or, well... steal.

By the end, you left the swindling tailor with a new fur cloak and a dress to pair, an intricate solid gold belt with asscher cut diamonds thrown in for the trouble.

You felt proud of yourself for securing such a bargain. Your inner child who sought the approval of those you admired was fulfilled. Even though the gown matched the elaborateness of the coat, something you would not choose if, in your wardrobe, you wore it with confidence, your chin high and shoulders rolled back.

Aegon made you feel these emotions, you thought as you listened to the whispers of bloody leaves above. He helped you grow and blossom in ways your Father or Mother could never. He lifted you onto the pedestal you deserved. You were not the bastard daughter of Daemon Targaryen to him; you were everything.

You were his friend, lover, the only person who understood him, listened, comforted, and dried his tears when no one else cared. You deserved to have someone who treated you the same, gave you the acceptance and validation you craved, someone who did not see you as an extension of themselves to do their bidding. Aegon gave that to you, a perfect equal of give and receive to one another, a match made of love and not politics.

And his love was peaceful. It was calm. It kept you warmer than the coat the Prince bought you, even as the winter air swept through your neatly plaited locks.

"Princess," a masculine voice called, the sound softer than the whisper of mist surrounding you in the early morning.

It was so quiet you hadn't a clue who it was, turning with a polite smile and your arms neatly tucked behind your back. You wished you hadn't acknowledged the man as Lord Larys Strong stood before you, hunched over his finely crafted firefly cane, curly hair loose at his ears.

The sigh you released at his presence was hardly proper, squaring your shoulders as you spoke with all Courtly people. "Lord Strong... What a surprise. How may I be of assistance?"

The man snickered, bowing his head as he waited for you to take a step closer as was deemed polite. When you did not move, your amiable expression never leaving, he grinned, finally speaking again.

"Yes, Princess, a pleasure. I was hoping to speak to you on matters of the Prince," he expressed.

All the color drained from your face.

"The Queen has brought it to my attention that, perhaps, you are spending too much of your time with the Prince. She believes that it mayhaps be better spent else where."

The flame of hatred for Larys Strong was reignited with a sudden burst; your jaw clenched as your eyes became slits.

"I believe what you speak is untrue. The Queen and I have come to a..." you paused, unable to find the correct way to express the secret Alicent unwillingly divulged, "certain understanding. We've discussed her concerns and come to an agreement. You've no need to worry yourself on her behalf." You nodded with a genteel but firm finality, pulling your fur coat closer to your body as you began to exit, set to see only one person in mind. "Good day, ser."

Larys was not foiled so easily. He had spent the entirety of your stay at the Red Keep waiting patiently for the perfect opportunity to trap you in his web. He refused to let the bastard girl with dark eyes and blood on her hands get away and moved his wooden cane into your path.

Despite the Lord being hunched over due to his deformity, you still had to look up at him, his blue eyes sharp and cold like the brackish waters that clashed on the cliffs of Dragonstone. "Forgive me, Princess, but Her Grace has sent me to speak with you, and I do not intend to keep her wishes unfulfilled."

You squinted in response, taking a single pace back and rising to his eye level. "I believe we can speak plainly here, Princess. I know you find the manners of courtly talk abhorrent." When you did not halt him in his silence, he continued, slightly tilting his chin down like prey seeking to appear meek and unappetizing to its predator. "Do you recall all those years ago, when you were just a young girl, stolen from all she knew?"

The recollection of those events was something you still had difficulty allowing yourself to recall. So many life-changing and heart-shattering things happened in that short time, but you still sought to process it. Larys' lighthearted approach to it caused your chest to feel hollow. The memories of isolation, loneliness, fear, and anger all came flooding past the protective dam you created.

"I thought to extend you a helping hand in your time of need, but you turned it away. It hurt me deeply to see such a young child broken and scared enough to reject an offer from the goodness of one's heart," he expressed, blue eyes lowering to the frosted ground in mock reverence. "I am, once again, simply a man seeking to help a scared girl in a world over her head."

Fury ran hot through your veins, boiling your bones and the very blood that gave you life. Before you realized it, your hand was wrapped around the Strong Lord's throat, fingers digging into the flesh and tendons as his gaze filled with fear. It would be easy to kill him. A simple twist of the neck would be all it takes, just the way your Father taught you. You were sure he would be proud of doing so.

The thud of Larys' cane hitting a stone as it found its way to the ground caused you to realize the severity of your actions, looking around to ensure no one saw. A young servant scurried along the covered hallway separating the Godswood from the Keep, realizing he was caught.

It was most likely one of the Master of Whispers' "spiders" that he so lovingly called, keeping watch to ensure that if anything of value happened during the conversation, there would be more than one witness.

Your grip loosened for Larys' neck, his unruly stubble scratching against your palm as it slid down to the collar of his intricately sewed tunic, resting your hand on his chest. You giggled, the sound eerily contrasting the seriousness of your attempted murder, a heart-stopping grin pulling your cheeks.

"The only thing that is preventing me from putting you where you belong is justice for all the other little girls you sought to take advantage of." Your breath was hot, steam hitting his face as a dragon would. "It is not me who will execute your punishment. The Gods have a place in the Seven Hells for men like you."

You let go of your hold on his jerkin, the Lord crumbling at your feet without his cane. The sight was fitting. A man who constantly searched for ways to hurt people, to harm people, for his own game was cowering before you. It was his proper place.

"Tell the Queen that my decision remains, and that my Mother also remembers their shared youth fondly."

You spared the Strong Lord no parting glance, leaving him to reach for his walking stick with embarrassment that only a man like him deserved.

***

The force of Aegon's thrusts pushed you up his extravagant bed, mewling and moaning as you sought for purchase in the sheets. He was feral as he plowed through your walls, noises emanating from his chest that sounded like a growl.

"These fucking tits," he groaned, eyes locked onto your jolting mounds. Your head tilted back in euphoria underneath his gaze, clenching around him.

Your breasts were moving in time with his brutal thrusts, making you unable to fully catch your breath as the air was pistoned out of your lungs. Aegon's hands pawed at them, kneading the malleable flesh underneath his fingers roughly as you released a nasally sound.

The Aegon that was submissive to your touch was gone and left only a man who chased his desires inside a woman's cunt. Each push caused his cockhead to kiss your womb, moving his hips more mind-numbing than the last.

Aegon had one goal in his sights, fuck that sweet puffy cunny of yours until you forgot all worries. He grew to know the telltale signs of your distress: cuticles frayed, mouth crude, and constant fidgeting. He had noticed the rawness of your lips, skin nipped and picked until the flesh turned red and white, legs never ceasing movement at rest.

He did not believe it despite you telling him about the conversation with his Mother, and now Larys Strong did not bother you. Aegon understood that expressing your dolor was foreign, never having someone to divulge your worries to and have them validate them. He knew it would take some time for you to grow comfortable and accept that someone would give you a shoulder to cry on and an ear to listen with, but he knew one way that always helped him forget his troubles...

Getting fucked.

And if Aegon so happened to get the added benefit of his pleasure, it was not something he would refuse.

His arms hooked under your knees, spreading them apart as he continued to rut into you, droplets of sweat glistening on his chest, creating a sheen that sparkled in the candlelight.

He was such a pretty boy. It was a thought that ran through your mind every time you saw him, and it created a deep envy to be a part of the same House and yet gifted such plain features. Aegon, with his elegant silver hair, exotic purple eyes, and smooth porcelain skin that showed veins of blue and green that looked like threads weaved into the tapestry of his flesh. With your dark hair and eyes, you have simple features for what people believe to be a simple girl. The only thing that indicated your Targaryen lineage was the white in your strands of ebony and the purple hidden within your irises. 

Your hands couldn't help but run over the planes of his chest, muscles rippling from exertion. It made you grateful to have someone so close to a god panting above you as his cock rubbed against your sweet spot.

Aegon's fists grabbed your own, leaning over to place both on the pillows beneath your head. Hot arousal shot through you at the action, his face hovering above yours.

You captured Aegon's lips in a desperate kiss, whining and wanting intimacy as you swallowed each other's breaths. The hair at the base of his manhood rubbed against your pearl, causing your legs to jerk inward to your body and your hips to move on their own accord, grinding against his pelvis.

"Fucking take it," he hissed against your cheek, hips pistoning into you like an animal in a rut.

"So good," you sighed, legs wrapping around his waist.

"You fucking love this, don't you?" You nodded into another kiss, his lips trailing down to suck at an already tender spot beneath your throat. "It's so hard being the one who takes care of everything. Sacrificing your happiness for the good of the realm, being the dutiful daughter your Father wants you to be."

Your nails dragged down his shoulders, digging into the thick muscle as he bit at the vein on your throat, licking the sensitive spot to soothe it. "I don't-" you breathed, voice faltering as his fingers snaked to the throbbing bundle of nerves, circling it swiftly, "I don't want to think about that right now."

"Oh, but all you do is think," Aegon purred, balancing his weight on his unoccupied forearm. "You think, think, think about the realm, family, the future, me." He exaggerated, punctuating every word with a thrust.

Each movement of his hips and fingers hurdled you toward the edge at breakneck speed, your body unable to catch up as you felt slick leak around his cock, trickling down through your arse. The sounds coming from between your legs caused you to shy away in embarrassment, attempting to hide your flushed cheeks in the goose-down pillows.

"Oh, no, no, no," Aegon teased, pushing your head back to its place, seeing the tears that gathered in your shut eyes from his forceful thrusts. "Let me see that face, and those eyes, pretty thing. Beautiful."

You released a sob at his compliments, unable to process the intensity of his gaze, the mere centimeters away his countenance was from yours. You could see every microexpression form on his features, every pull of his brows, every pinch of his lips and clench of his jaw. The noiseless grunts in your ear were better than the finest music you had ever heard, better than anything a bard could play, sending you teetering over the edge.

"Come on. Peak for me, Princess. I know you can do it."

Aegon did not falter in his actions, continuing with the harsh snaps of his hips, jolting your breasts, causing you to grab them for purchase as his fingers rubbed your swollen nub until you finally burst.

A gush of slickness rushed from your womanhood as you released with a fierce cry, your peak crashing into you like waves in a storm at sea. It collided with your body as you arched and shook, digits digging into your breasts, eyes seeing the night sky and stars blooming in your vision.

"That's it. You're doing so well," Aegon grunted, halting his movements as you clenched brutally around his shaft, keeping him firmly in place. "Just let it happen."

Your hands tangled into his hair, gripping the roots meanly as the spasms of your cunt eased, leaving your waist and limbs trembling and twitching beneath your lover. As your heart calmed with your chest heaving, you grabbed Aegon's face, smashing your lips against his, realizing he hadn't reached completion.

"Aegon," you whispered against his mouth, beginning to question him.

He shushed you, knowing what you would ask before voicing it. He understood you would not give up so easily as he felt your hips begin to undulate, pushing past your overstimulation in search of pleasing him. The Prince pulled out before you could assist him at the expense of yourself, lifting your pliant body and positioning you on your stomach, head at the foot of the bed.

Delicate strands of ebony stuck to the back of your neck, trapping the heat and sweat into a sticky, uncomfortable mess, though you hardly cared. You lay there flat on Aegon's wrinkled sheets, your chest rising and falling as you fought to catch your breath.

Everything had been so quick and intense that you had trouble comprehending what had happened. One moment, you were sitting in the Prince's solar, fuming over Larys' words, and the next, you were rutted into at such a pace you thought the bedframe would crack. Yet, despite an underlying notion of befuddlement, you were at ease. Your limbs felt like they were melting into the mattress, a euphoric warmth wrapping your body in its comforting blanket, mind fuzzy.

Aegon gently nudged you from your head with tender touches of his digits, smoothing your hair away from your neck and above your shoulder with tender kisses. A deep, nasally moan came from you at the action, slowly rousing and returning to your body. His kisses began to travel lower, sweetly nipping and sucking places where the skin rolled.

He pecked each vertebrae of your spine, cherishing the very flesh of your bones. Aegon knew that kisses and actions of affection would never be able to display how deep his love for you went, but he would try. He would honor the very ground you walked on, worship your body as if it were the Maiden's, and pray to the sacred passages written in your veins. He knew it was sacrilegious, but he would gladly suffer the wrath of the Gods as he had a sliver of your love.

Finally, Aegon's lips reached your bottom, leaving a last kiss to your tail as he leaned upright, gazing at the ambrosial sight before him. Your curves, hips, waist, and arse were almost celestial in their beauty, the yellow candlelight illuminating your form. His hands dragged down those very features, squeezing when he reached your bottom, pushing the globes together as he dribbled a line of spit from his mouth to in between them.

You perked at the unexpected sensation, turning your head to see Aegon fisting his cock, angry and red at his procrastinated release. He pushed your skin closer together, member sliding in between the two mounds of flesh with ease.

It was strange to have him fucking the crease of your arse, skin enveloping his manhood like a glove, but it wasn't unpleasant. Any touch from Aegon was something you welcomed, especially when he was satiating his desires within your body. The mere thought excited you once more, your abused cunt arousing as he continued to seek his fulfillment.

It felt almost freeing to be used in such a way. You would allow Aegon to do as he pleased because you trusted in him. You both went through enough anguish and heartache to leave you raw and unable to hide, your soul bare for the other. For once, you had no worries, no purpose other than to lay there and let someone take care of themselves without the anxiety of wanting your help. The thought made your cunt clench with arousal.

Aegon's thrusts were sure in their intent as his fingers pinched at your cheeks, keeping the skin taught to resemble the feeling of your velvet walls. You let out a breathy sound, keeping your legs closer together as your thighs rubbed, seeking friction you knew only one thing could give you.

"Awe. Is that little cunny of yours wet again?" he patronized, voice sounding like a dove. "Do you need your brat prince to fuck you mindless again?"

You nodded, hiding your face in the crook of your elbow with a pathetic mewl that would leave your Father ashamed as Aegon slowly entered. The stretch was not as severe, your walls having grown accustomed to his girth as he began to do shallow, sturdy thrusts.

A low, almost inaudible grown released from your throat as pleasure leisurely began to mount. Aegon slowly lifted your hips, leaving your upper body prone as he used the new position for better leverage, skin molding under his fingers.

His pace was rhythmic, rooting into your cunt with a sureness of a skilled musician with their instrument. The contrast in dynamics between the Aegon who was impuissant against the denial of your presence, the Aegon who had brutalized your womanhood, and the one who now tenderly groped and massaged your flesh was stark. It sent your head spinning, retreating into your mind as your pleasure soon overpowered your senses.

"So beautiful," the Prince rasped, drunk on the pulsing sensation of your cunt, "so beautiful, my beautiful princess, my goddess."

His words were mumbled together, too far drowned into the cup of sex, spouting incoherent confessions of love and oaths that would put even the most lovelorn of poets to shame. Aegon could not shake the captivating movements of your body, enthralled with the repetitive ripples of your skin, violet eyes flicking to where his cock disappeared.

***

The halls of the Keep were bustling, being only a few hours past high noon, the sun shining over the top of the grey clouds. Ser Arryk had just left his midday meal, something you insisted he take after learning about his tendency to skip it in favor of his duty.

His path was sure as he walked between the red rock walls, armor clanking with every step. You had told Arryk you would meet him at the library in the west wing after his luncheon, but you had yet to show. He waited until the sun was in a low position before he left, conjuring excuses the entire time.

You were a princess, a woman who had duties to attend to, so it was common for you not to be punctual, but typically, you would send word by either servant or guard. It put an uneasy feeling in the knight's stomach, though he told himself not to worry. You were capable and could defend yourself if need be, yet he was still concerned.

Arryk was your protector. He swore an oath to the realm and you that he would serve and lay his blood before yours.

He knew he could be rather melodramatic at times; you told him so with a shake of your head and a bright smile. He repeatedly replayed the melodic lilt of your voice inside his head until he reached the eldest Prince's doors, his twin brother standing outside it.

He greeted Erryk with a nod, his twin staring back at him with a furrowed brown like his own.

"I am unaware of the Princess's whereabouts. She told me that we would meet in the library, but has yet to show. Have you seen her, brother?" Arryk questioned with a stiff spine.

Erryk continued to gaze at him with curious blue eyes. "Did she not tell you?" he inquired, tilting his helmeted head as he answered. "Her Grace and Prince Aegon have been within his chambers since this morning."

Arryk's heart began to race, blood rushing to his head and thumping in his ears. "In his chambers?" he echoed, voice rising. "Brother, you know this is entirely inappropriate. You are directly putting a child of the crown in danger within the hands of-"

He couldn't finish, his twin swiftly grabbing his arm and looking to ensure no one heard his treasonous confession.

"I know this, Arryk!" he shouted, a blue vein popping on his forehead. "I know the depths of his depravity better than anyone, yet I continue to do my duty without fail! What say you, brother?" He interrogated with an intense gaze, anger simmering into a steady boil. "Where is your, Princess now? In the bed of a lecherous wastrel who entertains himself with whores and drink."

"She is not," he replied hastily, like a child trying to convince a parent. "She would not debase herself."

Erryk stared at his twin, the person he shared a womb with now so distant and cold. An air of anger and disbelief he had never seen Arryk possess in his entire lifetime shook him to the bones, causing him to pause.

He had heard of the rumors of Princess Rhaenyra and her former protector, Ser Criston Cole, but never thought it was possible. The Kingsguard swore an unspoken oath of celibacy and no romantic love, yet here, his brother held a fury and sense of betrayal only a lover would feel. He needed to stop him from going down a path he could never follow.

Erryk stepped away from the door, and his brother entered without hesitation.

Arryk traveled through the Prince's entry room, dodging furniture and end tables with more skill than a stag. He heard noises from beyond the bedroom walls, and his stomach sank. He understood what they were, but his denial was too strong, guiding his limbs with a forlorn dread to the eldest son's bed chambers.

Hope did not die that he would enter into nothing. The soft grunts and moans were, for some other reason, only the Gods would know. He would even be relieved with the possibility that Aegon was taking you by force. Arryk would be able to do what he swore and protect your honor.

Anything. Anything would be better than what the knight's icy gaze saw.

There you lay on the Prince's bed, arse up and curves on display in Aegon's hands, moaning in adoration as he pounded into you from behind.

Arryk wished you were dead, oath be damned because this... this was far worse. The pair of you beat his already shattered heart bloody on the floor, crushing in time with the Prince's sure thrusts.

You did not hear Ser Arryk open the door. You were too lost in pleasure to be aware of anything. Aegon brought his appearance to your attention, blood running cold.

"We have a guest, little one," he jested, unceasing in his movements.

Your limbs went rigid, your body going into fight, flight, or freeze, your mind scrambling on what to do, where to go, and what to say. Aegon's unwavering ministrations did not help as you inhaled panicked breaths.

Pushing yourself up to hide in shame, he quickly grabbed you, hooking his arms around your waist and across your chest to your neck, putting your naked form on display.

You yelped at the sudden change in position, Aegon's cock nestling inside you impossibly deeper as he continued his ruts. You couldn't comprehend what was happening. It was all too much.

Pleasure, embarrassment, shame, and fear were at the forefront of your mind as your eyes burst with tears. It set your nerves on fire, your already overstimulated body alight with every emotion and sensation you felt. Your muscles were too weak to protest against Aegon's hold as his hand snaked down your mound of black curls in search of that bundle of nerves.

"Please," you simpered, attempting to hide your face in the Prince's damp hair, "don't look at me."

Rivers fell from your peculiar eyes at an alarming rate. You felt like that same little girl on the day Madam cast you out. The day that had set everything up into the perfect maelstrom you now lived. You were ashamed, almost fearful of Ser Arryk seeing you in such a vulnerable state, a condition you required the utmost amount of trust for you to be in.

You should be furious at the person who put you into this situation, displaying your most sacred parts for a common person to see, but you couldn't. You were only confused and terrified.

"My sweet girl," Aegon cooed into your ear. The kind words created no comfort, instead causing a guttural sob to release from your chest. "Tis all right. There is nothing for you to shed those pretty tears over."

Nothing could stop them, yet soon they turned into wet moans as his digits swiped at your nub with more purpose, a singular, humiliating, yet arousing goal in mind.

"Please... get... out," you beseeched the knight, finally bringing your watery gaze to meet his aghast one.

You could see it written plainly as the tomes you studied, Ser Arryk's betrayal. His sheer disgust for the sight before him. It made everything so much worse.

The protector's thoughts were treasonous, oath-breaking. You were a fine warrior, Visenya reincarnate, yet you let this man defile you. He wished you were another one of Aegon's victims, raped and uncared for, because then he would not have to witness this... this vulgar and repulsive display of pathetic, willing vulnerability you gifted Prince Aegon.

Arryk had worshiped you on a pedestal in silence. He compared you to that of the Mother and fantasized about a life separate from societal constraints where you could be what he dreamed.

But that was gone now, burned in the flames of those who shared the dragon's blood.

"Come now, Ser Cargyll, I am not blind to your affections toward my Princess. You should feel honored to see her in such a way," the Prince antagonized, his thrusts sure as they wound the already-formed ball in your stomach.

"Stop," you pleaded breathlessly.

That was the word Ser Arryk waited to hear, hand going to the pommel of his sword as he took a dangerous step forward.

"Oh, don't be so tense," Aegon chortled. "She may say to stop, but if I do, she'll beg me to continue. Isn't that right, little one?"

You refused to dignify his belittlement with a response, instead choosing to release a low mewl, head lulling as if the weight was too heavy.

You were growing dangerously close to your peak despite the horrendous shame that bubbled up inside, and you desperately did not want a member of the Kingsguard to see you in that defenseless state.

"You are going to bear witness to such a sight, ser. You shall be the second ever to see the glorious act of her release," Aegon continued to deride, making that feeling of self-hatred all the more prevalent. "I can feel her clenching, her cunt begging to peak, milking me for my seed." His lips moved flush against your hair, his breath moist as he uttered subdued grunts.

"Let go, my love," he pleaded, voice now noiseless and tender with scores of love and adoration. "Do this for me, please? I need you to come. Show him that you belong to me, that you desire me, love me."

You could never deny Aegon; it was one of your shared vices.

With a gentle kiss to the crown of your head and a handful of harsh ruts, your second peak arrived. It rattled your bones and overwhelmed your senses, feeling as if your mind had left this realm of existence from the sheer intensity of it.

Moans of ecstasy pierced Ser Arryk's ears like a needle to the eye, the sound causing bile to fill his mouth as he ran from the room, unable to keep watching and missing how the Prince sullied your perfect skin.

It relieved Aegon that the knight finally left. He grew increasingly guilty for the tears he had caused and continued to flow freely. Perhaps he had pushed you too far, he mused as his hot spend dripped from your stomach and onto the sheets. Anxiety crept into his chest as he felt your body finally grow limp, your hands grasping any part of him you could find to ground yourself.

You realized then that this moment was more for Aegon than you. His tears welled in his amethyst orbs as he began to apologize profusely. His actions came from a deep-seated insecurity that no reassurance could ever mend, and while it did not excuse what he did, it provided reason.

Remorse was the least he could offer after disgracing you in favor of tending to his broken ego as he kissed every piece of skin he could find. It would take time for you to forgive Aegon for the sexual humiliation he put you through, and you realize that he understood that, too, as he spouted incoherent regret.

You loved him, perhaps too much to be considered sane, but that was another item on your list of shared vices.

Masterlist of Series

You know that no one can be happy for long in this universe. That's all I'm going to say xD.

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