#i did have to take his crown away in order to make it work. but i consider it a pro because by god that thing is a beast to draw

[galarfiend]

simon you have to draw volo in his titma suit again. its what the universe wants its what he would want

very well then

this time with even more thigh

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello again everyone! Since the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au won the continuation poll, here's part 2!

NOTE: Part 1 can be found here!

EDIT: Part 3 can be found here!

As a quick recap of this au, during the season 4 finale Merlin was caught by Morgana while trying to plant the burning doll curse that would temporarily lock away her powers, and they have a magic battle that ends with both Morgana and her army slain. Merlin thought that no one saw what happened, but Camelot's lords who serve on the council secretly saw everything. So, when Arthur storms Camelot, ready to take back his throne, he's met with the news that Morgana's already dead and a new sorcerer has claimed the throne of Camelot through the right of conquest, and the lords have unanimously agreed to make this powerful sorcerer king in order to appease him. To everyone's shock, Geoffrey then puts the crown of Camelot on Merlin's head, and Merlin promptly passes out.

And now, onto the new stuff!

When Merlin finally woke up, he jolted awake with a start, frightened by what must have been a terrible nightmare! And truly, it was one of the most horrifying scenarios Merlin's sleeping mind had ever conjured to torture himself with: everyone finding out about his magic, Arthur thinking that Merlin betrayed him, and unintentionally stealing Arthur's kingship!

If the idea wasn't so frightening, Merlin would almost laugh at the absurdity of it: Merlin, king of Camelot! What nonsense! Merlin was Emrys, the other side of the coin to the king; he was certainly never meant to be king himself.

Still, the idea gave Merlin a slight chuckle as he climbed out of his bed and changed into his usual clothes, the soft light of the dawn flittering in through his window. Thank every god out there that his outfit didn't involve a crown!

After he finished tying his neckerchief and pulling on his boots, Merlin opened the door into the main area of Gaius's chambers, ready to eat a quick breakfast with Gaius before collecting Arthur's breakfast and starting his work for the day.

Stepping out into the main chamber, he couldn't find Gaius anywhere, but that wasn't too unusual, given how busy Gaius could be with sudden injuries or illnesses popping up in the lower town at all hours of the night. Humming a bit to himself, Merlin began fixing himself a small bowl of porridge in the chamber's cooking pot, making sure to leave an extra portion for Gaius whenever he returned from his duties.

Merlin ate his breakfast quickly, enjoying the birdsong outside and the beautiful sunrise. Yes, this was exactly what he needed to wash away the awful ideas that his nightmare had conjured up.

After cleaning up their dining table, Merlin made his way towards the door, ready go about his day and do his job as a manservant to moderately acceptable standards! Besides, on the heels of Morgana's invasion, Arthur would need a supportive friend far more than a manservant today.

As Merlin opened the door from Gaius's chambers, however, something was conspicuously different. Namely, the fact that there were two armed guards standing on either side of the door, standing with their backs to the door.

The two guards stiffened and stood at attention as soon as he opened the door, uncrossing their polearms so that they would not be blocking his path as he left Gaius's chambers. Merlin froze at the sight of the guards, staring at their backs. What... what was going on?

"Is... is everything alright? What's this about?"

Was it just him, or did the two guards somehow stiffen up even more at Merlin's words?

After a tense beat of silence, one of the guards cleared his throat and replied, "We were assigned to stand guard over these chambers."

Merlin's brows furrowed with confusion for a moment before he figured out what must have happened, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh, I see! Arthur must have increased security around the castle since Morgana's latest attack. I'm not sure why he considers the physician's quarters to be a potential target, but I'll ask him about it later. Well, I'd better get going or else I'll be late to wake the prat up. Say hello to Gaius for me when he gets back!"

The guards looks confused at his words and opened their mouths to call something out to Merlin, but Merlin was already down the stairs and halfway down the hall before either of them could blink.

Merlin got a lot more strange stares than usual today as he made his way towards the kitchens, with many people outright stopping to gawk at him as he passed. Did he have something odd stuck to his hair or something?

Merlin shrugged off the strange stares for now. He'd have time to look in a mirror and figure out what was so odd about how he looked later, after Arthur had eaten and gotten dressed.

Merlin was still a few minutes away from the kitchens when a caped figure emerged from a servant's passageway and barreled into him, drawing him into a sudden hug. Instinctively, Merlin tensed up at the perceived attack, but he quickly relaxed at the familiar smell of ale and apples that surrounded his laughing "attacker".

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you, Merls!"

Merlin sighed with both relief at seeing his friend in one piece and in high spirits, but also is exasperation.

"Gwaine, I'm very glad to see you again, but what are you doing here? You just spent a week in captivity under Morgana, you're supposed to be resting and recovering, not ambushing unsuspecting servants!"

Gwaine pulled back at Merlin's words, wearing a look of confusion as he studied Merlin's face.

"Ah, but I'm not ambushing a servant, am I?"

"Yes, yes, you're ambushing your friend, since friendship gives you more rights to pull stunts like this and give me more reason to worry over your health."

At that, Gwaine's face pulled into an outright frown, a rare sight to see on the perpetually-grinning knight. Merlin shifted around a bit nervously, unsure of what exactly was happening. Finally, Gwaine spoke again, this time very slowly and gently, as if he was trying to calm down a spooked horse.

"Merlin, what do you remember from yesterday? What was the last thing you remember before falling asleep?"

This time, it was Merlin's turn to frown in confusion at Gwaine's odd questions. What did any of that matter?

"Well, I suppose the last thing I remember was... was storming into the throne room with Arthur and Gwen and being informed of Morgana's death anything after that... I don't quite recall."

He must have hit his head or something after that point, because everything after that was what happened in his nightmare, and there was no way any of that was real. Right?

Merlin watched as Gwaine's frown pulled into a strained smile, his confusion only growing. What was Gwaine so nervous about?

"Well, Merls," Gwaine began, slinging an arm around Merlin's shoulders as he started to lead Merlin away from the kitchens, "a lot happened in between then and now, including some great news!"

Gwaine turned to face Merlin, his smile genuine and mischievous this time, and Merlin knew that grin. That was the grin Gwaine wore right before he was about to get himself into some trouble for a noble cause but would hide it under the guise of "fun".

Merlin sighed deeply, not awake enough to deal Gwaine's antics, even if they was coming from a good place.

"Alright, what's this news of yours?"

If it was possible, Gwaine's mischievous grin grew wider.

"For starters, I got a promotion!"

Merlin stopped in his tracks with shock, halting their walk to... wherever Gwaine was leading him.

"A promotion?! How? Why? What's your new title? Will you be leading other knights?"

Gwaine just shook his head, his hair whipping around and smile still present on his face. He started leading Merlin again as he answered Merlin's questions.

"I know, I had hardly believe it myself! But I took some initiative when it really mattered, and I landed myself this new job! It's not really a leadership role, but I might be leading some knights, and probably some guards too!"

Gwaine finally started to slow their march down as they reached what Merlin assumed was their destination: the doors to the main throne room, where Arthur took his audiences.

As Gwaine stopped before the doors, he turned to look at Merlin again, his smile still bright, but his eyes, Merlin noticed, growing strained again, like there was something greatly troubling him.

"You still haven't told me what this new job actually is though."

This time, Gwaine's smile faltered a bit, and Merlin knew at once that this new job was what was causing Gwaine so much inner turmoil. What job could possibly give Gwaine of all people so much stress?

"Ah, silly me, how could I forget! You'll want to hold onto something before I tell you this, because this will blow you away my friend! I got promoted..."

Gwaine leaned in close, almost like he was about to share a secret with Merlin. Merlin leaned in as well, curious about what position Gwaine's surprising promotion had been to.

"to the king's official bodyguard!" Gwaine revealed in a stage whisper, playing the moment up for dramatic effect in a very Gwaine-like manner.

Merlin jerked backwards in surprise, startled by such unexpected news, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Arthur did seem to be stepping up security in the aftermath of Morgana's latest invasion, so it made sense for him to appoint a loyal and trusted knight to look after Arthur's own safety.

Merlin was strangely pleased with Arthur's decision on this. Arthur was finally prioritizing his own safety, and he had picked a great knight for the job! This might make Merlin's own secret job of protecting Arthur much easier! Gwaine would certainly take any of Merlin's warnings of danger to Arthur seriously, and he trusted Merlin enough that he wouldn't question where Merlin got any of his information.

Merlin smiled back at his friend, happy about both this new opportunity for his friend and about the changes it would bring. Yes, this was great!

"That's amazing Gwaine! Do you want to stop by the tavern tonight to celebrate?"

Gwaine laughed a bit at that, still looking oddly tense. For some unknown reason, apprehension started pooling in Merlin's stomach, telling him that something wasn't right here. No, there was something else going on.

"Thanks for the offer mate, but I'm afraid that it wouldn't be a good look for me to be seen drinking on my first night on the job. Besides, I have a feeling that you'll be a little busy this evening too."

Merlin's confusion only grew with each passing second.

"What do you mean by that?"

Gwaine didn't answer him, only giving Merlin a small, almost sad smile. It looked disturbingly out of place on the boisterous Gwaine, ratchetting Merlin's confusion and dread up even further.

Without another word, Gwaine turned and opened the doors to the throne room, revealing the entire council of lords congregated within, giving Merlin rather violent flashbacks to his nightmare.

No, no, nothing as disastrous as Merlin being publicly announced as a sorcerer and then getting crowned king in front of Arthur and Gwen could ever happen in real life. It was simply too absurd.

Merlin watched, frozen at the threshold of the room, as the lords' heads all turned towards the door at the sound of it swinging open. To Merlin's rising dread, they all rose from their seats at the sight of him.

No no no no....

Merlin frantically looked around, hoping to all of the gods of the Old Religion that Arthur was somewhere nearby, because the council only rose for the entrance of the king...

Merlin turned around, hoping to find Arthur standing around somewhere, anywhere, as dread began closing its claws around his heart, which was beating at the rating that Merlin would be concerned about if he could process anything other than his own all-consuming terror at that moment.

Because it wasn't a nightmare, was it? No, that was real. His worst fears had come to life in the most horrifying way possible, and he was powerless to stop it now.

If the lords of the council noticed Merlin's frantic terror, they didn't acknowledge it. Instead, apparently, they decided to only confirm Merlin's deepest fears. After a tense moment of utter silence in the room, broken only by Merlin's jagged breathing, Geoffrey finally stepped forward.

"Ah, welcome Your Majesty! I hope you're feeling better now after you've rested and recovered from your battle against Morgana. There is much to discuss concerning these first crucial days of your reign, including your public coronation, having all knights who are willing to renounce the Pendragon line swear their fealty to you, and determining the fates of those who already refuse to accept your rule."

For what felt like an eternity, Merlin simply stood there, his mind refusing to cooperate or even process what he was being told. He couldn't move a single muscle in his body, paralyzed by horror. He was only snapped out of his fugue state by Gwaine taking ahold of his arm and guiding him towards the table.

Inhaling sharply as he was pushed by Gwaine closer to the lords, he finally processed what Geoffrey had told him. Oh gods, a coronation?! So all of Arthur's kingdom could see how he had stolen Arthur's throne?! Forcing knights to turn their backs on Arthur and renounce their loyalty to him?! This was madness and, not to mention, the exact opposite of what Merlin wanted!

And what was that about punishing people for refusing to accept him as king? Hell, Merlin should reward the dissenters if anything, since they were apparently the only ones who still had any good sense left in this kingdom! Who in their right mind would immediately accept Merlin as their king anyway?!

Right, Merlin thought as his eyes wandered over the faces of the lords, spineless cowards with no loyalty who would turn their backs on their true king to save their own hides, that's who.

Well, the applied to the lords at least, but that still didn't explain what Gwaine was doing here, by Merlin's side, when he should be with Arthur and the other knights!

... Where were Arthur and the other knights?

A jolt of fear once again shot through Merlin, this time alongside guilt. Where was Arthur? What had happened to him? The council had foolishly stripped him of his title, and then what?

Clearing his dry throat, Merlin finally responded, "Geoffrey, what happened after I lost consciousness yesterday? Where is Arthur?"

After Merlin was finished speaking, the lords started shifting around nervously, which began to set of warning bells in Merlin's mind.

Something had happened after he fainted yesterday. Something that involved Arthur.

"Well, Your Majesty, following your loss of consciousness yesterday, the former King Arthur lost his temper and began yelling, shouting everything from accusing us of lies and treason to cursing out the sacred laws of the land. He then ran throughout the castle and began calling upon his knights for aid, explaining the situation to them in crude terms and demanding that they take back the crown from you by force."

Merlin grimaced at Geoffrey's monotone explanation, horrific visions of Arthur calling for his execution as a sorcerer and traitor running through his mind.

"Many of Arthur's knights rallied to his cause, but there were some who were hesitant to turn their blades against you, no doubt recognizing your power and your true claim to the throne. It was from that group that your loyal Sir Gwaine arose, leading a small group of knights and guards in a surprise attack that concluded with the former king and his knights locked in the dungeon cells, awaiting your judgement."

Merlin eyes flew wide at Geoffrey's words, his heading whipping around to meet Gwaine's gaze. Gwaine had betrayed Arthur in such a terrible way? For him?

In response to Merlin's horrified stare, Gwaine simply gave him his most innocent smile, as if nothing was wrong at all and Merlin's world wasn't crumbling around him.

No, this wasn't happening. Merlin had to fix this, and he had to fix it now.

"Look, Geoffrey, I am honored that you and the other lords feel so strongly that I am supposed to be Camelot's king, but that is not meant to be. I was never meant to rule over anything. This is Arthur's kingdom, and I will not be the one to take it from him."

All of the lords around the table look utterly confused, as if Merlin was speaking a completely different language. That was expected, Merlin supposed, if they had never seen anyone willingly give up power. Gwaine, however, just looked amused, like he knew that this was exactly what would happen.

"While that is a most gracious sentiment Your Majesty, I'm afraid that it isn't that simple."

Merlin groaned at Geoffrey's words, bemoaning the fact that the world could never let anything in his life be simple.

"Shouldn't it be?! I'm apparently the king now, so I order you to release Arthur and the knights from the dungeons and to give Arthur his kingship back!"

This time, it was Geoffrey's turn to sigh deeply, as the old man pulled a rather hefty- and dusty- scroll from his bag.

"This," Geoffrey began as he unrolled the yellowed parchment, "is Bruta's code, written by the Great King himself. This set of laws are the foundation on which all of the five kingdoms are governed, and Camelot is no exception. All kings of this Isle, no matter how powerful, are subject to these laws, lest the entire realm fall into anarchy."

Merlin was valiantly holding back the urge to bash his head into the council table. Why couldn't he clear this situation up as painlessly as possible?!

"The code addresses many subjects, and both the right of conquest and the rules of succession are outlined within. I'm terribly sorry Your Majesty, but the code clearly states that when a king who is not of royal blood ascends to the throne through the right of conquest, the previous royal family loses any and all claim to the throne, alongside their lands and wealth, essentially leaving them with no titles or claim to nobility at all. This measure was originally put in place to ban the defeated family from endlessly challenging the victor of the conquest in a bid to regain their former throne and wasting the new ruler's precious time."

Merlin's heart dropped even more at Geoffrey's words. Great, he had not only stolen Arthur's kingdom, but he had also stolen everything Arthur owned! Gods, what did Arthur hate Merlin more for at the moment, being a secret powerful sorcerer ever since they met or inadvertently stripping him of his title, lands, and all his possessions?

"I still don't see why this would forbid me from freely giving Arthur the throne back."

"Your Majesty, the former king is no longer a noble, as the Pendragon line is no longer recognized as a noble house. As such, Arthur is now, by law, a peasant, and it is against Bruta's code for a ruler to cede their throne to anyone but a noble for any period of time."

Merlin bit back a frustrated scream. Why, why?! Why couldn't he just make Arthur a noble again and be done with this farce and-

Wait a minute.

There was a way to make Arthur a noble.

Oh no, Arthur was going to hate this. But, Merlin steeled himself, this was the only way to make things right.

And that's all for now! I had a lot of fun making Gwaine the ultimate "ride or die" bestie for Merlin in this situation lol! I'll definitely be doing a part three of this au soon to resolve this cliffhanger!

Please let me know what you all thought of this continuation!

A huge thank you to everyone who supported my last au post and asked for this continuation! I'll try to tag you all here, my apologies if I missed anyone!

@cookie-player , @miyriu , @nebulousconstellationwriter , @insane-multifandom-brainrot , @elementalpirate4 ,

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms , @gaiussleechtank , @arrowlovesdragons , @lordmushroomkat , @bucketheadpunk14 ,

@retro-wallflower , @ryeallytired , @verxen , @mind-of-a-crow , @aostrek-236 ,

@thedragonkinproject , @orliththedragon , @theroundbartable , @my-own-quiet-corner , @tireddruid ,

@coffee-shop-gay , @sable-nakahara , @deadhotpocket , @bennedict , @samwinjester ,

@linotheghost , @aerismoon , @merthurogies , @ahumoki0 , @chairwiththreelegs ,

@achillesuwu , @pancakesandpigs , @the-king-and-the-druidess , @sugar-coated-prat-dragon , @isaidno ,

@justaz , @auldsusie

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

EDIT: A question for those of you I'm tagging, I'm not sure if this is a tumblr issue or if I'm screwing something up on my end, but after the first few tagged blogs, it shows up on my screen like the tags are just plain text and not linked to anything. So, for those of you that are tagged, can you confirm that you're getting a notification when I tag you? I want to make sure everyone who requested a continuation knows when it's posted!

2nd EDIT: I've tried to fix the tag problem, I'm very sorry if you already saw this post and then got a notification!

[x3luvr]

Doctors Orders —

Trafalgar Law x Reader

(Established Relationship, Slightly Suggestive, Fluff)

“Law, I feel sick.” Your unusually frail frame entered the captain’s lab, as you shifted his attention away from the medical books he was absorbed in. The dark haired man eyed your appearance, noting for any visible differences before getting up and placing a hand on your forehead.

“Hm.” He noted to himself as his expression appeared focused and calculating. “You should sit down.” Law gestured at the patients bed whilst keeping a firm grip on your arm to prevent you from stumbling.

As you waited for your lover, you observed him at work. The way his white doctor’s coat swayed, the way his long lashes batted at the countless medicines in his cabinet, and the way his touch was piercing cold as he examined your body.

“Love, you’ll have to take a blood test.” Law lifted your sleeve, gently caressing your skin in the process.

“No way, you know those freak me out.” You pulled away from his touch, watching a sigh escape his lips before a hand reached out to rub the side of your shoulder.

“I know, but your health is more important right now.” He softly replied, making a good point considering the sickly state you were in. And so, with some convincing you raised your sleeve and shut your eyes.

“Please make it quick!” You pleaded, as the sensation of your skin being pierced and blood being extracted made you woozy. You couldn’t help but tug at his coat, which caused a chain of sweet words to slip from his mouth.

“You’re fine sweetheart, almost done, you’re doing well.” Law swiftly patched you up before placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

As the pair of you waited for the blood sample results, a small smile perked at the corner of your lips. After all, your loving boyfriend went through all this trouble for you, it wouldn’t be fair if he didn’t get anything in return. Not that he’d ever expect anything.

“Law, c'mere.” You playfully gestured. Attempting to ignore the fatigue currently consuming your body. As he stood before you, your fingers began brushing along his features. Up his neck, across his jaw and against his lips. “What would I do without you?” You whispered, just loud enough to reach his senses.

Law didn’t refrain from your intimate touches. So when you brought him in for a kiss, he reciprocated by leaning further into you, placing one of his tattooed hands on your thigh and the other on the small of your back. His lips against yours with the occasional slip of the tongue formed lust in the air. However, as your legs caged his waist and his hands slipped lower and lower down, the Captain unexpectedly pulled away.

“You’re unwell love, this can wait for another time.” Law spoke, catching his breath in the process. You frowned at him, evidently disappointed. Yet deep inside, you didn’t expect a simple kiss to get as heated as it did.

“You killed my high just then.” You crossed your arms, watching him go over the results of your blood test before shoving a series of pills in your direction.

“Yeah? Well you might actually die considering how low your iron and magnesium levels are.” The dark haired man spoke with disapproval lacing his tone. “Seriously, you need to take better care of yourself.”

It was evident how much Law cherished you, especially when he’d go on long tangents about the importance of staying healthy and blah blah blah..

You finally stood up, cutting your lover off mid sentence by throwing your arms over his neck and smoothing his face full of kisses. “Sorry doc, won’t happen again.” You grinned at his taken aback expression.

“Yeah.. yeah.” He mumbled, averting his gaze from meeting yours. “And about earlier, I’ll make it up to you, so you better start taking your meds now.” A tint of blush formed on Law’s face, before he fled the scene by clearing his throat and excusing himself.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Summoning Game Show Part 6

Masterpost

“You had me going for a bit there, but that was pretty good.” Danny admits, clearing the screen away. “How come you know so much about space?”

“Learned some of it in school.” Red replies, hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “I do some work in the sciences now, engineering, and I’ve actually had to go to space a few times for the gig.” The hand lowers as he shrugs. “ Plus, I just like to know things.”

Danny has stars in his eyes now. “You’ve been to space?”

“Oh. Well yeah, I’ve had a few missions. Miss Martian has a ship that the team took.”

Danny’s expression light up even more and Red looks back at his brothers in confusion. “You know a Martian?” It was whispered in awe, Red could barely hear it, but he nods in response. 

They stand there for a minute, Danny just staring at Red in some mix of amazement and awe before he shakes himself out of it. 

“Right! Well, that’s awesome.” Danny nods to himself and then forcibly turns to face the screen and changes the subject. “Last thing then! You get a letter for the puzzle!” 

The puzzle appeared on the screen again with a wave of Danny’s hand.

“ I would like H, please.” Red Robin states.

“What a fantastic guess, there are three H’s!” Danny is trying to resign himself to the fact that he’ll actually have to deal with being King after this. Red was super smart, he doesn’t think he’s going to get out of it at this point.

“Alright, that’s all the letters you will be getting. Before you take a guess at the answer, I am required to tell you that it is a Proper Noun. Please decide who among you will be solving the puzzle.

Red turns to face his brothers but they all just wave him off, motioning for him to go for it. “That’s me, I guess.” He shrugs, turning back to Danny.

Danny nods “Okay, all you have to do in order to meet the Ghost King is solve two puzzles! First the word puzzle, you have 30 seconds.”

A timer starts counting down on the top left of the screen. 

Red mouths words to himself for 10 seconds, then asks, “High King Phantom?” 

More confetti appears on the screen as the solved puzzle appears.

Danny makes a weird face. “That’s correct!” 

There is a lot of clapping and laughing coming from the ghosts in the stands, but it stops when Danny shoots them a glare.

“Alright, last thing.” The podiums disappear and Red steps back towards his family. “The king has been here the whole time, and you will get your meeting with him, as soon as you identify him. You have one guess.” 

Hood, Robin, and Nightwing all turn to each other to start whispering, but Red just tilts his head at Danny.

“Well, It’s you isn’t it?” Red asks and his brothers all turn back to stare at him. Danny tilts his head in response. “Well you were the first one here, so you’re the only one that’s been here the entire time. And you’ve been running the show, everyone has listened to you. Also, your shirt has a P on it, inside the D, but I figure that if the D stands for Danny, then the P would have to be Phantom.” 

Danny just leans back and groans.

When Danny straightens back as his outfit starts to change, he gains a crown and a cape, his ears turn more pointed and he has fangs now. “So what did you want with me? Is it healthcare? Because we do have a doctor that Hood could see.”

“A doctor?” Hood questions.

“Oh geez you don’t even know do you?” Danny starts rubbing his forehead. “Well, you’ve got to get that taken care of, it’s stunting your core development.”

“ Get what taken care of?”

Danny sputters. “The ectoplasm?!” He waves his arms in Hood’s direction. “It's so old and stagnant and worn out and your core isn’t old enough to make its own ectoplasm yet, so you should really supplement until your core finishes.”

Danny can see that none of them know what he’s talking about and he just shakes his head. “I can’t believe you don’t even know. Haven’t there been mood changes, random bursts of emotions, followed by sluggishness? Aren’t you tired?” 

Now everyone is looking at Hood who grumbles. “Well, yeah. But that’s been happening since I died.”

Danny nods as if that makes perfect sense and Dick really would like an explanation. Red and Robin are also just nodding, having noticed the mood swings themselves.

“Relatable, but condolences. Anyways, we could help with that, but I take it that wasn’t why you tried to summon me, so what did you actually want?”

“Nothing that is more important than Hood’s health, if you can help him.” Nightwing interjects.

“Oh. Well, technically you won, so you have the right to an audience to at least ask for whatever else you wanted.” Danny turns and waves in the direction of the stand, motioning someone down. “But If Hood would like to forfeit his right to the audience, he could have a checkup with Frostbite while we meet?”

Hood nods. “I’ll do that. This… Frostbite will be able to explain?” 

“Probably better than I could!” Danny says cheerily as he turns to the Yeti heading towards them. “Frostbite, Hood here needs a checkup, if you could help him correct the malnutrition so his core can grow.” 

Frostbite nods, “You can come with me, Sir.” 

“Bring him back here when you guys are done!” Danny shouts after them as Frostbite leads Hood away. “Now, you guys can come follow me and we’ll sit and talk.”

[moonsgemini]

dress - rafe cameron

summary: she’ll always wish she could enjoy the midsummer’s celebrations instead of working at it, but her secret moments with the kook prince make the bad tips worth it

warnings: rafe x pogue!reader, typical classist stuff but not from rafe, fluff, angst, mutual pining, alcohol, kissing

wc: 3.5k

an: this is based off of dress by taylor swift but my own interpretation of it I guess. If you guys want a pt. 2 with smut let me knoooow, I’m such a s!ut for rafe cameron pleaaaase

our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you

Midsummer was probably her least favorite day of summer. You’d think that being a bartender on the day that the whole figure eight came to the country club would bring in lots of tips right? Well wrong. During midsummer’s the drinks were complimentary and there was just a tip jar for cash tips. Kooks don’t usually carry around cash, or really tip for that matter. Also seeing all the kooks dressed in their pretty dresses and cute flower crowns made y/n go green with jealousy. She desperately wished she could attend as a guest and get to dress up and enjoy the food. Y/n would be dreading this shift if she didn’t have something to look forward to.

She had looked over herself in the mirror a million times, making sure her dress still looked as good on her as it did in the dressing room mirror yesterday. The tag was securely tucked into her side because she may have run up her credit card to be able to afford it so she had to return it after. Bartenders didn’t have as strict as a uniform as the waiters did. Her manager allowing them to wear black dresses for the night, and of course she was going to jump at the opportunity to wear something nicer than her boxy polo uniform and tennis skirt.

Her makeup and hair had been done to the best of her ability, without it seeming like she was trying too hard. Y/n would never admit to any of her friends or family that she was dressed up in order to impress a certain kook prince. The same kook prince she had spent months crushing on, and he never helped make the crush go away because he would shamelessly flirt with her every time he was at the country club. It was more like banter, she had a feeling he never really meant anything he said. But it felt so good to feel wanted.

When Rafe would see her around the outer banks he would smirk at her or give her a nod as to say hi. At parties sometimes he’d go up to her and make some small conversation. Teasing her about what drink she had or making sure that she didn’t give her number to that guy that was flirting with her. They’d be making conversation and she would take a step towards him wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms and his scent. But then her friends would come and think they were saving her from the kook prince and pull her away, sending a glare Rafe’s way. She’s look back at him apologetically and he’d just give her a tight lipped smile and walk to the other side of the party.

Rafe really liked her, he liked making her laugh and smile. He wished he could make her quit her job and just come live with him, he’d take care of her. She’d never have to worry about bills or rent ever again. His friends always made fun of him for flirting with a pogue but he didn’t care. They’d say he was scraping the bottom of the barrel, that he had already gone through all the girls from figure eight so now he was entertaining a pogue. Rafe never let them get away with their jokes. He’d glare at them and punch them in the arm or kick them in the shin. He’d defend her honor saying she’s different and she’s a better friend than they’ll ever be.

All Rafe could do was think about her while he was getting ready. He knew she’d be there and he wanted to look extra nice. Tonight felt like the night he would actually ask her out. Y/n was a good listener, she was always there for him. At first he thought it was just because she was stuck behind the bar so she had to listen to him, but then he’d see her at parties and she still had that look in her eyes. That look that she was listening to him, actually listening to him. He felt like he was on a cloud with the way she looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

When she arrived to the country club she started getting all her things ready, the guests would start arriving in a few minutes. Stocking up on scotch and the best wines, she knew those would be the popular drinks tonight. As she worked diligently her mind wandered to Rafe, like it always did.

She wondered if he’d be the same as always despite his family being here. She wanted nothing more than to spend the night with him, but not while she served him drinks. She wanted to dance with him and drink with him, and then go home together at the end of the night.

Guests had started arriving, her eyes looking out for the dirty blonde. She was so excited and a bit anxious to see him all dressed up, knowing he’d look extra handsome. An hour had passed and she still hadn’t seen him. The country club was now filled with kooks and her tip jar only filled with about $20 when she’s certain she’s made twenty martinis and poured just as many scotch’s.

As she was handing Mrs.Weatherby her glass of merlot smiling at the older woman her eyes caught her favorite blue ones. Rafe stood across the room with Kelce and Topper. He wasn’t paying any attention to what Topper was saying as he watching y/n from across the room. When their eyes met a lopsided smile formed on his lips. Her cheeks felt hot as he looked her up and down, as much as he could despite the bar being in the way.

Y/n begged with her eyes for him to come over, to save her from the boring night. He knew her better than she thought as he started walking over, saying something to the guys that he’d be back. But as he was crossing the room his dad stepped in front of him.

Ward put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Rafe please, don’t start drinking yet. This is supposed to be a nice night okay? Lets take it slow.” He turned him around to walk out toward the patio.

“Yeah sure dad.” He muttered not wanting to make a scene. He followed him out but looked behind him to catch the eyes of the girl he was infatuated with.

His heart sank a little as he saw her bright eyes dull a little with sadness. She tried her best to put on a smile and not show her disappointment but he knew her better than she thought. Ward had no idea of Rafe’s crush and even if he did he probably wouldn’t care. He’d probably be disappointed in his son for liking someone like her, then he’d tell him that she probably only wants him for his trust.

all of this silence & patience, pining & anticipating, my hands are shaking from holding back from you

The first few hours of the night their eyes just met, hers pleading him to come over and talk to her. Give her something to think about tonight before she went to bed. His eyes begged her to forgive him for not giving her the attention she deserved, especially in that dress. He hoped that she wore it just for him, it made her look ethereal. Rafe’s legs ached from trying to stop himself from walking over and kissing her with everything he had.

As the night went on she was always on his mind. He hated this stupid midsummer’s stuff, mostly because he couldn’t share it with the one person he wanted. It was filled with snobby people and teenager’s getting drunk on booze they had snuck in.

Rafe kept getting stuck in conversations with his dad’s colleagues, Ward wanting him to be more involved in the business. Or he’d be with Topper, Kelce, and some other guys having a meaningless conversation about lacrosse or surfing. Whenever he got the chance he’d look over at her and she’d have a smile on her face handing some old dude a drink. He knew it wasn’t her real smile, then her eyes would look over at him and that’s when her real smile would come out.

“Uh I’m gonna get a drink,” Rafe said trying to excuse himself from his friends. His dad would be fine with him having a drink now, it’s been three hours since the night started. Three hours of his fingers tingling with the want of tucking that hair that kept falling in her face behind her ear.

“I’ll go with you dude. I need a refill,” Topper said holding up his empty glass. Rafe held in the urge to roll his eyes, he wanted to go alone.

y/n was wiping down the bar when they approached. She looked up meeting eyes with her favorite boy, but then she looked over to his left and their Topper was

“What can I get you guys?” She asked looking between them, smiling at Rafe.

“Long island,” Topper said placing his empty glass down.

“Can I get a rum and coke please?” Rafe asked, resting his hands on the bar.

“Of course,” she nodded with a grin.

Rafe watched her as she prepared the drinks. Topper was trying to talk to him about who knows what, he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t pay attention even if he wanted to with that dress she had on. It fit her so perfectly, he wondered what it’d feel like under his hands. What it’d feel like to push it up as he touched the expanse of her thighs. Wondered what it’d feel like to hold her waist as he kissed her. If her skin was as soft as it looked.

“Bro you’re not even listening,” Topped said as he hit Rafe’s shoulder.

“Long island,” Y/n places the drink in front of him.

“You’re right I’m not.” Rafe rolled his eyes.

Topper took his drink without even thanking her, “Whatever dude I’m gonna find Sarah.” Finally Rafe was alone with his girl.

She placed his glass in front of him, “So where have you been all night?”

“Uh my dad didn’t want me to drink earlier,” He shrugged. He knew it was a half assed excuse.

“You don’t need to order a drink to come see me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “I-I know but my dad thought that I was just coming over for a drink.”

She laughed bitterly not at Rafe but at the whole situation, “When I’m with you I forget I’m a uh pogue.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” He reached out to touch her lightly. She leaned into his touch slightly, yearning to feel anything from him.

Her manager walked in, “Y/n, take your fifteen.” Taking over he place behind the bar, Rafe pulled his hand away from her.

“Uh yeah,” She gave him a tight lipped smile before walking to the back room. Rafe sighed and walked back out to where his friends were.

if I get burned at least we were electrified, I’m spilling wine in the bath tub you kiss my face & we’re both drunk

Y/n stood in the back leaning against the wall. She hated this town. She hated the labels everyone put on each other, it made her life so much harder. It was so easy when she was around Rafe even if it was a few minutes at a time. But then there was always something that reminded her of who she was and where she came from. It was either Ward, her friends, Rafe’s friends, her bosses. Someone always had to remind her where she was and who she was.

She rolled her eyes at herself. She walked into the back, in search of a bottle of wine. She found one she thought she’d like, popping it open and pouring herself a glass. Y/n felt like she deserved it, especially after tonight. The night wasn’t going exactly as planned, so she might as well drink.

After three full glasses of red wine her break was over. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to drink while on the clock because now everything looked a little fuzzy.

“I’m back,” She slurred to her manager.

Lisa eyed her suspiciously, “Are you drunk?”

“No never,” She gave her a toothy grin trying to hide her tipsiness. The alcohol affecting her more and more as the seconds passed.

Lisa sighed, “Y/n you can’t be like this here right now. You know how bad this would look. If you get one of these jerk offs orders wrong and they smell that merlot on your breath they’ll have you banned.” Lisa tried her best to look out for the girl because she knew she didn’t have anyone that was looking out for her.

Her eyes watered at the thought of losing the only job she had been able to get on this whole island, “I-I can’t lose this job. I need this.”

Lisa sighed, “Go home. I’ll cover for you, and you can still keep the tips okay? Only because I care about you.”

Y/n sniffled bringing the older woman into a hug, “Thank you Lisa, I owe you.”

“Get home safe okay, call someone.” Lisa said rubbing her back. She walked (stumbled a bit) to the back to grab her bag.

even in my worst times you could see the best of me

Y/n didn’t know who to call, her friends were all at parties probably drinking as well. Her parents weren’t in her life. The one person who could help her had been watching her from across the room. Concern written all over his face. She looked at him with teary eyes and he was already taking long strides towards her. She met him halfway, the tag from her dress itching her side.

“Rafe,” Her voice was shaky as she hugged herself looking for some comfort. She knew this was all her fault, she shouldn’t have had that wine. She felt like she was always making mistakes like this.

Rafe’s hands held her face, “What happened? Did someone do something?” He asked with worry and a bit of anger. If one of these kooks made his girl cry they’d have him to deal with.

“No no I did something. I-I drank some wine on my break. I’m drunk Rafe and Lisa told me to go home. She um she said she’ll let me keep the tips today but uh can you take me h-home?” She asked barely taking a breath.

He brushed her hair back, “Hey breathe, I’ll take you home okay baby.”

“I’m sorry Rafe, I-I shouldn’t take you away. I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. I’m glad I get to get away from this shit, especially if it’s with you.”

Ward had been watching the interaction from outside. He eyed as his son held the bar tender who he felt was trying to hard to look like she fit in with them, her dirty sneakers gave her away. In her defense you can’t really bartend in heels.

He walked over to them before they could leave, “Uh Rafe, what are you doing?” He didn’t spare a glance at the disheveled girl.

Rafe stood up straight, “I’m taking her home dad.”

“Who is this? The bartender? You can’t leave now. There’s still some guys I need to introduce you to.” He treated her like she was nothing.

“No dad I’m taking her home, this is more important.” Rafe wrapped his arm around her shoulders to lead her towards the exit.

Ward grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past him, “Don’t disappoint me son.”

He shrugged his shoulder to get him off, “You’ve made it clear plenty of times that it’s too late for that.”

They didn’t make a big scene but some people had been watching. They watched as the oldest Cameron led the girl outside, a pogue. Tomorrow word would spread all across the island just how cozy they were. Ward would berate Rafe about it but right now he didn’t care, he just wanted to get his girl away from everyone.

Y/n couldn’t believe Rafe had done that for her. He dropped everything for her, she really did feel like he was a prince.

only bought this dress so you could take it off

Rafe kept glancing over at her as he drove to her house. He was worried about her, she looked so sad and he hated seeing her sad. Her head was leaning agains the passenger window just looking out into the darkness.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” He finally asked breaking the silence.

She sighed looking over at him, “I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?”

“I put on this stupid dress that I can’t even afford and I got too drunk while I was working. I took you away from the party.” She shook her head at herself.

Rafe pulled into the driveway of her small house, her grandma had left it for her after she passed a few years ago. It was the perfect house for her but now she had to work overtime to keep up with bills.

“Lets talk once we get inside,” Rafe turned the car off and ran over to open her door.

They walked into her house, Rafe had never been there. This is the most time they’ve ever been able to spend alone, without anyone being able to interrupt them or pull them away from each other. He liked her house, it was very her. Warm lighting and pictures everywhere. She sat on the couch setting her bag onto the ground.

“You look amazing, this dress looks amazing on you.” He said as he sat next to her. She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I wore this for you. I wanted to impress you, instead I embarrassed myself.” She closed her eyes thinking about the events of the night.

Rafe turned to her, “I would drop everything for you. I have been dying inside to spend this night with you.”

“Really?” She asked looking at him with stars in her eyes.

“Yes, baby. And this dress does look amazing on you. You look perfect. I’ve wanted you since the first day we met at the club.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

Her face flushed at the compliments, “But why? I’m just me. I don’t have anything, I can’t even afford this dress. I’m just a bartender.”

He shook his head, “None of that shit matters to me. You actually listen to me and you care about me more than my shithead friends ever have. I only go to those stupid parties to see you.”

“Rafe, I care about you so much.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his. They were slightly swollen from the few tears she had shed earlier in the night. Her lips tasted like merlot she had downed. They moved in sync as if they had been doing this forever. He smelt like expensive cologne and she wanted to drown in it, she wanted to drown in him. His lips felt so good against hers, she had been dreaming about this moment for ages.

Her hands slid up his chest and into his hair. Pulling at the dirty blonde locks to encourage him. Rafe’s hands slid up and down her waist. Finally feeling the dress he had thought about all night. As the kiss grew more passionate he grabbed her hips and tugged her towards him. He pulled her to sit on his lap, her legs on either side of him. His fingers slowly slid up her thighs pushing her dress farther up, almost fully around her hips. Y/n’s thighs were just as soft as he imagined. His mind was racing with thoughts of everything he wanted to do to her.

The small whines that left her lips encouraged him to keep going. One hand moving behind her to give her ass a squeeze. He pulled away to press kisses against her neck making goosebumps rise on her skin. Her hands moving back and forth from tugging his hair to pulling at his blazer to get him impossibly closer.

“Baby,” He mumbled against her neck. She just hummed in return, too lost in the feeling of his lips on her. Tasting her like she’s always wanted him to.

“I want to keep going, but I know you’ve drank tonight. I want you to be be a hundred percent sober when I do everything I’ve always dreamed about doing to you,” He said looking up at her. He almost regretted his words and took her right then and there when he saw her swollen lips and hazy lust filled eyes.

She took a deep breath to get herself to focus. Her senses were overloaded on Rafe, “Okay, can you stay? Please?”

He leaned forward giving her another kiss, “Of course, I’ll always stay.”

[mncxbe]

For 8 SFW,can it be Chuuya, Akutagawa, Fydor, and anyone else you want to add?👀

Only if you want to do this though!!

i did Chuuya and Aku🥰 i love these little gremlins. hope you like it♡

8– accidentally walking in on them while they're changing

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑Chuu chuu

You finally got home around 8 p.m. Work was exhausting and you just couldn't wait to curl up in bed next to your boyfriend and watch a movie with him. Date nights were rare occasions since you were both busy people, so you tried to make the most out of the little free time you had.

When you got in front of the bedroom door you found it slightly open. Through the crack, you could see Chuuya taking off his tie and shit, slowly undoing the buttons with a deft hand as he held his phone in the other.

"Yes, boss, the mission went well. I'll hand in the report by tomorrow at noon." he spoke in a level voice as he put on a comfy t-shirt and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

You knew you shouldn't spy on him like this, especially when he had a work call, but you just couldn't help yourself. There was something so beautiful about watching Chuuya do things, even if it meant simply changing his clothes, because you knew you were the only one who got to see him like this. In the comfort of your home, the feared mafia executive turned into an ordinary man, your man.

Once he hung up the phone you slipped inside the room, the creaking sound of the door sliding open alerting your boyfriend. He turned to face you with a wide smile on his face. "Hey, princess. Good to have you home. How was your day?"

He opened his arms, welcoming you in his embrace and you basically melted against his chest. Running your hands through his ginger locks, you pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of his head "It was good, but I missed you. Couldn't wait for tonight."

"That's good to know, love. I'll pick a movie for us while you change, ok? Oh and I also ordered us some Chinese food. Hope you're hungry."

Yea, you were hungry– starved even, but you didn't want to let go of him just yet. So when Chuuya's hands settled on your hips to guide you away from him you hugged him even tighter, cooing "Just one more minute Chuu. I really like this...."

The redhead chuckled at your reaction, snaking his arms back around your hips "As you wish, my love."

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑Aku

Akutagawa has always been quite peculiar when it came to being naked around you, even months after you got together. That was part of the reason why your relationship lacked physical intimacy. Nevertheless, you understood his hesitance and respected his space.

At least until you accidentally walked in on him changing. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear your boyfriend moving around in his bedroom.

Akutagawa was standing shirtless in the middle of the room, his pants lowered to the middle of his thighs. When he noticed your presence, a frown etched itself on his features. "Y/N for god's sake can't you knock?" sneered the man, struggling to pull up his slacks.

Something about the way he fumbled with his clothes was utterly adorable. He looked... surprised, shy? Your eyes trailed along his figure: narrow shoulders and hips, pale skin littered with bruises and cuts from his battles. But you could clearly make out his lean muscles, flexing under his skin.

Akutagawa's initial annoyance melted away the moment he saw the adoring expression on your face. You looked at him like he was the most beautiful person on earth, your gaze so loving and gentle. A blush crept on his cheeks as he covered his face with the back of his hands, clearing his throat. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked in his gruff voice and you smiled bashfully.

"You look really handsome" you admitted and he sighed contently. "Then come here, babe. I'll show you some more"

[lilibethwrites]

Head that Wears the Crown

Aemond Targaryen x F!Targaryen!Reader

There is only one woman in the whole of Westeros who can get inside Aemond’s Targaryen’s head. On the night of Aegon II’s coronation, Aemond’s beloved wife, Y/N Targaryen is not happy with who wears the crown, and she seduces her husband into making a move that might change the order of succession in a mere turn of the moon.  

Warnings: smut, incest  

A.N: Reader is Rhaenyra and Daemon’s daughter and married to Aemond. This is somewhat darker than what I usually write, but it’s also something I’ve been meaning to write while I’m still working on the requests I’ve received.

Word count: 1958

You were at the Dragonpit earlier, standing tall and proud with your husband by your side as Aegon was crowned as the true King. Within you, however, the fire of a dozen dragons burnt bright and tall. The same fire also burned inside your husband as he grunted and scoffed, your hand in his was squeezed to the point of discomfort—pain, even, as he tried to restrain himself.

 It should have been you. It should have been Aemond. The legacy of Aegon the Conqueror was insulted when his crown was placed upon the head of the disgraceful, reproachable man you had the displeasure of calling your brother-in-law.

 And Helaena? Old Gods and new had to band together to save your family from doom if she were to rule alongside her brother.

 What you devised required a clear head on your part and Aemond’s both to blossom. You allowed him to take a flight on Vhagar to clear his head, and spar with Ser Criston afterwards until his arms and knees threatened to give out.

 Then you knew where to find him as if you’d placed him there by your own hand. In the new, spacious bedchamber in addition to yours, gifted to you as Aegon and Helaena vacated it. You suspected it was a consolation gift from Alicent. A mere room for the Seven Kingdoms.

 The room was spacious. The floor was tiled with veiny marbles imported from Dorne between smooth stones and the walls were covered in rich tapestries; and it was dark, illuminated by what seemed like a dozen candles and the fire from the fireplace alone. In the middle was a tub partially obscured by a silk curtain left ajar, and within it was Aemond with his arms hanging out on each side, his slender fingers drumming on the side of the cold tub with a servant carefully scrubbing his broad shoulders.

 Your entrance did not go unnoticed, and you relieved the servant of the frightful duty. She had heard the tales from other girls who’s heard them from others: Aemond was cruel and short-tempered. He’s beaten and maimed people on a whim. On an evening like this in particular, it was easy as a pie to get on his nerves.

 “Leave us,” you ordered, and she set down the rag and scurried away eagerly. Aemond’s face was turned away from his Princess wife, you, and towards the fireplace that extended all the way up to the high ceiling. It gave his face a soft tinge of warmth, he almost looked less intimidating.

 “My love.”

 Only a hum.

 You took a fluffed-up pillow from the bed and kneeled on it beside the tub, to which Aemond finally turned his head. You only hoped it was washed thoroughly. Even through heavy stockings, you were revolted to kneel on only Gods knew what touched before. Knowing Aegon, it was nothing decent.

 “What a day we’ve had,” you whispered, dipping the rag in water.

 “Hm.”

 You began with his arm, scrubbing gently and slowly before moving up to his shoulder, following the muscular curve of it in circles.

 “Talk to me, husband,” you whispered again, much closer to his ear this time, and sealed your seduction with a kiss to his neck.

 From the way his chest rose and fell, you knew he was giving in to you.

 “Aegon is…” he sighed. Aemond shared your dislike for Aegon but his sense of duty and his commitment to his family tied his tongue. You, however, were also his family, and you were determined.

 “A drunkard and a charlatan, yes. Not at all the knight and the scholar you are. The heirloom of Aegon belonged to you and you alone, my love.”

 You dipped the rag into the water once again, this time rubbing his chest. He caught your heavy-lidded eyes and licked his lips like a man starved before a feast.

 “Aegon is the king, now. This is treason,” Aemond spoke through gritted teeth. The words of his older brother’s coronation were heavy on his pride and difficult to speak.

 “So be it. Then we shall hang together.”

 You trailed down from his chest to his abdomen. His muscles under your rag tightened. He could foresee your next move as with shaky breaths that bordered on sweet mewls and moans, you let go of the rag and pressed your palm on his skin.

 “Hand in hand in death as we are in life, my love,” your fingers travelled down a patch of light hair that led to his manhood.

 He was growing hard already and twitched in your palm when you gave his cock a light squeeze and a pump. Aemond’s hips shifted as he slid down the tub, his legs spread wider to accommodate your conduct.

His breath was heavier also, shaking with each up-and-down slide of your hand around his shaft and with kisses pressed to the corners of his lips.

 “Aegon cannot hurt you, love. No one can while I am around,” he grunted. His head was thrown back in pleasure though his eye was trained on your face still.

 “Mmm, husband. What would I do without you?” You purred in his ear, scratching with your words the spot that pleased him the most.

 Aemond wasn’t a man to be manipulated, but you were a woman not to be underestimated. Your hold over him was stronger than most knew. Perhaps even Aemond himself didn’t always know just how much of his decisions were placed in his head by his dear wife.

 “It was not right,” his lips loosened up between grunts as you picked up the pace with your strokes. “He—he should not have—” he stuttered between gasps and huffs.

 “We can make it right. My dear husband, we can make it right,” You could tell he was close. A hand on the curved corner of the tub clutched the marble so tight that veins on top of his hand and around his forearm popped up. He hissed through gritted teeth with each stroke you gave him from the hilt to the tip.

 He was burning up, too. When you pressed quick but wet kisses all over his neck and jaw, your lips felt as if you’ve kissed hot coals.

 “How?”

 You knew the signs all too well. You knew when to press on, and much to your husband’s dismay, you knew when to pull back. With a disappointed groan from Aemond’s throat, you pulled your hand out of the water and began slowly to loosen up the bodice of your dress.

 He watched you with a heavy-lidded eye and a heavier heave of his chest. The heavy silk of your gown slid down from your shoulders and bared your naked breasts to your husband. He cupped one, massaging and squeezing, desperate to feel more of you.

 Aemond’s wet hand raised goosebumps on your skin. There was the familiar, sweet building up of heat and ache between your legs, as well. You needed him just as he needed you. Though before you allowed yourself to indulge, the matter at hand needed Aemond to be resolved on a particular solution—and who better than you, his darling wife, to make it happen?

 You cupped his cheek and brushed your lips against his before sliding your tongue between his parted lips. It was more of a promise of things that might come, so you pulled back when his hand tangled in your hair to deepen the kiss.

 “There is a way, my love.”

 You had Aemond just the way you wanted then: panting and gasping, trembling, silently begging to be touched, to be inside you. Your thumb caressed his lips, and he watched you expectantly.

 “Though some might say it shall visit a curse upon us—”

 “You are asking me to… to—”

 “Not quite. Not a slit throat, or a sword through the heart. But… you do fly together occasionally. Above the clouds, above even where the Gods cannot reach you. If a dreadful accident were to happen…”

 “It would be—”

 “It would be the only way to ensure there would be no protests to your coronation,” your hand wrapped around his neck gently, your thumb stroking the vein that ran from the side of his sensitive flesh. You could feel the flow of his hot blood when you pressed your finger down on it.

 Aemond leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. If it wasn’t an immediate no, it was a yes. A reluctant one, maybe even an afraid one—and could you blame him considering the weight of what you just asked of him?— but it was a yes.

 Your hand dipped into the water and down between his legs again, and you started stroking his already-stimulated cock, this time to bring him to his peak.

 “Leave Helaena to me. I know you are fond of her,” Though the idea that Aemond was keen on her made it all the more alluring to do away with her in a more permanent manner, you had to tread carefully and make your calculations precisely. Your plan was as delicate as it was dangerous. If you turned greedy, it could collapse.

 “I shall ensure she disappears without damage. This, I promise to you, my love. But Aegon,” you squeezed him, and he reached down to grab your wrist, making your hand resume its movement.

 “Aegon must…”

 “I will do it,” he finally agreed to your plan. The hesitation in his voice was palpable, but you knew your husband to be a man of his word. He would do it if he promised he would.

 So you kissed him one more time as he guided your hand around his cock, only a few more strokes away from release. You didn’t resist when he bit your lip and swirled his tongue around yours.

 “I shall be the kinslayer to put a crown on your head, my dear, wicked wife,” he murmured against your lips. It took one to know one. And that was all you needed to hear, so you worked his cock just the way that he liked—the way that drew out ragged moans from his trembling lips.

 He came panting, chasing his pleasure with erratic and desperate jolts and rolls of his hips. You let him, and he fucked your hand until the last drop of his load.

 Aemond’s head was thrown back, his eye shut tight with tremors still going through his hips and groin. He only looked at you when he heard the rustling of your skirt on the stone and marble floor. He watched you—exhausted and having barely caught his breath— as you stepped out of your dress and joined him in the tub. Bubbled bath water splashed on the floor as you straddled him.

 “My king,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and his breath hitched in his throat. If he wasn’t convinced of the plan before, hearing the words from your mouth certainly sealed the deal for him.

 “My cruel, cruel queen.”

 “Only to our enemies, my love. Only to those who would do nought but menace to us.”

 “Oh, whatever would I do without you?” Aemond teased, mockery laced with playfulness. You could let him entertain any notion he liked as long as you got your wishes.

 He was growing hard under you again with each roll of your hips. As his head bowed down to take your nipple in his mouth, you guided him inside you.

 A shared moan escaped your lips as he filled you to the brim and your walls fluttered around him.

 “Don’t—don’t stop,” he pleaded.

 You had no such plans. Not for the night, nor for the future.

  Aemond Tag (let me know if you’d like to be added to it):

@cherishedauthor @schniiipsel @verycollectivecreator @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @aemcndtargaryen @m1ndbrand @iorveth-scoiatael @let-love-bleeds-red @imakeangelscry @midnightindiewolf @queereddie @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @nighttwingg @mllemarianne @lomllino @tinykryptonitewerewolf @mirandastuckinthe80s @loverandqueenofdragons @fultimefangirl @lenasvoid @leilani788 @theekinslayer @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @m00n5t0n3​ @paprikaquinn​ @dearbaji​

[ouiouimochi]

pairing: soshiro hoshina x reader

genre: established rs, fluff, romance

wc: 725

warning/s: wonky phone format , no beta we die like the words that should've spilled out of my mouth when I see hoshina, suggestive at the end ehe

note/s: inspired by yet another real life experience

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You and Soshiro were just basking in each other's presence while doing your own thing. You turned to the next page of your book, looking up when your boyfriend stood up from his seat to get something from the filing cabinet beside you. You caught his attention immediately and batted your lashes, your lips curving upwards.

He sauntered over to you and bent down to your height seated on the plush office sofa. You grabbed his face and peppered it with kisses before nuzzling your cheek into his. His magenta orbs looked into yours lovingly before he retaliated with his own barrage of kisses but on your lips.

You giggled, feeling airy from his affection.

“Love youuuu,” you drawled out your words as he pulled away before brushing his lips against the crown of your head.

“Love ‘ya too, dear.” He chuckled to himself while walking back to his desk.

You two shared a glance then it was back to respectively working on your own tasks. You were peacefully humming as you continued reading the book about kaiju. A weight sank itself beside you, so you turned to find Soshiro had settled to doing his paperwork next to you instead and placed the rest of the papers on the coffee table. You grinned before planting your lips on his cheek again, he reciprocated with multiple kisses that left you breathless.

Again, back to work.

A few minutes later, you found yourself comfortably laying on the sofa, careful to not accidentally kick your dearest. A yawn escaped your mouth as you finally finished the damn book, staring boredly at the ceiling afterwards.

You shifted a little, the ever so cautious male taking notice immediately. He then carried both of your legs to rest on top of his lap before leaning towards your face to nudge his nose with yours gently in an eskimo kiss. You gave him a peck, and he showered you with more.You laughed airily, thinking it was done—

Until he firmly placed his lips on yours in a slightly more heated kiss. You had no time to react, completely flustered at his unexpected gesture. He pulled away and smirked at your expression, a canine poking out from the corner.

“I- ‘Shiro!” You babbled out, making your boyfriend laugh. He gently pinches your cheek, eyes filled with complete adoration.

“So adorable, ‘might just eat you up,” he licked his lips, a glint in his opened eyes.

Soshiro continued on to his work as if he did not just knock the wind out of you. You mentally grumbled while pulling out your phone to read a bunch of other… stuff. Your eyes took in a few juicy scenes, reminding you of a certain someone, so you peaked over from the device, staring at the purple haired man. He didn't seem to notice and was instead focused on the rest of his work.

You pouted unconsciously. The vice Captain's phone vibrates with a notification on the coffee table and his attention snaps towards it. He briefly scanned it before turning to you completely.

“Have to go to an unscheduled meeting today, dear.” He announced, his voice holding such a wonderful timbre to it.

“‘mmkay. Good luck, babe.”(chappel roan omg-) You stretched your arms, urging Soshiro for a hug. He leans forward to indulge your wordless request.

In a blink, you unexpectedly find yourself pinned to the couch with one of his legs right at your core. He swallowed any sound that may have escaped your past your lips as he hungrily kissed you with fervor. You gripped his toned arms that were underneath the Defense Force uniform in order to try grounding yourself back to reality. His tongue poked at your lower lip, causing you to instinctively open them wider to let him in.

The moment didn't come however when he pulled away completely and his face displayed another fanged smirk in your direction. He kissed you on your forehead while poking your nose lightly with his index finger.

“I’ll be right back, m’ dearest.” Soshiro opened one of his eyes to observe your expression better before closing it and languidly strolling out the office.

You just laid there in absolute disbelief, the door closing shut as his light padded footsteps fade away. You wanted to scream and shout in frustration and despair.

He just left you there, high and not very much dry.

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oops. here ya go @justwinginglife , @maruflix , @iamjellyfish

[ironicallyyn]

................

Uhm... So this is my first time writing a storyline based thing and spare me cause I'm slowly getting the hang of how Tumblr works but i present y'all with....

Storyline: haikyuu... A historical fantasy story about a arch mage, an alchemist and a crowned royal prince. You have been engrossed by the manhwa after your friend recommended this to you. But what happens when you suddenly get isekai'ed into the story as a saintess?

Yandere sakusa (our cleanliness loving arch mage):

You were the saintess.. and he was the mage... Ofcourse you guys were meant to be! It was a match made in heaven sweetheart! You are meant to be together forever! The things you touch... The path you walk on... Everything around you is soo pure so innocent and so so so desperate to be ruined..ruined by him!

(he's an arch mage honey, he's gonna arch your back( ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠))

The moment he realises that the crowned prince and that bastard of an alchemist are in love with you... He loses it! He has to keep you safe! No one is allowed to taint your pure soul! No one but him!

Don't be surprised when you find yourself locked in a temple with high level magic spells around you.. he just did it for your protection sweetheart.. So what if you are the saintess and have to bless people? You should only use your blessings on him and him alone! Don't worry love... He'll make sure to remove any peck of impurity around both of you<3

Even if he has to get his hands dirty just for you<3

Yandere akaashi (royal crowned prince)

You're a saintess... That means you are his bride! His soon to be wife and the empire's mother! What do you mean that's not how it works? Isn't it how it goes in the stories? The saintess marries the crowned prince who turns into the emperor and they live happily forever ever after?

Aw.. ofcourse you don't know about it.. you're a pure soul afterall! Silly him! He needs to protect you then! Since, he can't have someone else taking his salvation away!

...WHAT!? THAT LOUSY MAGE AND PESKY ALCHEMIST DARE HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOU!? This can't be! no nO NO NO! This is treason! Treason against the royal family! So what if they are powerful? They need to be executed immediately!

Only he has the rights to claim you as his wife! Even if he has to bend a few royal orders here and there....

Yandere kita ( perfectionist alchemist )

Playing with spells and magic circles was his thing! The moment he laid his eyes on you.. he was enchanted! Obsessed! Desperate!. He needed to have you one way or the other.

You bless people, save them from misery by your holy powers, the epitome of mercy whereas he was deemed as evil, scary and an outcast.. but you.. you were the only one who treated him like a human.. no, no he doesn't care if you're the saintess, a maid or even a witch... He loves you! No matter what you are and what you want to be!

He's got to cage you keep you safe from prying eyes! Darling, he has seen how other stare at you... It makes him want to claw their eyes out!

How about going far far away from humanity where only the two of you are present? Doesn't it sound so romantic?♡

.

.

.

.

[vivwritesfics]

Jester Stole His Thorny Crown

Chapter Six

He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.

Mafia!Au

1.2K

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Oldies night was her favourite. She had her selection of songs in her head, her setlist for the night, going through them as she made her way to the club.

But, when she pushed her way inside, her piano wasn't where she had left it. It was pushed to one side of the stage while other instruments and musical equipment were set up in the centre. "What the fuck," she whispered under her breath.

Moving around the tables, she made her way to the back office. She ignored the urge to shout at the people setting up their instruments as she walked past.

"Y/N." Charles was grinning at her from behind Arthurs desk as she walked into the room. But she ignored them, searching through the papers on the desk for the schedule. "I spoke to Arthur and it took some convincing but-"

"What the fuck?" She cried once she found the schedule. Her normal seven day working week had been changed to just four. Slowly, she raised her head to face him. "Did you speak to Arthur?" She asked quickly, dropping the normal fear that Charles was used to hearing. "Is this because of you?"

He nodded, not quite understanding that she was pissed. "Got Arthur to book someone else for tonight," he said. "I thought I could take you out to dinner, say thank you for the piano lessons."

This was the side of Charles she had been wanting to see ever since she first met him. This side of Charles wasn't terrifying. He was happy and relaxed, and she hated him.

Almost immediately, panic set up. "How the hell am I gonna make rent this month?" Her voice came out as a squeak in panic. She gripped the strap of her bag as she looked at who was replacing her.

She didn't recognise any of the names. Who the hell was Disco Fever Three? "I... do you know where I could find Arthur?" She asked.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, finally getting the hint.

She shook her head as she walked out of the office. "Where are you going?" Charles called after her. "I thought we could get dinner."

But she kept walking. "I... I have things I need to do."

"Y/N!" He shouted, his voice just a little deeper this time. But she kept going, kept walking away from him. And it was making Charles mad. "Y/N!" He stood from the desk and strode towards her.

In four large steps he had reached her. He reached his hand out, grasping her arm. "Go out to dinner with me," he said, but it didn't come out friendly. Not in the slightest. The way he was looking at her, it had her shivering.

"Are you threatening me, Mr Leclerc?"

The grin that overtook his expression was somewhat sinister and his grip grew tighter. "Not threatening, chérie. Just inviting."

She looked away from him, lowered her gaze as she nodded. "Perfect," Charles said. He shut the office door and led the way out to his car.

The restaurant fell hushed when Charles strode in with her on his arm. Suddenly, every patron was nervous. The waitress was sweating as she led them to their seats. 

Desperately she wanted to apologise to the poor waitress, but she couldn't. Another waitress came over and put bread and water on their table, giving them each a menu. 

She didn't look at the menu. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. Even as she stared, she couldn't get up the courage to say what she really wanted to, to ask why he had brought her there. Part of her didn't want to know, wanted to eat and get out of there. She did have to get on and look for a second job, after all. 

When the waitress came back over, Charles ordered for her. A fancy cocktail and food she hadn't quite caught the name of. No matter what it was, whether she liked it or nit, she'd eat every bite. 

"I can't believe Arthur hasn't given you a day off before today," he said as they waited on their drinks to be brought over. Neither of them could see just how stressed the staff were as they tried to get their orders to them as quickly as possible. 

She couldn't help the scoff that left her lips, immediately covering her mouth with her hand to hide it. But Charles had caught it, levelling her with a somewhat threatening look. "What," he barked. 

She sank in on herself. Fuck, she really hoped that he hadn't seen. "Nothing," she said and cleared her throat. "It's just, Arthur hasn't given me a day off because I don’t want one. He pays me as much as he can, and that barely makes up my rent." She sighed through her nose as her drink was placed in front of her. She wasn't going to admit it, but the drink was needed. 

Charles let out a sigh. "And if you can't make rent you'll have to "borrow" from us, which would put you in an even worse position," he said and she nodded. 

He knew what he had to do. But Charles wouldn't apologise for taking her much needed performances away from her. He'd fix it as best he could, but never admit he was wrong. 

A restaurant wasn't the right setting, that was for sure. Charles maintained his tough, terrifying persona until they left the restaurant, climbing back into his car. 

"Where do you live?" He asked as he fiddled with the radio. 

She shook her head. "You can just take me back to the lounge, if you'd like," she said, her hands folded neatly in her lap. 

"Don't be stupid,"he immediately replied. "Give me the address, now."

That was all she needed before she let her street and building name fall from her lips. She didn’t want Charles to know where she lived, but now she didn’t have much of a choice. 

What she didn’t know as she climbed out of the car, was that Charles had an idea. There was a reason why he had asked for her address, reason why he wanted to know where she lived.

If she couldn’t pay rent, he was going to do something about it. 

As soon as she was inside, Charles drove back to the lounge. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the evening. It didn’t go the way he had imagined, not in the slightest. He hadn’t wanted to threaten her, but his instincts had taken over. If she had just gone along with it, they could have had a nice evening. But now, well, the entire evening left a sour taste in his mouth. 

He parked up outside of the club and climbed out of the car. Music could be heard coming from inside, but it wasn’t as good as she was on the piano. He walked in and strode past the full tables, heading towards the back office. 

“Did you tell her?” Asked Arthur as he strode in. The younger Leclerc had waited until Charles had gotten her out of the club to start working.

Charles sat in the seat opposite him. He scowled at his brother. “You’re a coward.”

“You’re the one who wanted her hours cut. And I’m guessing she hates you for it.”

Charles deflated in his chair. “How do I fix it?”

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[split-spectrum]

Water and Rock

Chapter 15/16

Pairing: Obi Wan x FemReader

Chapter Length: 9K

Warnings/Tags: explicit content, angst, smut, unhappy ending

Description: There are only so many excuses a master and padawan can make to kiss under "extenuating circumstances" before circumstances stop arising and start being created. You are an expert at your craft - a Jedi knight in service as a spy for the Republic. When your former master Obi Wan joins you on a mission, it's clear things aren't the same as they once were. The trials you face together may break your bond, or turn it into something else entirely.

side note: can't believe we're finally at the second to last chapter :')

☆☆☆

Your breath is slow. Your shoulders are relaxed. Your muscles are decidedly loose. The temple grounds are a wellspring of the Force. 

So why do you have to keep correcting yourself, bringing your mind back to center over and over again like a padawan? 

You must tell me.

The sound of his voice beats like a drum, thrumming and thrumming and thrumming deep within you.

There will come a time when it is too late. What will you do then? Take comfort in the knowledge that you'd kept your promise not to speak to him? 

You could break your oath to the Jedi order for selfish reasons, but you won't break your silence to save him now?

A shudder runs down your back. These are dark thoughts. A Jedi does not make decisions out of fear. Or shame. 

You release the feelings, concentrating on the leaves of the vines hanging from the trellis that surrounds you. Looking for the light in any form. 

A crown finch peeks through the greenery on the other side of the trellis, then flits to a branch on the tree above you. In the distance, you hear the hollow, wooden sound of a wind chime clinking. You close your eyes and imagine the wind gently pushing the chimes, playing the song within the soul of the planet beneath you. The finch chirrups over your head, and you listen to the sound of its little wings beating as it moves further away. You follow the fluttering noises until they start to sound strangely louder. 

In the distance, the noise becomes more like a brushing, crunching intrusion. Like a creature larger than a finch. Your suspicions are confirmed with the sound of footsteps growing closer, and you open your eyes, sensing a familiar presence in the Force. 

"Anakin?" 

He's draped in long, dark robes that seem to be giving him some difficulty in maneuvering the narrow gap between two hedges that isn't technically part of the walking path. When he hears your voice he looks up, and his frustrated expression instantly softens. He gives you one of his charming, shy smiles and quickly shrugs through the bushes to greet you with an embrace. 

"Hey, Pickup," he murmurs quietly behind your head. Your own smile deepens at the nickname. It's been years since you've heard it. 

He'd given it to you back when your relationship with him had been mainly limited to flying the getaway ship for him and Obi Wan. You'd swept in at the last minute many times to provide an escape from whatever situation they'd found themselves in. Usually fire was involved.

Now, he hardly resembles the scrawny teenager from back then. His sandy blond hair has darkened over time into shaggy brown curls, and the scar given to him by Ventress has taken the innocence from his eyes. 

As you pull away from the hug to look him over, you search his expression for a glimpse of the boy you remember. Looking deeper, you think, no - perhaps it wasn't Ventress's work that did that. His eyes hold many of the same things you've seen in your own. Anxiety. Fatigue. Too many terrible memories from the war. He's changed, the same as you have. 

But despite it, he looks glad to see you. 

"I had heard you might come back. It's been too long." He pauses, seeming to hesitate before quietly adding, "I've missed you."

The genuine sentiment tugs at your heart. Anakin had always gone barreling through any sense of formality or propriety, and it seems that will never change. 

You give his forearm - the one that can feel it - a squeeze. "I've missed you too," you tell him. Then you look around, suddenly remembering. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be at the ceremony."

He looks sheepish, pulling away. "I was. I left after the awards were given. I don't think they'll mind."

You give him a mockingly chastising smile from under your brows. He absolutely knows they will more than 'mind'. They're probably looking for him right now. Which makes you wonder...

"And Obi Wan?" you ask, trying to keep your tone nonchalant as you look behind him, half expecting him to emerge from the shrubs. 

He shakes his head, dark tresses bouncing over his shoulders. "No, Obi Wan wouldn't dream of leaving to find me. Not when we need to keep our relationship with the senate so close."

There seems to be a little venom in his words, and he drops his gaze to the side. You raise an eyebrow, letting the pause drag out. When he doesn't elaborate, you ask gently, "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," he brushes you off. "Forget it."

You want to push, knowing you could probably get more out of him, but you don't have that kind of rapport anymore. You don't know him well enough to navigate his volatile emotions. So you change the subject. 

"Well, if you're not attending the ceremony, what were you planning to do until it's over?"

The shadow of his shy smile is back. He glances toward the temple behind you. "I have some work I wanted to take care of." He looks back at you, gaze brightening a bit. "Actually, maybe you could help me."

You study him, pretending to hesitate when you've already made up your mind to help him. Then you give a little bow, stepping behind him with your hand outstretched. "Lead the way, Skywalker." 

Who knows. Spending a little time outside your head could be exactly what you need. 

--

"Whatever happened to Jedi keeping limited possessions?" You ask him, staring at the speeder as he hands a few credits to the droid hovering at the keypad.

"Well, this is one of my few possessions," he drawls, tugging the cover off of it as the droid bustles off. "It's only a few credits a month to keep it here, and the parts weren't expensive. Most of them were damaged when I got them."

'Here' is a dingy little storage unit on one of Coruscant's lower levels. You're both still wearing the hoods of your robes to cover your faces as Anakin had pointed out that he didn't exactly want anyone to know about the space. You only take down your hoods after he closes the bay door behind you, keying in the code. 

Once you're alone inside the unit, you cross your arms, walking around the speeder to take it all in. The body isn't in anything resembling good condition, but everything is where it should be. You pop the hood to take a look at the engine, which consists of some very creative choices. 

Leaning over it, you start to see why he had asked you here. Some of the work would require specialized tools - or two pairs of hands. And since he isn't a Besalisk, here you are. It did beg a further question, though. 

"You didn't want Master Windu's help with this?" you ask, teasing. 

He doesn't answer, just gives you a sardonic look. 

"Alright, then. What about Obi Wan?"

This is a more genuine question. As much as it had become a joke, there's more than a little truth behind it when people call Anakin his second padawan. 

While Mace Windu supports Anakin in all the necessary ways, diligent, patient, and steady, Obi Wan has always tended to be the supportive shoulder on which he leans. During the early years of his training. Mace seemed to work under the perception that if he was indeed the Chosen One, he would not fail. Obi Wan took Anakin's training more personally, intent that he would become a Jedi knight - that he must not fail. It was for this very reason that the council had decided Obi Wan would not be responsible for his training. 

But it was also for this reason that Anakin often confided in Obi Wan things that he couldn't share with his own master. They became like brothers, in a way, and despite their separation, by the time Anakin completed his training as a padawan, even the council couldn't deny how well they worked together. While you had been working solo, Obi Wan and Anakin had been paired on missions more often than any other Jedi. 

So as you lean over Anakin's latest secret, you genuinely wonder why Obi Wan hasn't been made a part of it. 

"Obi Wan has enough problems on his mind at the moment," he answers unconvincingly. He steps up next to you, taking the speeder's hood from your hand and propping it up. "And anyway, he wouldn't understand."

You decide to let it rest, though there seems to be more he's not saying. Obi Wan would understand having a secret project to work on - needing a little slice of freedom within his means. Though he might not approve, he would have helped if Anakin had asked. You both know it. Instead of pursuing the thought, though, you pick up a spanner. 

"Okay. Then just show me where you need me."

--

A couple of hours later, you're slamming down the hood and wiping your hands with a rag. Anakin is raising his arm above his head, rubbing his face into the underside of his sleeve. 

"I think that'll do it," he says, smearing the mix of black grease with his sweat and painting it from his nose to his cheek. "Come on. Let's go for a test drive."

You smile, tossing him the rag and watching him make a poor effort to clean himself up. "I'd be honored to be your first passenger." Climbing into the seat, you frown. "But, wait. Aren't you worried someone will see us?"

He presses a button as he gets behind the controls, and a durasteel panel starts to slide over your head. "We'll keep the top on."

Once the speeder's top half is in place and he's edged it out of the storage unit, he hops out to close the unit's entrance. As he slides back into his seat, he adjusts the steering and turns to look at you again with a barely subdued grin. "Besides, we'll be going too fast for anyone to get a good look at us."

"...We will?" is all you have time to get out before he punches it, sending you careening into multi-level traffic and gripping the side of your seat to steady yourself. 

Coruscant glimmers all around you. Any surface that's not emitting its own twinkling lights, advertisement or otherwise, reflects the brilliant glare of the sun. The cacophony of light and sound echoes into the abyss beneath you, as far down as you can see. As Anakin whips through streams of other speeders without the slightest hesitation, the noises grow louder, into shrieks and beeps and the occasional curse. 

You bite your tongue, glancing over at him as he threads the needle between two other speeders. His eyes are lit up with the spark of adrenaline, and there's no sense in trying to reason with him. You'd known what you were getting into as soon as you'd agreed to go along for the ride. He's quickly overcome with the gleeful look he gets when he's in complete control of utter chaos, and you find yourself cracking a smile, angling your hand out the window to catch the current of the wind whipping past. 

When you've sped well past the outskirts of the Senate District, he punches a button and the durasteel above your head melts back into the frame of the speeder. The hood you'd pulled over your head is whisked away, uncovering your face. 

"Anakin!" you shout over the wind, startled, "I thought we weren't going to put the top down?"

He just gives another wild smile, eyes facing forward. "It's beautiful, isn't it? We can go wherever we want."

It's like he's not even in the same dimension anymore. You watch him, hair ruffling in the breeze, eyes sparkling with some sort of blind fervor you can't quite understand. 

This man - this kid, you remind yourself - is a general, with unending responsibilities. It must be a dream to let loose, even for a moment. That must be why he seems so distant; so lost in thought. 

After some time sitting in silence, just letting him fly, you finally ask, "Anakin, can you take me back, please?" 

That snaps him out of it. The speeder instantly slows as he seems to come back to his senses. "I'm sorry, I- I shouldn't have done that."

You smile gently. "No, it's alright. It's not that." Sighing, you rest your arm over the side. "I have... somewhere I have to be."

He grips the shifter and starts to turn back. "Sure. Of course." Then, more quietly when the wind isn't muffling the words anymore, he murmurs, "Something's wrong. Isn't it?"

You stare down over the edge, sighing softly again. He's always been so sensitive to the suffering of those around him. And as usual, he doesn't hesitate to pry. But if anyone were to understand struggling to follow traditions and ideals, it would be Anakin. 

"I just... have a lot on my mind," you tell him slowly, haltingly. 

There's a long, unbroken silence while his dark lashes flick down briefly, and then he stares out over the blinking lights and perpetual movement of the city. It goes without saying that everyone playing a part in this war has a lot on their mind. But there's a strange kind of intimacy in being able to say it out loud to someone.

You turn to look at him, finally deciding to push a little further past caution. "Anakin, have you ever felt like... like you don't know who to trust? Even the Force? Even... yourself?"

He seems to tense. When he answers, his voice goes soft and his tone is hard to read. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," you reply truthfully. "All my life, there's been a clear line between right and wrong. Even when things are at their most complicated, I knew which choice to make. Now... I just. Don't."

You can feel your pulse quickening, admitting these things. You expect him to dismiss you; to tell you what you would tell any fellow Jedi in such a state: Trust in the Force. 

But he doesn't answer right away. 

Keeping the speeder at a steady pace, he shifts his eyes uneasily over to yours. "Sometimes the line isn't as clear as it should be." He pauses. "So, I suppose you have to ask yourself, what choice can you make that will help people the most?"

You shake your head. "I wish it were that simple. But if I decide to try and help someone... to save someone for the wrong reasons..."

His eyes narrow. "I don't believe that's possible."

"What?" 

"If you can help someone, the Jedi code makes it our responsibility to do so. There are no wrong reasons to protect life. No matter what anyone might say." He's talking slowly, now; deeper in his chest. It's a thing he's always done to make himself seem older and wiser than his years. 

You lift your brows, staring at him. Then you collect yourself, trying not to offend him with your shock. He's always been forthright, but this is truly something different. "I wish I could be so certain. I've meditated on it endlessly, but things feel so... clouded."

He lapses back into an uneasy silence, then finally asks you, with a tentative edge in his voice, "This... person you want to save-"

"It isn't anyone you know," you answer, trying to keep your voice steady while adding the lie to the growing list of reasons you feel yourself spinning out.

He nods slowly, letting it drop. Then he finishes his thought with half-hearted encouragement. "You should have more faith in yourself. Obi Wan has taught you well. You'll do what's right, in the end."

Your chest tightens and you blink, quickly looking away. 

"I'll try," you mumble, blurting out the first response you can come up with. There's a long silence, his name hanging between you. 

You don't like how far the conversation has steered toward Obi Wan. You recalibrate, talking over him just as he opens his mouth to speak again.

"Have you spoken to Senator Amidala lately?"

His entire mood seems to shift, though his expression hardly changes. He's gotten better over time at hiding his crush, but to someone who knows him well, the difference in his demeanor is obvious. 

"Not lately," he answers quickly. He pauses before adding, more quietly, "She's been... hard at work. Busy with senate matters. We haven't had much time to catch up."

You nod. "Of course."

He mumbles something about a sector governance decree, and you nod again, feigning interest. Then he goes totally silent, and it's awkward this time; not easily broken. You don't like pushing his buttons like this, and you feel a little guilty at manipulating him. But if he had kept prodding you for more details, you don't know if you could have kept from getting defensive. 

Anakin cranks at the controls with a gloved hand, speeding up. The top comes back up a few moments later, and you make polite conversation on the way back to the storage complex; no longer two old friends, but now just two people having entirely different thoughts than the ones shared out loud. 

--

"See you later, Pickup," Anakin says, splitting his path from your own when you make it back to the temple. Then he calls after you, "If you see Obi Wan before me, tell him I'm sorry he had to fend for himself with the politicians."

You instinctively force a smile, but looking back at Anakin, a genuine one gets away from you. 

"I'll tell him if I see him."

If you see him. You check your chrono; it's becoming that time now, in fact. You have little time to rush back to your quarters and get cleaned up before your commlink is blinking with a new message.

The council has convened, and they await your arrival. 

The thick mantle of your outer robe flutters behind you as you swiftly make your way up the stairs to the council chambers. You've opted for one of your older robes - a cream-colored one with traditional floor-length inner robes which are even lighter in color. You try not to think of the reason you've selected this garb. You try to tell yourself it was a subconscious decision to wear an outfit that would put forth an image of softness, of innocence, of purity. 

Just in case. 

When you reach the closed doors, you straighten your shoulders and do everything in your power to calm your spirit. The waiting is finally over. Whether for good or bad, you will finally know why the council has called you here. 

When you push in, entering the council chambers, you find the majority of the seats empty. The rest of the council is nowhere to be seen, and sitting in front of you are only three members.

"Please, come in, Commander," Mace greets you. 

You step into the center of the room and bow respectfully to each of them in turn. 

"Master Windu." You dip your head in reply to his greeting, and he nods. 

"Master Yoda," you address the grandmaster beside him, tipping your head down. 

The wrinkled little sage makes a "hm" sound under his breath, deeply inclining his head to match you. 

The third Jedi Master's cape is strewn over the side of his chair, and he bows his head before you do. His eyes are a brilliant, incandescent blue. "Commander."

Your pulse skips a few beats, and after mirroring his nod, you snap your eyes back to Master Windu before you can show any sign of hesitation. 

Mace fixes you under a stare of his own. "We have much to discuss, and time is not our ally, so we will begin with a simple question: Do you believe your mission on Asar-2 was a success?"

You keep your eyes centered on Mace, though your immediate instinct is to slip a glance back to your master. "I... believe it was. Yes."

"And do you still feel you are capable of performing your duties in their full extent?"

You feel your palms immediately going clammy beneath the long sleeves of your robe. Crossing your arms slowly in front of yourself, you clasp your hands gently at your waist and nod solemnly. "Yes, Masters, I do."

"Regardless of any personal feelings you may have?"

Your throat goes dry. 

Your mask slips, just long enough for you to cast a glance at Obi Wan. He locks eyes with you, holds it for a moment, then looks away. 

Your heart drops into your stomach, but you try not to let panic take over. This shouldn't be so hard. You specialize in lying, after all. But there's a difference between telling lies for a cause that you believe is right, and telling lies to cover your own selfish actions. And that difference is sitting in the pit of your stomach right now.

You focus back on the question. Too much time has passed. And you know the only answer you can give.

"Yes, Master."

Despite his sense of urgency, Master Windu stays quiet, letting the moment linger. All three of them, including Obi Wan, seem to be inspecting you deeply. You feel exposed in more ways than one, under the scrutiny of the council members, surrounded by walls of transparisteel with ships and speeders passing idly by. Meanwhile, your breath is shortening with every intake. 

At long last, Mace leans slightly forward. "We have asked you here for an assignment so critical to the survival of the Republic that it must remain secret to anyone outside this room." He pauses, letting his words sink in. "It will test not only your skills, but your ability to place personal relationships aside for the greater good."

Your relief at the sudden clarity that this meeting isn't a court martial is swiftly replaced with a whole new sinking feeling. The survival of the Republic. Not victory, not defense, but mere survival?

The whiplash must be all over your face, because Mace's expression hardens even further. "Commander?"

"Sorry - yes," you reply quickly. "I will do whatever is necessary. Whatever the council's orders, I'm ready."

Mace nods. "Very well." He takes on a new posture, even more solemn than before. "We have reason to believe that there is serious corruption in the Senate. More than we had ever thought possible. And..." He exhales. "We have reason to believe that the chancellor may be deeply involved."

You let the shock color your face, looking at each of them, waiting pointlessly for the comment to be corrected. There must be some mistake. If that were true...

"We have been informed the chancellor will soon be requesting that Anakin Skywalker be appointed to the Jedi council and made a master. As you know, Anakin and the chancellor have always been quite close."

You stare speechlessly. What he's implying simply can't be true. 

"Therefore, we will ask that Anakin use their connection to report back on any suspicious activity he may find surrounding the chancellor or any of his associates." 

He stops, seeming to gather himself before he goes on. "This council, however, does not have full faith in his ability to carry out his orders. And that is where you come in. We are assigning you to report on Skywalker's dealings with the chancellor. Some believe that it already may be too late to root out this corruption, and that Anakin himself may be too close to the chancellor to see things clearly."

Your voice comes out cracked, despite your effort to sound detached and impartial. "And what would my orders be?"

"To observe Anakin over the coming days and weeks, until we have a better idea of the nature of his relationship with Chancellor Palpatine. You will need to deliver all reports directly to one of us, in person. We cannot be certain that any of our channels of communication are uncompromised."

A cold sweat chills the back of your neck. This is wrong. This is all wrong. 

"I understand. However..." You shift your stance uncomfortably. "It... may be difficult to keep an unnoticeable trail on someone as strong in the Force as Anakin."

Mace and Yoda exchange an almost imperceptible glance. It was a misstep on your part. You knew it, even as you were saying it. 

You've spied on countless intelligent targets, force-wielding or not, and they're well aware from your reports that it can be done. You could find a million ways around Anakin's strength in the Force. It's a feeble excuse, and it's clear you're balking at orders to which you had earnestly agreed only moments before.

"If you don't believe you can do it-"

"No, sir," you interject quickly. "I can do it. I... simply wanted to share my concerns about the difficulties."

"Mm," Yoda grunts beside Mace. "Difficult this will be. Dangerous, in many ways. Certain, you are, in accepting this assignment?"

His bulbous eyes narrowing slightly, Yoda waits for your answer. You swallow, then nod. "Yes, Master. I am certain."

"Very well," Mace acknowledges. "You will receive our schedules of availability shortly. If you need to meet at an unscheduled time, use an encrypted channel, and codes no older than one week. May the Force aid you in your mission."

You bow your head and turn to take your leave. Two of the masters remain seated as you go, but Obi Wan stands to leave immediately. He heads for the door, outpacing you, but Yoda speaks up again, and you hold back while he hesitates in the doorframe. 

"Commander," Yoda croaks solemnly, "Acknowledge your feelings for Skywalker, you must. But allow them to cloud your judgement, you must not. An easy task, this will not be."

You trade a look between Yoda and Mace - Anakin's former master giving you a meaningful look in return. You lower your gaze to the floor for a moment, accepting the truth, and then meet Yoda's stare again. 

"But a necessary one," you reply.

Sadness envelops Yoda's features. "Proven right, I hope you are not. Proven wrong, I hope we all are."

Obi Wan stands in the doorway for a long handful of heartbeats, until you turn toward him, and he turns to leave. 

You walk slowly in his wake for a respectful amount of time, and when you're far enough from the council chambers, you begin striding down the hall after him.

Now is the time. You won't get another chance.

He's already halfway down the stairs when you find him, cape billowing with his quick steps. From a distance, he looks more myth than man - his armored shoulders are so broad, the dark fabric draped over them reminiscent of the warriors you've seen in ancient tapestries. The fading light coming through the wide windows of the temple bathes him in glorious hues trailing one after the other, and when you finally manage to close the distance, he's at the base of the stairs.

You force yourself to call after him, not allowing yourself to hesitate any longer. 

"Master."

His head turns, ripples of illumination gliding through his golden hair. Slowing his pace, he watches as you catch up with him. You nearly miss the bottom step, arrested by the way his eyes sparkle in the sunlight, despite the heaviness in his expression. 

"A word?" you ask him, keeping your tone light for those around you. 

He hesitates, and you can tell by his face that a word with you is the very last thing he would like. 

"Of course."

He glances down an adjoining hall to a private meeting room, and you follow him there. As he opens the door, he uses one hand to lift the heavy cape from his shoulder, brushing it behind him to allow you more space as you enter. 

Turning on the light, you see the room has been dimmed to better view the small holotable in the center, which is currently turned off. It's a tiny room, most of the space between the table and the walls taken up by chairs. There's a small gap where you can stand and face one another, practically up against the wall. You could move the chairs or find the light switch, but there's no point in wasting the time. You turn to Obi Wan as he comes up behind you instead, trying not to let the bare separation between you set your nerves further aflame. 

"I'm sorry, I know we agreed, but this is..." you start off, immediately hearing the tremble in your voice. "I needed to talk to you."

"About Anakin?"

It hadn't been about Anakin, but now it's about so many things.

"No. I mean, yes, now I..." You take a breath. "This is so hard to believe. That the council would ask one Jedi to spy on another. One of their own members, I should say." You shake your head. "That the chancellor would even ask such a thing in the first place."

Obi Wan sighs. "It is disturbing."

"It also seems strange that the full council wouldn't have met with me for such an important task," you go on, looking for a reaction from him. "Is that not strange?"

He crosses his arms, looking down at the table, then back up at you, seeming to deliberate before giving his answer. "The council... did not all agree on this decision."

Your face drops, your mouth nearly falling open in shock. He might as well have told you that the floor beneath you had opened up into cold, empty space. The council often had differing opinions, but to outright refuse to come to an agreement? To have members sit out while mandates were issued? It's unheard of. 

"We took a vote. When it was decided that this task could not be entrusted to Anakin alone, it was also decided that the identities of those who voted in favor should be protected in case there were... unforseen repercussions. Three members were selected to be directly involved, in order to protect the others."

This is making a little more sense, now. You don't have to ask how Obi Wan voted.

"I see," you answer. "You don't think Anakin..."

"Anakin would not betray the Republic. He would not betray his fellow Jedi." Both his gaze and his voice hold steady conviction. In the undercurrent of his words, a third thing goes unsaid: "He would not betray me."

You nod. "I know he wouldn't. That's why I had to take the assignment. If I hadn't done it, someone else might have." 

"Yes," he says quietly. "I know."

You search his face in confusion. If he'd wanted you to do this all along, then why does he seem so reluctant?

"When you came to me that night back on Ilum, were you trying to... warn me? Did you not want me to take it?"

Obi Wan's brow creases. "On Ilum?"

You toss a glance behind his shoulder to make sure the door is locked. "When... you said I called to you in the Force."

His expression drifts from confusion into concern. "I... don't understand."

You're about to take the hint and change the subject, inferring that he doesn't want to discuss anything personal inside the temple, until he continues. 

"When did this happen?"

The question strikes you as genuine, and all at once your grasp on reality feels tenuous. 

"Just two nights ago," you say, lowering your voice. You still aren't entirely sure he's not feigning ignorance for the sake of possible prying ears.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he says, shaking his head. "Two nights ago I would have been nowhere near Ilum."

"Not-" You try to shake off the air of unease that's settling over you. "Not in person. In a vision."

"A vision?" He still looks lost. "I've had no such vision."

You've been manipulated. That much is certain, now. By whom or what, you still aren't sure. 

Obi Wan is staring at you, waiting for your explanation. When you don't answer right away, he reiterates, "Whatever you saw on Ilum, I was not aware of."

You steel yourself, trying not to lose your nerve. Ultimately, it doesn't matter. What matters is that deep down, you know the future you saw was real.

"Whether you were involved in the visions or not, the message involves you." 

You take a breath. 

"Obi Wan, I need to ask something of you."

He tilts his head questioningly, but doesn't respond.

You stare into his eyes, heart racing. "Don't go to Utapau. Please."

He blinks, leaning back. "What?"

"These visions... I don't know what they mean, exactly, but I do know this: You can't go to Utapau."

He seems to consider before asking, "Why? What will happen there?"

"I... don't know," you lie, breaking his gaze. It makes your stomach turn to keep the truth from him, but the reality is that foreknowledge of his death wouldn't be enough to stop him.

"If you don't know, then why must I stay away?"

"I don't know exactly why," you tell him slowly, "but I do know that the Force is telling me something, and I need to listen."

He brushes a hand across his beard. "How long have you been having these visions?"

"Only recently," you lie again. You wish you could confess everything, but admitting how long you'd deceived him would only cast doubt on your message. "A few months ago."

Technically, that is when they became more specific. You tell yourself it's not a total lie.

Obi Wan still looks uncertain, but after a long time, he hesitantly says, "I... have no need to go to Utapau." 

Your heart swells with hope, until he finishes his answer. 

"But I cannot agree to stay away. I don't know what the future will bring. Neither of us do."

You squeeze your eyes shut, the urgency of your last chance to make him listen a red-hot stake in your chest. When you open them again, you try not to let your voice break. "Please, Obi Wan. If you... if you have any trust in me at all-"

"It is not a matter of trust," he corrects you. His tone is still gentle, but there's a note of reproach in it. "I will follow the will of the Force. Whatever that may be."

You know it's unfair to place this burden on him. In his mind, you're asking him to choose between his duty and his trust in you. But to you, they are one and the same.

"But that's exactly what it is," you insist. "Don't you see? The Force is showing me the way. And I'm listening."

"If the Force has a message for me," he replies carefully, "why can I not see it myself?" 

He looks at you, and suddenly in that moment you're transported right back to the Separatist base, where you've gone through all this before. He didn't believe in you then, and he doesn't, now. 

"You don't trust me."

"I never said that."

"How?" you ask, ignoring him. "How, after all we've been through, can you still not trust me?"

"Perhaps we should talk about this later." He looks unsettled.

"Please. I need to know. If I've done something-"

"You're upset," he interrupts, turning slightly away from you in the limited space he has, putting his shoulder pauldron between you like a barrier. "We should discuss this when you have calmed down."

"There might not be time later to discuss it," you press. "Obi Wan, I don't understand. Why won't you talk to me? You touch a hand against the cold armor covering his upper arm. "Why won't you trust me?"

He jerks at your touch, and you don't know who is more surprised by your sudden gesture. He turns back to face you, not quite shrugging your hand off, but making it clear you shouldn't have done it. 

"It is not you that I don't trust," he insists.

"Then why won't you listen to what I have to say? Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because I cannot trust myself," he admits, voice harsh, but eyes as soft as they've ever been. He casts his gaze to the side. "My own judgment. Not... not where it concerns you."

You stand frozen, not certain of his meaning. "Why not?"

"I would think it quite obvious," he says tightly, eyes drawing up to yours. 

You're certain this time the floor really has opened beneath you. You feel like you're floating. 

"And," you ask, voice half gone, "why should that affect your judgment?"

He says your name quietly, almost accusingly. He wants you to know the answer, because he clearly doesn't want to say it.

You're struck dumb, unable to reply. And you're suddenly very aware of how close you're standing. How dim the lights are. How electric the air has become.

"How can I trust myself to act with logic and reason when they've so easily escaped me before?" He goes on, soft and low. "Am I truly meant to know about this vision? Or am I defying the will of the Force right now, by speaking to you?"

You swallow, looking up at him. You don't reply. You can't.

"I must doubt everything. Especially my own thoughts. Especially where it concerns you."

Your heart is pounding so hard you're afraid it's going to climb up your throat. "You... you told me when I was in doubt, I should rely on the strength of the Force. That I shouldn't turn away. So, what does it tell you now?"

His mouth is a hard, set line beneath his beard, his eyes a torrent of emotions. Then he finally answers. 

"That I cannot allow myself, at this crucial moment, to think of anything but my responsibilities. That I must bind myself to my duty. And that despite all of this, you make me weak."

You're certain he meant it as a confession of his own failing. He didn't say it for the sake of driving you to the brink of sanity, but he's done it all the same. And your mouth is on his before you can even fathom resisting. 

You sink into him, tears nearly springing to your eyes as months of longing come surging back all at once. His lips catch yours, uncertain and warm and soft. His body is rigid, one hand flat on the holotable and the other hovering over - but not quite touching - the small of your back.

When you pull away, you're gasping. "I'm- I'm sorry."

He hasn't closed his mouth, and you haven't parted your bodies. Being close enough to breathe in his scent is making your head swim.  

"I'm sorry," you repeat. "That... I shouldn't have done that."

He shakes his head softly, just staring at you, but he doesn't pull away. "No," he agrees. 

"I've missed you," you whisper, and he closes his eyes, bringing his chin up and taking a slow breath through his nose.

When he looks at you again, there's a long, heavy, heated silence. You wonder if you've pushed past the point of breaking. If he'll send you away. You can't let this be the last time you speak. Not like this. 

Then he lets out a sigh. "I... tried to forget you." It's an admission that clearly pains him to say out loud. "When I left Ilum, I thought that I could keep my fond memories. That I could accept I would never see you again, and think of you only in passing. But with time, it became more difficult. I realized if I were to move forward, I couldn't trust myself with these memories. I would need to put you out of my mind entirely."

You swallow. His words are hard to comprehend. "Obi Wan..."

"And still," he says softly, locking eyes with you again, "I found myself thinking of you, in quiet moments, when I should not."

It makes you sick, how much you want him. This time, you lean in slowly, giving him ample time to back away. He meets your lips, and you taste his sadness, his unwillingness to make things so much harder for the both of you. But there's a heat and a desperation roiling beneath his movements that neither of you can deny, either. 

The room is quiet, the air practically throbbing with all the things you aren't saying to one another, lips brushing tenderly as if they'd never once parted. And after a moment's hesitation, he begins to kiss you back. 

As soon as he begins to respond, your tongue is desperate for more of him, and you dip into his mouth, making him moan softly. The sound makes you pull back to bite your lip, and you murmur against him breathlessly, "We shouldn't do this."

"No," he agrees between kisses, turning his body around yours to press your back against the holotable. "Not here."

"Then tell me what you said was a lie," you whisper. "Take it back."

"It was a lie." He sucks your lip. "I take it back."

You groan softly against his mouth. "Obi Wan, you're the voice of reason," you tell him, nearly teasing and yet utterly serious. You need him to have the strength to stop, because you have none. 

His hands come up to either side of your face, cupping you gently as he pushes you hard against the table.

"Darling, I am a wretched man."

He covers your mouth with his own, sliding his tongue deep and grinding his hips into yours, kissing you with a delirious, fervent hunger. You ruffle your fingers through his smooth golden hair and groan into his mouth as he parts your robes. 

When he takes you in his arms, it is against every tenet of the Jedi Code. He lifts you effortlessly up onto the table behind you, pushing your heavy outer robe from your shoulders, letting it sink into a pile at your back. 

"You were so beautiful before the council," he rumbles at your throat, sliding wet kisses from your jawline down, "I could hardly bring myself to look at you."

Your stomach flips wildly. You whine his name, gripping the armor covering his shoulders.

His gloved hand slides up your leg, dragging your inner robe over your knee. He grips your thigh, kneading softly, and then pulls back from kissing your neck to tear off his glove with his teeth. It falls to the floor and he looks back up at you, a lock of hair falling into his eyes. 

When he kisses you again, it's long and languid. He's taking his time, feeling every inch of your mouth, drawing out every sound you try to suppress. His palm is flat against your bare skin, stroking slowly up and down while his tongue slides against yours, until he finds the hem of your robe again and pushes it all the way up. 

When he dips his thumb to brush over the thin fabric between your legs, you're already dripping through it. He makes a hoarse, broken sound into your mouth, stroking his thumb over and over to feel more of it. You whimper, muscles tightening to the point of ache.

Your fingers are trembling as you drag them down the armor of his stomach until you reach between his legs. You can feel the clips that keep his codpiece in place, but after a short struggle, your desperation wins out. 

"Help me," you plead into his shoulder. 

He reaches down without any further urging and frees himself with reckless, hurried movements. Removing the armor and pulling down the tight blacks he wears underneath, he forces himself back between your thighs. With a steady hand, he tugs your underclothes to the side, burying himself inside you in one slow, firm stroke. 

Every thought of this is so terribly wrong is instantly drowned out by the feeling of him, right where he's meant to be.

His mouth falls open and you feel yourself throbbing around him, the wetness between your legs dripping down onto the inside of your robe. 

"Fuck," you bite out, overwhelmed, and he leans forward to kiss you, coating himself in your slick before he starts to move, stretching you with a deep, delicious ache.

Your own robes are falling back down around your thighs as he rocks slowly up into you, filling you so deep it makes you gasp while the heavy mantle draped from his shoulders brushes your knees. You drag your mouth away from his for a moment to drink in the sight of him as he thrusts into you, still wearing a glove on one hand and the emblazoned symbol of the Republic on his shoulder. Dashing. Regal. Covered between his legs in your dripping mess.

His body curls into you, both his hands now finding your waist and pulling you tight. The more he fucks himself into you, the more he pulls you off the table, and soon you're hanging off the edge, clinging onto him and whimpering your adulation into the hard, smooth surface of his chestplate. 

"Missed you so much," you cry out as he drives his cock into you over and over, the rawness of your confession made filthy with the sound of him rutting uncontrollably into your tight, aching cunt. "Thought about you all the time."

He moans, then stifles it halfway out, seeming to suddenly remember where you both are. "Stop. Don't- don't say such things."

"I did," you tell him, closing your eyes. One of your hands is clutching at his chest and the other is fisted up into a ball, tugging his cape as he crushes his hips into yours, pounding you into the table. "I couldn't stop thinking of you."

"Ah-" he tightens his grip, hips briefly losing their rhythm. "Young one, please-"

It suddenly occurs to you that he's not scolding you for your attachment. He's trying hold off at the brink of orgasm, and your words are getting him there. The words you'd never imagined confessing to him. The ones you'd buried so deeply for so long. 

"Obi Wan." You throw your arms around his neck and let him fuck you into oblivion. You kiss his neck and whisper into his ear, "Forgive me. I thought of you at night, when I couldn't help myself."

He comes, gasping, inside you. Your pussy spasms hard at the sound of his broken moans, the wet heat of his orgasm gushing into you. It sends you over the edge, your vision blurring white with pleasure. You dig your nails into his neck, sobbing senseless words as you come so hard it's almost painful. 

When you start to come down, your chest is shaking with every breath, and he keeps easing his cock in and out of you until you feel the warm spurts of cum pulsing inside you finally slow. You wish you could have felt him in the Force as he came, but of course neither of you could have risked lowering your guard and potentially allowing the hundreds of Force-sensitives on Coruscant feel it, too. For now, reaching out to hold your palm to his face and pulling him close to kiss him deeply as he leaks out of you, desecrating your robes, will have to do. 

When he pulls out, you're both still panting. He brushes the hair from his face and despite the guilt painted all over him, he's glowing. 

"Are you alright?" 

It's the last thing you'd expected him to ask, but so in his nature that you can't help but give a light laugh and kiss him again. 

"I'm alright."

For the first time in so long, you really do feel it. In spite of your uncertain future and the fate of the galaxy, in this moment, you truly feel closer to peace than you've ever been. Because you finally understand - your feelings for him can't be denied, or ignored, or fought. They just are.

He holds you for a long time, kissing you softly, and when he extricates himself from your arms, it's slowly and with great care. You cover yourself, wrapping back up in your outer robes. He's dressed again soon after, armor back in place, and he bends down to retrieve his glove, then looks back at you. "Are you certain you're alright?"

You ease yourself back to the floor. "I am. Are you?"

His gaze is torn as he takes you slowly back in his arms. "Yes."

You kiss him again, softly. "Then we're both alright."

He gives a sigh. "This... this latest of our mistakes..."

"We both knew what we were doing," you assure him. "And if it changes nothing, I'm not sorry happened."

His eyes widen just slightly, and he searches your gaze. "Darling, of course it- of course it changes nothing." 

His demeanor has shifted completely, and he's looking at you with such deep concern that it nearly makes you smile. You knew that things couldn't change outside of the two of you. What you had meant was that maybe this didn't have to be the end. That maybe this could happen again. Maybe it didn't have to destroy you. But before you can say as much, he's still speaking. 

"My heart," Obi Wan says quietly, "Would be yours, if it were mine to give."

Your knees nearly give out where you stand, and the planet seems to spin off its axis. 

"Wh- what?" you whisper. 

He doesn't repeat himself. Just looks at you with such honesty that it tears you apart. 

You gather all your strength to keep from begging him to explain further. There's something more important you need to ask again. Maybe, just maybe, he will have changed his mind.

"And... Utapau?"

The warmth in his gaze evaporates. There's a tense silence before he slowly answers, "I... will not make a promise I cannot keep."

"But," you start, "My- my visions... Obi Wan, you can't just ignore this."

"You are mistaking me for someone with a choice."

His words fall heavy on you. All of the hope you'd had a moment ago has vanished. He leans in to kiss you once more, but you hardly feel him touch your lips.

"We've stayed here too long," he tells you, sounding a million parsecs away. "Will you come to my quarters later? Perhaps we can meditate and find the answers we both seek."

You almost answer yes. The rest of the world seems so unimportant right now. A distant afterthought. 

But you have orders. Even if it feels like swallowing glass, you have to try to let this go for now, and focus on the greater good.

"I... should find Anakin. There are a lot of things I need to get in place first."

"Right," he says, stepping back. "Yes, of course."

"Tomorrow?"

He shakes his head. "I will be with the council all day."

A quiet beat passes between you. 

"We will talk again, when time allows," he says, with a finality that frightens you a little. But you remind yourself, he would not have said it if there was no hope. 

You kiss him again, long and deep, before you leave. 

"Be safe, Obi Wan."

He knows what you mean, and he doesn't reply. But he bows his head slightly to let you know he's heard you, as you walk out the door. 

--

The sun has set, and by the time you've reached your quarters to shower and change clothes, the temple is beginning to quiet down for the evening. So when you hear someone moving around in your quarters, it seems unlikely to be a friendly visit. 

Obi Wan would have knocked. Or he would have the courtesy to let you sense him. What you sense now is... cold. Dark. Empty. 

Your lightsaber, not yet activated, is in your hand by the time you step out of the fresher. You're wrapped in a clean robe, holding it tight. 

"Hello?" you call out, stepping into the main room. A shudder runs down your back when you get a clear sense of who or what it is. It's familiar, yet somehow different. His face isn't one that you recognize.

"Now, now," he says, smiling. "There's no need for that." He nods to the saber hilt. "No use for it, either."

"Who are you?" you ask, not wasting time with fear or confusion. You need answers. 

"A friend, my dear," he answers casually. "Here to congratulate you on a job well done."

Your eyes are fixed on him, waiting for him to make any type of aggressive move. "What job would that be?"

He quirks an eyebrow. "The job you begged of me, of course. To save your master's life."

You hesitate. "I... couldn't do it. I tried. But..."

"Trust me, child. It is done." He looks to the side, clearly pretending a thought has just occurred to him. "Well, nearly."

You try to resist playing this game with him, of question after question going unanswered. But you need to know. 

"What do you mean, nearly?"

Still holding a smirk, he strides closer. He knows he has you, now. He knows you won't strike him down until he talks. "Just what I say. That we have not yet reached the end. There is more to be done."

As he nears you, the chill that grips your spine nearly makes you take a step back. Your thumb twitches on your saber. But you keep quiet, and let him talk. 

"And to do it, you will need my help."

You bite the inside of your lip, choosing your words carefully. "And if I don't?"

"Then he will suffer."

Your blade explodes into light. "At whose hands? Yours?"

He hardly seems to notice your weapon, moving steadily closer and shaking his head. "Of course not." He stretches an arm toward you in what seems to be a peaceful gesture. "I can show you."

You hold your lightsaber steady for a long time, not answering. This is foolish and dangerous. You should lunge at him. Tell him to leave. Tell all of this to the council. 

You lower your arm. He steps closer, and the visions pass into your consciousness.

Flames. Lava. Cries of anguish. The pain of a betrayal so deep that it seems to wrend your heart from your body.

Flashes of blue, searing, with the intent to kill.

Hatred. Screaming. Death. No - not just death. The utter destruction of a soul.

The depth of the pain surges through you and you fall to your knees, hitting the ground with tears pouring down your face. 

He hadn't shown you anything. Not really. You don't know who has done this to Obi Wan. You don't have any idea of the events that will take place. All you know for certain is that it is real. A pain so great that death would have been a mercy. 

You swallow, wiping the tears from your eyes, and gaze up at the dark figure above you. "Who," you rasp brokenly, "are you?"

He tilts his head forward, looking down at you. "I have no name. Not one that can be spoken." He chuckles. "You've known my sister well. And your people knew my father long ago. So, I suppose you could call me... brother."

His answer only leaves you more lost. But there's only one thing that matters. "And you know for certain that all of these things will happen... to my master?"

He nods slowly. "Unless you let me help you."

Your chest is still pounding, throat burning hot with held-back tears. You lower your eyes to the floor, knowing the path you are taking can only lead to ruin. But a choice that would allow Obi Wan to suffer as you've just seen is no choice at all. Steeling your resolve, you meet his burning gaze. 

"What must I do?"

--

A/N: Thanks, as always, for reading. If you'd like to be added to the taglist (with only one chapter left lol) feel free to comment or message me.

On a side note, asks are still open if anyone is interested in my WIPs as listed here.

Taglist: @cosmicsierra @projectdreamwalker @guacam011y @thriving-n-jiving @reverieisaway @cursedcatimages @honeymoon7770 @hedvighedvig @cool-ontherun-world @ladytano420 @eddythewitch @impossibleprincess35 @thegreatwicked @mostthingskenobi @millercontracting @littleredwolf @b0xerdancer

<< Previous Chapter // Masterlist

[kurishiri]

n.1 . . . “ the betraying hunter is tempted by the death god ”

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: a bit of joking centered around drugs; if i took a shot every time victor’s eyes were compared to jewels, i don’t know how many shots it would be, but it would probably not be healthy /lh

Victor: Good evening to you. The full moon tonight is quite beautiful, isn’t it.

Roger: Yeah, to an almost irritating degree.

Though I didn’t have much of an eye for appearances, even I could tell this person’s face possessed a striking beauty. And collapsed at his feet,

was the criminal in euphoria as he died.

(There’s no stab wound or any sign of physical trauma. And yet… he’s dead?)

I was curious about the cause of death as a former doctor, but there were more pressing matters right now.

Roger: Would you happen to be the head of ‘Crown,’ which consists solely of Cursed ones?

Victor: Indeed, that is me.

The man flashed me a smile, and in a single blink of the eye—

Roger: …!

The distance between us closed, and he poked my nose with his fingertips.

Victor: Now, I have answered one of your questions. So, would it be fair to ask the same of you?

V: Entry is forbidden in this area even by the police…

V: …which you don’t appear to be one anyway. On top of that, you are not a member of Crown either, so what brings you here?

Those jewel-like eyes seemed to make the heart waver, and they seemed as though they could see completely through me.

(Well, not that I had any intention of faking it ‘til I make it in the first place.)

Roger: See, my dad’s a doctor. So I bring the deceased who have faced strange or inexplicable deaths back for an autopsy.

Victor: That is to say then that you come around when you hear any information on incidents happening out on the streets?

Roger: Yeah, that’s right. That said, I don’t actually have permission to step foot in here, unfortunately.

R: Getting permission would take too much time. I jumped over the fence back there.

Victor: ……… [surprised]

V: Haha, how nice, there’s nothing I like more than naughty boys.

The moment the air around us lightened up, I found the gap between my emotions close.

Roger: There’s a man named Alfons in there, right? He joined Crown a year ago.

R: He and I go back a long way, so that’s how I know of Crown’s existence.

Victor: Crown’s existence should be kept confidential, that Alfons…

Roger: No, he didn’t leak any information about Crown to me.

R: But I can hear sounds from up to a hundred yards away. Because I also hold an unnatural ability as one of the Cursed.

Victor: Hmm…

Roger: Will you let me join Crown? I’m sure I’ll be of use to you in some way.

In order to find a way to rid the world of Curses, I would like to have even just one more sample of a Cursed one.

As such, Crown — an organization consisting solely of Cursed ones — was the ideal place for me to be.

Victor: Crown is a place where the scent of death will follow you where you go. Surely not somewhere you’d choose to go to of your own volition.

Those jewel-like eyes questioned me: ‘And yet, why?’

(Best to keep things simple here.)

Roger: I’ve had a personal interest in Curses, so I’m researching them. You can call it the nature of a former doctor.

Victor: I see. Well then, this is the prime opportunity.

V: I’m sure the choice between taking another ally or having them die upon knowing the existence of Crown is an obvious one.

All he did was say those words with a smile on his face, and yet I felt the night air grow cold.

Victor: Seeing as you have the resolve, I feel you’re well suited for Crown. So, I look forward to working with you, Roger.

He held out his own hand, but all I could do was stare back at it.

Roger: …I’m pretty sure I haven’t given you my name, have I?

Those eyes that seemed to hold jewels simply smiled at me in silence.

The moment I took his hand, it felt deep and dark——the fragrance of night that told me there was no going back, that is.

When I safely joined Crown, my first step was to devise a plan to make a medical record for Victor.

But…

Roger: Victor, do you have time for an exami—

Victor: Ahh, Roger! I managed to get some valuable beer, so how about we have a drink together?

Roger: Beer? Dammit… I know you’re playing dirty.

—— Time skip ——

Roger: Victor, today’s the day you promised I could exami—

William: If you’re looking for Victor, he is currently abroad on orders from Her Majesty. He will return in three days time.

Maybe it was simply the nature of a hunter to have a strengthening desire to chase after those that played hard to catch.

Then, I found my biggest chance — Victor was accompanying someone from America who was a heavy drinker,

and rumors spread that he was intoxicated at the castle.

I approached a certain someone who was sitting with his eyes closed——but.

Victor: If you’re going to jump on someone in their sleep, you should at least spike something with a sleeping drug first, Roger.

His eyes, gleaming like jewels, suddenly opened.

Roger: So you are strong to liquor, aren’t you. ‘Cause if that’s the case, one sleeping drug wouldn’t cut it.

Victor: Oh my, I see you’ve finally managed to find out something about me.

Crown was practically a hub for some strange people, but this person’s enigma seemed to know no bounds.

Roger: Victor. Just what are you?

Victor: Perhaps I may be cursed, but on the other hand, I may also not be.

Roger: What’s that supposed to mean? You were the one who said Crown consisted only of Cursed ones, right?

Victor: Oh, but never once did I say that I was Cursed.

Roger: .........

R: ...You sneaky bastard.

(It’s not as though I’ve given up on finding out more about Victor.)

(But, I also feel it just can’t be helped that I only know so much. Because——)

I felt that he was bearing a darkness alone, one more deep than any of us could imagine.

Roger: ...Well, guess I should let it go as long as I can collect research funds. For now, at least.

I turned to the next medical record.

Roger: Elbert Greetia. Bearer of the Greedy Queen’s Curse.

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full masterlist 💀

[baby-tini]

I know your requests are closed and I'm so sorry if I'm bothering you bit I'm not feeling the best mentally right and your writing is a big comfort for me. Again if you don't want too I understand, but could you write Dazai with a suicidal/depressed reader, he's a really big comfort to me, thank you!!!

Don't worry baby, you're not bothering me, and I'm so honored you feel comfortable enough too ask for something like this. My inbox and DMs are always open if you or anyone wants too talk, I'm so sorry you're feeling this way love, I completely understand, and I really do hope that you feel better soon.

TW- Suicidal Ideation, Mention of Self-Harm, Depressive Episode

-He knew. He knew when you woke up that morning not as affectionate or loving. He knew, when the past couple of days seemed extremely hard for you too get out of bed. He knew when he looked in your eyes and he saw the same yearning for death that stared back at him in his reflection.

-You didn't have too tell him, but when he asked you if you were okay and you just broke in his arms, he knew. He called out of work that day, not even letting Kunikida get a word in as he hung up the call and laid you down in bed, where he proceeded too spend hours with you.

-He wouldn't make you talk about it, he'd ask if you wanted too talk, and he'd listen to everything that you said, wiping your tears away as he pushed the wet sticky strands of hair that were glued to your cheeks behind your ear.

-If you did wanna talk about how you're feeling and how everything just felt so meaningless, like you were doing so much for nothing. He'd listen, he'd listen to every word that left your lips as he nodded and would give his imput or ask a question every so often.

-If you didn't wanna talk about it, he'd understand, he doesn't really talk about his feelings either so he'll just let you lay on him and cry into his chest as much as you need. Softly running his hands through your hair as he pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head.

-He'd keep an eye on you for a while. A couple months if he had too, even if he could tell that you were happy and were no longer having those thoughts and feelings. He can't afford too lose you, you're everything to him. So even if he has too stop going to work for a while, he will. If he needs too take days off work for you and comfort you, he will, if being around him makes you happy, just ask, he doesn't really care that much for paperwork anyway, he'll just ask Atsushi and he really could careless for the consequences. There's a lot of people at the ADA, other people could work cases. You need him and that's all that matters.

-He understands the ugliness of depression, so he understands how you feel, maybe not completely but he can relate quite heavily to the topic, so if you need him too wash your hair as you sit in the bathtub, he will. If you haven't eaten, he'll order something for you, if you're not hungry, he understands but you'll have too eat even if it's a little bit. Just a couple bites and he'll be satisfied.

-If you're someone who likes too, or prefers too be left alone, he understands, because he's the same way. He'll let you be, but he won't leave you alone, he's not comfortable with that. He'll check on you quite a lot, even if it's just an, "are you okay" or a, "do you need anything" that he asks through the door. He's satisfied because he knows you're alive and he can hear you.

-He doesn't mind when the room gets dirty, if you don't have the will too do laundry or too even get up too brush your teeth, he gets it. Especially if he's also in a similar headspace at the time and he doesn't have the mental strength too get up and clean. It'll be dealt with when you both feel better, that's the last thing on his mind as he lays with you in bed, in the quiet room enjoying your soft breath against his neck as he feels your chest rise and fall.

-If you're someone who self-harms and you partake in self-destructive behavior, he'll be more on you. He will not leave your side. He will take everything that could hurt you and he'll hide it. Now, he knows you're an adult and you're capable of making your own decisions, but he can't take any chances, one wrong... move and you could kill yourself, and like I said, he can't take any chances.

-If you take any medications, he'll be the one too give them to you, he doesn't want too make you feel like a child but he understands that when people are in that head-space, they make bad decisions and they're desperate for even the smallest bit of mental release so they'll make themselves feel physical pain, but he can't let you do that.

-If you become actively suicidal and try too attempt on your own life, he will hold you hostage of sorts. He won't tie you up or anything, but he will keep you with him at all points of the day, he'd go days without sleep just too watch you and make sure you're safe. You are no longer allowed too be on your own, he doesn't want you too feel worse by making you think he doesn't trust you, because all he wants is too make sure you're safe. You can cuss and yell at him- even hit him if you need too, but he can't and he won't take those chances.. not with you he won't- he can't.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hello, could you write something about Thranduil if you would like? About how I take care of an elf who was cut short as a punishment and her hair was cut very short, even though she was innocent. This is a trauma for her, because for elves, and especially for elven women, hair is something very important. Of course, if you feel like it.

Since you haven't specified a timeline for when this could have occurred, I took some liberties with the HCs below. I hope you don't mind.

Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader

Themes: Angst | Soft

Warnings: Hair loss as a form of punishment | Bullying/Thranduil being a bit of a bully in the beginning.

🌿You were one of the Ñoldor, born years after the Kinslaying at Doriath, but still, you had been tarred with the same brush. You were forced to wander through the land as other elves wanted nothing to do with you and your kin.

🌿Your situation worsened after you found yourself in Greenwood the Great. You were captured after having gotten lost in the forests and brought before Oropher. As a survivor, he refused to believe your pleas of innocence, that you were born during a different time and played no part in the slaughter. He decides to make an example of you and orders your hair to be cut off. This was a horrific experience. Your hair was thick and fell past your waist. You took great care of it, styling it with flowers and what little you had for adornments. All of it was taken from you and you were put to work as a servant in his household.

🌿Oropher's son, Thranduil paid you no mind most of the time. The other times? That was when you saw another side to him. He was not overtly cruel, but he did not hesitate to throw hurtful barbs your way. You kept your head and endured. Having a roof over your head and decent food in your belly was more important, and you didn't know what kind of fate awaited one who insulted a prince of the realm.

🌿Once, during supper, he did go too far and your veneer cracked. You fled the dining room in tears. There was no apology, and you knew better than to expect one. However, the barbs stopped and all you got were icy glares.

🌿This continued until one fine day, evidence of your innocence came to light. Oropher learned you were born years after the Kinslaying and had nothing to do with the tragic events that unfolded in Doriath. The king, not wanting to be seen as unjust, apologized to you in front of his court. As for Thranduil?

🌿Thranduil avoided you, and when he could not do it, he avoided looking at you. It was a reprieve, a welcomed one, and you grabbed onto it with both hands.

🌿Then one day you found yourself being moved to better rooms, given better clothes, a handful of jewels, and even your few adornments. When you asked who was so kind, the servants refused to answer. All you were told was that you were to ask for anything you could ask for and that it would be given to you.

🌿 Despite this change in fortune, you kept to yourself, asking for very little and staying out of everyone's way. You did not trust the elves of Greenwood. Not them or their king or their crown prince. You were, however, all too aware of someone looking at you the whole time whenever you went about your day. When you turn, you'd find Thranduil looking away quickly, his cheeks turning bright pink.

🌿Then he came to you while you were in the gardens. He stumbled over his words, asking about your day, and whether your new accommodations were to your satisfaction. You were polite but cool, and could not get away from him fast enough.

🌿Little gifts would show by your door every morning. Little notes too. One of your gifts was an herbal hair tonic. The note that came with it encouraged you to use it, that it would make your hair grow faster.

🌿Thranduil will seek you out more often now. You kept up a wall, remembering the things he said and how he made you feel. Still, he was a lot kinder to you, introducing you to the other elves, and showing you around Greenwood.

🌿He would later offer to help you with your hair, when he came upon you in the garden, struggling with a braid. Frustrated and left with little choice, you accept his offer, albeit very reluctantly. He would take his time, weaving flowers and ribbons into your hair and telling you stories to keep you entertained.

🌿This too became a ritual, but a pleasant one. The two of you would go off into the gardens, and Thranduil would braid your hair while telling you stories. You find yourself looking forward to spending time with him. You finally open up to him, talking about your family, about your life. He would talk of Doriath, of what life was like under the reign of Thingol and Melian.

🌿He finally apologizes and asks for a chance to earn your forgiveness, for not believing you and treating you with little respect. You finally learn it was Thranduil who had you moved to your new chambers and had your belongings returned to you, and made sure you were looked after.

"Keep braiding my hair," you proposed, wanting him to put in the effort in earning your forgiveness, "And we will see."

[tcfactory]

I was talking with someone the other day and it got me thinking about something.

I generally run with the idea that part of the reason why Luo Binghe became THE target for Shen Qingqiu's abuse was because Shen Qingqiu fell for the 'white sheep' routine. Like, it was a lot of things all together: coming to the sect at an unfortunate time (Shen Qingqiu was in a mental health freefall because he was at a bottleneck and struggling to form his core, and here comes Luo Binghe with his perfect aptitude who's expected to blitz through all of the hurdles Shen Qingqiu sweated blood to scale), the pettiness he felt towards Liu Qingge when he picked Luo Binghe out (another bitter association), Luo Binghe having Ning Yingying right away as a friend and support (who stuck with him even against her shizun's orders!!) when Shen Qingqiu was all alone, the jealousy that however briefly Luo Binghe had a loving mother

and the crown jewel on this cake was that Luo Binghe, despite having suffered the death of a loved one and poverty on the streets, still seemed like a naive little ray of sunshine. And no matter what Shen Qingqiu does to him, he remains pathetic and vulnerable in the way that makes kinder people want to take care of him and protect him.

Shen Qingqiu is not a kind man and he knows intimately that the world isn't kind either. Not to pathetic children who don't grow up with the power of a rich family to put them somewhere safe where they can become pathetic, maybe well-meaning maybe not adults. To him it's the harbinger of failure.

The Luo Binghe he sees after picking him up is not smart, not crafty in the way he expects a street kid to be. He's not driven (wanting to make his late mother proud... motivation like that ought to fade with the memories. In four or five years Luo Binghe won't even recall the face or voice of his beloved mother and then Shen Qingqiu will be left with a child with no drive whatsoever). All Luo Binghe has going for him is his bright eyed optimism and his servile nature (which cannot, should not last in a cultivator) and his exceptional aptitude, which is useless on its own.

I struggle to believe that Luo Binghe was the first on the peak who was naturally talented (Shen Qingqiu's ruined cultivation base put him so far behind that even with his hard work, he lagged behind Shang Qinghua whose cultivation is mediocre at best). Or the first to have a support network of friends or a loving family. And as much as Shen Qingqiu resented them for having these gifts that he didn’t, he never tried to destroy them the way he tried to destroy Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe has all the tools of greatness and the hallmarks of failure all in one and it's that combination that triggers Shen Qingqiu's hate. Shen Qingqiu, in his rush to spite Liu Qingge, picked up trash that glitters. He can never admit to this mistake, so he decides that he's going to drive off Luo Binghe or destroy him, whichever happens first, because he can't imagine being stuck with this, this... pathetic little beast. One way or another, he will get rid of him before he can become a stain on Shen Qingqiu's reputation.

And we know how all of that turned out...

But what if he did see through it. Luo Binghe slipped up in his introduction and Shen Qingqiu immediately saw him for the white lotus that he was.

Shen Qingqiu knows the world, he knows its monsters and its beasts. So he looks at this child (not as weak and battered from his life on the street as others, the promise of strength and a bright future written in his meridians) pretending to be small and weak and pathetic and he's terrified.

Only the most dangerous predators pretend to be prey. He took a cuckoo into his nest, he accepted a wolf into his flock. Now it's his job to deal with it, before it grows fangs and bites the hand that feeds it.

He doesn't trust his martial siblings to listen to him on this, to hear him (unpleasant and sharp and biting, hated and hateful) out over the little beast (teary eyed and pathetic, pretty little thing you want to take home and keep safe).

He always did hide his fear the best with hate.

He will wear down this intruder until he can find out what his goal is and destroy him, before the beast can destroy them first.

It's almost a relief, when Luo Binghe stands on the edge of the abyss, his sheepskin torn and staring at him with the resentful eyes of a demon. It's the one moment when he doesn't hate Luo Binghe; he is a demon who will act as a demon does, as is his nature.

Pushing him into oblivion is

relief.

[itgirlgyu]

how i think txt would react if their female best friend sat on their lap

requested!

YEONJUN...

oh my god totally bitchless behavior coming in within 0.4 seconds

like this man will stop functioning, like is it normal to have your hands on the side?

tries to strike a pose

like daniel,, bby you're embarrassing yourself

swear he thinks he's like aha so fine

might lean back to play it cool

but you know he stiff as hell

like basically it's that dad pose when you know you've disappointed him and you're about to sit with him in a dark living room to soak in the immeasurable shame you've brought to the family.

his undergarment is drenched from stress sweats

might actually start stuttering

pls get off him before his dry sex life makes him pop a boner and the friendship gets ruined for life.

SOOBIN...

his head starts overheating due to overthinking the moment you sit on his lap like

the only two option were the floor where beomgyu spilled his drink or any of the dudes lap and he's your bestie boo so ofc you'd pick him

right?

tries to gaslight himself into thinking it's fine

like sure this shit is fine and it's normal to sit on each others laps.

but inside his head there are 4 tabs open, two of them are having a debate on the pros and cons of having your best friend on your lap and other two are playing tiktok random hits and he doesn't know which one he should tune in to

for the peace of his own mind, he tries to sit on your lap the next time

tit for tat he says.

BEOMGYU...

starts acting like you are crushing his thighs

he knows you playing so he's like aha two can play the game

girl you really thought you will outdo the doer

the og mr. mood breaker?

will straight up start moaning in your ears

starts squirming and whining like

'oooof my thighs are so fragile,'

does not give two cents about the place he is in

or the situation

or what people will assume

if soobin is the overthinker, beomgyu rarely thinks

its like his brain just takes off in a rush and it's taken over by the sheer need to annoy the fuck out of his bestie.

he's like the fly you can't just quite swat away

literally starts doing his own echo moan from one ear to another

you have to admit the defeat and get up on your own.

TAEHYUN...

will not straight up push you off him.

but the look he gives you, he might as well just put in the physical effort and do it.

his face is like, 'you did this for what?'

'why not?'

'why though?'

tries to get used to you sitting on him

like its chill

you're his bestie and he's a gym goer

so it does work out nicely

but the thing is like,

your back is blocking his vision

like its all chill and cute in movies but irl your sight will definitely get blocked and it has nothing to do with the person's height!

he tries to adjust so that he doesn't need to kick you off of him

and hurt your feelings or something

man is here jumping through hoops to seem effortless in order to continue his debate with hyuka about the importance of the balance between peanut butter and jelly in the sandwich

you see his struggle and move over on your own with a new found respect for terry the terrance taehyun kang

HUENING KAI...

he's looking at your head like, hmm you kinda sus

but that lasts like a whole lot of ten seconds before he's like nothings even on him

although he tries to smell the top of your head like what is the difference between a baby's head and an adult's crown

he is a curious little crow, it's one of his charms

makes a quick mental note to break it to you gently that you might need to take a lil bit more hygiene care on the top of your head.

he leans back

unlike yeonjun the daniel choi, he's fr chill

also man's broad as hell

he's like meant to be a chair at this point

you can lean in as much as you want on him and you know he would fine with anything

like he barely feels you on him anyway

you can probably just lean back on him and he'd cradle you like his first born

just maybe not kiss the top of your head

but he finally got an idea what to gift you on your birthday!

so it all worked out for the best!

© to itgirlgyu. feedbacks are highly appreciated and welcomed!!!!