#a second one wow

[w1dowz-w3b]

"I'm a boy." "I'm a girl." Okay?? Ich bin ich?? Und mehr brauch ich nicht?? Seht euch an??? Was ich kann???

[hinamie]

inflict

[kittysauce]

au where L and Light fall in love during the yotsuba arc ............... i think its a crazy interesting concept

[sakuravalelp]

Don't eat anything else - DC X DP

Using this prompt

Next part

Masterpost

Danny is sure that if it wasn't for his ghost side, he would have already died from malnutrition. Vlad, the monster he is, doesn't allow him to eat any meal without human meat. It's not that he isn't allowed vegetables, fruits, and animal byproducts, but every meal has human meat somehow. Vlad watches him with piercing eyes while he eats, making sure he doesn't avoid the meat.

He's gone days without eating just to avoid it, but eventually, he does have to eat. He has eaten human meat! He wonders if this is why Dan decided to renounce his human side.

Future Vlad had told him that Dan wanted to get rid of his ghost side due to his grief, but maybe Dan thought he would feel better about eating humans if he were a complete ghost. Danny could understand that, but he now knows it wouldn't work...

The Infinite Realms are full of different species, and the act of eating another species that's able to coexist with you in a society feels just as horrendous as cannibalism. Was finding this out what drove Dan mad?

He isn't getting much nutrition when he does eat either, not with him vomiting at least half the times he does. Not that Vlad cares about that;

"Ectoplasm will take care of your body while you stubbornness dies. I do think it would be easier for you if you just stopped being ridiculous and eat."

Ectoplasm and water are the only things he has free access too, and Danny hates how grateful he is for at least having that.

As if things couldn't be worse, he's also been forced to cook the meat. When he started learning how to cook with Tucker's mom, he never, never, would have imagined he would be using his abilities for this. He has grown numb to butchering human corpses…

Corpses are a frequent view in the kitchen. He's scared one day he'll recognize the face of one of them. Vlad knows it and uses to control him, telling him that if he doesn't behave, their next meal might be Tucker or Sam. He hates to admit how docile he's grown.

He hasn't seen Tucker, Sam, or anyone since the explosion in the lab took his family. Vlad doesn't allow him to leave the mansion for anything besides galas. He has him collared like a dog to prevent him from leaving. Except, his collar is a shock bracelet charged with blood blossoms that would inject into his wrist if he tries to escape.

He thought Vlad was bluffing and tried escaping once. His whole body felt like it was burning up in flames, and he wasn't able to move for a week. Vlad told him that next time, the dose would keep him in bed for a month. He hasn't tried escaping since.

He's still talking with them through chat. He doesn't know if Vlad knows, but he doesn't think he does; he told him his phone exploded with the lab. But he can't tell them anything. How could he? How is he supposed to tell them he has cooked humans? That he has eaten humans? That he has grown somewhat numb to it? He can't, and then he feels like he can't talk about anything else that is happening.

Today, as he serves the entrance dish to the first guests Vlad has had since he took Danny in, he forces a fake smile on his face. Inside, he feels a wave of nausea and dread as intense as the first time he was forced to eat human meat. The grotesque irony of presenting this dish, knowing what it contains, twists his stomach and makes his hands tremble ever so slightly.

They don't know. They have no idea that they're being served their own species. They don't know, and Danny is the one forced to make them eat their own kind.

The appetizer is a vegetable-based soup with barely any traces of meat, but the main dish features a full human fillet. The guilt and revulsion claw at his insides, nearly choking him. He has to at least stop them from eating that. He needs to get them out of here somehow. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to try and put a stop to everything else. He can’t let this atrocity continue.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Tim didn't feel comfortable listening to Masters talk about how good the food would be, while Masters' heir served the appetizer with the fakest smile Tim had ever seen. The teen looked so clearly uncomfortable and scared around his guardian that it was hard to resist the urge to grab the boy and leave.

Masters had praised his godson’s cooking during the gala last week, all the while keeping a hand possessively on the teen’s shoulder. Tim didn't like how controlling it seemed, nor how the grip tightened when the teen mumbled quietly about his name being Danny. It was difficult to witness the entire interaction, especially as the teen appeared to fall into a state of complete dissociation afterward.

They were already planning to investigate Masters due to the suspicious nature of all his contracts, but after the gala, they had to shift their focus to helping the teen. They were fortunate that Masters had granted them easy access to his mansion with the invitation to try Danny's cooking.

They couldn't all go to Masters's and leave Gotham behind, so at the dinner, it was just Bruce, Cass, and Tim. Jason was also in the city because he refused to stay away from an obvious abuse case, but he wasn't allowed at the dinner. He would have attacked Masters just from seeing Danny’s uncomfortable stance under his hand during their greeting.

Masters had insisted that Danny serve the food since he had made it, and now Danny stood beside him, serving him the last plate of soup. Danny stumbled for a moment, and before Tim knew it, he was bathed in soup. Tim blinked, surprised at how the soup wasn’t as hot as he had expected, given the steam rising from the other plates.

"Daniel! What the hell are you doing!?"

Vlad exclaimed, standing up from his place, and the teen beside Tim paled.

“I—I am so sorry!” Danny apologized, using napkins to help clean off the soup, his hands slightly trembling. “Did you get burned?”

"No, no, don't worry about it. I'm okay."

"It isn't okay. Daniel, you ruined Mr. Drake's clothes!"

"Sorry... Let's- I think I have clothes that could fit you... So you could change?"

Oh, so that was why his soup wasn’t hot. Danny had poured it on him deliberately; he was trying to get him alone. Despite how scared Danny looked, it seems he still clung to the hope of escaping. Tim felt a surge of relief and determination. He was glad to see that Danny was looking for a way out, and this chance could be their opportunity to devise a plan.

"Thanks, I would appreciate that." he said as he stood from his sit. He saw how Masters was opening his mouth to say something, but Tim didn't want to risk loosing the opportunity. "Please, don't worry about it Mr. Masters, accidents happen, we'll be back in a moment."

Tim locked eyes with Bruce for just a second, a barely noticeable nod telling him Bruce trusted him to do this right. He then followed Danny through the mansion’s halls and up the stairs, noting that Danny’s bedroom was on the top floor. Danny kept his arms crossed, trying to make himself appear smaller.

"I'm really sorry Mr. Drake. I should have been more careful."

"It's okay really, and please, just call me Tim."

"Oh, um, thanks, but Vlad doesn't like nicknames... would- would it be okay to use Timothy instead?"

“… Yeah, sure.” It seemed Vlad controlled the way Danny was allowed to speak. “Would you mind if I call you Danny then?” Tim asked. He had been mentally referring to him as Danny since the gala and wanted to match that with his spoken words.

Danny shrank farther into himself, and Tim was about to retract his suggestion, but then a small smile appeared on Danny's face and he turned to look at Tim.

"Yeah, I would like that." Danny said in a hushed toned, and a hint of fears in his eyes. Like he was afraid to accept the suggestion.

Tim wondered if Masters had punished Danny for mumbling his preferred name at the gala. However, before he could dwell further on the types of punishments Masters might have used, Danny's eyes widened.

"Ancients, you even have soup on your hair-"

Despite Tim’s attempts to reassure him that everything was okay, Danny continued to apologize throughout the journey to his bedroom. Lamenting how foolish it had been to let the plate slip, and how he should have known better.

Danny’s constant self-reproach made Tim question whether he had misjudged the situation. Maybe it had been a genuine mistake. In theory, it wouldn't matter, because he got to talk alone with Danny either way, but he liked thinking that Danny was reaching out for their help.

Once in Danny's bedroom, Danny beelined to his closet to give Tim a change of clothes. Tim took the opportunity to look around. Danny's room was… impersonal. It was sophisticated and extravagant, like a room that would be featured in a magazine. Tim was sure Danny hadn't decided on the decor. He was surprised to see the bedroom had a large balcony connected to it. Maybe Masters trusted it was high enough for Danny not to attempt escaping through it?

"Would this outfit work for you?"

Danny was holding a suit similar to the one Masters had worn at a previous gala. Now that Tim paid attention to Danny's outfit, he noticed that Danny's clothes today were almost a smaller version of what Masters was wearing, with just enough differences to not be immediately recognized as the same. Thinking back to last weeks gala, their outfits were also similar. To what extent was Masters controlling Danny's life?

"Um... if you don't like it I can grab another one..."

Tim blinked, realizing he had just stared silently at Danny while he offered him the clothes.

"No, sorry, got lost in thoughts, I'm okay using those."

"Okay, I'm glad. Again, sorry for..." Danny motioned to Tims clothes "You can change in my bathroom over there." He pointed to a door beside the bed. "Maybe also take a shower?" Danny got a towel from his closet and offered it to Tim.

"Yeah a shower would be good." Tim said, taking clothes and the towel and entering the bathroom.

He'll talk with Danny once he was changed into clean clothes. If only to calm Danny's guilt about the incident.

Danny's bathroom was spacious, with a jacuzzi bathtub, a separate shower, and one of those popular bidet toilets. From an outside perspective it must look like Danny has anything he could want, but Tim knows better than anyone that money doesn't guaranty a good household. It's sad knowing that any CPS agent that did decide to look into this, would be easily push away by Masters money.

Once Tim had showered and changed clothes, he prepared to go back to the bedroom to talk to Danny, but before he did, a green glow from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Tim sucked a breath when he saw what it was. A syringe with traces of Lazarus waters and blood sat beside the sink.

"Timothy? Everything okay in there? Did the clothes don't fit?"

Tim took a photo of the syringe and sent it to the group chat with the caption, "We may have to add experimentation to Danny's abuse." After taking a sample, he decided to leave the syringe behind, considering the possibility that Masters might use the same syringe more than once and notice its disappearance. He really hoped to get Danny out of there that same day, but if they couldn't, he didn't want to make things more difficult for him.

"Everything is okay! I'll be out in a second."

Tim took one last look around while picking up his dirty clothes, just in case he found anything else. When he left the bathroom, Danny was waiting for him, shifting nervously from side to side. It was time to talk to him.

"Danny, look, I wanted to talk-"

"Ah, let me take your clothes! I'll make sure to clean them and get them back to you!" Danny interrupted him, grabbing his arm and shaking his head with a pleading look.

Tim looked incredulous at Danny for a second, before he realized what was happening and mouthed. "Your bedroom is bugged." He hadn't meant it as a question but Danny had nodded anyway. It was fucked up, Danny couldn't even talk confidently in his own bedroom?

"Right, thank you Danny. I would appreciate that. Perhaps we could take the opportunity to meet again in the future."

Danny gave him the look an adult might give a naive child when talking about an unreachable fantasy, and Tim couldn't help but frown at it. Did Danny believe that even seeing them again was too out of reach?

"That would be great, I'll talk with Vlad about the possibility."

Tim was going to say something else to try to reassure Danny that they would be able to meet, but Danny just handed him two pieces of paper. One was unfolded with text on it, and the other was folded into a small square, smaller than his pinky. He read the unfolded paper first.

- Don't eat anymore of the food. Pretend to have some sort of family emergency and leave, please. Read the other paper when you're far away. -

Tim looked at Danny with questioning wide eyes, but Danny just gave him another pleading look. Tim took a deep breath and took a photo to the paper and sent it to the group chat.

"Oh common, aren't you a little old to ask your guardian about every little meet up you have?" (Would you leave with us?)

Danny gives a nervous chuckle.

"Maybe, but after my family, Vlad tends to be really protective, you know?" He said while pointing to his bracelet.

Tim hadn't noticed how tick the bracelet was before. It was metallic, with a red liquid line in the middle.

"Shock bracelet?" He mouthed.

Danny nodded and then mouthed, "if I scape, it poisons me."

Tim pales a bit at that. They had underestimated how dangerous Masters was.

He motioned to his phone and took a photo of the bracelet after Danny nodded and sent to the group chat with the caption: "Shock bracelet with the capacity of poisoning Danny. We won't be able to get him out right now."

"We should probably go back with the others now."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Group chat

Coffee is my life: *Photo of the syringe*

Coffee is my life: We may have to add experimentation to Danny's abuse.

Death boy walking: Fuck!

Death boy walking: @ Adoption addict, we have to get the kid out of there now!

Bones? What bones?: Bruce is entertaining Masters with Cass at the moment little wing.

Bones? What bones?: I doubt he'll read this.

The blood son: There's no way that buffoon has any relation with grandfather. He's company does not follow any of the leagues morals.

Light & shadow: Maybe he found another Lazarus pit?

Light & shadow: They're supposedly naturally formed right? It shouldn't be that crazy for someone out of the league to have one.

Computer genius: It might not even be Lazarus waters. The tone is slightly off.

The blood son: It is possible that it is a different variation of dionesium.

Death boy walking: Who cares? He's injecting the kid with that thing!

Not Bruces kid: Hate to say it but the zombie is right, we can find what exactly when Danny is safe.

Coffee is my life: *Photo of paper with text*

Light & shadow: ????

Light & shadow: Is the food poisoned!?

Computer genius: Already told them through comms to not eat anymore food.

Computer genius: If the food is poison it hasn't affected them yet.

Light & shadow: Do you guys have a way to deal with the poison there?

Bones? What bones?: Don't worry Bruce doesn't go anywhere without the poison antidote kit.

Death boy walking: Of course he doesn't. The paranoid bastard.

The blood son: It isn't paranoia if the danger is real Todd.

Computer genius: I'll call Bruce in 10 to pretend a family emergency.

Death boy walking: You are NOT going without Danny!

Bones? What bones?: Any possibility on taking Danny with you @ Coffee is my life?

Coffee is my life: *Photo of bracelet*

Coffee is my life: Shock bracelet with the capacity of poisoning Danny. We won't be able to get him out right now.

Not Bruces kid: WTFWTFWTFWTFWTFWTFWTF

Not Bruces kid: Wasn't this a low stakes rescue???

Not Bruces kid: Why is this man coming up with plans in the big villain category?

Light & shadow: I'm scared of whatever "the other paper" that Danny gave Tim says.

Light & shadow: Wouldn't be surprised if Masters was connected with a trafficking ring.

Bones? What bones?: @ Death boy walking?

Bones? What bones?: You're too silent...

Bones? What bones?: Remember you won't be able to barge in without putting Danny in danger.

Death boy walking: I ALREADY KNOW THAT DICKFACE.

The blood son: Tt, don't be so surprise by the warning Todd.

The blood son: Your past actions have prove it necessary.

Death boy walking: Shut the fuck up demon brat. You're not one to talk.

... The blood son is writing ...

Light & shadow: Everyone have had their outburst of bad decisions.

Light & shadow: Can we go back to Danny?

Light & shadow: How likely do you think it is that he's a meta?

Light & shadow: Because, I think it's pretty high.

Not Bruces kid: Did you see something strange in him on the gala?

Light & shadow: No, but the bracelet are pretty similar to the meta-suppressors collars I've seen in the past.

Computer genius: I'm calling Bruce right now.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

next part

[itslilacokay]

quick animation thing to get this idea out of my head

[silvertherogue715]

hey @naffeclipse it's been 8 hours.

also happy birthday!

Previous art of these two: First - Second - Third - Bad end - Fourth - Fifth

[wisteriasymphony]

every time a tumblr post mlb rewrite mentions the fact that they're taking out marinette's 'obsessive stalker' characteristics an angel gets run over by a steamroller and fucking dies

[1v31182m5]

Manfruit

[turtletoads]

croc and his little pets ft. his pink boy toy

[oplishin]

May 19 2013: Extreme Rules: where Dean won the US Championship and Seth and Roman won the tag titles.

[bltchkawa]

Take my low effort goromi and my plethora of sketches that I started and then was like 😴😴😴

I am kinda depressed so art has been hard lol

[eggyulksart]

doodles in between matches with the gang

i keep getting the flerken videos interaction because someone on the team really wanted to fist the enemies

[tennessoui]

Would you like to do this one for Obikin ? 👀

22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

💯

[from this list of prompts]

[2. 'have you lost your damn mind?' (LATEST) - 5. 'are you jealous' - 13. 'kiss me.' - 14. 'hey, i'm with you, okay? always.' - 18. 'this is the stupidest plan you've ever had. of course i'm in.' - 19. 'the paint is supposed to go where?' - 24. 'you're the only one i trust to do this' - 27. 'i'm pregnant' - 28. 'marry me?' - 29. 'i thought you were dead' - 32. 'i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified' - 37. 'wanna dance?' - 44. 'if you die, i'm gonna kill you' - 41. 'you did all of this for me?' - 46. 'hey, have you seen...? oh']

22. 'I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice.'

"Oh," a very familiar voice says. "I wasn't aware you were attending the banquet tonight."

Anakin stares down at the empty plate before him. The servers are moving around the tables as guests rise from their seats and begin to chatter amongst themselves. Anakin thinks for a moment about trying to catch his master's eye, but Qui-Gon is across the hall in deep conversation with the representative of Alderaan the last time that Anakin checked. And anyway--he's not sure his master would intervene to help him with this problem.

Even though, technically speaking, this problem is half Qui-Gon's problem. Or, like. At least a quarter of it.

Probably.

"Though I suppose I would have known if you'd responded to my comm-message," the voice says in a lilting and crisp Coruscanti accent that Anakin knows is as much of a ruse as the rest of him.

Anakin scowls down at the table and counts to five. He is here to represent the Jedi Order as a senior padawan. He is not here to start a diplomatic incident by stabbing Prince Kenobi in the hand with a shrimp fork.

Or is it Lord Kenobi?

He thinks, yes, technically probably a lord. Or maybe it was a knight? A duke? Anakin can never remember all the words that make up Kenobi's title. He just knows that Kenobi's elder brother married the queen of Stewjon, so he's now the king consort, and Obi-Wan got to claim a bunch of useless titles without even doing any of the hard work.

And so Obi-Wan Kenobi gets to call himself a prince now when once, he'd called himself a padawan.

Once, even, he'd called himself Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan.

Anakin counts to five again and gathers up all the diplomatic words and scripts he's learned over the years. Then, he actually turns and faces Kenobi, and all of those words fly out of his mind.

Kenobi looks unfairly good in the ivory white of his outfit. The top half is mostly lace, which--isn't it cold in space? Isn't it cold on Stewjon?

He's wearing a small, ceremonial circlet atop his auburn hair, and the glinting gold of the crown offsets the white of his robes nicely. He just--

He looks so beautiful, even as he's lounging in the chair next to Anakin, eyes pinned on his face as if he'd wait all night just to hear him speak.

That sort of look is dangerous. Anakin knows that intimately well. That sort of attention...Anakin isn't built to withstand it for long. Not without succumbing to all and any of Kenobi's demands. He's sure he has a backbone, but it just melts when he's around Kenobi.

But not anymore. Anakin's twenty now, and he's going to be Knighted any day. He's above such weakness.

"I'm sixteen years your junior," Anakin bites out, hand becoming a fist in his lap. "Don't you think maybe it's a little inappropriate to be comm-messaging me without my master's approval?"

Despite the venom he tries to weave through what should be a cutting rebuke, Kenobi's eyebrows raise. He doesn't look ashamed nor does he look particularly discouraged. "After all the rest of the inappropriate things we've done together, darling, I'd think you'd overlook a comm-message."

Anakin's scowl grows exponentially, but Kenobi continues without pause, "Though if you'd like me to get your master's retroactive approval for every time we've interacted, I shall of course. Do you think he'd approve of your judicious but creative use of the Force when you used it to hold me up against the Senate Commons wall and kriff me silly before my meeting with the Chancellor, or should I leave that out?"

Anakin can feel his face flushing, and he's quick to stand, throwing his napkin onto his empty plate and striding away. He needs--he needs to be further away from Kenobi. He needs to not look at the man, not hear him. Then, he'll stop wanting him.

He must stop wanting him. It's ruining his life.

So of course Kenobi follows him because there's nothing he loves more than ruining Anakin, apparently. He's not even being subtle about it anymore, grabbing Anakin's wrist in plain view of all and sundry and using his grip to tug him out of the banquet hall and into an unused nook of space.

It's small enough that there's not much room to stand apart, but Kenobi at least makes the good faith attempt to drop Anakin's wrist and step away from him. In the Force, he feels strange. Worried, almost, which is not an emotion that Anakin has ever felt from Kenobi. Kenobi, who crafts an air of not caring about anything or anyone whenever Anakin and his master are near. Kenobi, who's purposefully disrespectful to Master Jinn, acts purposefully slow and air-headed and conceited.

He could have been one of the best of us, Jinn had told him once. It was the only time he'd ever talked about Kenobi. He made different choices, and I suppose he still blames me for them.

"Come now, Anakin, tell me what's wrong," Kenobi says, nudging at him almost clumsily in the Force. The touch startles Anakin. It's been twenty years or so since Obi-Wan left the Order. Or since Master Jinn refused to take him back as his padawan after a mission on a civil-war struck planet and Obi-Wan had had no choice but to leave the Order.

Jocasta Nu told him once: all stories have different endings and beginnings when the teller changes.

He thinks that's especially true when it comes to whatever tension exists between Kenobi and Qui-Gon. Though Anakin wasn't wise enough to keep himself out of it, he's certainly not stupid enough to shove his nose so forcefully into the middle of it.

"I've seen the way you've looked at me tonight when you think I'm not looking," Kenobi is saying, wheedling really, as his Force signature rubs even more insistently up against Anakin's, like a--like a loth cat winding around his ankles, searching for affection it knows it will be offered.

No. Not anymore.

"Enough," Anakin snaps, throwing up his highest shields and pushing away from Obi-Wan.

"Just tell me what I've done, darling," Kenobi says. Pleads, really. A part of Anakin thinks it's a very good look on him, and then hates himself for thinking it. Weak. Kenobi makes him weak. "It's not that you don't want me anymore, or you'd have spent less time gawping at me all night."

The words are cruel in their truthfulness and they hit unerringly at Anakin's shame, and so he's snarling back at him before he can stop himself: "Everyone was gawping at you, you're dressed like a schutta."

Kenobi doesn't look to be offended, which riles Anakin further.

But then--then the man steps closer and rests a hand on his chest. They're of a height now that Anakin's grown another two inches over the summer. Obi-Wan's eyes are right there. His lips, also.

"And yet who have I dragged off into a dark corner to ravish me?" Kenobi asks, voice pitched low and eyes blinking sultry blue at him from beneath his eyelashes.

"Yeah," Anakin bites, "only because even after twenty years you're still trying to get back at my master for throwing you out like trash. But the stupid thing is that he doesn't even think about you anymore."

The words hit the way Anakin had meant them to, but as he watches the way Obi-Wan's eyes shutter, the way his mouth tightens and the way he takes a step back and his hand coming up to hold his elbow, Anakin realizes that he didn't--he didn't realize what it would look like, to hurt Obi-Wan.

He hadn't realized Kenobi could be hurt, that Anakin had that sort of power.

And maybe he doesn't really, maybe this is just Anakin's master hurting Obi-Wan all over again, but it's still Anakin wielding the weapon. Anakin who was trusted enough that Obi-Wan did not see it coming.

"I see," Obi-Wan says, and Anakin can't hide his wince at the tone. He doesn't like that tone. Didn't realize how warmly Obi-Wan spoke to him until the chill set in.

But it's not as if what he said was wrong, Anakin tells himself. And it's not as if Obi-Wan's been fair to him either, using Anakin like that.

And--and sure, maybe when they first started...whatever this is--was--maybe Anakin had wanted to use Kenobi too. After all, he'd been eighteen and charged with guarding some rich senator at an event just like this one. And Padmé Amidala had been there, and Anakin had been so desperate for her attention that he'd thought--maybe if he could make her jealous by talking with Kenobi--

And talking had turned into kissing had turned into bedding, but it hadn't been about Kenobi, not really, not that first time. It'd been about Padmé and how much Anakin had wanted her to notice him, see him for the man he'd become.

And he's sure that Kenobi had bedded him with ulterior motives too--not to make Qui-Gon jealous, of course, which is a thought that Anakin doesn't even like to think about, honestly--but to make Qui-Gon upset. Master Jinn didn't like the slimmest reminders of his old apprentice. To find out that his old apprentice had bedded his new one...no, Master Jinn did not, in fact, appreciate that.

So they'd both had ulterior motives the first time they slept together, and they'd probably had them for a while after too. It was an arrangement. A casual affair.

Before Anakin had gone and developed feelings for Kenobi, of course.

And now it's not fair. None of it's fair, because Anakin's in love with him and Kenobi's still just sleeping with him for the sake of some bruised pride he's been nursing for twenty years and now Anakin's gone and hurt him, genuinely hurt him, and he doesn't feel the way the Chancellor had told him he'd feel when he told the prince where to shove it. He just feels awful, like he'd been hurt too.

"I apologize for wasting your time, Padawan Skywalker," Kenobi is saying when Anakin tunes back into his voice. His face is hidden behind a cool mask of untouchable indifference. His arm is still crossed in defense over his chest. "I was mistaken in the understanding we had between each other, and I have thus overstepped erroneously."

It's not fair, Anakin thinks wildly as Obi-Wan steps away from him like he's going to move out of the alcove altogether. It's not fair that Obi-Wan's apparently so good at the diplomatic script of the Jedi that he can fall back on it at any moment, even after all of these years, and it's Anakin who can apparently only ever use his words to hurt.

So Anakin doesn't use his words. It's instinct, probably the first one he ever learned, to reach out in the Force instead. Nudge their Force signatures closer together and drop his shields so he can feel--truly feel--the heat of Obi-Wan's presence in the Force entangled around his own.

It's easier after that to reach out his hand and catch Kenobi's wrist. Then it's easier than anything else to use that hold to push him up against the wall and bracket him in with his body to keep him there.

Kenobi doesn't fight against his touch, but he doesn't bloom under it either, the way Anakin's gotten used to him doing. He doesn't even look at him, keeps his eyes on the neck of Anakin's Jedi robes.

"No, I'm sorry," Anakin murmurs, squeezing Obi-Wan's captured wrist. "I didn't--I didn't mean that. Not at all."

"If you didn't mean it at all, you wouldn't have said it," Obi-Wan points out, which is...well, correct, technically, but Anakin doesn't like to hear it.

"I was just...someone told me that," Anakin admits. "And I--I mean, I know you and I know--what we have. And what it is. And I'm fine with that, I understand it. I just let it get to me, that maybe you only like me cause you're still out for revenge against my master. But, um."

Obi-Wan is looking at him now, something soft and quizzical and confused coloring his gaze.

"I thought I couldn't stand being nothing but revenge to you," Anakin makes himself say, even though his breath feels caught in his throat. Danger, danger. He is skirting too close to the truth. He is saying too much. But if he doesn't say anything, what then? "But that's not so bad, I guess. It's better than being nothing to you at all."

Which is a lesson that Anakin has just learned and is eager to never experience again. Even if it makes him pathetic and weak and spineless and some prince's playtoy, or whatever else the Chancellor had implied. He'd like to see the Chancellor stand up to Obi-Wan's dignified yet wounded eyes.

"Darling," Obi-Wan says, and for a moment his hand cups Anakin's face. It's just long enough of a touch that Anakin can't help but to lean into it with an exhale. "You've never been nothing to me."

Anakin gives into the urge to kiss him. It's a miracle that Obi-Wan lets him.

It's also nowhere near enough; Anakin is a greedy sort of man. He doesn't want nothing or a little more than nothing from Obi-Wan. He wants everything.

[mazojo]

I am sick

[protectorcraft]

thinkin about isat again (big surprise) and it would be a wonder if someone in the gang doesnt develop separation anxiety postgame. like other than siffrin considering that's the entire premise of the games plot, i mean.

[wolveragrace]