#... at best most of the time but deep down would not want any true harm to come to him.

[seastarlily]

Random thought is random, but if Mr. Krabs acts as a father figure to SpongeBob (he outright states that SpongeBob is like a son to him multiple times), and Squidward acts as a younger brother figure to Mr. Krabs (not outright stated, but at least heavily implied with the fact that he's been Mr. Krabs's go-to babysitter for Pearl since she was an infant and the fact she canonically calls him "Uncle Squiddy"), then would that make Squidward and SpongeBob like uncle and nephew?🤔

(Not a shipping post - please don't tag ships of any kind)

[star-suh]

The Nastiest

Johnny Suh x Male Reader

cw: mafia au, reader is a sick pervert, dom top johnny, toxic relationship, enemies to fuck-enemies, knife play, “marking”, blowjob, pain kink(?), breeding, degradation, hair pulling, cum as lube, fingering, choking, dacryphilia.

an: this is in the same universe as this jaehyun mafia fic.

—

the city is dominated by many mafias but only two of them are the best of the best they're the most dangerous and respected by the other gangsters wannabes. in one of them there's a very skilled sick fuck pervert boy, he fucks anyone who passes in front of him… well except for one person, johnny suh.

he is part of the other mafia, a direct rival of the mafia yn belongs to, one thing about him is that he despises yn a lot. he has tried to kill him so many times but in the end he regrets it, arguing that “he does not deserves to be shot by one of his bullets”.

one day johnny was walking down the street when he heard whimpers in a dark alley, as if someone was getting beat up. yes, he was in the mafia but he is still a good person looking out for everyone's well-being, except yn's tho.

“hey what are you two doing” johnny pulled out a gun and pointed it at them, gesturing for them to leave, and they did. he turns around seeing how both guys were running and just when he was going to ask the other person if he was okay, the cold metal of a gun is placed right behind his head. "son of a bitch i was having fun", that voice... that familiar and disgusting voice… "it was you… if i had known, i would have let them kill you" johnny says it without any emotion on his face, hell, yn didn't even deserve his anger. "you say that but i know that deep down you want to do it" a twisted smile making its way onto his face, "you're right" in one smooth move johnny manages to take the gun from yn and hits him with his knee in the stomach leaving him lying on the ground trying to catch air "if you want me to kill you that bad, i’lll do it then” johnny points the gun at yn but sees that it still had the safety on, realizing that yn was only using it to threaten him and not to cause him any harm, but nevertheless he takes it off and is about to pull the trigger.

"wait" yn yells and proceeds to laugh and spit out some blood "didn't you say before that i don't deserve to be killed by one of your bullets?" to which johnny replies "the gun is not mine"; “before you kill me i have one last wish" yn crawls to where johnny is and then kneels, resting his face on top of johnny's bulge, acting as if he were a cat, rubbing his face on the crotch, feeling the heat of johnny's huge cock "i know you get hard in these situations, you're a fucking pervert you know" yn murmurs, "give me some of this and then you can kill me, i would die happily" johnny was disgusted, not because of how yn was acting but because of what he said, although he wished it wasn't true, it is, yn he knew him very well. “shut the fuck up bitch, last time i checked you're the pervert, a sick fuck who gets off on beating and killing people” johnny pushes yn to the ground again, “it’s unbelievable how you're on the verge of being killed but you still manage to think about cocks drilling into your used loose hole, the fuck is wrong with you”.

yn stands up, he turns around to leave but instead he throws himself at johnny and fight to take the gun from him, during the fight the gun falls a few centimeters away from them, yn tried to grab it but johnny was way stronger than him, the taller throws him against a wall, then pushes him against it and pulls out a knife putting it in his throat. “i'm so sick of that goddamn grin on your fucking face i'll have to cut it off”. when johnny made eye contact with yn he saw his red face and hooded eyes “you're face is like the one of a bitch in heat… wait… what the fuh...” johnny looks down watching his bulge rubbing against yn's ass, he then looks towards yn's watching how he was hard already, johnny laughs “that look on your face… i'm starting to think this is why you always want to fight with me.. because i'm the only one who knows how to treat you the way you like it, sick bastard”.

"fine… if you want me to destroy that used hole that bad, i’ll do it, maybe this way you can leave me alone” johnny finally gives in, despite everything he said before, he knew deep down he also wanted to fuck yn, it’s not a secret for everyone that yn is hot but his freaky personality is what makes everyone go away from him, but guess he has finally found someone who matches it.

“go rougher” yn pleads in a soft voice.

the taller one pulls out some zip ties to tie yn's wrist behind his back, “this is your last chance kinky bitch, just say this was all a joke and run”. yn didn't say anything. “on your knees. now”.

johnny pull out his big dick “suck it like the good slut you are” yn hesitated “what? why are you acting shy now?” johnny grabs it and put it to rest on top of yn’s face “open up, it's not gonna suck itself”.

little moans escaped johnny's mouth, yn knows how to use his mouth after all, “i wonder how many dicks have you sucked to know how to do it properly.. fuck.. you're so disgusting” yn was about to stop to talk back but johnny didn't let him and started to mouthfuck him “your throat is such a good fleshlight” he forces yn to deepthroat him, causing a bulge to form there. johnny grunts, pulling the other's hair so he can go deeper. “ooh hahaha your little friend here seems to like this, you're like a pain slut” johnny uses his foot to massage yn's bulge “do you jerk off after every fight we had?” johnny mocks loving how he can say anything without yn talking back at him, “this is a good use for your mouth” he murmurs.

sloppy wet noises coming from yn's mouth filled the dark alley. “look at you gagging on my cock, who would've thought that my neat would be enough to have you under my power”. yn just nods, all he wanted was finally becoming real, the johnny fucking suh is emptying his balls down his throat, something that might be considered a privilege knowing that johnny was known to be someone who doesn't have sex a lot and with anyone that crosses his path, despite having a lot of people lined behind him.

johnny pulls out and came on yn's face, grunting obscenities, “this is so humiliating for you, the cocky bastard yn covered in cum like a useless alley whore” he says in between pants, “maybe if i leave you here someone would find you and have some fun too, bet you would like that”.

“shut your ass up and fu-” a slap interrupts yn, “alley whores don't demand shit, they just accept what they're given, you deserve a punishment”.

johnny uses his knife to make a small cut on yn's cheek “it fucking hurts” yn whimpers. “that's the point dumb bitch, this way you would be reminded who owns you everytime you see yourself in the mirror”. yn was impressed to say the less, he knew johnny was freaky but not that freaky.

a wet spot formed in yn's black pants he tried to hide it but johnny noticed it, “did you just came just for me face fucking you? you're pathetic”...

“get up, i'm not done with you”; “i can't i feel weak, asshole” yn replies, “you're such a loser” johnny blurted out.

johnny pushed yn against the wall again, unzip his pants under and pulled it out along with his underwear, then scooped all the cum in his face to use it as lube, he smeared it in his dick and yn's hole, fingering it a little before putting all his dick inside “i'm gonna fuck you so hard you're not gonna be able to sit for the next week”. he put the tip first and then rammed himself inside, all at once, drawing a loud moan out of yn's mouth. “... fucking tight” johnny keeps pounding, his left hand leaving marks on yn's hip while the other was on his neck choking him. yn was starting to being loud, he was not being able to bear with johnny's powerful thrusts “shut up or i'll slam your head against the wall”; “n-no… no” yn manage to say, “what was that? i thought you were a tough guy ynnie?” the top once again mocks him. the feeling was so unbearable for yn that tears formed in his eyes and started to roll down his face, seeing this makes johnny so horny that he licked them from the other's face, then cupped the bottom's head with his right hand and turn him so they can make eye contact “you're being such a good sex toy, you're not that useless after all” then he kissed him.

right when johnny kissed him yn came hands free, “every time you touch yourself i want you to remember how i fucked you in an alley next to a dumpster like the piece of shit you are” johnny pounds faster “remember who beat you and broke you, now you would think twice after picking a fucking fight with me, you hear me?” after this johnny came inside, his moans were like the ones of a beast, damn he hasn't emptied his balls inside someone for ages. he pulled out and yn just slid down the wall, too weak to stand up.

“you look fucked up and disgusting, the freaky, tough guy ynnie just got obliterated by some cock" he laughs "… imagine if everyone knows about this… stay away from me and keep my name out of your filthy mouth” johnny got ready to go and leave yn there but he saw his face, that was still bleeding for the cut with some traces of seeat and cum, he looked so vulnerable a part he has never seen on him but he goes anyway.

yn was lost, he just got what he wanted but he was too tired to even celebrate it so he just smiled weakly and then fell asleep…

yn woke up in an unfamiliar room, it was a hotel room he got up and went to the bathroom, in the mirror there he saw he was already clean and the cut on his cheek was bandaged already he also took time to appreciate johnny’s marks scattered all over his body, smiling like a psycho when touching every single one of them. but yn doesn't remember how he ended up in a hotel room until he sees a card on the nightstand near the bed that reads *you owe me the money i wasted paying for your hotel room, bitch* it was from johnny. yn saves the card in his pocket murmuring a little “asshole” while leaving the room.

[witchofhimring]

Being the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen

Rhaenyra Targaryen x daughter reader (platonic)

Reader can either be read as the child of Laenor, Daemon, Criston Harwin or other

-As her only daughter you are especially cherished. The moment they place you on her chest she instantly, unconditionally loves you. While she does not have favorites, you are cherished.

It was with one last agonizing push that Rhaenyras only daughter came screaming into the world. "A daughter, your Grace!" With trembling arms Rhaenyra took her daughter from the midwife. Y/n Velarion's e/c eyes opened and Rhaenyra instantly fell in love. Secretly, she had always harbored hopes of having a girl. She knew the realm prayed for a son, but deep inside Rhaenyra yearned for a girl. A daughter to love and cherish and protect her from all that she herself had suffered.

-You are absolutely doted on my your mother. She makes sure you have the best of everything. She loves to order sweets brought from all over and give them to you in elaborately decorated boxes. She has you all decked out in red and black clothing. Rhaenyra likes to do your hair and make elaborate hairdos. Whether for a special occasion or any normal day she takes great pleasure in showing off how pretty you are!

Y/n squealed in delight as Rhaenyra pulled out a box. Knowing that it held some kind of delight behind its wooden covering you wasted no time in hastily opening it. Tiny hands seized the sugar covered fruits from Dorne. The mother giggled as with great enthusiasm Y/n chomped away at them. "Remember to share them with your brothers!" Rhaenyra called out to her daughters. "Gods I love her." Rhaenyra thought.

-Because of the political situation you are heavily guarded. Your friends/ladies in waiting are carefully picked amongst Rhaenyra's closest allies. From the time you are old enough to walk she hires a personal guard to follow wherever you go. This is especially true if Otto, Alicent or Criston Cole are near. Unlike with her sons I don't see Rhaenyra letting you near your uncles. Partly because it would be seen as inappropriate but also for safety sakes.

-Princess Rhaenyra, Princess of Dragonstone, eldest child of Viserys and heir to the throne, ran in great haste down the hall. She payed no heed to the sudden stairs of people. Most of the time she would care, but not now. Not when she noticed her brother Aemond speaking with her baby girl under the Weirwood tree. She did not know his intentions and frankly, did not care. None of Otto Hightowers grandchildren would be in any position to harm her daughter. "Y/n." Rhaenyra hurried down the path to see two children quite peacefully reading a book. Aemond was the first to look up and scowled. Rhaenyra didn't like it. Even something as innocent as this could insight trouble. Gods know Otto might even consider marrying the two if he could get away with it. A perfect way to tether the Princess of Westeros to himself forever. She would never let that happen.

-Obviously you will have a dragon from day one, if there isn't an egg already placed in the cradle. She will likely want you to have a new one rather than an older one. This is mainly because she worries an older one might be too aggressive and large for tiny you to manage. Of course she will take you for flight on Syrax, high in the sky. She uses these times to bond, even going on short daytrips for fun.

If she gives you an egg:

Rhaenyra cradles the large opaque egg in her hands. It was a good size, this dragon would be healthy. It was placed right beside the infant who was roused to the waking world. Her large e/c eyes focused on the egg with such intensity that Rhaenyra could hardly believe it. Her fingers brushed against the thin hairs that had just started to sprout up. Her little Targaryen.

If you claim your own dragon:

She would have preferred Dreamfyre. That dragon was so gentle and lovely, a perfect fir for her gentle daughter. Not fucking Tessarion. Anxiously Rhaenyra waited as Y/n advanced forward. The dragon keepers were on standby. But if Tessarion became volatile then......... The great dragon moved its head. The Valyrian coming out of Y/n's trembling mouth would barely be heard over the beasts rumbling. Horrified, Rhaenyra moved to intercede. But suddenly the dragon lowered its head and Y/n's hand placed itself on its snout. "Look mom! I'm a dragonrider!"

Riding a dragon with her daughter:

At five years old Y/n mounted a dragon for the first of many times. Rhaenyra had been hesitant. Normally Targaryen's took their children on a flight during babyhood. But in her anxiety Rhaenyra waited until her daughter was slightly older. She had a small harness made for the baby and herself. Part of Rhaenyra didn't want to stay on the ground, but Y/n was a Targaryen, a Valyrian ancestry going back thousands of years. The dragons wings expanded and in a great bounding leap Syrax was in the air. Y/n's small form was shaking and Rhaenyra wrapped an arm around her. They stabilized once above the clouds. Y/n finally had calmed down. Soon, she was giggling and enjoying the height. Rhaenyra smiled.

-When it comes to betrothals Rhaenyra will wait until you are grown before any of that comes to fruition. Like her father she will let you chose. That is, up until the events of episode 7 where Vaemond makes his bid for Driftmark. Even though she will not be aggressive about it, your attention will be directed to Cregan Stark. Of course you will get the talk, and what to expect during pregnancy/childbirth. Your also likely to get a new wardrobe. This is even more expected if where your moving to (think Winterfell and Dorne) has a drastic change in weather compared to Kingslanding/Driftmark. If you do end up married then she will make frequent visits to where you live.

Everyone bellow was mingling during the Red Keeps most recent party. Everyone except for Rhaenyra and Y/n. Mother and daughter observed the happenings bellow, talking in low voices. "Have you met anyone who appeals from you?" Rhaenyra closely watched her daughters expression. Y/n's eyes skimmed the handful of eligible bachelors that a Princess of the realm could take. "Hmmmm. Uncle Aemond is looking rather appealing these days." Y/n jested. Rhaenyra snorted. None of Otto's grandchildren would ever taken her daughter to wife. Only last week Alicent had requested a possible betrothal between their two children. As far as Rhaenyra was concerned, that would only happen over her dead body. "Who is that?" Rhaenyra's eyes lit up. Now this was a much better match. "That is Cregan Stark."

Extra

What is your fathers relationship with you (excluding non cannon father)

Harwin Strong:

Like with his sons he is very close with you. Your his only daughter and so he is very protective. He will hold you as a baby and try to be there for everything. First words, steps and your progression into adulthood. He likes to carry you on his back during his time off. Even though you are a girl you will likely be taught to fight if you so chose. Although that will be in secret. I think that as the daughter of Rhaenyra and Harwin you will feel like you all are a great big family.

Leanor Velarion:

Your his only biological child. Because of this the family dynamic will change, with Laenor being far more involved with his family.1* Rhaenyra and Rhaenys will push hard for him to be a good father, the best he can be. Its a rocky start. But he gets better and does his best. Your time together is usually one on one with Laenor. Stuff like taking you on dragonrides and going to Driftmark.

Criston Cole:

This one is a doozy because he can't be sure until you are older that your his (given that Rhaenyra's likely got involved with Harwin shortly after marriage). But once he finds out....wow. Because as much as he loathes Rhaenyra he can't bring himself to hate the daughter. He will, very subtly, try to ingratiate himself to you. This will be sneaky and behind Rhaenyra's back. Of course Alicent will get wind of this making Otto aware. He will absolutely try to use this to his advantage. This of course puts Criston in a very difficult position.

Daemon Targaryen:

This pregnancy takes place shortly before the marriage to Laenor, meaning Rhaenyra was pregnant although very early on. I have a feeling Daemon might not even know the baby is his, thinking it is Harwin Strong's. So he as nothing to do with you until the funeral of his second wife. It was there that Rhaenyra reveals he has another daughter. The reason he was not informed earlier is because she was worried someone might get ahold of the note and Daemon was in Pentos all this time. This revelation will be surprised. When your parents marry he will take an interest in your education. You are expected to be an example of pure Valyrian, perfecting Valyrian and being a dragon writer. The two of you will sometimes read together and he likes to tell stories of his adventures.

Note: I'm gonna make one for Alicent and maybe Aemond. If you guys want me to make any more of these then please feel free to requested☺

[cameronspecial]

I wanted to ask if you could write something with rafe where reader does selfharm and he finds out? Maybe with a soft version of rafe

Not Going Anywhere

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SELF-HARM and Talks of DEPRESSION (Please don't read if these are a trigger).

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: If you or anyone you know are experiencing depression, then please know you are not alone and there are people who can help. The internet has information on the best places for you to go to in your country. Not tagging anyone just in case this is a trigger for anyone on my tag list.

Masterlist

It isn’t for attention. That is one assumption most people make whenever they see the scars. It’s the reason why she hides them on her hips. She doesn’t have to worry about anyone seeing it because no one sees her naked, not even her boyfriend. The only times the marks see the light of day are when she changes or showers. She makes sure the cuts made can be hidden by her underwear and any panties or bikini bottoms she buys need to pass that test as well. 

No matter how wrong she knows it is, she can’t help but hold the cold sharp blade against the tough skin. It is resting on top of a barely healing scar because she has no other place for it. Her breath hitches as she pulls the Exacto knife across her, going a little farther than the mark already made. Tears are running down her face. Her eyes blur as she repeats the motion below the blooming red line. Her breath is uneven and hitches every time the metal touches her skin. In some sick way, the pain gives her a small relief. It gives her a reason.

Most people wonder why someone would cause harm to themselves. They would guess that the despair is caused by a lack of food, shelter, money, clothes or love. However, Y/N doesn’t have that issue. How could she when she is a kook? No, she has never felt hunger or fear and that is the cause of the turmoil inside of her head. Nonetheless, ever since she entered teenhood, she would experience these months-long periods of extreme sadness. She would do her best to hide them from everyone by pushing herself to get out of bed and go to activities that she would normally enjoy. She would make sure to cry when no one else was at home and to track her family members’ phones to verify she was alone. It was a secret she kept so deep within her that she started to question why she felt this way. That is when the true problems began. She felt guilty for feeling this despair without a reason and it was furthered by the secrets she had to keep, so she began to self-harm as her reason. In her brain, partly because of what society has told her, she needed a reason for why she was melancholy because there are people in the world who were dealt much tougher times in life. 

So, that is how she finds herself standing in front of the mirror, holding down the right side of her underwear and dragging an Exacto knife along her skin. She has fallen into one of her episodes and this time, it is the worst one to date. She has never pressed so hard into her skin with the blade. It has never bled this much. She curses as the blood begins to seep into the cotton of her underwear. Her attention is on stopping the red from staining her clothes, so she doesn’t hear the front door open. 

Rafe whistles whilst he uses his copy of the key to open Y/N’s front door. People thought it was too early when they exchanged house keys after only six months of dating. They didn’t though. It felt like the next step when she told him that she was saving herself for marriage. They found a different way to reach a new level of intimacy and it worked for them. Her house is eerily quiet and dark. Normally, she keeps the hallway lights on when she is home and if she is watching TV/listening to music, it is so loud that it could make a deaf person hear. He doesn’t let the lack of normality stop him from making his way to her bedroom, thinking nothing that her door is closed. He uses the doorknob to push it open and he is surprised to see her standing in front of the mirror with her hands pressing against her hip. It takes him a second to process that blood stains her hand. His shock turns to worry as he rushes to her side. He trips over something in his attempt to get to her and looks down to see a bloody Exacto knife, like the kind she uses to cut things for her art. He kicks it away and removes her hand from her side. He curses at the amount of blood. This needs stitches. 

“My love, what happened?” he asks, hoping the theory he has isn’t true. He sees the tears running down her face and the way her mouth opens and closes. She has no idea how to answer. The hiccups of her crying make it even harder. Instead of waiting for an answer, Rafe washes his hands and gets the first aid kit in her bathroom. He uses the bandage wrap inside it to catch the blood, instructing her to use it to apply pressure whilst he guides her to his car. The drive to the hospital is silent. 

———

Y/N told the medical practitioner the truth as to how she got the cuts and scars. She couldn’t lie with Rafe in the room. He had offered to step out, except she asked him to stay. She was tired of lying. It only added to her exhaustion. Y/N didn’t have to say much before the doctor excused herself to get a hospital psychiatrist. Rafe said nothing as she described the anguish she felt. He felt a sharp stab to his heart at every word she said, criticizing himself for not seeing the mental pain his girlfriend was in. 

With the doctor gone, he speaks up. “Is there anything I can do right now that can help you feel more comfortable?” She appreciates that he doesn’t assume that there is an easy fix to this or that at the moment there is something quick he can do to make her feel better. His focus on her comfort causes a flutter in her stomach. She nods, “Can you just hold me?” He joins her on the hospital bed and pulls her to his side. The buzz of the lights is the sole thing that can be heard for a while. “This isn’t your fault,” she clarifies, concerned that he might think it. He kisses her temple, “I know. Thank you for trusting me enough to be in the room when you told the doctor what happened. This isn’t your fault either and you are so brave for asking for help. If you want, I will be here to help you every step of the way.” A different kind of relief comes over her. She feels a glimmer of hope that she doesn’t have to do this alone. “I want you here,” she whispers, pressing her face into his side. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

[nothanksjohnny]

Hello! I saw your post on what if transformers saw as weird like guys who eat living things and hunt their friends.

Which was very fun to read, but do you think would happen if they saw a child’s child tooth fall out? Like Raf came up to Ratchet bloody mouth and holding a tooth up?

Id imagine most cybertronains would range from " get me the fuck of this planet" to " humans are disgusting" with a few in-between emotions and reactions. While I've enjoyed the headcanon that cybertronains shed like reptiles or insects leading to scars slowly fading from their permanent finish as well as adjusting to growth and upgrades that has occurred since the last shedding. Although teeth is a interesting addition to out metallic companions. While I've theorized that denta can aid in crushing raw energon and desperate need of fuel as well as just eating normal snacks on cybertron. Like lead sulfide crystals that are described to be quite the treat. As well as rusk sticks and so fourth.

While in the TFP universe if we consider how the team is a bit new to earth I'd imagine understanding human biology isn't something that was confronted. Even with other instances where cybertronains have resided on earth for a long period of time it seems beyond humans going "squish and crush" when you step on us most cybertronains lack any understanding of us and other organic life. Even decepticons have expressed discomfort at how we work. If taking into knockout looking up how we interface gives any window of how they feel.

When Raf was struck by dark energon it caused a great panic within all the bots. I'd imagine it was more that just seeing their companion ill and hurt. I'd imagine it was a new kind of fear. A hopelessness of not understanding, unable to help because your scared you'll do more harm than good. You don't know what's wrong and you can't help but get angry or shut down. Which is shown by Bumblebee who was quick to want to return the favor to Megatron. Ratchet showing high stress and frustration because for once he truly can't help. He can't help the very child who's helped them to many times. He isn't a medic at this momment. He's a bystander and that hurts him. Prime himself upon first sight of Rafael is scared. Rare to show emotion the widening of optics is a rare sight so deep into the war. While giving aid to Ratchet by assuring him being calm is best it's clearly shown Optimus is frustrated of this situation.

With time I'd imagine some instances of humans being humans occurs. Such as loosing teeth. By age twelve most children have lost their center incisors,lateral incisors, upper and lowered molars. Leaving the upper canines to fall out around age twelve. Knowing how teeth seem to love to fall out at the most random of momments id imagine this would be true with Rafael. Maybe after being picked up from school he got hungry and decided to eat a apple until later in the day where he,jack and Mike would be driven home and eat dinner or whatever they could find as a final meal. To give our senior medic and spark attack I'd find it more hilarious if this happened while he was at the base alone with the children. Muscle( what is the equivalent of muscle for cybertronains?) Memorie of everyday activities playing within the bass until a cruch and " oh just lost my tooth" seems to echo within the base.

Maybe it wouldn't have been as terrifying for the medic if their wasn't so much blood. ( cough exaggeration) Now poor Raf is being grabbed like a kitten who's mother is worried and now is being scanned for what's wrong. All he wanted to do was show his last of his baby teeth. The apple being to dense for his gums to be able to hold onto the tooth when he continued to bite. Now he's forced to sit on the medical birth as Ratchet is cursing in cybertronain. Fumbling with equipment as he once again realizes he doesn't have the right tools to help the child. This brings upon early times in the war when sparkling where harmed. Hurt and weeping for their lost or dead sires and creators. Bleeding and so small that it was difficult to get ones servos on the machines or equipment specifically made for them. So many parished. Reliving when all he could do was hold them and coo soft songs as their sparks dimmed and went out. The days when both decepticon and autobot could see the pain in each other's optics. One of the reasons why some became neutral unable to bare either insignia due to the young deaths.

A hurt sparkling meant death. And currently Rafael is hurt. Now Ratchet is holding child sparkling and cooing in cybertronian. Still scanning but slightly relived when he comes to find the bleeding has slowed and is stopping as time passes. Yet as the show has shown. Timing isn't always on their side. The beeping of the need of a ground bridge. Rafael tucked close to his chassis while the other begins ground bridge. Jack and Miko seeing the grumpy medic being so motherly..certainly has made then scratch their head. The action of losing a baby tooth was normal. All that was needed was a tissue and maybe some ice to help the pain a bit. Not to mention how frighten the medic had gotten upon first realization of Raf losing his tooth.

Once the rest of the team was informed of what had occurred a new found fear and respect was given to their human companions. As well as a brief explains from June on how yes it's normal for children to lose their teeth. No a child's teeth shouldn't just all fall out at once. And yes I'll download some medical books for you to read.

[supersoakerfullofblood]

Why You Shouldn't Care About Theme (as a writer)

"Theme" is another word like "worldbuilding" and "plot hole" that writers put way too much stock into without clear definition. It's often thought to be one of the most important things in your story, one of the defining traits of creative writing, but it can be hard to pin down, and some pervasive definitions are actively harmful to the writing process. Let's talk about that.

A common misconception about theme is that it's the story's "message." Under this definition, a theme of The Great Gatsby would be that generation wealth is a hollow substitute for genuine human enrichment, love, etc. A theme of Hamlet would be to not kill yourself. But this idea of a book's message misses the point of why we read at all. Reading is a relationship between the author and the reader; to interpret text, the author puts their experiences in writing, and you bring your experiences to its reading. In other words, you as the reader create meaning from a story. You give the story its messages. The author's only purpose is to transcribe their worldview and experiences, and the best authors can sway the empathy of the reader towards those experiences. Anything greater than this, any book that moralizes, preaches, dictates, is gaudy, emotional propaganda. Imagine a novel where throughout the book, the author is telling you about the toxic environmental effects of unwalkable cities. While true, narrative fiction is a realm of characters and story, not essays. Readers pull meaning from a novel because they think and feel about a character's struggle and relate it to their own. So a message about The Great Gatsby is that generation wealth is hollow because we as readers live in an age of unprecedented wealth disparity; a message about Hamlet is to not kill yourself because we as readers have felt pretty down in the dumps sometimes and have maybe thought about suicide. But our experiences could be different: if we're generationally wealthy, we might read Gatsby as a celebration; if we have an awful stepfather, we might read Hamlet first as a story of revenge than of introspection. Strong authors make you sympathize with the experiences they've gone through--Fitzgerald himself was a wealthy, popular man and saw firsthand the effects of wealth, and Shakespeare probably felt rough around the emotional edges at times--but ultimately, deciding a text's "messages" is up to the reader.

So if we can't control the messages of our writing, what is theme? I like to think of it as "whatever a text is about," and that about word carries some ambiguity. Is Gatsby about money? Yes, but there's more to that. You can think right now about a plot element your WIP is about, but as authors, we want to find that greater depth. That's what we call theme.

Common writing advice tells you to plot out your theme, that greater depth, before drafting the novel. Figure out that Gatsby is a story about generational wealth being a hollow substitute for romance before anything else. But when you think about it, this is crazy advice. Themes like this can only come from our characters and how they interact with the world, and how our characters act is always going to stray in some way away from our plans for them. Writing that deeper theme, then, is impossible to plan (unless you're the most extreme plotter and have found success like that, then keep doing what you're doing. But you reading this almost certainly are not in that camp, let's be honest). So how do we get there?

Before you start drafting, think about the surface-level "abouts." Don't go deep yet. Just think about what's pressing on your mind. If you want to take a very slight moralistic bent here, do so, but be sure not to go into specifics (that's for the characters to do). For my first novel, I wanted to write about friendship responsibilities, family responsibilities, and friendship; for my second novel, church camp, romance, and evangelical culture; for my current novel, the role of story in culture, honor, familial trauma, and cultural perceptions of gender. Some of these took on moral detail--evangelical culture is bad--but most didn't. As you're writing, your characters will discover that deeper meaning. Again, your characters have to and will by nature of being part of the narrative. Your readers interact with the story, not with you.

In my first novel, I came to the thematic conclusion that too many responsibilities degrade individual identity, but too few leave someone empty; in the second novel, I concluded that evangelical culture places restrictive boxes on what romance looks like, and on how to interact with and resolve traumatic events. But I didn't come up with these--my characters did, and I learned from them in the exact same way any reader would. Similarly, a reader might interact with my characters and come to completely different conclusions. This is normal, okay, and encouraged.

You may also find other themes popping up as you write. In my second novel, popularity and social capital became a huge cog in the machine. Let these fresh themes surprise you, and run with them.

Ultimately, you can't control what your readers take away from your story. Your goal as a writer is to create characters so rich and deep and intimate (not in the romantic sense, unless you're into that) that the reader can bring their experiences to the text and find meaning. We cannot worry about this before starting a writing project, because we can't control it, and thinking too much about it will muddy the waters of what actually matters, what we can affect. And when you start to sense those deeper meanings emerging in your story, run with them, flesh them out, and embody them in the struggles of characters.

[nomoreusername]

Not Proud

⚠️ Self harm ⚠️

Pairing:Newt x female reader

Summary:As you're ready to give in again and cut, Newt catches and comforts you.

Requested by @newts-limp

I wasn't proud of it. Not in the slightest bit. If anything, I was ashamed, but I didn't know how to stop. There's just something about the blade that seems to call to me, telling me that it was the only thing that would ever understand me.

And maybe that’s true. Maybe I’m so addicted to this thing that it truly is the only thing that matters. Maybe it's the only thing that can take the pain away. If I focus on this pain I don't have to think about the other kind. The kind on the inside that makes me want to close my eyes and not wake up.

I’m not suicidal. I don't think so, but I wouldn't exactly mind if something happened to me. I just don't have it in me to care anymore. I don't have it in me to have hope that anything good will happen soon or at all. Getting out and being actually happy and meeting other girls all feels like some dream that I’ll never get to reach.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath as I held it over my waist. It wasn't healthy. It wasn't good for me. It wasn't a solution, but I had to. I needed to do this. I had already gone a week without it, and if I didn't cut soon I was going to go crazy. I was going to lose it. I was going to do something worse than even this.

They itch. The cuts itch the most when they're healing so I just won't let them heal. It's as simple as that. Just like it's so simple to drag a blade across my stomach until I don't want to die.

I was desperate. I was really, really desperate.

I know it's wrong. I know it's an addiction, but I won't quit. I can't, but I don't need to. This isn't going to kill me. This isn't hurting anyone, and it's like I have something to fill the void inside of me. It's fine. It's fine, it's fine, it’s fine.

Taking a breath, as I went to do it my hut door opened. Frozen in disbelief, I stared at Newt who stared at me, holding my shirt up and placing a razor on my stomach. That also meant fresh cuts and old scars were on display, revealing to him just how messed up I actually am. Even though I was the best at hiding it, there was no way to brush this off.

“Hi,”I got out, managing to put my shirt down. Then, before either of us could say another word, I broke down. As I was shaking I heard my razor clank to the floor, gravity taking my biggest curse and worst blessing. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I kept mumbling incoherent apologies.

“It’s okay. It's okay, love. It's okay,”He said quickly, shutting my door and sitting beside me. Shaking my head, I kept wiping my eyes just for more tears to follow.

“It's okay. It’s okay. You're alright,”He repeated. As I buried my face in the crook of his neck the lump in my throat, along with the guilt in my stomach, seemed to get worse as he rubbed my back.

“I’m sorry,”I repeated.

“It's going to be okay. I promise. It’s all going to be fine,”He soothed. With my harsh sobs turning to sniffles, I kept my eyes close as I clung to him. Not even about to speak, I essentially shut down. While this usually happened when I was done feeding my mind and body's demand for pain, I was just so drained from it all. Knowing I had been caught was surreal, but I also knew that some things would probably change. Things I probably didn't want.

“Y/N, let's go to sleep?”He suggested. Not seeing the point in saying no, I nodded my head. I mean it wasn't like I was going to be getting any words out anytime soon. It wasn't like I even wanted to.

Laying down, I kept my head in his neck. With his arm still around me, he traced hearts on my skin, making sure his hands didn't touch my waist.

“I do love you. I will always love you. Nothing anyone says or does, even you, could ever make me stop,”He whispered. Keeping my eyes shut, I took a breath as I accepted that right now was the most peaceful I had felt in a long, long time.

I could never bear to lose him. Ever, ever.

But if I do in the future, I have him right now. He’s with me, and that has to be enough to make everything just a little less terrible.

[dannyboy-writes]

Of thrones and dragons

Daenerys x male Dragonrider reader who's from ulthos? I will probably make a part to of this who knows

Ser Jorah had told Daenerys tales of Ulthos’ weather. The thick jungle.

Trees taller than she had ever seen and the murmur of wild creatures bristling her skin. 

Countless thoughts running through her mind. But one most present. She should’ve brought Drogon with her.

Click.

A broken branch? A booby trap? Or something else?

“Nobody move,” she whispered, raising an eyebrow at Greyworm.

A bright orange ray shone above them. Almost like sunlight.

Definitely warmer.

“Maybe he wasn’t a myth,” Missandei spoke softly.

Suddenly the beast dropped in front of them, with the Unsullied unpacking their spears, and Daenerys tensing all her muscles. Bracing herself.

Dark green scales covered the entirety of your dragon. His face stoic and with gritted sharp teeth. 

He was breathing slowly, Daenerys noticed. Calm, deep breaths.

But his eyes were focused on her. 

And not only his’, she realised. 

You dismounted softly from your beast, ignoring completely the army in front of you. Their spears were sharp and in your direction. 

Every soldier was looking at you more menacingly than the last.

Your eyes however, were focused on her.

Long, pale hair, with braids as long as her waist. Falling completely over her back.

Her eyes were inviting, but there was a tint of worry. Of uncertainty.

You shifted your eyes towards your beast, caressing his side slowly until he calmed with you.

“Are you y/n?” She asked.

Quickly your eyebrow raised in your forehead. “Who are you?”

“I’m Daenerys, of house Targaryen. Blood of Old Valyria.”

“And what brings you to the wilds, your majesty,” you mocked.

“I’ve been searching for you for some time. I was starting to believe you were a myth.” She stopped. “Or a ghost.”

“Ah,” you smiled. “And what’s to say I’m not.

“Terrible dangers lie in this land. Untamed beasts and whatmore.” You grinned.

“And tamed ones?” 

“Oh, yes, those tend to be the worst. But don’t worry, Wildfire here won’t do you any harm,” you smiled, patting your beast. “Nor will I.” 

She smiled and called down her army. “I am in search of a dragon rider, some people called him the best and mightiest of them all. I’ve heard tales of the riders of Uthos.”

“Oh, did you? What did you hear if you may?”

“I heard the forests of Uthos had beasts so swift that their scales blended in with the greenery. And their riders had unmatched skills. Like nothing ever seen in the entire world.”

“Yes, that is true. And why would you need a dragon rider with unmatched skills.” You asked, “Blood of old Valyria you said, you’re supposed to have dragons as well. Although your kind faded with time, I assume the dragons remained.” 

“Sadly, no.”

“Whoever told you that is a liar, and you a fool for believing them. Dragons will outlive us all. Just as we outlive birds, and them ants. It’s the way of the world.”

Her face went stoic. “Will you help me in my quest to conquer Westeros, y/n?” She inquired.

You laughed, “Why would I, I don’t give a damn about Westeros. I don’t even know you, for all that.”

“You could have a throne,” she offered.

“I have a throne, or do you see me taking you to speak with someone about this? Why would I want another one? And one so distasteful.” You grabbed a stone from the ground throwing it lazily, “Why do you?” 

[cottoncandybitchfuck]

Neverafter

“Because you were lied to does not mean that everything was a lie. Do not take the crimes of those who have manipulated us and put them at the feet of the world." -Cinderella

“The real friends, the ones that make miracles happen, the ones greater than any treasure you could find on any adventure, they see the wolf in you and love it too.” -Grandma 

“Purpose, true purpose is always down the scarier path through the darker part of the forest.”-Grandma 

"You are seeing something you absolutely should not see, the face of a divinity you do not worship, the smile of a devil you never believed in." -DM Brennan

“The face moves as though no expression of contempt can satisfy it.” -Brennan

“Real? I don’t give a shit. I don’t come from a nice story. I believe in you, and I believe in me, and I think we’re just real enough.” -Scheherazade 

“The thing that’s approaching you, It’s not as vast as what you perceived in the ink, but it’s closer to that than it is to you. And the problem with this thing is that unlike the things in the ink, it’s getting bigger, and it’s getting angrier. And it knows you.” -Brennan

“As the Gander and Goose have their powers within the realms of the Neverafter, times of shadow, times of plenty, the wolf is death which is endings. Which in a land of stories endings are perhaps the most important thing.” -The Fairy with the Turquoise Hair

“I met death, and death wants me to live! I don’t want to go back to my other story where I listen to my fucking elders!” -Ylfa 

“Gerard has already lived his story, and what happens after happily ever after is that more things happen, or I’m just going to be a two dimensional piece of paper.” -Gerard 

“Do you think that you found true love, or do you think you just found the first person that could turn you back into a prince?”-Rosamund

“Don’t learn lessons from my torment.” -The Gander

“Sometimes when you feel like your whole point is to be a helper, you just have to help at any cost, and that’s pretty unhelpful. Sometimes I didn’t have a good answer, and I should have just said that, and I’ll do better to just tell you when I don’t know.” -Cricket

 “You don’t get beginnings without endings, okay?” -Ylfa

“Some things simply are, and in time, all things will end. But if you fear that you have made a pact with something that cannot live within your heart, then what comfort i can offer is this. In no corner of the long ages of all the worlds that i have walked, have I ever for one moment felt the desire to devour everything.” -Big Bad Wolf

“Sometimes things are too late to be rewritten or undone, but there are more blank pages ahead of us, Little Red.” -Big Bad Wolf

“There is no story you can begin without making the promise of its ending, and only strange and very dangerous things try to make a story that never ends.” -Big Bad Wolf

“It is a deep and unsettling dread when you realize that you can, by taking charge, cause harm. It is an even deeper dread when you realize that in taking charge, you will cause harm. You will not make every perfect choice, and the fear that you will make some choice that does some wrong within the world is exactly what your enemies are hoping will stop you. So, we do as best as we can to do as good as we can, but not to let the Neverafter fall into the fate that the faeries intend for it.” -Snow White

“I think the story that’s happening now, I’ve come to learn, will maybe lead to something better. Because you’re right stories don’t just end.” -Gerard

“I don’t think you get love just by deserving it.” -Rosamund

“Everyone you ever knew who told you they would keep you safe as long as you behaved was already hurting you.” -La Bete

“All the finery in the world, is just a mask…” -La Bete

“Live your life without apology, little girl. It is never wrong to tell the truth about what you are.” -La Bete

“It’s never too late to decide who you want to be.” -Tom Thumb

“How convenient that in the moment of learning the lesson, you no longer need to have learned it.” -Brennan

“Because either all the bad things that happened to you were random, just chaos, hundreds and millions of choices of other people that just have nothing to do with you and your own story, or all the bad things that happened to you were destined to happen.” -Cinderella

[talkativeanxiousturtle]

A quirk of the dynamic John-Sherlock-Mycroft that I particularly appreciate toying with in my rewrite, is that they play out like a game of Rock-Paper-Scissor.

The story of John and Sherlock, fundamentally, is about the relationship between the two men. They ADORE one another. But, at least at first, John doesn't really see Sherlock as... Well, human. An equal. Sherlock doesn't, either, but in the other direction. John has this first impression of Sherlock as a great genius, nearly a God amongst men. He's above feelings, above mistakes. He could fix just about any problem if he so-chose. Now, with that said, one could argue that John should therefore hold Holmes to a higher standard of behaviour, but to John, living with this tall child is a necessary cost of watching the God up close. That all fades away, with time. Sherlock begins seeing him as his equal (more than past S3 imo) instead of his little pet to do his bidding, pretty quickly in fact, but John takes a bit more time to stop worshipping Sherlock. I don't think he ever truly does. Sherlock is just so sharp, John feels his very purpose was to write about it. Socrates and Plato. The Scissors and the Paper.

Now Sherlock, on the other hand, worships only his own mind, or so he would like us to believe. And since the narrative is from John's perspective in most iterations, we tend to fall for it, at least at first. Then, inevitably, Mycroft is introduced. A man so smart Sherlock feels like a fool in comparison. And not just any fool, either. Mycroft is stern, calm, cold, and calculated. He's all that Sherlock could be, if it weren't for those damn emotions of his! But Mycroft is above all that. Mycroft is perfect. Mycroft. Is. God. You've heard of little siblings idolizing their elders, but that's to a whole other level with the Holmes brothers. Sherlock cannot even look at Mycroft without feeling like Lucifer, cast out of Heaven, replaced by this perfect angel beyond his own comprehension. It drives him mad, he just wants to cut him where it hurts, bring him down a notch, but it's pointless. Mycroft is too solid. He takes it all without as much as a glare. The Scissors and the Rock.

That's all well and good, you might say, this little cycle of worship and awe and "how can you be human", but it seems we've reached the end. Mycroft doesn't respect anyone's intelligence as much as his own, and CERTAINLY doesn't worship anyone!... Except... Think about it. All his life, or rather, Sherlock's, Mycroft has had but one goal (especially true in my version); to protect his little brother. From the rest of the world, certes, but mostly from himself. Deep down, Mycroft knows Sherlock is brilliant, perhaps even close to on par with him. But he lacks any sense of self-preservation or impulse control, whatsoever. Do you KNOW how terrifying it is, to care for a genius child with volatile emotions and no fear of God? Mycroft had to put it in him, he just had no choice, you see. Sure, getting his little brother to view him as an all-powerful, all-seeing, all-controlling figure might not have been the best move for their relationship. But Mycroft would sacrifice anything for Sherlock's safety, even his image in the mind of he who matters most. So you can imagine how FRUSTRATING Sherlock's insistence at risking his life for a daily thrill can get! And don't get Mycroft started on his eating habits, or his drug usage, and God damn does he even sleep enough– Until he meets John. Until Sherlock meets John, that is. And suddenly, his little brother is four, five, six months sober. For the first time since he began using. And suddenly, Sherlock isn't taking as many risks when working his little puzzles, doesn't want harm to come to Watson, so he says. And suddenly, Sherlock looks healthier, happier... Safer. After a lifetime of seeking this outcome, Mycroft still hadn't achieved it. And this man, this doctor, this... John managed the impossible in a matter of weeks. How could Mycroft NOT worship him, a little? He doesn't always agree with his approach, of course. He finds John too soft on Sherlock, too pliable. A mind so sharp requires cold, hard discipline! And yet, Sherlock always opts to obey John instead of his brother. And eventually, so does Mycroft. Sure, he still tries to argue from time to time, but in the end, when it comes to taking care of Sherlock, what John says goes. And anyone who knows anything about Mycroft knows just how divine that is. The Paper beats Rock.

For those of you wondering where Lestrade fits in all this, I guess he'd be like, a hammer? The main difference to me between Mystrade and Johnlock, is that Lestrade doesn't start out worshiping Mycroft, quiiiite the opposite. So the hammer breaks rock, can also rip the paper, but I suppose the scissors can... Cut... The handle?? I don't know. Lestrade is weird. He really shifts the dynamic between those three, because he admires Sherlock as much as John does, but he also sees him as just a kid, kind of like Mycroft does. And then Mycroft is impressed Greg got so much respect from the other two, and is a bit jelly if we're honest, but like... He doesn't exactly fear him the way he low-key fears John (especially after S2E4, in my version. God I can't wait to publish this shit!). And John is simultaneously like "whoa, you knew him before, and he actually listens to you (because John doesn't even realize the power he holds)?" and like "damn, you knew him before, and in all that time you didn't recognize how transcendantly amazing he is? Smh 🙄". And those are two very contradicting positions.

I think it shows Greg is one of the characters I changed the most for this. That's because he's way more important to the overarching plot, and he actually ~has an arc~, so.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Patronage For The Worthy - Incubus!Male!Reader x Nilou

A/N: This idea for the reader has been living in my mind rent free for a good chunk of time, and here it is. Hope everyone likes it!

CW: Cervix sex, Male!Reader

NSFW under the cut.

Nilou opens her eyes. Everything is dark around her. A small amount of light falls through her window, illuminating her covered feet a little. She feels a cold gust of air coming from somewhere to her left. She rubs her eyes, yawns, and sits up in bed. 

She looks around. The window is open, letting the cool summer air move the curtains. Nilou, dressed up in her nightgown, gets up and moves to close it. When she stands before the opening, she can’t help but look out at the city. It’s very late, so only a handful of people roam the streets, illuminated by street lanterns. She looks up at the starry sky, and marvels at the full moon. It’s so beautiful, she thinks. 

“Yes indeed. The moon looks incredible today.”

She freezes in sudden horror. Somebody is in her room. Her heart speeds up, and her chest feels heavy with stress. She slowly turns around.

A man is sitting on the edge of her bed. He has short, dark hair. He seems tall, however the way he is sitting, leaning forward while resting his forearms on his thighs make it hard to judge his true height. Small horns are visible through his hair. The pupils of his eyes glow lightly with a red shine. 

Her eyes go wide. She tries to back away, but she is soon stopped by the windowsill. Her breath speeds up.

“W-who are you? What a-are you? W-what do you want from m-me?!” Her voice cracks from fear. The man stands up, revealing his true height. He is much taller than her, and bigger too. His arms are thick and his shoulders are broad. He raises his large hands up slightly.

Nilou would be ready to use her Vision if it wasn’t this late, if his entry wasn’t so sudden, and if only he wasn’t so… huge. Nilou is certain that with a single swing of his powerful arms he could send her flying. She tries to move, but her body refuses. She is frozen as he approaches her.

“S-stay away! Don’t c-come any c-closer!” Her knees tremble, and she slowly lowers herself to the ground.

“Hey, hey. Stay calm. I mean no harm.” The demon’s voice is surprisingly… normal. It’s nothing like she expected. It’s deep, yes, but very human at the same time. But most of all, it’s calm and steady. Its tone is… oddly soothing.

Her heart starts slowing down against all reason. The man’s aura feels… comforting?

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you, alright? Deep breaths, Nilou.” 

With no other choice but to obey, Nilou nods. 

“O-okay… but don’t come any closer. Please.”

The demon crouches down to meet her eye level. In the darkness his eyes give off a faint, red glow. Her visitor shrugs.

“As you wish.”

It takes her a few solid moments to calm down. She takes in the posture of the demon. It’s relaxed and casual, much to her surprise. A soft smile is on his lips all the while. She finds the courage to speak.

“Who are you?”

“Well, as you can see… I’m a demon.” He smiles, revealing two sharp fangs in his mouth. Nilou shivers at how sharp they look.

“And why are you here?”

The demon laughs. “I’m just here to visit you, obviously. See… I have been watching your performances for quite some time now. I must say… they are quite… breathtaking.” His smile widens. Despite how strange this situation is, Nilou can’t help but blush a little at the praise.

“Thank you…”

“...And I believe that great work is to be rewarded properly. So here I am. For this night, you're my mistress. I will do everything you ask of me to the best of my ability.”

What the demon said is still being processed in her mind as he stretches out his left arm towards her. 

“I understand if you don’t trust me. That’s why I will give you my word. And incubi’s words are never empty.”

 Suddenly, his wrist starts glowing. Nilou is taken back by the sizzle and the smell of flesh being burned. The incubus remains still as her constellation is burned into his forearm. The unearthly fire dies down as suddenly as it arose, along with the smell. 

The demon sighs. 

"Now I am not allowed to do anything against your will. As well as this contract, I will provide you with my name. The one thing that allows one to control a demon completely. Call me… Y/N.”

“Y/N…” As she says the word, the demon’s eyes glow blue. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“Yours is as well, Nilou. Or… do you want me to call you anything else tonight?”

Nilou thinks for a moment, before replying. 

“Is it okay if you call me… ‘princess’?”

Y/N chuckles. “Of course, princess. It’s all about you tonight. Whatever you wish. ”

Nilou looks at Y/N again. His face bears a smug smile. She traces down to look at his body. It’s large and muscular, but most of it is covered by the casual gown he is wearing. All of his torso, except for a chest window. Before she can fully take it in, the demon speaks again.

“How about we sit somewhere more comfortable, princess Nilou?”

She gives a small nod. Suddenly, Y/N picks her up with one arm, completely effortlessly. She squeals in surprise. He gently lowers her to the bed, and sits beside her. As he does, the clothing parts, letting her see his entire chest. It’s very muscular, with six firm abs and well toned skin. She looks up and down Y/N, taking in his impressive physique. 

"Hey. My eyes are up here, princess." 

Nilou nearly jumps in surprise. Her eyes move from his face to the bed and to the floor in panic. Her cheeks flush red. 

"S-sorry…" She replies somewhat ashamed of how blatantly she was checking him out. 

The demon laughs. 

"Hey, it's okay. Do you like it?" 

"I… u-um… like it a lot." She is redder still, avoiding his smug gaze. 

He suddenly, but gently, grabs her hand, and pulls it to rest on his stomach. 

"You can touch it if you want to. I don't mind."

Nilou gulps. Despite what the demon said, there's still a little spark of worry lingering inside her mind. What if she makes a misstep, and touches him in a spot he doesn't like? He could do something to her… But she has to admit. It's kind of… exciting. To be able to touch such a beautiful body… 

She gently guides her hand along your stomach, feeling every small bump of your muscle. They are firm and hard, yet your skin is soft and warm. So pleasant to touch. She moves up, resting her hand between the breasts, and finds no heartbeat. 

"You… really are not mortal…" She moves up her other hand to your shoulders, gently parting the clothing even further. "May I…?" 

"Yes, feel free. Do what you want with me." You smile encouragingly. 

She removes your top completely, exposing your forearms. She moves closer to you, hands now guiding alongside your forearms. Nilou traces her fingers along the perfect curve of your biceps, taking in how hard, yet soft your flesh is. Her touch is gentle, almost feather light. 

Nilou looks at your face, and an idea suddenly pops into her mind. She lifts her left hand to rest on your cheek. With a slow and careful movement, she moves her thumb to your lips, gently parting them. Her mouth opens slightly as she caresses the teeth. She drags her digit down towards your tongue, and pushes it in slightly. You obediently suck on it, making her blush. 

Nilou clumsily mounts you, and you lean back. She sits on your stomach, and you can feel the heat radiating from her core. She sighs as you speed up your tongue work. Her other hand draws circles around your breast, gently rubbing against the nipple. You let out a soft moan as you surrender to her touch. 

The heat inside her is growing by the second. Y/N… Such a powerful being, big, strong… with nothing but a light press of his sharp teeth he could bite off her fingers, and yet here he is, worshiping her fingers. Such a beautiful creature, surrendering to her every whim… 

Nilou doesn't notice when her hips start moving up and down your abs. You, however, can feel all the wetness seeping through her pajama bottoms. Your hands move to hold her ass, gently helping her move. She gasps when she feels you move, and a small frown appears on her lips. Pleasure? Extortion? Dissatisfaction? You can't tell. 

She grabs your bigger hands and moves them to rest on the covers, pinning them down by the sides of your head. You let her lips find yours as she leans down. Your tongues intertwine, but you let her take the lead. In no time she is exploring your mouth, hips still bucking back and forth against your stomach. 

When she parts with you, hot, blushing and out of breath, you look down at her hips. Her nightgown bottoms are completely soaked in the crotch area. You purr, looking deep into her eyes. 

"Ah, you love that, princess Nilou, don't you?" 

She lets out a small moan, mouth now agape in hard earned pleasure. "Yes…" 

"Let me lend you a hand then."

Your eyes glow, and suddenly her clothes are gone, turned into black particles. This doesn't surprise or startle her. Instead, she just dives into your lips again, exposed pussy rubbing against your soft skin with twice the intensity now. She is too overcome with lust and desire to care, or feel even an ounce of shame. 

With an especially wide hip move, her core rubs against your bulge. In an instant, a new wave of desire overcomes her. Her nose takes in your beautiful, overwhelmingly hot smell, and she can feel that familiar itch between her legs. But this time, her fingers won't do the trick. 

"I want you, now… please… serve me w-with your body, Y/N…" 

Your eyes glow again, and your pants are completely gone in an instant, allowing your cock to spring free of its confines. Without delay, she grabs it in her hand. She rubs her palm against your head, gathering the slick and precum. Nilou timidly takes a whiff of your musk, and her eyes water at how strong it is. Wasting no time, she places your head against her entrance, and slowly, very slowly, starts pushing it in. 

She whines as your tip stretches her body. You move your hands to support her lower thighs, securing her movement. Her eyes flutter shut as she feels her insides being pushed apart, making space for your overwhelming length. She feels so full, so delightfully filled, and yet it's just the halfway point. She moves her hips up and down a little, sending waves of pleasure through the both of you. She moans lightly, hands gripping your shoulders for support. You can feel her fingers digging deeper and deeper into your skin with every millimeter of depth. 

Nilou runs out of breath for a second, before a sweet, loud yelp reaches your ears. You can feel a firm wall of flesh touching your cock. Her eyes roll back, and she falls on your chest, breathing heavily. Her cervix prevents you from going deeper, so you start moving your hips back. Gently, but firmly, you snap them back forward, striking her wall and earning a gasp from her. She digs her nails into you, drawing blood as you fuck her gently. 

Nilou soon convulses, her walls pulsing, throbbing and clenching around your shaft. With her first orgasm, any sense of boundary or restraint is gone. Despite her orgasm induced exhaustion, she starts moving again. You both moan in unison as Nilou lets go of her desires and rides you for another orgasm. 

And then another, and another until her body gave out on her. You left her there, bruised, covered in hickeys and absolutely spent. 

The sleep she had was the best of her life that night. 

—

Nilou awoke the next morning. Every part of her hurt, from her toes to the top of her head. Lightly stretching, she looked around her room. Even though she remembered it to be more or less trashed, it was cleaned. A new set of pajamas, identical to those she lost during the night, was resting on top of her night stand. 

On shaky, sore legs she moved to the bathroom. Moving to the kitchen after washing herself down with lukewarm water, a silver, covered tray caught her attention. A small piece of paper lay next to it. She glanced over the text, written in beautiful, decorative font. 

"Loved the night. Made you breakfast. See you on the next show, princess~ - Y/N."

Nilou lifted the cover, coming face to face with a steaming hot pile of pancakes. She nearly squealed with joy at the sight. The girl rushed to grab some cutlery, but a flash of pain stopped her in her tracks. Rubbing her sore hips, she chuckled to himself. 

Maybe she really did go too far yesterday. 

Thanks for reading!

[midnightsun-if]

”Its V day and y'all know what that means! Angst! If its okay could you please do the MC is cursed into deep slumber so mated or deep romance ROs tries waking MC up with a true love's kiss but it failed but someone else tried on MC and it worked and how would they feel about not being the true love”?” this but when the mc wakes up they are incredibly angry at the not RO because their body wants them and tries to make us want them but we want the RO. Like “I DONT WANT YOU I WANT THEM I LOVE THEM!!!” And mc hating themselves because of it. How would the ROs react to that?

Koda: He’d be by your side, doing everything in his power to try and get you to understand what’s happening, that nothing could be changed— something that’s made all the more difficult because he barely understands it himself. He just hates seeing you like this, in so much pain because you’re denying yourself of what you truly want. What would clearly be the best for you. “T-This isn’t easy, sunshine, but this is how it’s gotta be, I think.” Koda rubs the back of his neck, looking down at his lap. “It’s not fair, and it’ll hurt for a long time, but it’s how it’s supposed to be. Mama always told me that you don’t go messin’ with the natural order of things.” Whiskey brown eyes look up to meet your own gaze, imploring you to understand. To listen. “I want nothing more than to be yours, and for you to be mine, but that’s not how it’s supposed to be.“

Scarlett: That’d probably make it worse, honestly. It’d absolutely destroy her to see physical proof that your beast wants someone that isn’t her— when all her beast wants, all her beast will ever need, is you. It’d twist the knife so deeply into her heart that it’d become a mere husk of what it once was; the final scar that would never heal. Her anger would only exemplify because it’d also make her realize how hopelessly in love with you she still is. She wouldn’t wish to see you suffer, the love she still has for you making the sight absolutely painful, so she’d make it clear that what was could never be again. “I know you’re fighting, I know that you don’t want this, but you’re only doing yourself more harm. You’re only causing me more harm by spouting such beautiful words that are nothing more than the most ugly of lies.” Pursing her lips, Scarlett takes your hand in hers for, what she knows is, the last time. “We were not meant to be. I was a mere chapter in the book of your life, and I will come to accept that, but you need to accept that this is how it’s meant to be. I’m letting you go, letting you be free.”

Cyrus/Cyra: They’d treat the situation methodically, coldly to some, because they couldn’t bear to let themself open up once more. They don’t even know why they’re torturing themself by continuing to be in your presence, not when your very essence is calling out for someone else. They hope, that with the distance, with the added ice between you both, when there used to be nothing but gentle flames, that you’d begin to understand that nothing could be the same. “You need to stop fighting this. It’s wholly irrational to try and fight the mating bond when it’s been established the way it has.” Their words are hollow, empty of any discerning emotion as they look over what the healers have written down. “You’re only causing yourself more issues in the long run.” They look up then, some gold returning to their crimson gaze. “Only causing me more pain by not letting me go in the same way I’ve had to do so to you.”

Quinn: Their wolf would howl in triumph that their mate is clearly trying to pick the better option, but Quinn would quickly give them a reality check as it’d be clear how much discourse your body would be going through due to the choice. Something that should never be the case when it comes to true mates— it’d be all the proof they needed to truly bring the process of stepping back. Even if their wolf, much tamer now, more subdued, still snarled in the recesses of their mind at the prospect. “Sweetheart,” they murmur, gently taking your hand in theirs. Trying to ignore how right it made them feel— your touch, your scent, the sound of your voice, was home to them. They just had to deal with the fact that they’ve been evicted. “It’s honorable what you’re trying to do. That you’re trying to fight for what we had so hard, but I can’t let you continue on like this. I promised that I’d always protect you, and that means I have to protect you from yourself too. It’s time to stop. For both our sakes.”

Caden: For a brief moment they’d let themself believe that everything was going to be okay— that you’d be able to go back to them, but it’d be only that. A dream. A fantasy borne from a desperate mind. They wouldn’t be able to handle it, wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes as they break the news that this couldn’t go on. They’d be completely retreated into themself because they know if they looked at you, truly looked at you, they’d let themself believe that this could have a happier ending. “I-I sent in my resignation.” They pluck at the end of a knitted scarf, one that you said looked nice on them so long ago. “I think it would be best if I get some space for a while. For the both of us. You need to settle into the new normalcy of your life and I—“ They bite their lip, argent eyes going misty. “I have to deal with the fact that mines been destroyed.”

Sloane: A spark of their former anger would arise due to the situation— about how unfair the situation clearly was to them and to you. But they wouldn’t wish for you to suffer. Wouldn’t wish for you to be anything but happy— even if that happiness could never be with them. It’d take them a bit to truly come to terms with it, meaning to actually come and see you to talk to you, but they’d be firm in their resolve once they do. Even if their heart was cracking open which each moment spent in your presence. “Don’t need to make it a big deal,” they say, flicking their lighter open and close. Wanting nothing more than to smoke, but refraining due to their current location. “You may love me, but that doesn’t mean shit in the long run, does it? Not when you have the person you’re supposed to be bonded to always trying to see you. I’ve spent my whole life feeling like a runner up, like an imposter, and I think I deserve to not feel that when being in a relationship.” Hazel eyes raise to meet yours. “I deserve that, right?”

Blake: They’d be stiff the entire time, wouldn’t be able to hold eye contact with you for long, the sense of familiarity between you both would be so strained… Everything and more had shifted and Blake wouldn’t know what to do with that. It’s one thing to lose the love of your life, but to lose your best friend on top of that? It makes everything too real, too painful, and Blake just wants to get away from it all. Meaning, for the first time, they wanted to get away from you. Of what you represented in their loss. “T-“ They clear their throat, ducking their head as they anxiously tug at their pendant. “Let’s not make this any more difficult than it already is. It’s a shitty situation no matter how prettily we try to wrap it. We’re both going to need some time.” A frazzled hand runs through ash blonde locks. “Don’t know how long that’ll take, but it needs to happen. For both our sakes.”

Reginald/Regina: For a moment, wherein they let every selfish thought run free, they let themself believe that this means everything will be okay, that you’ll fight the clear pull you feel towards someone else, and that you’ll be theirs again like they’re yours, but then they’d see the turmoil you’re in and that would all vanish. How could they say they love you when they let you be in this pain? How could you ever be happy together when you could be happier with someone else? It’s clear what needed to happen… They just wish they could have worn their rose-colored lenses a bit longer. “I don’t want you to think I hate you because I don’t.” A watery smile is sent your way, blue-green eyes shimmering with suppressed tears. “You’ve meant more to me than I ever thought possible. You opened up a whole new world of possibilities to me and I can never thank you enough for that. Even if our story ends here today, I know that’ll I’ll always look back on this chapter fondly. Even if it may take me a while to do so. I hope you’ll be able to do the same.”

[electronicclowncollector]

Levia Essay

(This essay is made because of @dragongodryss 's request and some knowledge was provided by @lilacharbour )

(this is levia ^)

It’s commonly believed by the older generations of Fairy Tail experts that Levia Is a mere brute, who receives absolutely no character development, some even believe that he’s one of the less intelligent characters of Fairy Tail. This is wrong. Levia is an incredibly deep character with a backstory filled with sadness that can be rivalled by no other, a true misunderstood victim if I do say so myself.

Before I can explain my beliefs, I believe some context is required for who exactly Levia is, even some of my own mentors in Fairy Tail knowledge had to use meaningless sources like google or the fairy tail wiki, but of course I knew right off the bat who Levia was, as I have pondered for many hours about the sheer depth of his character. Starting with his name, Levia, likely named after the Leviathan of the Hebrew Bible. The Leviathan is often treated as the embodiment of the sin of envy, which will be important to the analysis later. In Fairy Tail, Levia is the loyal pet of Rogue from the evil timeline (who will be named Revil from now on (a mix between the word rogue and evil)), whos mission was to keep Rogue in place long enough for Revil to steal present Sting and bring him Back to the Future (By Robert Zemekis).

Now that the context has been explained, I shall now explain why most Fairy Tail fans are wrong about him. During his backstory, it was explained that Revil took Levia in when he was at his lowest point, addicted to dragonberries, without a cave over his head, and desperately needing a pile of treasure for a bed (as dragons do in fairy tail). That was when Revil invited him to join the Sabertooth guild, but the sabretooth guild didn’t like that. They didn’t allow dragons into the guild for various reasons, but the true reason is because Sting didn’t want to share rogues heart with yet another creature, this is proven in the following dialogue quoted directly from the manga, starting with revil: “Tell me, why can’t we let Levia join the sabretooth guild? Have you not seen his teeth?” Sting responded saying, “Rogue we have 5 rules in the sabretooth guild”. Sting proceeded to point at the plaque which had all the rules listed (those are unimportant for the time being). But the 5th one had been altered, from “No pet dragonets” to “No dragon in guild”, though it was clear that letters had been crudely crossed out with a very sharp knife (though the person evidently didn’t have a steady hand as it was messy), and the extra letters added to the end were clearly in a different quality to the rest of the text on the plaque. A big part of stings character is also his very poor written grammar. This clearly shows that Sting had an ulterior motive, but this is a Levia essay not a stingue essay, so I will not elaborate further. Anyway, this even led to what many fans considered impossible, the breakup of Sting and Rogue (this was before the dark destinies saga was retconned into being an “evil timeline”.

Anyway, this is what jumpstarted Rogues evil journey, he slowly became evil and manipulative, but Levia remained loyal. Rogue helped him get stronger, and Levia protected rogue any time Sting tried to bring harm to them, showing a clear sense of comradery between Revil and Levia. That’s what I would say if I was WRONG. Levia was clearly being manipulated by Revil into remaining loyal. The spinoff about the dark Destinies saga also shows one of these moments, starting with revil: “Levia, my loyal minion, I have a plan. If I can go back in time to when Sting and I were still best boyfriends forever, I can persuade past sting to come with me to the future.” Levia responded saying “But master? How will we do this without harming any of the past citizens?”. The following line sent a tear down my cheek, “a capture mission doesn't mean you can't break a few bones”. This broke Levias heart. He was always a pacifist, this was his core value, to avoid conflict at all cost. But it was his masters orders, so he was forced to follow along with it.

Of course, the first part of this mission was a success, Revil and Levia went back in time. The first part of the plan shows Revils lack of care for Levia, he had Levia keep Rogue in one place, by any means necessary. And, showing a clear loyalty, he followed his masters orders. While Levia followed the orders, he felt morally conflicted, so he decided to change his heart, and brought rogue back to sting, showing a clear sense of justice. Revil loved past sting too much, so if present Rogue lost sting, it would sting. So the final battle began. Levia was forced to watch as revil fought rogue and sting, until he finally decided to stand up for himself. He was about to step forward to stop Revil, when he was cruelly stopped by present Sting. A clear misunderstanding in intentions. This was the tragic end for Levia, he didn’t mean any harm with his actions, he was merely a product of his manipulation. It was such a shame to see such a deep character be killed off so early into his character arc.

The writer of the Fairy tail manga was incredibly brave with his namesake of Levia, treating it as though he was the embodiment of jealousy, when the true embodiment of jealousy was his master, Revil. I hope this has convinced you of the truth about Levia

[gt-jar]

G/t snippet #1

Word count: >1k

CW: near-death experience? (nothing graphic)

Henry clings to the tree for dear life. He can hear the thundering footsteps in the distance. They are getting louder, which means...

The giant is getting closer.

He bites his lip, keeping himself from sobbing loudly. He needs to stay quiet, needs to stay hidden. He can't run anymore, everything hurts. Hiding is his only chance.

If the giant finds him then...

The boy doesn't want to think about what will happen then. He just hopes that the giant will walk in a different direction, far far away from the tree he's hidding in. His hopes are crushed, when a deep voice calls out.

"Kid, please come out! I swear, I just want to help you!"

Henry flinches, digging his nails deeper into the bark of the tree. The voice is so loud. The giant must be close. Why can't he just leave him alone? Maybe he's lucky, there still is a chance that the giant will just walk by. He looks down to check and pales.

The giant is standing right under him, looking around.

Looking for him.

A whimper escapes him against his will and this is what seals his fate.The giant looks up and their eyes meet. The surprised look on his face turns into something softer.

"Hey, there you are," the giant says softly.

For the first time since spotting the human, he gets a good look at the boy, and god, he looks so frail and tiny. Way too young to be all alone. The fearful look on his face breaks the giant's heart. Knowing he's the cause for the boy's fear just makes him feel worse.

"G-go away!" the child cries, "Leave me alone!"

The giant winces. The child's reaction doesn't surprise him, but it pains him no less.

"I know you're scared, but I can't just leave you here. It's not safe. There's a storm coming up. Please let me help you."

"I don't want your help!"

The little boy sounds like he's close to tears.

All the giant wants is to scoope him up and ease his fears, but he can't reach him while he's up in the tree, and maybe that's for the best. He doubts the child would want to be comforted by him. He has to convince the boy to climb down on his own.

The giant tries a different approach.

"Do you really want to stay here? It gets really cold at night. Don't you want a warm place to sleep and a warm meal?"

This makes Henry falter. As if on cue his stomach starts to growl.

The giant smiles sadly at him.

"You must be so hungry. But you don't have to be, you can have as much food as you want, all you have to do is climb down."

The boy is conflicted. It has been three days since he ate something. Everything is so unfair. The offer sounds too good to be true. He really wants to take it, but...

"How do I know that you don't want to trick me?"

The giant makes a sad sound.

"Sweetheart, I don't know what types of horror storys you were told about me, but I can guarantee they are not true, I don't mean any harm," the giant pauses, "I know you don't believe me, but maybe there's something I can do to prove it?"

"I don't know," Henry sniffles quietly. He is too exhausted to think of something.

"That's okay. I'll just wait here until you come up with something."

The giant sits down and leans against the tree. He doesn't do anything, he just.... waits, like he said.

Henry doesn't know how much time goes by. It has started to rain a while ago. The tree shields him from the rain for the most part, the same can't be said about the giant. He's still sitting under the tree, waiting, getting all wet.

"Why are you doing this?" Henry croaks, not sure if the giant even hears him.

"I just want to make sure you're safe. You can trust me when I'm saying that you don't have to be afraid of me. How about this, you come down and I'll take you to my place. I can make you something to eat, while we wait out the storm. How does this sound?"

'Good' Henry thinks silently. He is tired, cold and so so hungry. Maybe he does need the giant's help. Without thinking about the possible consequences, the boy starts to climb down.

Suddenly a loud clap of thunder echos through the forest, startling him and causing him to slip.

He is falling.

The giant yells something, but he can't understand it over the sound of his own screams.

This is it.

This is how he'll die.

Suddenly, Henry stops falling. He collides with something solid. But it doesn't feel like the ground. He looks around and realizes that he is sitting in a pair of hands. The boy looks up and once again meets the giant's concerned eyes.

They look so warm.

"ARE YOU HURT?"

All at once Henry starts to cry, but not because he's hurt. Right now he's just overwhelmed. The stress of the last few days comes crashing down. 

He's pulled against a warm chest and is rocked back and forth. The giant is hugging him, whispering words of comfort.

"Shh, it's okay, little one. I've got you now. You're safe. Trust me, everything is going to be okay."

And this time Henry believes him.

[misfithive]

Thank you for the way you handled that ask about Wille's and Simon's drama. Because that sentence 'On the other hand, Simon needs to have a bit of more drama thrown at him' made me so furious. It was so insensitive! The fact that he suffers in silence and alone in his room not to bother other people doesn't mean he doesn't suffer enough and needs some more! The fact that he didn't jump on the table or say he feels like dying doesn't make his experience any less traumatic than Wille's. What he needs is to process his trauma rather than brushing it aside, not to get some more.

Once again thank you, you put it all beautifully.

Yes 😭 this is a very common hope for Simon to get pushed to the point of a breakdown but it’s like .. at what cost?😩 He has been thru enough trauma for a lifetime and a half. And the thing is, most people cannot actually stop and process the trauma if they are constantly being hit with more. I think we are more likely to get simon opening up if he is able to find safety which he did not really have. he is expected to be the strong one by everyone in his life. His friends try their best but still, telling him to rebound is the same message him mother gives him of “you are strong”. Bc they dont want him to sit with his feelings and cry (it’s uncomfortable and not the norm for them), they want him to forget about the Prince and move on. Up until s3 he has not had someone to cry to- thats why he writes his songs and holds wille’s sweater. Even when he is talking to Rosh and Ayub in the kitchen if he was actually crying to them i feel they would show it- it appears he probably cried on the way home before they came (this is my hc if yall think he cried to them u can believe that if u want)

i think Simon’s character is very accurate to what a lot of men, people socialized as men, and also people of color experience and how we deal with our emotions. I get that for a lot of people it is cathartic to sob but for many of us, crying like that especially in front of someone else is terrifying. we are conditioned that letting other people see u in that vulnerable state is a weakness (puts you in danger or will be used against you & that anger is safer). I know some men who have not cried since they were children and told me they dont even remember what it feels like to cry or how to actually let the tears fall from their eyes. It is messed up. Is that fair? No. Is it true that it is a weakness? No. But not everyone learns that. The patriarchy sucks and harms us all lol i wish people would understand that and have empathy for the deep sadness that simon is carrying and hiding whether he lets it out or not.

Not to mention everyone deals with their trauma differently and i think it is cool that the show is realistic and shows people dealing with things in different ways. Simons character is relatable bc of this and instead of people saying “it’s not fair that Wille gets to express himself in this way and Simon doesn’t” i want people to think about WHY Simon is not be able to. I know wanting simon to cry comes from a good place but it does upset me a little bit bc even if he doesnt have a breakdown s3, that doesnt mean that the writers hate him and arent doing his story justice which is what people say abt s2. At the same time, if he does have a break down, that would be totally warranted. i'm just saying that if it doesn't happen that's valid too.

THAT BEING SAID. I think s3 is a great opportunity for Simon to hear from Wille that he doesnt always have to be strong and that Wille can be a reliable safe space. I think Wille’s tenderness is something that Simon sees and now that they are on good terms and Wille has worked to rebuild the trust, I hope Simon will turn to Wille for emotional support however that looks.

Ermmmn I’m very sorry that this turned into a dump but i had to get it off my chest.(made a few edits for clarity and spelling mistakes bc i posted this in the middle of the night)

[pomplalamoose]

to love from afar

🌛bonus chapter🌜

Master Luke Skywalker x reader

summary: An experimental continuation of chapter 1; explores the possibilities of your Master returning your feelings.

word count: 5,908

(basically a fan fiction for my own fan fiction, however if you'd like this to be the true outcome after the first part, you're welcome to of course <3)

read the first chapter here or on AO3🩵💙

You're sitting cross legged on your bed roll; facing you is a simple pair of black pants, neatly folded and looking very inconspicuous.

Yet you are staring at them like they caused you personal harm, like their burden is physically weighing down upon your shoulders.

Being very well aware you're being dramatic doesn't change the fact you have been procrastinating returning the pants, your Master was generous enough to lend to you, for nearly a week now.

The injuries caused by your embarrassing fall down a hill have healed nicely, only a few faint lines still visible where sharp edges cut deep.

And while you are very thankful for your Master's care and attention following directly after, your dreams now only ever circling around how he held you in his arms and briefly touched your cheek, you haven't dared to initiate any kind of contact since then.

When before you were shy and a little standoffish you are outright avoiding him now whenever you possibly can.

And although your heart aches with want and still you crave his praise, his good will, even a smile, you feel as though you would simply go up in flames should he ever bestow his attention upon you again.

The shame, after coming to the conclusion that he knew about your most intimate feelings, your thoughts and dreams all along, too strong to release into the Force.

And you tried. You really really did try.

It is delaying your training after all, keeping you up at night, sneaking up on you during meditation or dinner, haunting your every waking moment.

It's eating you alive and the constant fear that he too will sense this, should your mental shields crack, has exhausted you.

Breathing in deeply and then slowly out again, you make an effort to view your situation differently.

Master Skywalker is kind and understanding.

What are you so afraid of?

He does not deserve your fear.

All this time, it seems, he was aware of your crush that developed into more the longer you stayed with him and the others, and yet did he ridicule you?

Did he punish you?

Did he send you away? Did he tell you to let go of those feelings, make them out to be unbecoming of a Jedi?

No. Of course not. And, you tell yourself, he never would because that's why, among many other things, you would surrender your very being to him.

Even after your last conversation just outside his rooms, when he offered to work on your mental shields with you, he did not do so as a reprimand, but because he genuinely wanted to help.

And even though you sense his disappointment towards your current antics and failings during his lessons, he remains nothing but patient, allowing you to keep your distance, never overstepping your boundaries, not forcing himself on you.

He does not deserve your fear.

Not when he explicitly told you more than once how he cared and wished only the best for his students.

He must have known about your feelings for a long time.

So why would his stance towards them change now of all things?

With sweaty hands you pick up his pants, your heart beating fast as you press them to your chest and make your way outside to search for him.

When you carefully reach out with the Force to locate your Master's current whereabouts, you find your shields already lowered.

You sigh in defeat. Eventually you will have to ask him about his offer to work with you on that.

The afternoon sun is warming your back and slightly soothing your nerves as you make your way into the near woods where you suspect his presence.

Indeed, you soon are able to find him sitting in a small clearing, seeming to be deep in meditation.

At first you are relieved to have an excuse to leave again but then your stomach sinks; you don't know when you'll be able to gather your courage to try again, if at all.

The longer you avoid this, the worse it will get.

But interrupting now?

Maybe you could just place the pants next to him and then make for a run?

He would know, of course, who put them there.

Possibly he'd seek you out after.

No, you decide, it's better to get this over with and just wait until he has completed his exercises.

Nervously chewing on your bottom lip, lost in thought, you don't realize your Master's eyes lazily tracking your every nervous twitch and movement.

Neither do you see his lips curl upwards into a sly smile, or the momentary gleam in his gaze, uncannily resembling that of a predator ready to strike.

His voice, though, is warm and velvety soft, when he speaks, as if to not scare you away.

"Oh hello, what a lovely surprise. I hope I have not left you waiting for too long?"

Unable to do anything but stare, immediately having fallen under his spell again, you shyly shake your head.

Slowly extending his arm in your direction, he beckons you closer and of course you obey. You would never think of doing otherwise.

"I'm very pleased to see my little way ward sheep return to me. Sit with me, Padawan."

Doing as he asked, you awkwardly lower yourself to the ground some distance away, face burning as the nickname echoes in your head.

Your Master, however, does not seem satisfied.

"No, that will not do, Padawan. Do you wish to throw my pants across the clearing? I thought your manners better than that."

Patting the ground directly in front of his crossed legs, like someone would to lure a puppy, he looks at you expectantly.

In disbelief you can't do much but blink at him, sheepishly shuffling across the grass when he doesn't relent, eventually coming to a stop only a few meters away from him.

He shakes his head, again tapping the ground in front of him with growing insistence.

"M-Master...that's hardly-"

You stop mid sentence, suddenly not so sure if it'd be wise to openly question his wishes after basically ignoring him for a week.

Lowering your head you kneel where he wants you to, fussing about invisible flecks of dust in your lap, studiously doing the most to distract yourself from his broad chest right in front of your face.

With a deep exhale he unfurls his long legs, resting them on either side of you, strategically caging you in.

"Very good. Although it would have been easier to comply right away, don't you think, Padawan?"

Without waiting for an answer, he continues.

"Let's take a moment to practice, yes? I believe you will benefit from this greatly."

Then, abruptly pulling you out of your confusion, his voice suddenly turns commanding.

"Look at me."

Startled your head snaps up immediately and you're rewarded with a smile.

His commanding tone however, does not change.

"Hand me my pants. Good. Now say: thank you dear Master, for lending them to me."

"Th-Thank you, dear Master, for lending them to me."

"You are most welcome, Padawan. Repeat after me: Master, what could I possibly do to repay you?"

Is he teasing you? Blinking up at him you obey nevertheless.

"Master, what could I possibly do to repay you?"

For a long moment he has you pinned with his gaze, then leaning forward, his hair tickling your cheek, he whispers in you ear.

"Mmh aren't you lovely, Padawan. There are indeed a few things you could do for me. And you will, won't you? You are always so well behaved, always eager to please, isn't that right?"

Barely daring to breath you've grown very very still, your mouth hanging open slightly.

You must have fallen asleep earlier without realizing. This has to be one of your silly dreams.

Will he ask you for a kiss now? It would be so easy to oblige too, just a quick turn of your head and you'd be able to touch your lips to the corner of his mouth and then-

"Padawan. I asked you a question."

Oh. Maybe not a dream then?

"Uhhh yes, Master?"

Leaning back, he slightly tilts his head.

"You weren't listening."

It isn't a question.

Your thoughts temporarily strayed very far away and he knows, surely having a very good idea where to as well.

You briefly check your shields. They are down.

Damnit.

Avoiding his gaze you concentrate instead on the smooth skin just above his collar.

"I apologize, Master. It won't happen again."

You notice the way his Adam's apple moves when he huffs a laugh.

"It isn't wise to make promises one can't keep, my Padawan. But I will let you get away with it this time. Now, back to my original question-"

"I remember, Master!", you interrupt excitedly when the fog in your brain momentarily lifts.

"You wanted me to do something for you, did you not? Am I not right?"

"I guess I can let that count, yes.", he answers calmly, clearly amused at your sudden eagerness.

Determined now, to further please him, unbeknownst doing exactly as he foretold, you don't shy away this time, waiting for his directions.

This isn't going as bad as you feared!

Yes you embarrassed yourself many times over a span of what? Ten minutes? But you don't seem to be in trouble and that's all that matters to you.

You're rather stupefied when he gets up, suddenly towering over you.

Still kneeling on the soft grass you have to crane your neck to keep looking at him, not understanding right away he expects you to get up as well.

So when you simply remain at his feet he raises his eyebrows, his expression awfully close to the gentle exasperation you dislike so much.

"What is it, Master?", you ask, rather insecure now.

A sigh.

"When was the last time you had a full nights rest, Padawan?"

Furrowing your brow you try to think.

You find you don't know and neither are you able to comprehend why he's asking.

"M-Master? I don't think I understand, I-"

You break off when he leans down, taking hold of you under your shoulders and hoisting you up.

"I shouldn't be so surprised.", he says under his breath before fully addressing you once more.

"Come along, Padawan."

Humming softly to yourself you follow after him, still unsure of his motivations.

But now that he has mentioned it you realize you are very tired indeed.

Mmh, why did he ask about your sleep again?

You can't say you are able to tell, not when your limps are so heavy all of a sudden, your brain for once nicely quite and fuzzy.

Slowing down your steps to yawn, you decide to take a quick break; right over there that mossy spot looks very comfortable.

Your Master, however, seems to have different plans, swiftly taking your hand in his and pulling you along before you can sit down.

"Please, 'm so tired, Master!", you whine but are quickly soothed when he gently squeezes your hand and tugs you closer.

"Yes, my Padawan, I know. Just a few more steps, okay? See, we already made it out of the woods. And right over there", he points, "is where we want to go."

Reassured you happily follow after him, already too spaced out to worry about clearly being led towards his rooms, when you suddenly recognize your friends voice calling from afar.

"Master Skywalker!"

Sounding quite distressed, they quickly draw nearer.

"Master Skywalker, have you seen-"

Immensely relieved they are abruptly coming to a halt when they see your smaller figure close to his.

"Oh thank the Force you found them! They simply disappeared and we were so worried something had happened!"

In the distance you are able to make out your other classmates.

Are they talking about you? Why are they so worried? How could anything have happened to you while you were with your Master?

You swiftly dismiss your questions when you hear his calm voice responding, your friend evidently relaxing as well.

"Everything is alright now. I will look after them and make sure they get the rest they need. You may let the others know as well."

Absentmindedly nodding along you are simply content to hold your Master's hand.

This is wonderful. You wouldn't mind this moment lasting forever.

"Of course, Master. Is there something, anything, we can do to help?", your friend asks, eyeing you suspiciously as you cling to him, possessively hugging his arm to your chest.

You giggle.

In hindsight you'll wisely acknowledge that sleep deprivation is not a good look on you and so are eternally thankful for your Master's patience, who simply smiles and shakes his head to send your friend on their way again.

"Come on now.", he then says to you.

When you eventually arrive in his living space, he makes you sit on his comfortable cushions again.

"I will be right back, don't leave!", he tells you sternly and you hear him tinkering around in his kitchen.

That's also about the last thing you perceive, because then, quite surprising yourself, you are pulled into a deep and dreamless sleep.

***

When you slowly return to the world of the living, you have no idea where you are.

Neither do you know for how long you were out, nor what day or time it is.

It´s very quiet but somewhere, in the distance, running water is audible.

Spotting a window, you climb out of the unfamiliar bed, you were resting in, to look outside.

It seems to be late in the afternoon, close to dusk and you spot a few fellow students working in a pretty little garden.

One sees you as well, waving cheerily and you relax again, returning the greeting.

Good news: you are not on a foreign planet like you momentarily feared.

That'd be rather stupid too. Force, what is wrong with you.

Surely someone has to be around, making dinner or tidying up after their training, who you can ask how late it is.

However peeking out of the bedroom and then around the orderly near rooms, you happen upon nobody. Strange.

Normally most of the Padawans spent their early evening inside their quarters and yet there is nobody to be seen, not a sound to be heard.

Even the water, you suddenly realize, has fallen silent.

You can't even tell who lives here, a very obvious lack of personal belongings, like a cloak or a light saber, confusing you.

Deciding to quickly check out the missing rooms before heading out, you make your way down a short corridor and throw open a door to the left.

Only to be faced with your very wet, very naked Master.

The shriek leaving your mouth, rivals that of a krayt dragon going in for an attack, only rising in volume when your Master steps towards you, not even remotely bothering to cover up.

Without thinking you slam the door shut in his face, continuing to screech.

The picture of his nude body burning itself in yor brain not even close to calming you down.

"OH MY GODDDD!!! WHAT THE HELL!!!"

In your shock you inadvertently fall back on your home planet's way of speaking, releasing a wild string of curses that your mother definitely would not approve of.

You can't believe that just happened.

This is horrible.

This is way worse than anything that ever happened to you in your life before.

Faintly you can hear laughter before the wooden door opens, revealing you Master. Still gloriously naked.

Screaming yet again, you quickly shield your eyes like you would to block out the sun, the sight of him too much to endure.

"Cover up. PLEASE!!! Jesus Christ."

"Oh gladly.", comes the amused voice of your Master.

"You will have to step aside though, I don't keep my clothes in a bathroom. Do you?"

You feel him placing two warm hands on your shoulders to gently steer you out of the way.

"No! Of course not!", you reply, your voice a tad too loud.

"I'm very glad to see you out and about again. And you seem to be doing much better too.", he says conversationally as you hear his footsteps proceed away from you.

How is he so calm?????

Peaking through your fingers and then fully lowering your hands when you realize he stepped out of sight, you release a breath.

"Master, I'm genuinely sorry for raising my voice at you just now. And also horribly so for catching you off guard.", you blurt out, feeling like you might burst from sheer embarassment alone.

His answer is another laugh.

"Oh really? I´d say you were the one caught off guard, not me. I was very well aware you were coming my way."

You are scandalized, your heart still racing.

"But why didn't you say anything?! You could've locked the door or told me off, Master!"

"And withhold you from learning an important lesson? I don't think I ask too much, my Padawan, by expecting you to sense other people in a building."

"B-but Master! I- That´s not fair! I was still half asleep, I-"

Entering the corridor he fixes you with a stern look you would normally quiver under but right now...

Without meaning to your eyes lower to where a pair of still open pants are hanging from his hips, revealing...quite a lot.

Horrified you immediately tear your gaze away, your cheeks heated and burning.

"M-master, please, this is hardly appropriate."

Only when you hear the rustling of fabric and then a zipper do you dare to look at him again.

To your dismay he chooses not to put on anything else, instead moving around you and leaving you standing there like rooted to the spot.

"No, I will not put on a shirt.", he says over his shoulder, answering your unspoken question.

"This is my home and I quite enjoy relaxing after a day full of work too."

Turning to to look at you, he motions you to follow.

Then

"You seem to have a different opinion after sleeping in my bed for over a day? Care to elaborate?"

That stings but you're too stupefied to answer.

You slept in HIS bed, in his actual bedroom and didn't even realize?

He laid you down IN HIS BED?

Yes exactly, you remind yourself, and as if that alone wasn't enough you thanked him by walking in on him just stepping out of the shower, disrespecting his privacy and getting an eyeful of his big-

"Shields up.", comes the stern command.

"I am far from insecure but some things I'd rather my Padawan not think about too intensively. Even though I´m quite flattered, of course."

You hear the smirk in his voice but the shame you managed to keep at bay since finally getting some rest, comes back with full force; your eyes are burning and you turn away so he does not see your face.

As always you can't hide your feelings from him though and immediately hear steps moving towards you.

But oh, you try.

Pressing the heels of your hands tightly over your eyes like a petulant child, you simply avoid to grant him a look at you, even when you feel him gathering your head between his big palms.

"I apologize, Padawan. I'm an awful tease and I took it too far this time. You have every right to be upset with me. Please don't take this to heart."

His thumbs start to caress your cheeks, wiping away stray tears that somehow made it past your hands.

"I truly am sorry. It was not my intention to make fun of your weakness or the feelings you may have regarding me."

Gently he maneuvers you to sit, and, kneeling before you, he pulls your stubborn arms aside.

At first you try to struggle but then quickly give in, his strength far exceeding yours.

"Yes that's it, good girl.", he murmurs.

"I promise that nothing I said came from malice or was meant as an accusation. In truth I did not know how to approach you about a certain topic and I misspoke. Can you forgive me?"

You nod, and the smile he gifts you for an answer makes your heart skip a beat.

He is so beautiful to look at, it hurts.

"I'm not.", you say sadly and he frowns.

"I'm not a good girl.", you explain.

"I- I try so hard, I really do, but I can't keep my thoughts and feelings separated from my training. And It's ruining everything! I simply can't concentrate anymore. I mess up every single thing I try. I'm a horrible disappointment! A hopeless case. And look what a mess I've made, I-I- how am I suppossed to ever look you in the eyes again?“

Hyperventilating , you have to break off and to your embarrassment start crying in all seriousness now.

This is not the first time that happened, of course, but it's different this time; your face is getting blotchy all over, your eyes are swelling and your body shakes with awful sobs you can't conceal.

"I don't deserve to be here.", you cry.

"Not at all. I will never become a Jedi, not when I'm blindsided by that silly, stupid, ridiculous crush. I'm even a burden to the others. I can't continue like this, I can´t! I should lea-leaveee!"

Your Master's expression, worried and compassionate before, now grows sad.

"Oh my dear Padawan, no. Don't speak ill about yourself that way. Come to me, let me hold you. Yes. Very good."

Pulling your trembling body off the seating cushions and arranging you in his lap, he gently presses you close.

"My sweet sweet girl. Hush now. Everything will be alright. It will all be okay. We will find a solution to this, yes? You are not alone and you are not a burden. To anyone. Do you understand?"

His words only make you cry more and you desperately sling your arms around his shoulders.

"Shh shh shh, I won't let go. I won't. I will hold you until you feel better, okay? You are not alone. It is important to me that you understand this. You don't have to speak, just nod."

Your face buried in the crook of his neck, you nod your head yes.

This you can do.

Anything he asks from you, you will give.

"Good. Very good.", he coos and then you are both quiet for a while; except for your occasional sniffles nothing can be heard.

You don't know for how long you two keep sitting on the floor of his living room.

It is like for one rare moment time has stopped and allowed you to simply exist in his arms.

Eventually the steady stream of your tears slows to a halt and you don't feel as miserable anymore.

Just empty and tired.

"Master?", you ask shyly, not yet daring to remove your head from his shoulder to look at him.

To your relieve, he doesn't insist on it and you can feel his chest rumbling when he hums in acknowledgement.

"You said there was a topic you wished to speak to me about?"

Apprehension sneaks up on you again as soon as you utter your question, your fatigue not hindering your mind at worrying.

After your emotional outbreak and everything said, will it even be relevant anymore? When it is unsure whether you might leave anyways?

"Yes.“, he answers

"I planned to after you found me in the woods but then you fell asleep as soon as I sat you down."

Your body grows tense and he reacts immediately.

"None of that. Don´t be afraid, I will not scold you. I'm simply worried. You have not been sleeping well for quite some time now, have you?"

He is worried? About you?

You bite your lip and shake your head no.

This seems suffice as an answer and your Master continues.

"Mmh I thought as much. As much as it hurts me to say this, I can't have you continuing your lessons like this, Padawan. You are bound to repeat accidents like the one last week and it's my responsibility to see that nothing happens to you. Especially now that you seem unable to do so on your own.“

At this you start sobbing again.

It is one thing to have thought about and suspected this yourself, but an entirely different one to hear your Master, the person you want to make proud above anyone else, coming to the same conclusion.

"I still believe that you are capable of becoming a great Jedi, make no mistake. This is not a race or a competition; you may take as much time as you need.

And that's what I believe you should do. Take time for yourself, Padawan. And, when you are ready, I will be more than happy to take you back on as my student."

You know he means well but your heart breaks all the same.

"Are...are you sending me away, Master?"

He sighs and briefly holds you closer.

"Yes...and no. In truth I am conflicted about it myself. Possibly putting a greater distance between this planet and me would be the wisest direction for you to take.“

He slightly has to speak louder then, to be heard over your helpless whimpers.

"But a very selfish part of mine does want you to leave even less than you do."

Raising your tear stained eyes to his, you look at him confusedly.

"W-what?"

Momentarily turning his head away, you see a muscle work in his jaw as he contemplates what to say next.

"I did not lie when I said I cared for you. I care for your wellbeing as much as for you as a person and I do not want harm to befall you any more than I want that to happen to the others.

However..."

He breaks off, thinks for a second before speaking again.

"In truth t has become increasingly harder to block your...thoughts."

"Oh no, Master, I'm so sorry, I'll make it stop I promise!", you cry.

"I-I didn't know this put a strain on you. I never wanted that, I never, I- I'll leave. I will! You will feel better then!"

You try to get up from his lap to do just that. Even with your mind reeling and body aching you are still set to remove his burden, even if it tears you apart.

Already you are planning what to pack and what to leave behind, your thoughts far away.

He is not letting go of you however, and you find yourself struggling against his grip more and more as sorrowful sobs spill out of you.

"Master, what- let me go. Please. Please don't make this harder than it already is. Don't hurt me so, please."

It's when he grips you around the waist and starts easily shaking your body like a doll, that you come to again, startling at his loud voice.

"LISTEN TO ME!"

Never before has he raised his voice at you or on anyone as far back as you can remember and you still, staring at him with wide eyes.

What did you do wrong? Never have you seen him this upset.

"Listen. To. Me. You misunderstand."

His laboured breath fans across your face, as he's wrangling with himself to calm down.

Then, suddenly leaning forward, he kisses you. Hard.

Caught off guard you let out an involuntary yelp but he doesn't seem to mind, instead jumping at the opportunity to enter your mouth with his tongue.

It's impulsive and heated and slightly disgusting, his lips meeting yours with such fervor, your head starts spinning.

You would have lost your balance would it not have been for how tight he is holding on to you and so you cling right back to him, holding on for dear life.

There are teeth and spit, his hands and his hot mouth all over you; it feels like you are being devoured, eaten alive, wholly and completely consumed by his burning desire, utterly hopeless at the face of it.

When he finally sets you free again, allowing you to suck in desperate gulps of air, you are a moaning, gasping mess.

Light headed and giddy you feel like you're floating.

Desperately wanting to be as close as possible to him, to feel him again, you try reaching his lips with yours but he withdraws, turning his head away abruptly.

"M-Master..."

"No. Don't say anything. Please."

When he looks at you again you notice he is out of breath as well, fixing you with a hungry gaze before reining himself back in.

"Your thoughts trouble me because I have grown fond of you myself. How can I distance myself from them, from you, when you cry out for me so sweetly? It is wrong for me, as your teacher and Master, to act on such urges and I apologize for doing so now.

Yet I do struggle. How am I supposed to look the other way when you are suffering and hurting not only physically but emotionally as well? When I know I could ease your pain with the simplest of actions? When all I would have to do is reach out and take?

Breathing in deeply he wipes his hand over his face.

"I won't let you leave. I can't. Where would you even go, all alone? You need someone to take care of you. You do. But I no longer can be your Master either."

At a loss for words you can only stare up at him, as he gently detangles your limbs from his and then quickly rises, leaving you behind.

Silence falls upon the room once again, but when before it was calm and comforting it is now pressing down on you, like it's stealing the air out of your lungs.

You want to run after him, call out for him, but, too deep in shock, your body simply won't follow your orders.

Outside the sun has long gone, darkness descending all around you.

You should go, you tell yourself, the only thought that rings out in the hollow of your heart.

But where to? Outside or away?

"I won't let you leave", you hear your Master´s words repeated in your head.

Then why did he leave you?

You don't have an answer for any of your questions, too numb and exhausted to care.

Slowly you get to your feet, carefully feeling your way through that dark.

Your hands reaching out, they make contact with what seems to be the entrance and you know you made it, are just about to turn the door knob when all of a sudden there comes a voice.

"Wait."

With a startled squeak you whirl around to be faced with a tall figure standing across from you; of course you didn't sense your Master's approach and your first instinct is to be horribly ashamed.

However that quickly fades, the least of your worries, when seemingly out of nowhere the room lightens up and you are able to see him fully, completely clad in black again, donning his robes like an armor.

Abruptly it feels like the last hours and weeks were nothing but a dream; as he stands there looking at you, he once again is the perfect picture of the strict and compassionate Master.

His suit and boots perfectly in order, his hair in place and his features calm and belying the emotions, he displayed just a few minutes ago, he looks like he did all those years ago when you saw him for the very first time.

That day, unbeknownst to you, but not to him, you fell in love.

And looking at him now you never were so sure you still are, the same feelings, that came to the surface upon your first meeting, clawing their way up with such force that it hurts.

He steps towards you then and you fight the urge to throw yourself at his feet, to apologize to beg, to cry, to worship, to do anything to convince him to let you stay with him. To make him allow you to exist in his presence.

He has too! He said so himself. He wouldn't let you go. He can´t.

"Master...", you breathe into the quiet.

"Not to you anymore.", he says with something akin to regret in his eyes.

"I have made my decision and it is final. You no longer are a student of my academy."

He might as well have punched through your ribcage, brutally ripping out your heart, tearing its strings; it would have hurt less than this.

You simply stare, too shocked to even cry. Your body reacts like under remote control, your brain shutting down.

"...I understand."

Quickly turning away you grab the door handle with desperate fingers.

You need to get out of here as fast as possible.

Not a single second longer will you be able to bear this humiliation.

The door, however, doesn't budge and it takes you a moment to realize it's because a big hand is easily holding it shut above you.

In an act of desperation, you reach for it with unknown bouts of desperation, gripping it tightly to rip it away, to let you free.

The hand surprisingly moves, but only to wrap itself around the back of your neck and turn you around, pressing you flat against the hard wood.

Your Master's stare is unwavering, sending chills down your spine, nearly scaring you in its intensity.

He lowers his head to speak into your ear, his voice husky.

"No. I don't think you do."

Stepping away and pulling you along, the grip he has around your neck leaves you no other choice but to comply as he finally opens the door, leading you outside.

As your chest quickly rises and falls with your attempts to gather enough of the cool night air, his demeanor gentles, his hand wandering up to stroke your cheek

"It has grown late. Go back to your room, lay down to rest. I expect to see you again tomorrow."

You bristle and shake off his touch.

"I- I don't understand. What- I'm not a student here anymore, I'm not your Padawan. You said you made your decision. That distance between us would be what is best."

He looks at you and at first doesn't respond, as if waiting for you to catch on.

You don't know what you are supposed to catch on to.

"I also said", he begins slowly

"that it is in no way appropriate for a Master to act on his Padawans's feelings."

You blink in disbelief, something that feels a lot like anger arising in your chest.

"Yes. Why do you have to rub that in? I understand. I UNDERSTAND you don't want me and you never will! You-"

With an exasperate sigh he tilts his head.

"Are you my Padawan?", he asks.

Too indignant to care about your manners, you wave your finger in his face.

"Well noooo, I'm not! How can you be so unbearable CRUEL, making me repeat it again and again and- oh."

Oh.

Leaning down he cradles your face in between his hands, leaving a lingering kiss on the crown of your head.

"Go to bed, sweet girl. I'll be here in the morning."