#former saber

[dailyfigures]

Arthur Pendragon ; Fate/Grand Order ☆ Orange Rouge

[worldsquietestjojosfan]

Mingjue's gaze softens.

"Didi. You are confused. You are misinterpreting brotherly love for romantic interest."

Huaisang clenches his firsts and stares down at the floorboards. His expression morphs into one of pain. He draws in a deep breath.

"Da-ge, please sleep with me." Mingjue's body jerks back at his little brother's words. "If I sleep with you, then I'll know for sure what I'm feeling."

[miodiodavinci]

have you ever... Zola magical girls/people?

(grabs your shoulders)

did you mean one of my many oneshots / AUs from 2015-2019

[k1rishiki]

the thing about the queer media tournament that really gets me is that last i checked there wasn't a single mxtx work on it. like not even the untamed made it in and don't get me wrong the og mo dao zu shi books are huge but cql is def more popular among tumblr circles. idk it just really rubs me the wrong way how every single piece of western media that ppl have ever gotten a lil bit aggressive abt shipping with is there and then for east asian media there's utena and madoka magica and the handmaiden and last i checked that was pretty much it. and then for the rest of the world there's next to/nothing but idk enough to really make judgements there.

[jewishcissiekj]

Currently I have two headcanons regarding Padawan Asajj having a Lightsaber on Rattatak 1) She found a crystal in a random cave on the planet and built the hilt itself from scraps with Ky's help 2) Ky had two lightsabers when he came to Rattatak and he gifted one of them to Asajj. This is an incredibly devastating hc to me because canonically after his death she uses both sabers to kill the people who killed him

Yeah idk it's just really interesting to me how that Lightsaber comes from nowhere lmao

[derpcakes]

Thinking about this post and it occurs to me, 10 years in retrospect, how funny it would have been to make it a point in coffeefic that Diarmuid is actually shithouse as a barista but Sola keeps him employed because he's stupidly hot. Everything else in the plot remains the same

[monstersqueen]

while this conversation is going on i kept thinking of what other masters there are

so illya, who they already know of

the caster/assassin/souichirou trio makes up for two masters and two servants

kirei is not actually lancer's master but bazette is hors-jeu

and the matou, who manage to be three masters for two servants but this route we'll only see shinji

...wait. at school they've got rin, shirou, souichirou, and shinji. that's four our seven masters. if you chose to go by rider's actual master, she's also at school

kirei's not actually a master of this war and assassin's master should be counted as souichirou's servant, so -

in short only illya doesn't go to school

rin : 'no of course there are no masters at school i would know'. rin, they all go to school

[kraviolis]

daredevil star wars au where matt and foggy and karen are all jedi but matt is constantly struggling with the fact that the jedi do a lot of good but they overlook so much suffering and pain because theyre too tied up in politics and keep failing those who need them most and he ends up becoming a dark jedi vigilante while also maintaining his cover within the order itself bcus he does still believe in the jedi code but feels that they dont do enough for the galaxy.

[sangfielle]

the probably most defining thing that shrike 1 did that made shrike 2 the thing that it was when that character started getting made was the fight where shrike 1 - a person who does not have or fight with a mech, and instead largely uses his own body & a few short range tools like knives - jumped up onto one of the mechs the group was facing off against and started breaking the mech apart with his hands and claws to get to and kill the person inside of it. very central moment for thanatos (shrike 2), the giantkiller

[severalowls]

Impulse bought a new lil game on Steam called... I forget. First Cut: Samurai Duels or something? Anyway its pretty fun and simple-but-tricky gameplay but mostly the visual design is pretty cool. I never actually played Trek to Yomi but imagine if that was fast paced and more specifically inspired by the 'cut in half and spouting blood' bit of samurai movies.

[observeroflaplace]

Grail War AU 2

Clash

Standing atop a many-headed beast, a stocky figure clad head to toe in armour, save for bare her left leg, peers down at her foe. Her monstrous steed, clearly not of this world, beats its wings to remain airborn despite its size and clear ferocity.

Her foe glares up at her. She is a tall woman with short, braided hair and golden regalia reminiscent of the Roman imperial armour, accented by a bright red cape. Cavalry sabre and shield in hand, the surface of the water ripples beneath her despite supporting her weight.

“Interesting.” The warrior mounting the demonic beast mused; 15 snarling faces of her steed glaring at her foe as a predator sizing up its prey.

“You are blessed by water it seems. A trait not unheard of, but a rarity nonetheless. Perhaps you have shown your hand, Saber.”

‘Saber’ scoffs.

“You are no closer to comprehending my greatness for it.”

“And you, no closer to reaching me. Without your trump card, what hope does a servant summoned to the Saber class have of reaching me in the heavens?”

With haughty irritation, Saber points her blade towards her foe. With the distinctly resounding bang of a ship’s cannon, a burst of golden light bursts forth from her blade towards the offending beast’s wings, in order to ground its rider.

Though supernaturally nimble, not least due to the inhuman skill of its rider, the great beast is unable to evade entirely; though rather than tear through its wing, the armoured woman guides the winged monster such that its hide is grazed and not struck head on.

Saber’s assault continues; an onslaught of magical radiant blasts, suppressing the movements of even the supernaturally swift monster and rider. Still, though three of the 15 faces of the monstrous mount are seared away by burning radiance, several heads lunge with gnashing fangs and stretching necks, akin to great serpents, the hydra, or even dragons.

Saber is caught momentarily off-guard, barely fending off the many vicious maws seeking to tear her apart with her blade and hoplite. As the beast begins to reach her armour however, Saber shines a brief but intense flicker of red, and she smiles.

“Very well, master.”

Golden light erupts from the taller woman’s body, enveloping her in a blinding pillar. Such was the intensity and sheer force that the monster’s heads were forced away and burned to ash and mana. Still, the monster possessed awareness through faces on its scorched wings, and took flight for what appeared to be the rider’s desperate attempt to retreat and counterattack.

The scope of this attack, capable of razing a fortress and the forces within would not allow such an easy escape.

[Victoria Brittanica - Embodiment of Promised Victory]

Saber gathers the flowing magical energies freely surging from within her through her blade, holding it high. With a great one-handed swing, she brings it down in a vertical arc; wherein the concentrated mana explodes outwards, parting the lake for a time and engulfing the fleeing rider and beast.

With a bright flash and the gradual flow of displaced waters finally returning to place, Saber slumps in momentary exhaustion, catching her breath. The attack, though certainly fatal, not only exposed her true identity, but also greatly taxed her and her master’s reserves of magical energy.

Yet, to her horror, her foe stood before her, in what little remained of the parted lake’s bed that had not yet been reclaimed. The woman’s armour had changed, with a burned greave depicting wings and a few small mask motifs now on her formerly bare leg, and her helm briefly floating above her, as the grotesque face of a beheaded demon.

“It appears you win this round, Saber. However, know that an empire of recent history is nothing before a king of the age of gods.”

Taking advantage of Saber’s evident exhaustion, the other woman and her leering companion vanish into glittering particles of mana, and the water displaced by the final blow swallows their former foothold.

In the distance, gazing at the scene through binoculars, a tall and lean man with dark hair scowls. He grips his fist in frustration, revealing the faded red brand; one of three command seals wasted.

[t-u-i-t-c]

chapter xxvii

[pasukiyo]

I END WITH YOU

anakin skywalker x f!jedi!reader word count; 3,988 warnings; unprotected p in v sex, angst summary; you're too good, too noble. anakin doesn't understand why you feel the need to always protect him when he doesn't need saving. when you get hurt, it takes every ounce of willpower within him to not go insane. you don't seem to understand why he's so doting. you thought you had anakin skywalker figured out... ...but you have no idea how he ends.

 One look was all it took, for Anakin could hear it in the silence. 

 “I need you.”

 Anakin’s lips had already been pressed together, his brow already furrowed, for he was already royally pissed off. It’d been enough to be dragged on this wasteland of a planet by Obi-Wan, it’d been enough that she’d insisted that she should tag along, it’d been enough that absolutely nothing was going according to plan— and seeing her with a blaster wound to the bicep certainly didn’t aid in improving his mood. 

 It was bad enough he had to react like he didn’t care enough, pretend that for a moment, he didn’t fear that she wouldn’t react to move in enough time, that the little ray of blazing scarlet would pierce straight through her heart. It was bad enough that he had to watch her slice the wobbling green light of her saber through the battle droid’s chest all on her own, all the while clutching her arm. 

 It was bad enough watching her being patched up now, having to stare into her eyes that on the surface, seemed to mask her pain. But Anakin knew her better than anyone else— he could see right through that facade she’d so delicately crafted. All he could see now was her desperation, her desire to hold him close, to feel him so deeply like no other could. Anakin had to look away now, for not only was Obi-Wan approaching, but he knew that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to detach himself from her. 

 “You’ve certainly seen brighter days,” Obi-Wan said as he sauntered into the small alcove of the ship Anakin had accompanied her in. She tore her gaze away from the side of Anakin’s face to instead fixate on the Jedi Master, glancing down at her wound that C-3PO had since covered in Bacta spray. 

 “It’s no bother,” she replied, shrugging and raising her arm, much to 3PO’s dismay as he rocked the upper half of his body back, arms thrown in the air. “No, no! I am not done dressing your wound yet! You must keep it still or else your wound may open again and—“

 “3PO,” Anakin’s bark of the droid’s name permeated the room and all seemed to still for a moment. She blinked at the sound of Anakin’s voice and swallowed down her desire to let it burn like a spark on a rope, trailing all the way down her throat and chest until it reached the frayed edges at the pit of her belly, setting her center ablaze. She shifted where she sat and dropped her head, along with her arm as 3PO— now silent— continued to wrap it. 

 Anakin turned to face his former Master as Obi-Wan eyed him right back, a wrinkle in his brow. Anakin only waited for him to continue, wiping his face clean of any feeling. After another few moments of the already prolonged silence, Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder into the frame of the door. 

 “Master Windu summons us for a meeting as soon as we get back to the Temple,” Obi-Wan continued. “To discuss all that has transpired today, and such.”

 Anakin sunk his molars down into the slimy flesh of the inside of his cheek, feeling his features harden as he turned away to face the panels on the wall. 

 “Great,” he replied, irritation laced in his tone. Obi-Wan knew Anakin well enough to know when something was weighing on his mind. But Obi-Wan also knew Anakin well enough to know when to not push his boundaries. He respected him enough for that, at least. 

 Obi-Wan sighed as he pushed off the wall, dipping his chin when he glimpsed back over to where she sat, 3PO finishing up the final touches of her bandages. “Rest well,” he said. “You will need your strength.”

 She dipped her chin back to Obi-Wan, grateful for an excuse to avert her gaze. “Thank you,” she replied, and then Obi-Wan was off, brown robes trailing behind him and slowly disappearing behind the door as it slid closed. 

 “There,” 3PO finished her bandages at last. She glanced down at her wrapped arm, already feeling the bacta spray begin to set into the wound, sighing in relief as the pain began to subside. “Please do not move it around too much. Too much movement could lead to—“

 “That’s enough, 3PO,” Anakin, voice still as deep as it was earlier, turned, sharp gaze slicing into the metal of the droid. 3PO turned to face his creator, “but, Master Skywalker, I must insist that she—“

 “I assure you, 3PO, that she will face no further harm,” Anakin interrupted the droid yet again, arms uncrossing and dropping to his sides as he moved to step closer. 3PO, with his stiff arms held in the air, took a step backward, facing his Master. “Now go.”

 3PO’s arms flailed as he turned, waddling his way towards the door. “How rude! A thank you would be nice every once in a while,” she could just make out from the droid before the door slid closed behind him and she bowed her head, picking at the edges of her bandages with her fingernails. 

 “You could be nicer to him, you know,” she murmured, not having realized that Anakin had drawn himself closer, not until the middle and forefinger of his gloved mechanical hand pressed beneath the underside of her chin. Her gaze was forced into his, her bottom lip quivering at the storm raging in the dark hues of his irises. Although she knew Anakin was angry, she could feel a spark set her skin ablaze at the sight of his tightly pressed lips, of his furrowed brow, tight jaw and exploded pupils. 

 She struggled to keep her thighs from closing together to ease the ache in her core. 

 “Why must you insist on getting yourself into situations that always end in you getting hurt?” Anakin snipped and she blinked when the thumb of his gloved hand curled around the curve of her chin, his grip tightening on her jaw. Her breath shuddered as Anakin’s stare dropped to her lips, to her throat, to her collarbone, to her clothes, as if searching for any further sign of injury. 

 Her bottom lip wobbled before she replied, “you can at least acknowledge that I do not always get myself hurt.” 

 Anakin breathed a humorless laugh through his nostrils at this, his jaw ticking as he straightened, dropping his hand from her face altogether to pace the floor. “You’re always putting yourself in front of others, in front of Obi-Wan, in front of me,” he shook his head and she stared at the scar slicing through his right brow to avoid his gaze. “As if we aren’t capable of protecting ourselves.”

 Her quivering lips curled into a scowl at this as he looked anywhere but at her, chest heaving with the effort of keeping his anger at bay. “You’re angry with me for protecting you?” she repeated to confirmed and Anakin glowered her way. “I do not need your protection,” he hissed. “I can do it just fine on my own. Why don’t you look out for yourself every once in a while, you wouldn’t be in here today, hurt.”

 A humorless titter tumbled past his lips and he shook his head again. “Foolish girl,” he muttered, the wrinkle in her brow dimpling. “I do not need you to belittle me, Anakin,” she hissed back. “Do you take me for a fool?”

 Her heart pounded its fists against the inside of her chest— the last thing she wanted now was to argue with him. All she wanted was him, she craved him, needed to feel his arms around her, his fingers in her hair, his skin upon hers. But there, where that desire ached deep in the marrow of her bones, burned fury, white hot anger blitzing through her veins like a comet. 

 Did Anakin underestimate her? After all this time they’d known each other, grown with each other in the temple, learned together, trained together, fought together— did he misconstrue her power? 

 Her need for Anakin could wait— this berating of her dignity could no longer go on. 

 Anakin’s feet pivoted until he faced her, eyes searching her face, fleeting between her sealed lips, her clenched jaw, furrowed brows, heaving chest, sharpened features. He didn’t need to reach out and feel it to know she was upset, and it occurred to him that perhaps in his haze of rage, he’d misspoken. 

 He knew how capable she was, how skilled of a Jedi she was. There was no doubt about it— but what he hated most was how noble she was, how good she was. He hated that because she was too good, she’d spare not a second thought in battle. How it’d make her use herself as a shield to protect others, to protect him. 

 He couldn’t stand it, her need to protect him when his need to protect her blazed just as strong. Anakin couldn’t go on another minute knowing she’d been blasted all because he’d had his back turned, because she’d been quicker to react than him. Had he been paying attention, had he moved faster, he’d have been able to deflect the blaster bolt with his saber, he’d have been the one with the blaster wound instead. 

 His gaze flickered down to the bandages wound on her upper arm and he had to turn away, feeling the bitter taste of bile on the tip of his tongue. 

 “I do not think you are a fool,” he began. “But must you always be so noble?” She blinked, feeling her heart skip a few beats inside her chest. “Putting yourself in the line of danger for others, for me,” he shook his head as he paced to the other side of the room. “I cannot stand it.”

 She straightened her posture where she sat, sucking in a deep breath. “If I infuriate you so much, perhaps it’d serve you well to quit doting on me all of the time,” she snapped back, unflinching even when his glare hardened, firing just like a blaster shot into hers. “You pay attention to me more than you do yourself. Do you know how much I would hate myself if you got hurt because you treat me like I am a child?”

 Anakin stopped pacing, turning to face her once more. Either of his hands rested on his hips, bottom lip wobbling with his temper. 

 “You are not a child,” he replied. “And I am not doting. You misunderstand me.”

 She shook her head, “I think I’ve got you pretty figured out, Anakin Skywalker,” she said with a humorless titter, rising from her seat to march her way towards the door. She couldn’t stand being alone with him anymore, not when she looked at him and didn’t know whether or not she wanted to pounce on him and kiss him until their lips bled or slap her palm across his face. 

 Just before she could make it within reaching distance of the door’s control panel, the glove around his prosthetic hand tight where it wrapped around her uninjured arm, stilling her where she stood. 

 For a moment, neither spoke. She pressed her lips together in a firm, thin line, her breath heavy as it exhaled through her nose. She willed her eyes to fixate on his, the action proving itself difficult, as they wanted nothing more than to drop to his lips. His gaze was so hot, it was blistering, and she swore she could melt in a pool of magma at their feet. 

 “You know where I begin,” Anakin spoke in a low, husky voice. Her bottom lip quivered— damn her soaked center for betraying her so. “But you’ve not even the slightest idea where I end.”

 She blinked up at him, feeling a gate open somewhere inside of her, all her anger and frustration washing away as if with rain. All that remained in the downpour’s wake now was her libido, her desire to kiss him, her need to feel him, her lust for just him. 

 As the silence neared its end, Anakin’s features began to deflate, as if he’d reached out with the Force to feel him. She allowed herself to breathe, seal her eyelids closed, and reach an invisible hand towards him. Sure enough, she could feel him like a whisper on the tips of her fingers, like reaching out to graze her nails on the surface of the ocean. 

 When her eyes fluttered open again, his were closed, but not for long. She watched his eyelashes as they flit upon his cheeks, the veil of his lids sliding away until she was staring into that strange, enigmatic ocean in his gaze, his waters so dark, so blue, so captivating that she allowed herself to dive right in. 

 “Then lead me to your end,” she whispered breathlessly, feeling the gloved hand he’d had wrapped around her upper arm make its trek up the mountain of her shoulder, through the valley between it and her neck, up her throat and across the waterfall of her chin until his palm cupped her cheek. The pad of his thumb soothed over the flesh just beneath her bottom lip, and she shuddered. 

 Anakin sifted through the darkness of her pupils, his gaze so intense that for a moment, she believed he really was reading her mind, searching through the archives of her brain. But really, all he saw was her, as if she were in the limelight. All he could focus on was her, her breathing, her eyes, nose, lips. 

 He was a black hole, a bottomless pit etched into the earth, so dark, she realized that he was right: she wasn’t sure where he ended. 

 And Anakin pulled her right in. 

 They surged into one another like a wave crashing into another, his lips a seal over hers. Their tongues did a waltz inside where their mouths connected, Anakin quickly taking control. She mewled into his mouth as she clutched at his robes, tugging them forward as Anakin backed her into the wall, her back hitting the steel with a thud. 

 She was already so frustrated— yanking on the fabric of his robes, searching for an inch of his skin. His tongue was so strong over hers, his kiss so powerful, her mind was beginning to ooze into goo. Anakin’s hands moved away from her body but their kiss never once broke as he pushed the outer layer of his robes off his shoulders, letting the material pool at their feet. 

 She began unraveling his underclothes like he was a gift and he yanked the leather glove off of his mechanical hand, undoing the cloth belt around her waist with his other. Anakin tossed her belt off to the side, the flowy, outer layer of her top unraveling from her chest and he pushed the material down her shoulders, letting it join his robes on the floor. They pulled away for the briefest of moments, solely so Anakin could lift the tight undershirt away from her body before lifting his own shirt over his head. She pulled him in by the hem of his pants when he was done, tugging them down his thighs as he pulled down hers. 

 Skin. All she could feel was Anakin’s skin and oh, it was the softest thing she swore she’d ever touched before. He was like the richest of velvet, soft and so beautiful, a never-ending avenue for her lust. All she wanted to do all the time was touch him, never let his skin leave hers. 

 A hand snaked around to the nape of his neck to tug on the dark blonde locks there as his kisses broke from her lips to trace a line down her neck, feeling the edges of his teeth against the small curve of her collarbone. Her other hand clawed at the expanse of his back, hissing through her teeth at the pressure of his body against her wound. For a moment, Anakin seemed to realize this, his kisses slowing on her collarbone until she used the grip she had on his hair to draw him into her again. 

 “Don’t stop,” she mewled beside the shell of his ear, only hoping she’d be able to keep herself quiet enough. The notion that Obi-Wan was still on the ship lingered in the back of her mind, but she wasn’t so sure Anakin cared as much as his lips trailed down to the swell of her breast, nipping her between his teeth there. 

 Her head threw itself back against the steel wall, one of her legs lifting and bending to wrap around his. Anakin placed his palms on the backs of her thighs to lift her up, his body the only thing keeping her balanced. 

 “Anakin,” she breathed as he sucked marks into her breasts, teasing the bud of one of her nipples with the tip of his tongue. Through hooded lids, he glanced up at her, his lips never ceasing. She swiped her tongue between her lips for moisture, panting as he sunk his teeth into the flesh on the underside of her breast, sure to leave a mark. “Anakin!” She yelped and he released her skin, the bridge of his nose soothing up the valley between her tits as he kissed her skin.

 “I can’t help it,” he breathed into her chest. “You are like a vice.”

 She mewled again as she bucked her hips into him, feeling his erection beneath her.

 “Please Anakin,” she murmured. “Just need you to be inside. Need to feel you.”

 Anakin muttered a string of curses into her throat as he kissed his way back to her lips, peeling his mouth away from hers to rest his forehead against hers. 

 “Yeah?” He whispered, feeling her nod against his head. Anakin gazed down between her legs, at the glistening folds of her cunt, past it where the angry, pink head of his cock was. There was an ache deep in the pit of his belly for her that even he couldn’t believe he’d deprived himself of relieving for so long. “I need you too.”

 She gasped as he rocked his hips slowly, the tip of his length prodding against the underside of her angry clit. Her arms tightened where they were wrapped around his neck, catching his bottom lip between hers, sucking as he steadied himself into position, clamping her teeth down into the plush, pink flesh when he slid himself in. 

 Only the head of his cock had breached her barrier but she was already crying, hot, fat tears slipping from her eye sockets and rolling down her cheeks. She was so desperate to feel more, to have him as deep inside of her as possible. She could feel her walls clench around him, inviting him further in. Anakin groaned above her, muttering a string of curses against her sweaty hairline as he pushed himself the last few inches in.

 Anakin was so big, so girthy that she felt so full, felt like she hadn’t any room to speak, not even to breathe. She could feel him so deep inside of her where no other had been before, feeling him reach that hardly touched spot so far in her that just the mere graze of his tip against it felt like it seared a bruise.

 “Anak—!” She cried before his lips were on hers again, muffling her sounds. His hips retracted before thrusting back in, his cock hitting her cervix again, making her vision go black and glisten with stars. 

 “I’ve never felt something as wonderful as this,” Anakin panted as he pulled back only to thrust himself back in again. “I could stay in your pussy forever.”

 Her bottom lip wobbled and a mewl ripped from her throat as he clenched her thigh with his prosthetic hand, the other resting on the side of her neck, thumb just above the pulse of her throat. 

 “Let me see you,” Anakin whispered against her ear, pulling away as her eyelids fluttered back open, feeling that blistering stare surge back into hers. 

 But she knew what he meant. 

 She closed her eyes again and Anakin dropped his forehead to hers, his pace at a steady rhythm, his thrusts forceful, significant. She focused on the length of his cock nestled deep inside her warmth, on his warm skin on hers, on his breathing and the beat of his heart. All ceased to exist except for Anakin Skywalker, and she opened her mind to the sole being of her universe. 

 He felt like a breath of fresh air on the brightest day in Naboo, like when they visited their friend Padmé Amidala there and took a stroll through the Lake Country. He felt like the gentle, warm breeze that kissed her cheek. He was as warm as the smile he’d given her when they’d fallen on their backs in the plush, green grass. He was as tender as the words he’d spoken to her when he confessed his love for her. 

 Anakin Skywalker was truly a force like no other. He was power like she’d never felt before, more electrifying than even the rush that wielding her lightsaber gave her. He was stronger than even the feeling of the Force flowing through her veins was because in her eyes, he was her Force, her ground, her earth, her universe. 

 Anakin Skywalker was all that existed. He was all that was ever important. She never cared once for the oath she’d sworn under the Jedi Code when she was with him. She’d leave it all behind, let all her training and hard work go to waste, just so she could have him like this. Anakin was her centerfold, and she, his. 

 She stared at Anakin with a gentleness she’d never seen him in before and through their connection in the Force, he began to glow, like a star in a supernova. When she glanced down at herself, she found she shone the same. They were two stars in the middle of the galaxy reaching their end and she surged into him to brace for impact. 

 “Anakin!” She called his name into the connection and Anakin murmured her name back, feeling him brush against her cheek like the pad of a thumb. “I’m so close,” she mewled breathlessly and Anakin hummed in reply. He was so bright now, they were both so close that it was blinding. “We end together,” Anakin replied, sifting his fingers through her hair. 

 And they did just that. 

 Like a star in a supernova, she exploded and suddenly she was back in that small alcove of the ship, shuddering in the strong, warm arms of Anakin Skywalker. Her legs trembled with the force of her orgasm as it surged through her, her body melting into Anakin’s as thick, hot spurts of his own release flooded into her. 

 Their skin melted together as they both panted, chasing air back into their lungs and coming down from their highs. Using her arms still wrapped around his neck, she drew herself closer into him, nuzzling the side of her face against his chest. She could hear and feel his heartbeat there, matching the tempo of her own. 

 “I burn for you, Anakin,” her voice came out in barely a whisper. “It’s why I protect you— I’d be nothing if I were to lose you.”

 Anakin said nothing for a moment and she took the time to bask in the warmth of the silence, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. 

 “It’s because of how much I burn for you that I care so much about you,” he finally murmured his reply. “Because you are my purpose. I only end with you.”

a/n; okay six posts in a row, i am on a roll LMAOOO but ummmm... i actually feel proud of this one... i know... crazy 😵‍💫 turns out i write the best whenever i'm sitting in the bathtub LMFAO anyways! i truly hope you all enjoy this one :) i’ve enjoyed writing for anakin a lot these days! i don’t know why i never took the time to write for him before, he’s such a unique and complex character who is so fun to write for!

please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply if you enjoyed! it means the world to me 🥹🫶

TAGLIST;

@your-nanas-house

@chaoticevilbakugo

@k1ttenmittonz

[wizard-finix]

LU Star Wars AU: Part 3

Got a theme of noncanon characters for this one, this time we have Spirit and Warriors! (It doesn't feel right having a Star Wars AU without including Spirit)

PART 1 | PART 2

Spirit

Spirit isn't actually related to Wind, but the two of them are so alike in appearance that many mistake them for twins. While Wind loves to pilot, Spirit's interest lies more in tinkering directly with the spacecraft itself. He personally works on Tetra's, Linebeck's, and Wind's ships, and ended up also working as a mechanic for the Alliance for a brief time before moving on.

Spirit has had his own adventures with Spectre (AKA his Zelda); he is one of the rare few people alive to venture into the chaotic Unknown Regions of the galaxy without a wayfinder or star compass and return to tell the tale. That adventure involved an encounter with a ghostlike being named Malladus.

Spirit is also especially in tune with the Force and spirits, just like Wind. He also has some skill with a blaster, and is extremely handy in space combat, but he has no interest in combat and would rather work on his personal projects and ship designs. His personal favorite is a prototype set of powered armor he designed for Spectre, but unfortunately it got wrecked in the encounter with Malladus.

Warriors

Warriors is an active military captain in the Alliance. He is also a close friend of Artemis, who is a high ranking general and a current member of the Imperial Senate. Their home planet has widespread anti-Imperial sentiments and secretly hosts a base for the Alliance, and Artemis does her best to keep it hidden from Imperial eyes.

Warriors actually inherited his saber from his mother, a former Jedi Knight from the days of the Jedi Order, and was taught how to wield it by her before she passed. He grew up on stories of the old Order and is determined to uphold the legacy of being a Jedi Knight. Part of that is looking out for his men and protecting those who can't protect themselves, and protecting Artemis in her efforts with the Alliance.

He has a certain amount of pride in that legacy and the skills and stories he was taught. He quickly rose to the rank of Artemis's personal knight, and his achievements make him stand out among Alliance forces. It took a few particularly close calls with Imperial Forces to temper his pride.

One of those encounters involved a Sith Lord named Cia, whose attention he unwittingly caught. The only reason he escaped alive was due to someone named Lana, who he later learned was Cia's twin sister. Cia still has a one-sided obsession with Warriors in particular and is determined to hunt him down.

Warriors has also met plenty of people across the galaxy during his time with the Alliance; among these people were Wind and Spirit. Wind had a brief stint with Warriors as a pilot and Spirit ended up tagging along for the ride.

(Linked Universe AU belongs to Jojo)

[vadersassistant]

Hiiii

wo dering if you could do an enemies to lover anakin imagine. kind of like friends to enemies to lovers or something like that and it ends in them making out o whatever you are comfortable with.

Anyways thank youuu

Denial One Shot (Darth Vader x Reader)

Summary: After venturing into a Sith Temple to try and find an edge on the current war, (Y/N) meets her enemy, Lord Vader, the man who killed her best friend and secret lover. He has been hunting both her and her alias down for months, following her across the galaxy, but little does she know, he has no plans to kill her. Takes place in the temple seen in the Star Wars Rebels season two finale. Reader was previously a Jedi and is in hiding due to order 66.

Warnings: Make out session

A/N: (Y/N) does not know Vader is Anakin, and Vader does not know (Y/N) is the Fugitive he has been searching for. This is once again a mix of suited Vader and nightfall Vader. In which, Vader wears the suit and mask, but he can take it off and looks like the Anakin we know and love.

The temple was eerie, an odd feeling passing by with each step you took. It was the opposite of the one I grew up in, representing everything I was told to dislike, and yet I was here anyways. I had made up my mind to fight instead of continuing to run from the problem. I wasn’t a rebel, but I wasn’t an imperial either. I was the middle ground, a former Jedi with a new identity, a mask to shield my face so that I could live freely, but the saber still gave it away. I was good, too good to be a civilian having fun with an old relic, even though some still used them publicly. Some, as in him.

The Jedi fell and Lord Vader rose out of thin air. There was no preface, no foreshadowing, he just came, and everyone bowed their heads.

To outsiders he was a military leader trained in combat, who happened to use an imaginary power. To force users, like Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and I, he was a Sith. We all knew it the second he began hunting us down. He wanted the Jedi dead and made it clear when he began searching for my alias as well. Everyone knew who she was, I was put on every single imperial security watch available, but I evaded it all I could. I forged a new saber, so that they couldn’t track me that way, and told people about how the female jedi on the Holonets from the clone wars died. The only people who truly knew were Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, since they too had done something similar. He was Ben, she was Ashla, and I gained the name Fugitive, a mask being the only way to keep track of my identity.

I couldn’t count how many storm-troopers I had killed by now, just that I did. I was forced to, to keep myself alive, because he wanted me turned in. I was always told to run, to flee from Vader because of what he’s done, but all I wanted was for the man to wind up dead. A lust for revenge had developed ever since I learned what he did to my best friend, Anakin Skywalker.

I don’t even know how he could have killed a warrior like him, but he did and now he’s gone. Slaughtered like any other while trying to save people in the temple, something someone with his character would have done naturally. The worst part is that everyone he was trying to save is dead too, and that he could have escaped with us, had he not done what he did. He had a wife, Senator Amidala, a good friend of mine, who also died that night, although I wasn’t sure if they ended on good terms.

The two had been arguing for a while, he believed she was cheating on him with Obi Wan, although she continued to deny it along with everyone else. I was the only one who he talked to about his problems willingly, even Kenobi would have to go through reading his mind to talk about personal issues. It was only when Anakin died that the truth came out, that being that Anakin was right, and she was seeing Kenobi.

I hadn’t recognized him after that point. I knew he was afraid he would be kicked out of the Jedi order if we found out he was dating another woman. Even further, the fact he knowingly was allowing the affair to happen, but it occurred anyways, and he lost everything with it. That was consequence enough, he didn’t need me to yell at him any further for going that far.

Still, I was angry, because I cared about Anakin.

And also loved him.

I denied it for years, the helpless prodding’s from Ahsoka when the two of us would spend hours upon hours with each other. We carried out the entire war effort, working extremely close together on missions. It was no surprise that I liked him, he had even mentioned subtly what things would be like if he hadn’t met her. It sounded like he regretted it, but I had no clue, due to us being force users.

I now stood in front of the man who took him away, the one that gutted him in the chest like a fish with no care whatsoever. The man that had been hunting me down under both my names since the night of the fall, the one that was known for murdering everyone in his path. I don’t know how he found me, I had a feeling we were being followed, but I didn’t care. We needed the Holocron inside of the temple, and Ahsoka now had it in hand. I could sense their distraught, both behind me looking at the Sith in front of us. They didn’t want to fight him; they were afraid to fight him. I felt differently, looking at his mask through the visors of my own.

“It was foretold that you would be here, our long-awaited meeting has come at last."

“This meeting is over,” Ahsoka said.

“Are you so sure?” the Sith questioned through the modulated voice his mask provided him, as I stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan asked me, his breath becoming short.

“Leave."

“No," he shook his head. "Don’t do this."

“Leave. Now.”

I looked up at the temple’s ceiling as the walls started to drop down. It was collapsing on itself, since the Holocron had been taken from the Obelisk. There wasn’t much to do, but I knew I didn’t want to pull them into this. I turned around and outstretched a hand.  

Ahsoka screamed as I force pushed both her and Obi-Wan back while the temple’s walls crashed down. I saw her figure fly back just before the drop and felt her gently land. There was a ship, they could leave, I would worry about myself after I killed him.

“We’re finishing this here,” I said. "I know you've been hunting me for the past months."

“You are courageous, unlike your friends,” the Sith mused. “Hateful.”

“You killed my best friend," I pointed out. "I want you to experience that same pain."

“Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he reminded. "Your confidence dilutes your ability to make rational decisions."

“I am no Jedi.”

“Then who are you? Your saber is unlike any I have ever seen, an identity successfully hidden behind a helm.”

“That’s none of your business, why have you been hunting me?” I asked. I felt the pressure of the Dark Side creeping against my mind's barriers, he was trying to invade.

“You would make a wonderful apprentice in the dark side,” Vader said. "You have already abandoned your training as a Jedi."

“I don’t side with murderers.”

“And yet you are one. I have seen your way of fighting Fugitive; you have killed countless of our troops and inquisitors.”

“Your Inquisitorious is an embarrassment, and I will never join you, not after what you did,” I called my saber to my hand, igniting it.

“Then you will die.”

There was this feeling of fear that attempted to wash over me, like he was attempting to throw me off, but I wasn't thinking about it anymore.

I ran full speed at him, force pushing myself up off the ground and into the air to try and put myself on the offensive. My blade met his right over his helmet, as he angled me back and I landed behind him. My automatic response was to try and swing for his legs, a move he evaded but had been surprised by. I knew I needed to be careful with how I played things. He would try and tire me out by just playing the defensive, but I also didn’t get that tired frow much stamina I built up during the war. Vader was also bigger, and stronger, meaning I’d need to use his weight to my advantage. I was quick, less stable, and grounded, and more agile in my movements.

We continued to take shots at each other, as he seemingly began to test me. It was a constant switch from the right to the left, bashing at each other from different angles and walking along with it. It was something Anakin and I always did, and it almost felt familiar. For whatever reason, I could feel myself getting into the rhythm Skywalker and I got into when we would train every day. After a certain point I would always switch my grip and force him to back off, and I did it purely out of muscle memory, shoving the Sith back.

“Your anger focuses you,” he commented. “Join me and I can enhance that power.”

“You killed him, the man I loved, do you truly believe I would ever consider that?”

“He is gone for a reason,” Vader said.

“He was the chosen one!” I shouted, interlocking lightsabers in a pursuit for power over the other. "You know why he lost his life?! Because he was trying to save everyone else, instead of actually caring for himself for once."

“(Y/N)."

I stumbled back immediately, hearing that name leave his mouth,

"What?"

My eyes widened beneath the visors, letting my guard down for just a moment.

It was all he needed.

I felt his immense force break through my walls and invade my mind, clawing through my memories and thoughts like a file. Not only that, but he immediately took me to the ground. It was quick, as he now straddled me, muscular thighs resting over my lower waist. Both my arms were pinned to either side with by the force, my saber in his hand.

I grunted, struggling under him and thrusting against his cod piece hoping it would make him budge but it barely made a difference. I couldn’t do a thing, as the Sith reached for my mask and pressed down on the sides. I felt it depressurize, as his gloved digits lifted it off my head, and I looked into his mask with my own eyes.

"How do you know my name?" I asked angrily as I fought underneath him to free myself.

There was no way of telling what he truly felt in that moment, holding the helm silently, breathing being the only indication he was still alive. I continued to try and do everything to get out of his grasp, but the Sith only sat there and took me in, his body heat lingering over my own. I felt like a mess, wondering where Ahsoka and Obi-Wan might be right now, realizing why Anakin lost his life to this man. I didn’t know how he knew my name, my real name, the one that no one had called me in months. I was fully pinned down, not giving up until I saw him reach for his own helmet.

"What are you do—"

My throat ran dry, amber eyes piercing through my body like a blade.

"Anakin."

It was him, with brown hair that held golden streaks just above his armor.

"(Y/N)."

Hearing his voice sent a shiver down my entire back, as I shuddered underneath him.

“I thought you died—they said Vader killed you—" there were tears welling up in my eyes, looking up at him.

“I am alive."

“Why did you turn?"

“The Jedi council was using us, Obi-Wan lied to me about Padme (Y/N), they were having an affair. But you know that already.”

“Obi Wan told us,” I trailed off.

“I know.”

“Do you plan to kill me?”

“No, that was never my intent," he emphasized lowly.

“So, what will you do?” I questioned.

“After separating myself from the order, I reflected much upon it,” Anakin started. "And came to terms with several of my mistakes."

“What mistakes?”

Still straddling me Anakin leaned down, placing his hands by either sides of my head and lowering himself to my ear.

“I was blindly dating filthy senator, when I had the love of my life right next to me the entire time."

"What do you mean?" I emphasized each word, my abdomen tensing as he got so close to me.

"There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of my future and imagine you by my side. I told myself it was our strong bond causing me to think of you constantly, due to the amount of time we spent together, but now, I feel completely different."

"Anakin," my heart was racing, as he continued to whisper into my ear.

"Maker, I missed you so much."

He was just trying to be friendly, that's all this was.

"Now, I know you are not that naive," he let out a deep chuckle, reading my mind.

"Is this your way of coercing me into joining the dark side?" I said softly, trying to play it off.

"There is no need to coerce you (Y/N), your heart is already doing all the work," Anakin told me. "All there is to do is to make up for lost time."

"No.."

"Continuing to deny it is only stalling the inevitable," he spoke in a playful way. "Your hatred towards the one you believed to be my killer only proves it more."

"I—" I cut myself off, as Anakin moved his head, now right over mine.

"What is it?" he asked me, his golden eyes flicking from my lips up to my eyes in quick fashion.

I gave in, nodding to his silent question and feeling the force lift off my hands.

Anakin pressed his lips to mine as I lifted my head up and met him midway. His robotic hand came down to my waist, the other combing through my hair as he helped hold my head steady. It was delicate and prepared, goosebumps crawling over my skin as his weight pressed me onto the cold temple floors. He was an expert in the way he worked around my mouth, the first time I had ever kissed anyone to begin with.

To think such a sacred place would be ruined due to our own shenanigans.

A Jedi and a Sith, making out in a temple with no care for sentiment.

His lips were chapped yet soft, and the more breaths we took between kissing the more swollen they became. Anakin didn’t seem to care though, continuing to go down on my neck allowing me to breath. He wasn’t going too far, but it was enough for the occasion, leaving marks I that wouldn’t leave for days.

It was madness.

Everything around us screamed in pleasure, the force happily chiming along with the two sides agreeing on something, even if it wasn’t an argument. Anakin had changed, and I couldn’t decide if it was for better or for worse.

If only those two could see me now, making love to the man that we had been running from for months. The copious amounts of rage had turned to attraction in a blink of an eye, rejoicing in his presence as my hand pressed against his tunic and I felt his abdomen underneath the fabric. He was such light and yet the darkness itself, drowning me in it as we sunk into a pool of ecstasy.

The cold stone floors were soon heated, as the temple grew humid and we both simultaneously agreed to take our tops off. It was the definition of multitasking, as I took off his armor and tunic, leaving behind a black pair of pants, and his boots. With the force he slipped my top off, gaining access to my collar bone and gracing it with his mouth. There was a possessive feeling in the air, as he took in my body for the first time with his own eyes as I did to him.

"You are so beautiful, it is intoxicating."

I felt myself smiling, sitting up and wrapping my arms around his neck, the both of us kissing deeply. This was it, holding our breath as we enjoyed one another, but the force was warning the both of us.

The temple shook, I almost forgot it was collapsing.

"We need to escape before we become trapped inside," Anakin said. "My ship is outside."

"And you assume I'm coming?"

"I know you are."

I laughed, acknowledging his foresight. We put on our clothes hurriedly yet thoroughly, as someone trained to handle life or death would. In truth, that was what we stood for, as Jedi and Sith both came together as one, in ways that would be frowned upon.

Except we didn't care.

We weren't denying it any longer.

Back in business since the recent Ahsoka episode. Hope you all enjoyed!

[leonw4nter]

could you do a fic for re4 leon where he and fem!reader are in a relationship (secret bc they can’t let the agency find out) they are on the spain mission together and luis starts flirting with her and its taking everything in leon for for him to not say “thats my girlfriend” or something like that?

sorry if this is specific i just thought of it in the middle of class

Music For Two People in A Secret Relationship

RE4R!Leon x F!Agent!Reader

Leon is a stickler for the rules. Well, he was– he made sure that he followed the rules he was made to obey, even when he didn’t exactly agree with them. One fine training day, you lunged at him with a combat knife, a deadly fire in your eyes and he felt the ground beneath him shift. He had to move and dodge away from the next offense, even if he wanted to give himself time to admire you. You moved like a panther, your gaze much more penetrating than the blade you held in a reverse saber grip; you embodied one too, light footfalls as you circled him before pouncing with your claws out towards the man in front of you. If giving in to the calling of his heart is a crime then he’d gladly be an outlaw.

Here he is now, dancing around the rules in order to be your boyfriend; twisting, bending, and extending his will to resist the temptation to hold your hand in the walls of the USSTRATCOM headquarters, proudly referring to you as “his” and for him to hear you call him “yours” towards colleagues and higher-ups. He had to settle for the tension-filled stares across the briefing room, the kinds of looks that set off sparks in his chest, and the electric accidental brushes of his finger against yours as he reaches for something.

Although Valdelobos is everything but idyllic, he’s thankful for the opportunity to be with you despite this decrepit village being another reminder of Raccoon City; he wouldn’t want to relive Raccoon City again but it’s less triggering for him because he’s with you … and a certain Spanish gentleman with a penchant of flirting with his girlfriend; he didn’t trust the man one bit but what choice did he have? The man held vital information regarding the villagers and Umbrella; a former scientist, Luis claimed. Despite him being a little different from the usual scientists behind BOWs, he seemed to know a lot regarding the cult and the parasite– Las Plagas. Charming and charismatic too, the perfect man all in all. He also served as the brains behind the group, oddly familiar with the puzzle mechanisms that the Los Illuminados employed.

Now, all of you were stuck in this misty baroque ballroom somewhere in Salazar’s palace. As soon as everyone was inside the room, the big wooden doors closed and several locks were heard clicking in place. Silence followed, Ashley huddled in the middle by you, Leon, and Luis’ bodies as you formed a protective circle. The fact that silence followed and not the groans and cultic chanting unsettled everyone, unused to this odd peace. After a few moments of guns being out, Luis’ Red 9 is holstered back into its brown leather confines.

“Do you smell that,” he softly whispers. “The rusty air. This ballroom was an old bastion for the Los Illuminados, held their sacrifices here but albeit more… morbid. Sacrifices were released like bulls in a bullpen, they all tried to escape while trying not to die on the way– had to escape booby traps and avoid stepping on the wrong tiles. There’s a lot more with the trap system they set up and they’re all elaborate.”

The atmosphere that hung over everyone was heavy and miserable now that Luis had to point out the history behind the room. No one stepped foot away from where they were standing, afraid to trigger something to fly out and impale someone.

“What ballroom is this,” Ashley asks.

“The Birdcage,” Luis responds. “La Jaula de Pájaros.”

“I’ve read somewhere about certain macabre ballrooms being connected to cult hide-outs and traps and usually, the ways to beat those traps is somehow connected to culture like dances and poems,” she begins to explain. “Basically, we might need to dance or make music to make it out alive for this one. Just like… just like a bird. Wait– this place’s name is ‘birdcage’ so we have to escape like birds by means of making music and moving around like how birds chirp and fly!”

“Make music? How exactly,” you ask.

“Rhythmic tapping might be one of them,” Luis suggests.

You look at the people around you, eyebrows meeting in the middle as their foreheads crease in focus and worry. Leon bent down and observed the ground, calloused fingers grazing over the cracked tiles. With each lengthy swipe of his finger, he noticed that the imprints on the ground had a pattern. He leaned closer to the ground and observed what looked like musical notes; he turned to the ground Ashley stood on and noted the same patterns of notes and symbols used.

“There’s musical notations on the ground, maybe we can use that for the rhythm of our tapping,” Leon informs the group. “Who here can read music–”

“I can,” you interrupt. You bend down, fingers skimming over the etching. After a few seconds of remembering which notes sounded a certain way, you get back up and relay the information you just got. You get everyone’s attention and start humming the tune before softly stomping your boots on the ground, asking everyone else to follow along to make sure that they remember the beat.

“Uh guys,” Ashley speaks up. “We have to start soon.”

She points to the ceiling, several ganados kept in cages dangling overhead. The ceilings may be high from where you all stood, but there was nothing separating your group and them. With a determined yet wary nod, you nod to Luis. He approaches you and bows, to which you respond with. He slowly places his hand on your waist, the other gently holding your gloved hand. You glance at Leon, seeing him do the same with Ashley with the placements of his hand in areas that don't make Ashley feel uncomfortable. You give Leon another nod, signifying the start of the dance. Your pair and Leon’s slowly drift to opposite parts of the room, dancing a fierce tango with rhythmic footfalls. You could dance but not in this way and you were lucky that Luis was there to guide you. In the drop of the beat, he spun you and for a quick moment you saw Leon glance at your direction before turning his gaze back to Ashley and making sure he doesn’t mess up his part and involve Ashley in whatever fuck-up he might make. You wouldn’t admit this to Luis but you wished that it was Leon who was spinning and dipping you, that it was the large hand of Leon’s that was perched on your waist. Maybe you’d like to go dancing with Leon once this shit is all over, maybe invite Luis too but you’ll spend most of the evening slow dancing with Leon when you’ve both had one too many drinks. You knew that Leon felt the same based on the gawking Leon unintentionally does, those types of gawks that once you blink, you’d miss and assume that you were just seeing things differently. As much as Leon admitted that Luis was a gifted dancer to his standards, he wished that he could just swoop in and swing you around, to feel your hand around his neck and for you to gaze up dreamily at you when he dips your body. It doesn’t take long for you to get into the dance, the twirls and spins along with the echo of the taps of shoes helping you get into the feel of dancing even though this dance could very much determine whether or not everyone will make it out of this ballroom.

After a few minutes of dancing, all of you finish the beat and you hear a faint click. The eyes and mouth of a tarnished Tarasca statue moves, its neck opening to reveal an ornate conical capsule. Hastily, you run to the statue and take the capsule and twist it open. An intricate copper key falls out.

“We might be able to get out of this,” Leon points out. Hurriedly, he runs to the doors and inserts the piece of metal to the keyhole.

“Careful, Sancho. This thing is brittle,” Luis reminds him. “All that dancing will be for nothing if the key snaps while it’s inside!”

“I know what I’m doing,” your partner seethes.

The faint sound of the door lock’s mechanisms clicking to unlock causes everyone to breathe a sigh of relief, Leon pushing the doors open to let everyone out before himself. You mouth a small thank you to him, to which he responds with a small smile. He finally gets out and urges everyone to run, since the cages holding the ganados were being lowered. After a few minutes, everyone is now out of the palace. All of you stop by the ruins of an old stone house, sinking to the ground to catch your breath.

“Hah… D-didn’t know… hah… you looked lovely in pink,” Luis points out with a tired yet smug smirk bringing a finger up to motion to the flush in your cheeks. “Etérea.”

The Spaniard doesn’t miss the way the blond’s gaze slightly darkens, moving to you as he places a hand on your back as you still catch your breath. You look at Leon as he asks if you’re okay, to which you give him a small smile and a thumbs-up. Leon withdraws his hand from your back to radio back to Hunnigan, giving her information on where you just came from and how everyone’s doing. Since you managed to catch your breath, you check on Ashley who’s doing a lot better now. You offer her the remaining water in your flask, to which she gulped down audibly.

“Water never tasted so divine, holy crap,” she exclaimed as she handed you your flask back.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Since you and Leon were unsure of the safety of the area, you decided that it would be best for you to start moving somewhere less dangerous. Ashley was growing tired, grumbling about her feet hurting but she was still soldering on, walking without breaks. Luis’ chatter made the trip less boring, occasionally talking to Ashley and then flirting with you. After seeing Leon’s subtle reaction to him complimenting your flushed cheeks after running, the cheeky side of Luis decided to flirt with you some more to see how far he can push the reserved and stoic man.

“Hey,” Luis begins. “After all this, what do you say to a little Spanish countryside getaway? You and me.”

“Sounds nice,” you say. “But I’ve got a little night out scheduled with someone when I get back.”

“You aren’t exactly saying ‘no’.”

“I’m going to have to confirm this with my boyfriend. You’re a chill man but I still have to let my man know.”

Luis simply chuckles, his steps slowing down so he’ll fall in step with Leon who is busy craning his head here and there, trying to spot any threat before a possible threat spots you. Well, this is only half true. As soon as he heard Luis proposing the future prospect of him showing off the Spanish countryside to you, he forced himself to pay attention to something else other than the fact that you’re smiling and laughing softly at the Spaniard. The agent brushes whatever he heard off, knowing that his girlfriend loves him and only him but the fact that he can’t do much, especially that their relationship isn’t exactly encouraged at their agency and the fact that they’re both at work; he’s relieved that you aren’t returning his flirting. All he can afford to do is to ask if you’re fine by masking it behind the simple concern for a coworker and nothing more. 

“How’re you holding up, Sancho Panza,” Luis whispers to which Leon responds with silence.

“Ah, I think I know why you’re silent,” the chatty man beside him observes. “It’s because… you like her!”

Leon stops in his tracks and looks at Luis with a slightly baffled expression, head tilted with his eyes slightly squinted before proceeding to walk again, the squelch of his boots against mud resuming again.

“I know just the remedy to this, Leon,” Luis excitedly begins, lowering his voice just before he continues the rest of his sentence. “Y’know, I know a nice bar somewhere in Madrid. Good drinks, good music. I’m sure she’d love it there.”

Leon stays silent again but mentally notes the ‘good drinks, good music’. It would be nice to take her somewhere upbeat.

“But if that’s getting a bit too ahead of our current predicament then you can offer to tend to her wounds, best done in the evening when the night is cold and the fire is the only thing keeping us warm. It’s a sincere tender moment, just imagine it: you, her, and the rustling of trees. She–”

“She’s my girlfriend. I’ve done plenty of that and more so she’d go out with me,” Leon interrupts.

Luis freezes on the spot, eyes the size of golf balls, with his mouth ajar. Leon simply smirks and scoffs at the sight, trudging on. After a few moments, Luis comes rushing back to him. Luis is just staring at him, going off at him in Spanish while he just continues walking and tries to hide a smug grin. Luis wraps up on whatever he was saying, now staring back and forth at you and him before walking a little faster to join you and Ashley several steps ahead. The usual cocky expression makes its way back to Luis’ face, shooting you and Leon a knowing look now before chuckling along. Moments later, Leon decides to speed up walking to be able to catch up with everyone. He hears Ashley and Luis exchanging jokes with you occasionally laughing and butting in with your own. Out of the blue, Leon nonchalantly wraps an arm around your waist, much to Luis and Ashley’s shock.

“Ash, don’t tell HQ about this,” you whisper with a wicked grin before getting on your tiptoes and planting a kiss on Leon's cheek.

NOTE - Thanks to the lovely anon that requested this, I hope you enjoyed reading this :) I had a lot more fun writing this since I had to think a little more than I usually do when I write (if it makes sense), especially for the ballroom part of the fic. I'll try to write for other versions of Leon soon since I mostly write about RE2 Leon. Also, does anyone know the manga 'Veil' ?? I've recently (yesterday) got into it and now I'm hoping that physical copies are being sold where I live... Aleksander is cute I'll say that (I NEED AN ALEKSANDER IN MY LIFE IM SO ALONE AND SINGLE RIGHT NOW- SINGLE SINCE BIRTH EVEN). Anyways, that's it and thank you soo much for reading my fics!! I <3333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The dividers are made by @benkeibear , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).