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fuckmyskywalker · 2 months

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𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞! — 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.

18+ smut, stripper!reader x dilf!anakin, age gap, lap dance, mutual masturbation, fem!reader/afab!reader | word count: 2.8k (not proofread).

Everyone say "thank you Anya".

After a nasty divorce, Anakin Skywalker wanted nothing to do with dates— let alone random hookups. Call him outdated or old-fashioned, but Anakin firmly believed in marriage. Maybe he just had bad luck. He has better things to worry about! His children, his company, his 850 credit card score, and… keeping up with his overly cheerful assistant.

Who somehow, managed to convince him to visit the best nightclub in town— and by nightclub, she meant strip club.

Standing outside the bright building, Anakin wondered how many neon signs were too much. He flickered his cigarette with his thumb, dialing his assistant’s number and watching the ashes fly with the wind, he just wished his hopes didn’t fly that easily. After a few rings, she picked up. “I’m here,” Anakin informed her, feeling as if he was about to start a super-secret mission and he was calling HQ. Lisseth is right, he stays too much at home watching cheesy, 90s TV shows. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Is it obnoxiously bright?” Lisseth asked from the other side of the line, and Anakin discerned the faint click of a lighter.

“Yes.”

“Then you’re in the right place.”

“Can you repeat why am I here again?” Anakin asked, rubbing his forehead and throwing the cigarette away.

“Because you are lonely, divorced, and old?” His assistant replied, presumably smoking as well.

“I should fire you.”

“But you won’t,” He didn’t have to see her to know she was smirking. Lisseth was right, she was one of the few people besides Obi-Wan Kenobi— his business partner— who dared to say things straight, and people like that were a nice change in a world where everyone fights for your favor. “Go inside, give it a chance. You deserve a change of scenery. I know you are the committed type. Give yourself a chance.”

Anakin hesitated again, just like he did when he agreed when the young woman texted him the address, and when he called the cab. He had no idea why she would suggest this place from the many—many strip clubs in the city, but he knew better than to question her. He looked around, it was not like he would care if someone recognized him— he just… didn’t want to be recognized. Big difference, or at least that was what Anakin kept repeating.

“Hello?” Lisseth said which brought Anakin back to his senses. He was overthinking it. How can you overthink walking into a strip club? Men do it all the time! “Are you alive?”

“I am.”

“Good. Now get inside, I think there’s an ATM next to the bathroom. I don’t remember— and dial me if you need anything, I’ll try to stay awake.”

Anakin hung up the call, taking a deep breath and pushing the black door open. Multiple times he had heard his associates talk about this place; how the drinks are great and the girls are better— which perhaps was a reason why Anakin was so reluctant. If a married man found this place appealing, he couldn’t imagine what it would have in storage for a divorced man.

Inside the club, the neon lights were far worse. His eyesight wasn’t bad but the dazzled effect was overwhelming. Anakin fought the urge to rub his eyes, he didn’t want to look that old— so he just brushed the wrinkles off his suit and approached the bar. The bartender eyed up curiously but simply greeted him. The place was crowded but it was somehow comfortable to navigate, he saw a few girls but he felt somewhat strange to stare at them for long. He wasn’t in his twenties anymore— he wasn’t able to see them as a piece of meat like he used to (last time he did he got his first and only wife knocked up). So he just thanked the bartender for his whiskey and took a long sip, hoping it would ease the knot in his stomach. He was a fast drinker, and he was halfway done with the glass when he heard a voice behind him and a soft tap on his shoulder.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your hand on his shoulder was gentle, but Anakin was aware of the salacious undertone in your voice. It was all fake, part of your job. Looking over said shoulder, his blue eyes met your face, and probably for the first time in your life working in the strip club— you found yourself speechless. You have never seen eyes in such a shade of blue, so deep and so easily to lose yourself in. Your glossy lips went dry for a second and you weren’t sure if he felt the same.

“It is not,” He replied, grabbing your hand and guiding you to the empty stool next to him. His hand was strong and warm, too polite for a man who was here to watch women half naked. You took a seat next to him just like you intended but your demeanor switched, which was something that surprised you. The blonde stranger didn’t seem to notice it, he knows nothing about you. For the first time, that has worked in your favor. “The name’s Anakin.”

He let go of your hand and you found your finger twitching against your bare thigh. You gave him your stage name and he simply smiled back, bringing the glass up to his lips. You leaned closer, placing your trembling hand on his thigh and squeezing it softly, noticing how his eyes drifted down to your cleavage only to go back to your face. “What brings you here, handsome?” The usual repertory was filled with cheesy phrases, sweet talk, and 101 manipulations. Emptying a man’s wallet wasn’t a hard thing, or at least after months of practice it no longer seemed like a challenge.

“I assume the same as every man here,” Anakin replied, tilting his head and maintaining eye contact. He was good, he must be an orator or something. Not everyone can stare into your eyes when your tits are literally out. “But being honest, a… friend of mine insisted.”

“Well, then you have a good friend,” You smiled, thanking whoever pushed him into your arms— even if you already knew the culprit. “Is there anything I can help you with?” Your fingers play with the hem of his white button-up, tapping your nails over the ironed fold.

“I have a few ideas,” He lowers his now empty glass, licking his lips. A simple act shouldn’t excite you but Oh it does. He looks like the type of guy who knows how to please a woman and the type of guy to rock your world…

Too bad that’s against the club’s guidelines.

“Such as?”

Anakin seemed to fall under your sultry voice, smirking and bringing his face closer to yours. You thought for a moment he was going to kiss you, but he just whispered in your ear. “I’m sure you know what I want, and I’m sure you are tired of small talk. Do us a favor and tell me what I can and can’t do.”

This was the second time in the night you found yourself speechless. Normally you are the one being straightforward, so why is that handsomely old man doing your job? Unbeknownst to you, Anakin’s heart was racing inside his chest at light speed. It has been years since he last flirted with someone, let alone a stripper— so he felt quite rough around the edges. It seemed to be working, or at least you faked it really well. Anakin’s charm never faded, even if he wasn’t fully aware of it. His bright smile and those wrinkles around his eyes… he could easily be your dad, which shouldn’t be as hot as it sounded. You ran your fingers through his blonde hair, silky and smooth. God, there’s nothing hotter than a man that takes care of his appearance.

“Follow me then,” You manage to say through the loud heartbeat that drowns the loud music around you. You have done this countless times, but this was somewhat different. Why were you acting brand new? Get a damn grip. “You seem like a man who can afford our special treatment.”

Anakin chuckled, he never thought getting robbed would be so sexy. “Do I look special? Or do you say that to every guy?” He followed you anyway, surprisingly lacing your fingers together. His eyes never left yours, not even when other girls and dancers called for him.

“Believe it or not, you look special.”

As you guided him inside the farthest room in the hallway, you locked the door and kindly settled him on the large sofa against the wall. There was a bed in the center of the bed and a pole next to it, but mostly for decoration. Not everyone had the privilege to fuck, lucky ones got to touch— but Anakin looked like he could win the lottery. This time he eyed you up and down, relaxing over the velvety cushions and spreading his legs. You’ve seen men sit that way countless times yet the way he did it was abysmally distinct. He had an air around him that no one could match and it truly excited you. Time wasn’t really a problem in this room, and he looked like someone who could treat themselves. The treat is a lap dance, of course.

You picked the music, and that was the only thing that fitted into your routine. The top piece of your heels sank into the fluffy carpet as you made your way back to him, deliberately swaying your hips. Comfortably, you straddled his lap, lazily draping your arms over his shoulders. Anakin’s hands touched your hips and you were about to warn him about the rules… but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at that moment.

“You’re beautiful,” He whispered, his voice already hoarse. How long has this man been pent up? Only God knows. You giggled and began grinding against him, running your hands up his shoulders and cupping his face. Anakin’s eyes left your breasts to meet yours, lidded eyes heavy with ecstasy that the erotic dance brought him. “So fucking beautiful…”

His presence was starting to be a problem, at least for you. You couldn’t look away or stop your hips from rolling over his growing erection. It was highly unprofessional, even for a stripper but you’ve done worse things— to uglier men. Anakin hissed when you fully sat on top of him, and the grip on your hips tightened. The song changed and neither of you was aware of it.

Returning your hands to his shoulders you used them as leverage to move, basically humping him without realizing it. You could lie and say this was part of the dance— but in reality, your body was moving on its own.

“Can I touch you?” Anakin requested, huffing and lifting his hips. His cock was aching but not fully hard yet. The right answer was to say no… so your hands reached for his and placed them over your chest. He sighed in clear contentment and cupped your tits, jiggling them softly and running his thumbs over your nipples, teasing you until they peeked underneath the sheer fabric of your lace bra.

The urge to thank him was very, very present. Words failed you as he lowered the cups of your bra, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his eager mouth. Instantly, you tugged on his curls, just noticing the silver strands. He groaned against your flesh, tugging on your sensitive bud with his teeth and guiding you with his free hand. The dance quickly turned into a session of dry humping— not that you had any complaints.

Anakin then cupped your center, rubbing his index finger through the thin thong and pushing it to the side. Everything was escalating too quickly and you needed to even it out— mostly to defend your pride— so you quickly unbuckled his belt, and Anakin didn’t even flinch. The tip of his finger ran through your folds and quickly found your clit, faster than any other man you’ve been with. You gasped, yanking his black boxers and biting your lip when you saw his cock. He was fully hard now and it looked like it fucking hurt. Above than average was your first thought, followed by the incessant desire to have him stretch you. From zero to a hundred, probably. Your hand looked tiny around his shaft, which sent a thrill of excitement down your spine. Anakin rolled his eyes and jerked his hips, silently asking for more. He circled your clit with practiced ease and that confirmed your suspicions— he is the type of man who knows what he’s doing and how to do it.

“Are you always this wet for your clients or am I really special?” Anakin taunted you as if he wasn’t the one paying for the fucking lap dance. To confirm his accusation— because yes, it was an accusation— he sank a finger inside you, curling it softly and rubbing your walls at a slow pace. “I’m starting to think you don’t do this for everyone.”

“I don’t,” You choke, panting and determined to not be left behind. You began jerking him up at the same speed he fingered you. “It takes two to tango, you know?”

Anakin laughed. He dared to laugh. God, this man… “You are feisty, I like that.”

The damned butterflies returned, this time fluttering around your stomach and your pussy. Anakin was good at this. He wasn’t the average pathetic man who couldn’t understand the touch of a woman, nor an ancient dinosaur that was cheating on his wife and shamelessly rocking their wedding band as they threw dollars to your feet. No, he was one in a million. He noticed your silence and took advantage of your blissful state, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside you. If you knew better you would’ve thought he was stretching you. Stepping up your game, you stroke his cock faster, bringing your free hand to your mouth to spit on it, using both hands to touch him.

That seemed to be a weak spot for him, and you actually heard him moan. It was a raw, guttural groan that made your pussy clench around his fingers. Looking down, you saw the wet, throbbing head, now glistening with your spit and the smeared precum. You could swear he looked thicker— or maybe it was your burning delirium for having him rearranging your guts.

He wasn’t one to back up from a clear challenge, so he rubbed his fingers against your G-spot repeatedly, pressing tight circles over the spongy spot. Your hips jerked just like he did moments prior and for the first time in a while, you moaned someone else’s name. Anakin seemed to be pleased by your reaction and continued it, exclusively stimulating that spot that built up the recognizable pressure in a matter of seconds.

“I’m gonna come,” You whimpered, closing your eyes. Anakin’s jaw clenched at the way your pussy sucked his fingers. Would you suck his cock with your velvety walls the same way? “Please, don’t stop.”

“Hold it,” He hissed but it wasn’t a request or anything. “I want to do it with you.”

You held your breath, flicking your wrist up and down, moaning repeatedly at the expertise of his touch. The knot in your lower stomach threatened to snap and holding it was borderline painful. The loud squelch of your cunt made the music surrounding you irrelevant, it was new music that was indeed expensive but— pornographically beautiful. Anakin hung his head back with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. His scent was intoxicating, the mixture of his— surely fucking expensive— cologne, aftershave, and salty sweat was drowning you in a needy mess. Dragging you down to his spell when it was supposed to be the other way around.

“Do it,” He urged you, repeating it over and over. His hard cock twitched in your hands repeatedly until he groaned loudly and his release crashed with yours. “Come for me— come on, princess.”

Your walls gushed around his fingers, coating them in your own arousal seconds before his cum landed on your hands and your thighs— some on his thighs too. You called his name again, this time in a high-pitched moan. Anakin continued until you were on the verge of tears from the overstimulation, absentmindedly jerking his cock again as it started to soften in your hands. Your sweaty bodies were a mess of combined fluids and… broken rules.

You were in so much trouble.

“See what special guests get?” You painted, finally retrieving his hands from his dick and fixing your bra. “You should be thankful.”

“Oh, believe me. I am,” Anakin purred, grabbing your hips and yanking you closer, finally pressing his lips against yours. “Hope you have a better treat for regular special guests.”

You really, really needed to thank homegirl for bringing him here.

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#dilf!anakin #dilf!anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x fem!reader #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x reader smut

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mrskokushibo · 11 months

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To Succumb

Kokushibo x Fem!Reader

I NSFW I 18+ I MDNI I

Synopsis: You are a Hashira, and on your mission, you encounter Upper Moon One. What happens next is beyond your wildest dreams.

Warnings: SMUT. Vaginal penetration. Creampie. Oral. Rough oral. Mild degradation (mainly verbal) Fem!Submission. Dom!Kokushibo.

A/N: It seems as there is some anticipation built up for this one. Thank you for your request, Anon. ( Link to the request.)

Wordcount: 2552

Masterlist

As you ventured into the forest, with every step you took, the light was fading more and more, and almost unnatural darkness was invading the space between the tall trees. Your steps were muffled by the softness of the moss as if you were treading on a carpet.

The reason you embarked on the several-mile-long journey was a suspected demon sighting near a village in the vicinity of the Demon Slayer headquarters. Its' inhabitants have been supportive of the secretive organisation for centuries. They practiced and honoured the recently ostracised culture of the samurai. Unfortunately, in the past few months, the authorities took an interest in that, with soldiers being sent to inspect and invigilate the villagers. It was all but a minor nuisance until a whole squadron of soldiers disappeared on the way to the village. This made the local law enforcement even more suspicious and there were measures to be taken. Increased harassment and surveillance of the villagers would also put the secrecy of the location of Demon Slayer Corps headquarters at risk.

The news reached Master Ubuyashiki and a suspicion of demons lurking in the forest nearby arose. It would not be out of the question if Muzan was starting to sniff out the location of the headquarters. As a devoted Hashira, you volunteered to take the assignment to inspect the area for possible demons. You decided to go alone, as it was easier to stay unnoticed by the authorities. The last thing anyone needed at this point was both demons and law enforcement getting too close to the headquarters.

You were in one of the deepest parts of the forest now. The foliage was much denser here, vines covered the knotted tree trunks and the moss was so thick that your feet sunk with every step. Only faint rays of sunlight were now reaching the forest floor and your senses were on alert.

And that is when you spotted it. A demon. He was tall and with a powerful build, dressed in a traditional outfit of hakama and kimono, with long red-black hair tied in a thick and unruly ponytail, and layered bangs framing his face. His clothes were black and purple and he had a huge katana stuck under his obi. The saya of the sword was red and decorated with eyes, that seemed to be … moving. He had his left hand casually resting on the tsuka of the katana. The hand had a completely normal human anatomy, indicating, that he most likely kept his human body. His face was that of an unusually handsome human male, however now demonically transformed by six red eyes. He was impressive.

And as you looked into his eyes, you noticed it, the writing, kanji for Upper Moon One… Your heart sunk like a millstone, hindering any movement from you. You were as good as dead now. There was no way you could stand a chance against one of the upper-rank demons. And this was number one, the strongest of them all. His aura was palpable, slowly gripping you like a vice. He was emitting such darkness that it felt like the night has already begun.

‘Greetings, slayer’

A deep, resounding, and dignified voice filled the space between you. His tone was condescending and he sneered.

‘Have you come to fight me?’

He thought you a pitiful little creature, yet he had to admire your bravery, to do what was right according to your orders, that was something he did have respect for.

He started moving toward you, his aura gripping you tighter with every step he took. You were almost choking, your whole body squeezed by the pressure. Slowly a different sensation began to arise. To your dismay, you were becoming… aroused. The pressure did not discriminate and with so much of it being exerted on your breasts and between your legs that it was no wonder that it gained this kind of unwanted effect on you. This was also enhanced by his imposing and stunning appearance. He might have been a demon, but by retaining an almost completely normal human form, he made any man you ever met in your life appear like a boy in comparison.

*What is this?* You were so ashamed of how your body was reacting to someone you should be only feeling hatred towards.

To make things worse, he started speaking again in scorn.

‘Oh, how amusing, little slayer, I see you are a whore too, not just a tragic little Hashira.’

You were aware of the existence of a special ability called the transparent world and obviously, this demon had full control over that ability. How else could he see what you were experiencing? You were good at hiding your emotions, one of the lucky ones to not even blush when embarrassed.

As he was approaching a nagging thought kept on bothering you. *Why doesn’t he just kill me? He would be done with me in seconds.* What you did not understand, is that from his perspective you were neither vicious nor powerful enough to satisfy his appetite, and yet he could not help but admire your bravery in facing him completely on your own and not just turning on your heel and running.

‘I will kill you, demon. I will bring your head to the Master. You’ll see.’

Your pathetic and futile threat embarrassed even yourself as soon as the words left your lips.

‘Ubuyashiki, that annoying weakling? Oh no, it is his head I will take to MY Master.’

He sneered again, his deep voice carrying a menacing tone.

He was now straight in front of you, his tall figure towering over you.

‘Undress and kneel!’ his commanding tone left no room for resistance, so you did as you were told.

Your thoughts were muddled, his aura burning into you, clouding your mind, and making your body heat up. When all control was lost, your hands wandered to his groin, cupping his clothed manhood. He did not stop you, only looked down at you with nostrils flaring and lips twisted in a vicious smirk. He was not fully erect, but as soon as your hands touched him, his cock started twitching and growing to a monstrous size.

Without a word, he removed his hakama and the obi holding his kimono together. As it came undone the arousal you felt deepened causing your pussy to leak uncontrollably. You have never seen a male body this perfect, never of such an imposing size and stature. Even his voice was now sending you into overdrive as he spoke with a stoic look in his eyes

‘I might just as well have some fun with you, little whore. You seem to be asking for it and I just so happen to be in the mood to grant someone’s wish.’

He sneered sarcastically, almost amused by his own witty comment.

‘Take it in your mouth’ his deep voice now commanded.

Forgetting your orders from Master Ubuyashiki, forgetting who you were, you leaned forward and opened your mouth wide while encircling the base of his shaft with both your hands. Your mouth was now slowly taking him in, your tongue lapping up the salty precum. Surprisingly, he tasted human. He was patient with your slow progress, with eyes closed, he was savouring the sensation that the inside of your mouth was causing him to feel.

You kept on sucking, but you neither could go deep enough nor suck any faster. He was too big. You were making cute little wet, gagging noises and your eyes were tearing from the strain. He had his large hand on your head all the while you were working away on his cock. Suddenly, he grabbed your hair and yanked it back, pulling you off and away from his dick.

‘This is not good enough’ he hissed and with that pushed you onto the soft moss. You were now flat on your back, waiting in anticipation while he was slowly removing the remainder of his clothing.

He then kneeled between your legs and batted them away with his large thighs, so you would be nice and wide open for him. He hovered above you and without a warning, pushed his entire length into you as you screamed at the initial pain that this caused you. You were literally impaled on him and you could not believe something so huge could fit inside your small hole. His thrusts were strong and rough, but in no time at all your discomfort was turning into pleasure as your pussy was clenching and sopping all over his huge cock.

He was so deep inside you that you could feel him pressing into your cervix. Your pussy was being moulded to his cock’s shape and size, you were shocked that you were taking him so well, so willingly. Fuck, no man has ever made you feel so full, so satiated, and at the same time craving more. You started to move your hands all over his shoulders, chest, and abs, running them through his thick black hair. He was magnificent and you wanted him now so badly to fill you up with his seed. The indecent thoughts startled you yet you were too lost in the pleasure to care about decency.

You were moaning and screaming. ‘More…more…harder… please…’ You were mumbling and pulling on his mane. His thrusts were brutal and the force was sending you deeper into the moss. But you wanted it this way. Your pussy clenching and spasming, every sensitive spot being stimulated at the same time, the knot in your belly pulling your aching clitoris and pussy tighter and tighter together, until it burst to cause an orgasm that made your body spasm and shiver, your juices squirt out and your mouth elicited a scream that lasted for a good ten seconds.

When you were done with your climax, he paused for a moment and looked at you, cocking his head and smirking:

‘Where is the brave Hashira now, hm? You wanted to kill me and bring my head to your master and instead, you let me fuck you. You let a demon fuck you.’

He savoured the last sentence.

His long index finger was tracing the outline of your face, your lips, your profile, and your eyebrows, causing small electric shocks of pleasure to burst out under your delicate skin. He continued talking.

‘You know, you are pretty, clever, and skilled enough for me to make you my private little oiran.’

He nearly chuckled but the idea must have aroused him more, as he resumed his thrusts with far more power and speed. His teeth were gritted and he was close to his own climax. His abs contracted as his rough hips were thrusting into you, faster and harder and deeper. And then his thrusts grew slower and with one deep shove into you he emptied himself inside you, you could feel a bulge forming on your belly, you were so full.

When he pulled out, his semen run out of your pussy and all over your thighs and his twitching cock sprayed out some more on your belly. You were completely out of breath, but he seemed unmoved. You looked down and his cock was again semi-erect.

‘Lick it clean, my little whore’

And you did not need encouragement anymore, he was training you well, and you were becoming just that, his whore. You went on all four and started licking his dick, the combined flavour of both your sexes was enticing your taste buds. You closed your eyes and soon he was hard again, thick veins, like ropes snaking around his girthy shaft.

He grabbed your hair, twirled it around his wrist, and pushed your head down onto his cock making you gag. He was moving your head for you at a tempo he desired, with no concern for you choking on his huge manhood. Drool was dripping down your chin as he kept on the self-indulgent action, the sloppy gagging noises making him harder every time he pushed your head down.

Eventually, he let up, loosening the grip on your hair, and you, as driven by instinct, pulled away from him, wiping away the spit and tears caused by this rough mouth fucking.

He turned you around so that your ass was now high up in the air, facing him, and pushed your head down, his hand sliding down to an iron grip around the back of your neck. He grabbed his stiff cock and placed the tip at your entrance, then placed his large hand on your ass, and once again, with one ruthless thrust, he shoved himself fully into you. At this point you were already adjusted, wet enough and your genitals deliciously blood-filled and swollen that the action caused you nothing but extreme pleasure.

He was so much deeper inside you now as well. You felt his tip entering your cervix for every thrust. His heavy balls were slapping against your clit and the chokehold on your neck was depriving you of just enough air that you were hovering on the border of being semi-conscious. Thanks to the transparent world, he had perfect control of you. You were his little fuck toy now.

You knew you would soon come and you were letting him guide you toward the peak of your ecstasy. He was close too, every thrust growing sloppier and deeper, until after one deep push into you, he stopped and sprayed his seed straight into your cervix, his twitching and spasming cock shoved in and out of it with a slow pumping motion. This made you come as well and you were once again screaming and shaking uncontrollably.

When both of you finally descended from your respective highs, he spoke in a hushed and serious tone.

‘You see, what you have just done, is final. You can no longer return to your little slayer friends. They will recognise the smell of a demon on you. They will smell my seed. This is nothing you can wash out, not even if you tried. And I will not grant you the mercy of honourable death. So, you only have two choices: abandon being a Hashira and live the rest of your days in regret of what could have been, or succumb to me and become mine forever.’

This was all he said and now it was your turn to choose. You thought of how hard you worked to become a Hashira and how awful a dull, mundane life would feel after that. You could always commit seppuku, but it was not in your character to ever do a thing like that. You thought of all the brave men dying off around you and how lonely you felt knowing you would never find anyone to belong to.

At this moment, this choice was a terrible one, but this demon made you experience what no man ever managed to give you. Your flesh craved him, your mind was engulfed by him and you could feel a faint voice of your soul urging you to let go, to follow your destiny.

And when pulling his head closer to yours into a deep and passionate kiss, you knew now, that your fate was sealed for all time to come.

Banner by @cafekitsune

Artwork downloaded from Wallpapers.com

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Tagging ❤️: @tired-writer04 @muzanswaifu @doumadono @koku-shibou / @kokusfluffyhair @sunsblaze @fuckkyourlife @paintoreos @koyuki-the-flower @muzansfangs

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proship-jedi · 1 year

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Got emotional thinking about jedi lineages.

Like. Maybe Ahsoka ties her obis in double knots because that’s how Anakin taught her. He told her it helped them stay on better.

But Anakin does it because that’s how Obi-Wan helped him, the first time he wore the robes that seemed impossibly heavy, with the weight of his new life.

But Obi-Wan only tied it like that because he had seen Qui-Gon do the same, and had desperately wanted to be perfect, so copied his master.

But Qui-Gon only did it out of habit- of all the rules of decorum that Dooku taught him that he ignored, the obi knot had stuck.

But Dooku had been trained by the greatest master of them all, so assumed however Yoda tied his robes was the most correct.

But maybe that is all because, centuries ago, a master whose name the rest of them will never know, taught his tiny padawan to double knot his obis, because they just never fit right.

And Ahsoka will never know that she got this from a jedi who lived in a totally different world from her, who she never knew and would never know her, but the legacies are there, no matter how small. And I bet every lineage has a handful of them.

I just... the jedi leave behind their blood ancestors, but they still have things running in their families.

#jedi positivity #disaster lineage #qui-gon jinn #obi-wan kenobi #yan dooku #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #yoda

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tanuki-kimono · 5 months

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Hello, I have a weird question but maybe you can answer it. When I was a teenager I was gifted a yukata and taught to tie the obi to make it look like a bow. That was cute then, but now that I'm in my mid 30s I wonder if this is still appropriate. Are there other ways to tie the obi of a yukata that are maybe a bit more mature ? I love wearing my yukata, but I'm starting to get self-conscious about maybe being too old for that… (I only wear it for matsuri in Japan so it's not like it's often, but it makes me even more self-conscious because I am very clearly not Japanese so I don't want to look ridiculous.) Thank you !

Hi fellow mid-30's kimono wearer :D It's true some styles can feel a bit weird depending on ages.

Though nothing truly forbids you to keep wearing bunko musubi, if you don't feel confortable with a bow knot or its variations (for ex. this one or this one?), don't despair! there are many (like MANY) other knots which would work with your age and "status" :D

If you wish for something classical, I'd recommend:

Kai no kuchi musubi (clam mouth knot) - a super all purpose knot, worn by women and men alike. It's been around for ages and never went out of style!

Ronin musubi (ronin knot) or katabasami - unisex knots that have been around for a long time too, pretty sturdy and chic.

Karuta musubi (card knot) - easy to tie and quite flat so perfect if you have to ride a car/train or sit on Western chairs.

Taiko musubi (drum knot) or tsunodashi musubi (also called Ginza musubi) - you can fake those ones (usually tied with wider obi) with a hanhaba obi, see examples here and here.

More on the novelty side :

Kamifusen musubi (paper balloon knot) - a more whimsical knot but could still work depending on your style. It asks for preparation but it's very cute :)

Neko mimi musubi (cat ears knot) - there are many variations, with or without hanhaba obi - look at this one for ex

Not-tied obi, a super modern way of wearing obi. Ayaaya has a lot a those, check for example this one and look at her socials for more (especially "frilly" variations)

Any variations of what I call the "waterfall" musubi, where obi ends are elegantly arranged thanks to elastique belts. It's super fashionable atm, see it shown step by step on Billy Matsunaga's channel.

To go further, searching for "hanhaba obi musubi" will gives you a lot of other ideas ;)

Hope it helps, and that you'll have a lot of fun at matsuri!

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kakushino · 8 months

Text

I know

Iguro Obanai x AFAB! Reader

Happy Birthday, Obanai!

Tags: fluff, self-worth issues, oral (f receiving), switchy vibe reader (?) Word count: 2,1k

Masterlist

The 15th of September.

A date your love did not celebrate.

You were determined to make it special for him though. Clad in your usual sleeping yukata, cut short just to the mid-thigh, you waited for him in his bedroom, walking back and forth with nerves. You hoped he would not throw you out.

The door opened, interrupting your thoughts.

Obanai stood frozen at the doorstep, already out of his haori and uniform jacket, Kaburamaru nowhere to be seen.

You were set on this, and you hoped he would want this too.

“Hey,” he rasped out, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”

It was now or never.

You stepped closer to him slowly, he met you halfway. Though he was short compared to others, he was still slightly taller than you, give or take a few centimeters.

“I wanted to make today special for you.”

He blinked slowly. “I… see.”

It was not a response you thought you would get, but you were going to work with it nonetheless. “So… I’m all yours, Obanai,” you whispered, laying your forehead onto his sternum, hiding your flushed face.

He hummed. “I know.”

“Whatever you want to do, whenever you want, it’s yours.”

“I know.”

Yet he did nothing to initiate; you had to start this on your own. His muscles jumped underneath his skin as you undid his shirt button by button. “If you want to stop, that is also fine.”

“...I know.”

Do you? you wanted to ask. But you didn’t. “Tell me to stop when you want to stop. We don’t have to do anything at all.”

But I want to, he wanted to say. I want to feel your skin on mine, to learn your body in ways only a lover can. I want to make you feel as loved as you make me feel.

Your fingers trailed over his ribs and opened the shirt fully. You kissed his neck softly, a feather-light brush of your lips on his pulse point. His heartbeat remained steady, yet fast. You knew this was only thanks to his Breathing.

Obanai nuzzled his cheek against yours, bandages on skin, breathing you in. Finally, finally, his hands rose up from his sides, gently trailing from your hips to your waist, the obi of your sleeping yukata but a flimsy barrier to your body. His motions were hesitant, yet he didn’t stop - to think or overthink this - and undid the knot keeping your short yukata together.

The thin fabric fell down as the yukata unwound itself a little. It was already a big step for Obanai - initiating something like this - and it made you a bit bolder. Fingers going over his skin up, up, up to his shoulders, and then his shirt slowly slid off his lean yet muscular frame. You didn’t look down, you leaned back a little to look directly at him. “I love your eyes,” you murmured, your palms gently caressing up his neck -

He tensed; you stopped, not looking away.

“We can stop if you want to,” you reiterated.

His response was the same. “I know.” His hands fisted the flimsy fabric of your yukata, making it uncover more of your skin. You wore nothing underneath, his eyes fixated on that.

Obanai was not ready to undress fully, but he could undress you, and pleasure you otherwise than with…

Mind made up, he pulled at the fabric. It fell off, leaving you naked.

You fought to not hide from him, knowing this was much more for him than for you. You wanted to, no, needed to reassure him that you trusted him, and that he could trust you too.

“Close your eyes.”

The gentle command made your heart leap in your chest, and you did as he asked. You knew this took a lot of trust from him and you wished nothing more than to fulfill this need of his.

Today was about him.

Silken bandage, worn soft with age, covered your eyes as he wound them around your head. He trusted you, but not that much, it seemed. Your heart felt heavy, but you swallowed the disappointment.

Today is about him, you reminded yourself.

Now blind, you waited to see what he would do; his hands stayed cupping your cheeks, skin rough but touch so soft you felt like crying. Only Obanai could show you how he felt for you with that simple touch.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Yesss,” you sighed out softly, wanting to lean forward and meet him halfway, but you stayed put, letting him go at his own pace.

You felt his breath upon your skin, he smelled faintly of matcha - he must have come from Shinazugawa’s then. All thoughts flew out of the shoji doors when his lips - rough, chapped - made contact with yours. It was barely there, but it warmed you to the core.

You kissed him back, your hands resting upon his hips.

He pulled back. “Lay down.” Obanai guided you to the futon.

As you laid there, you listened to his Breathing; he seemed to be hesitating again.

"We can-"

"Stop." His palm made contact with your breast, gently running his thumb over the stiff peak. You gasped at the sensation. "Don't talk."

Obeying, you surrendered yourself to him and his touch. Another warm hand joined the first, mirroring his movements, sending shivers down your spine. He didn't delay long on your chest, caressing your waist and belly as he went down. He stopped at your hips.

"Can I?"

"Yes."

You loosened the muscles of your legs, awaiting his guidance of where he wanted them. His hands trailed down to your knees before he gently spread them open. You bent your knees to allow for a comfortable position and trembled a little in anticipation, your breathing quickening.

Obanai stared.

Of course he’d heard enough of Uzui’s boasting to know a thing or two, all Hashira did at this point, but nothing prepared him for the real thing - the real thing belonging to you on top of that.

Your… pussy was so wet already. He’d barely touched you, yet you were so… excited, so aroused by this, by him.

It was a heady feeling.

He lowered himself onto his belly to stare directly at you; uncertain fingers touched your entrance, making you startle a little. Angling them up, he delved between the lips, gathering a little of your slick; your thighs trembled and you drew a sharp breath.

The scent of you was going to drive him crazy. He wondered how you tasted.

Before he could stop himself, he was licking at his fingers. Oh, he needed to taste it from the source.

Before you could stop him, he was licking at you, drawing a long moan from you, and him in turn. Obanai had never been religious in his life, given his background, but in that moment, he wondered if you were the source of godhood, the ambrosia flowing from your core into his greedy mortal mouth.

He wound his arms around your thighs like a snake, fingers digging into your skin, restraining you against jerking back from his attentions. He ground his hips into the bedding, seeking the same relief he was bestowing upon you like prayer to a deity, more of your moans a blessing to him.

You didn’t know what to hold to tether you to Earth, the only thing you could grip was the futon underneath you. You bit your lip, keening lowly when his teeth grazed your clit lightly. Shockwaves of pleasure raced up and down your spine with each touch of his tongue against your sensitive heat as you gushed more for him.

He’d never felt so thirsty in his life - he was positively parched to hear more of your pretty sounds and to taste more of you. Obanai pulled back slightly to flick his tongue against your clit in quick strokes, making your muscles jump and try to pull back from the intense delight; he did not let you.

It was an ever-climbing upward spiral of ecstasy.

Then, you fell apart.

Obanai had never seen a prettier sight in his life. And it was brought on by him, made by him, his hideousness on full display - it was his mouth, his mouth that brought you pleasure.

He felt drunk. His head was spinning. He had never thought he could be the source of your pleasure like this.

The tremors of your thighs around his head reminded him where he was - reminded him that he should not be getting lost in his thoughts when there was more to be dealt out.

He dove back in with hunger and desperation he didn’t show before.

You felt like a mess, you were making a mess of the both of you - on your thighs, on his face.

“‘Nai, puh-lease-” you groaned, trying to escape from his tight grip. He didn’t budge, only sucking on your clit lightly, and delving back to your entrance for more, more, more.

Where the first build up felt like you were rising to the Heavens, now you were sinking into the Depths. The lewd sounds Obanai made between your legs were muffled, your own voice gaining a wobbly tone, like ripples upon a pond. Your muscles clenched and unclenched around his head, you didn’t know whether to draw him closer or push him away.

You didn’t know up from down, left from right.

Only Obanai and your pleasure registered in your mind.

Your lover was having the time of his life, intoxicated on your sweet sweet slick. He ate you out like you would disappear at any moment, he could not bear to pull back even for a single second. His hands might leave bruises from how tightly he gripped onto you, but he couldn’t care less when your sighs and whines spurred him on.

He took and took and took, until you were drowning, the edge of your release so close-

Your back arched, body going taut when he flicked his tongue just right, when his nose brushed your clit just right. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as he lapped up at your juices, still lost in your pussy.

You tried to catch your breath, whining when he tried to extract more from you. You blindly pushed his head away from your soaked cunt, mumbling, “N’more, ‘m tired, ‘Nai.”

Obanai accepted your words, leaning his cheek against your thigh as he watched your sweaty body heave breaths. He nuzzled against your leg; this was the first time in his life since he’d gained his scars that he felt less than hideous. How could he? He’d given you two orgasms in quick succession using the parts of him that he hated the most; only, he didn’t hate them as much now.

Before he could chicken out, he was slithering up your body and taking off the bandage covering your eyes. He closed his own; despite the bravery he had felt, he didn’t want to see the disgust on your face when you finally saw all of him.

He was straddling your hips, awaiting his judgment.

There was a sound of shifting fabric. “Can I?” you asked him hesitantly.

He swallowed thickly, but nodded nevertheless.

Warm hands cupped his cheeks, making him jerk back a little despite him knowing what you wanted to do. Thumbs stroked over the scars; Obanai suddenly felt oversensitive, nerves firing off faulty signals as pain stung him with each soft caress of your thumbs. Tears pricked at his eyes.

He truly did not deserve this. He did not deserve you.

Your hands pulled him down gently; he followed your lead, eyes still closed, breathing picking up from nerves -

A kiss. You bestowed a kiss upon the ugliest part of him - his scars - so tenderly that the dew gathering at his lashes started spilling. The next kiss mirroring the first on the other side was wet with tears - his or yours, he did not know, nor did he care.

“You thought I was going to abandon you?” you asked softly, as if he were a skittish animal ready to bolt had you raised your voice only a little more.

He remained silent, not meeting your eyes.

“We belong together, Obanai. I love you,” you said, leaning your forehead against his.

His hands covered yours, the touch reassuring as he guided one of them to rest over his heart. You could feel the steady thrum of it with each strong, steady beat.

You closed your eyes. “I love you,” you whispered. The heartbeat quickened momentarily, though he still said nothing, and you knew, in that moment, that he loved you as much as you loved him. You knew, though he did not say it, that you affected him as much as he affected you.

You shared the same air, your breathing harmonized, your hearts beating in sync.

“I love you, forever and always.”

dividers by the awesome @benkeibear

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #iguro obanai #obanai x reader #obanai x you #obanai x y/n #obanai iguro #kny fanfic #kny x reader #smut #obanai smut #kakushino

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nymphoheretic · 3 months

Text

In His Clothes

Nymph: After months of waiting, drama, losing my sweet anon babies, seasonal depression, I've finally finished one of the NSFW fics of Wearing their clothing headcanons. These were not supposed to be fics, but c'est la vie. I hope you all enjoy!

Synopsis: You should have known better than to wear their clothing. The possessive looks should have been enough, but their clothes were so big and comfy....

Warnings: 18+ explicit smut, degrading, biting, blood, marking, bondage (sekido binds the readers hands), knotting, cervix kissing, dry humping, squirting (let me know if I forgot anything)

Special shoutout: Thank you @unknownspecies and @suyacho for beta-reading this!

Sekido didn't know what to expect when he came into his room to find you trying on one of his kimonos – the large fabric nearly swallowing your frame as the long sleeves hid your hands. The open neck shows a line of your abdomen down to the lacy black underwear you wore. The sight of your nipples straining against the material made his mouth water and cock hard.

"Little brat...."

The sound of his growl startles you. "Seki..." you whisper, starting to close the open gap of the kimono, but Sekido was fast. Faster than what your eyes comprehend as he already wrestled you onto his lap – his hands cupping your breasts.

"Look at you, nasty bitch. You know what wearing my clothes does to me." One hand leaves your breasts to grab the fat of your hip, bringing you to a slow grind over his lap. "Feel what the fuck you do to me. Feel exactly what I'm going to fuck you so stupid with." His cock twitches as your dampening core rocks against the swelling length.

Your hands move to grab his shoulders as you loll your head back to the rhythm of his grinding, but Sekido had other plans. Taking the obi from the kimono he was wearing as he took your wrists. At your gasp, he uses the sash to tie your hands up in a tight knot behind your back, the position, making your breasts jut out from the fabric of the kimono you stole.

Carmine eyes lock with yours as a dark look enters their depths. “Naughty sluts like you don’t get to touch me.” His voice was deep — rumbling in his chest. The rough pad of his thumb brushes over the hardened peaks of your nipple as the other hand grips your hip tightly to rock your throbbing pussy over his achingly hard cock.

“ kido...” You whimper out, back arching further into his touch and rubbing your dampening cunt of the hard length, trying to gain some type of friction to your burning clit. A scream bubbles up in your throat when his fangs graze the tip of your nipple, “Ah~, Sek-Sekido.” You cry out, your fingers flexing with the need to claw at him, to bring him closer, to touch him.

Sekido swipes his tongue over your nipple, tasting the salt that coats your skin from the sweat that forms. He had half the mind to just leave you all tied up and needy for his dick as punishment for daring to steal his clothes, but the way you were grinding your hips, rubbing your needy pussy over his length made him rethink that decision. “Tell me, little slayer,” his voice rumbles in your ear as he calls to you, “Do you think you deserve my cock, my knot? Have you earned that right?”

You struggle to answer as his claws dig into the fat of your hips and drag your drooling panty clad cunt over the swell of his cock in a hard grind, the friction causing your mind to go blank. It was only when his fangs bury into the junction of your neck and shoulder, warm blood spilling down your chest did you open your mouth. “Please! I don’t deserve it, but I need it.” You buck your hips, your damp panty clad clit catching the tip of his cock and sends a jolt of pleasure down your spine.

A dark chuckle leaves him as Sekido watches you with darkening red eyes. His hand tightens on your hips as he makes you rock faster, grinding harder against his cock as he bucks his hips into yours. “You’re right. You don’t deserve it. So you’re going to cum without me even touching this slutty cunt of yours.” His lips turn up in a mocking sneer as your honeyed cries reach his ears as your feeble attempts to get him to stop fails.

Digging your nails into the material of the sash tied around your wrists, tears burn in the corners of your eyes as Sekido continues to rock you over the hard muscles of his thigh, pussy clenching around air as your mouth falls open in a silent scream. You want to weep, beg and sob for his fingers – his cock. Something to fill the burning ache that settles in your core. But you know better, Sekido trains you well. He gave you an order to cum untouched and that was what you were going to do. No matter how much you plead with the demon of rage.

Sekido groans as he feels your slick drenching his thigh, his cock twitching to life and causing a tent under his own robe. A growl vibrates in his chest as he stares up at you, biting back the love sick smirk that wants to curl at his lips. He would never let you see exactly how much you affect him – how much you manage to worm your way into his anger-induced heart. “Cum, whore. And maybe I'll be nice and let you sit on my cock.” He moves on hand from your hip to the apex of your thighs, thumb circling your clit in rough hard circles that makes your head fall back and a scream bellows from your chest.

Your pussy spasms from the stimulation, cum dripping out of you as your hips continue to rock over Sekido’s lap and grind your slick over him. “‘Kido...I-” your words are cut off as he spins you around so that your back is facing him, claws shredding the thin material of your panties. You watch with bated breath as Sekido bunches the fabric of his kimono up under your breasts as he frees his dick from the confines of his restrictive clothing.

Biting down on your lip, a low hiss leaves you as Sekido lines his thick mushroomed head at your drippy little hole, swiping it over your clit and tapping it on your entrance. His voice rumbles in your ear before his fangs graze over the fleshy shell. “You dirty slut. Cumming untouched and making such a filthy mess. Looks like I need to plug up this nasty pussy. Don't expect me to be gentle either.”

You didn't want it anyway else as the demon of rage pulls you down onto his heavy dick, bottoming out in one single thrust as his claws dig into your bound wrists. Another scream is torn from you, but it was cut short when your lover wraps his hand around the back of your neck, long fingers pressing firmly on your arteries while his thumb rests on your vocal cords.

“Shut the fuck up.” His voice rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your back as he speaks. Sekido thrusts roughly up into you, heavy balls clapping on the skin of your ass as he fucks you hard and deep. “You don't get to say a word.” He applies just a bit more pressure to your neck, his other hand digging into the fat of your hip. An idea forms in his mind as a slow smirk tilts at his lips. “Hn.” He lets out a small chuckle, his thrusts slowing until he stops completely.

Sekido growls when a whine escapes you and the flat of his fingers smac loudly against the mound of your cunt. “Stop whining like a cock hungry whore. If you want my cock so badly, do it yourself. Fuck yourself and make yourself cum.”

You gasp at his words. Sekido has never let you have control like this before and honestly you didn’t know if you wanted it. You want him to drill up into you until you’re a sobbing, cumming mess. “Seki—” You words are cut off when the hand that he has wrapped around the back of your neck tightens just enough to make your head swim from the lack of oxygen-rich blood to your brain.

“Are you fucking deaf, slayer? Or are you too cockdrunk already?” He growls, slapping and pinching your sensitive nub repeatedly. Over and over again until you were damn near screaming and shaking from the intensity of the orgasm that washes over you. “Now, fucking bounce on my cock. That’s the last time I’m giving you an orgasm. The next one is on your own or I’ll fucking edge you all night long.”

A soft whimper leaves you at Sekido’s promise — he never makes empty threats. With your hands still tied behind your back, you use your legs to lift your body, pussy squelching as his cock drags slowly through your folds. You start off slow, the muscles in your thighs burning and screaming from the overusage, but you don't stop as you rise and sink on his thick cock. The bulbous tip pressing against that sweet spot that only he could reach. You bite your lip, so hard that you nearly break the delicate flesh and spill blood.

You toss your head back, mouth dropping open as you take in more of his length. Your eyes begin to water as you feel the slow swelling forming at the base of Sekido’s cock. His knot. There was no way you would be able to sink down far enough without his help. “Pul-please, daddy...” You whisper softly, hoping the name would shake your demon lover.

And it did. Sekido’s eyes snap open, glowing lustfully as a growl falls from his lips. “Desperate slut. Calling me that, knowing the effect it has.” He sits up, his wide chest against your back as his arm hooks under your thigh. Lifting his hips, he fucks into you with brutal, punishin thrusts, grunting as he slowly forces his knot deep inside your tight little hole. “Ha~ Nasty bitch. Needed her fucking daddy’s help to plug up this cunt with his seed?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer as his fangs bury themselve into your shoulder, blood swelling up in the punctures. Sekido’s greedy tongue laps at the spilling crimson as he knocks into the swollen spony spot, his knot swelling to its fullness inside you and plugging up your hole. “Cum, you greedy slut. Cum for me so I can fill ths unworthy pussy with my seed.” He gives you harsher, deeper strokes — fucking his knot in deeper as his hand circles around your waist to nestle between your slick thighs to rub hard, tight circles on your swollen clit.

“Fuck! Daddy ‘Kido...” You whine out as your body convulses, your pussy tightening around his cock and fluttering as you cum hard. Squirt gushes from you and soaks his balls in your essence. You could feel the way his cock pulses inside you, throbbing and swelling even further as Sekido nears his high.

A grunt is all he utters as he locks his hips, pulling you down as far as he could onto his cock until the swollen tip was pressed so snuggly against your cervix. Sekido’s dick twitches as his cum spills over, hot and thick, flooding your womb and painting it white. His knot holds steady as you slump back against his chest, completely spent and he could not help the small chuckle that vibrates in his chest. “Idiot. Wear my clothes again and I’ll fuck you twice as hard.” He wraps his arms around you, his knot still holding tight as he rolls onto his side. Gliding his palms over your curves in what he thinks is a soothing manner as he laps at the nasty bleeding bite mark, he says. “Sleep, slayer. You’ll need your strength because if you’re still wearing my kimono when I awake, I’m fucking you all over again.”

©️2022-24 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.

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forever--darling · 3 months

Text

senator amidala

summary: while obi-wan lectures anakin over & over it seems, you find yourself unable to do anything but look more into your vision, & the story behind the stars. just when you feel as if you are getting some answers, forces shift at the addition of a new mission as well as someone from anakin's past.

pairings: anakin skywalker x jedi!reader

word count: 8.1k

warnings/notes: mention of war, of death, mention of clone wars, mention of reader's past life, swearing, soulmate au, teasingaotc!anakin, anakin skywalker x padmé amidala, angst, jealousy, the beginning of a long unforeseen slow burn

series masterlist | 04

“Are you going to say anything or just sit there looking at me like that?” Anakin asked, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall of the training room, unable to look away from the glowered look that had overtaken his Master’s face. “Master?”

Obi-Wan sat in a rolling chair, his legs stiffly stuck to the floor and a certain knot forming between his eyebrows, that frown of his peeking through his beard. He didn’t even move or react when Anakin huffed out annoyingly, glancing towards the door and the closed blinds. Obi-Wan found him to be acting like a child then as he refused to have patience, refused to sit there in silence, but almost needed to in every way defy even the sole look that was being sent his way.

Anakin raised his hands in the air, irritated by the impending silence; it not going to make a difference one way or another when his Master finally decided to open his mouth and scold him. It would be just as scornful either way, and the young Chosen One didn’t have it in himself to do anything else but keep talking, “It’s not like—”

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan snapped lifting his pointer finger in the young Jedi’s direction, “Don’t you try and lie to me right now.”

“I’m not. Nothing happened, and nothing was going to happen.”

“Huh, so you��re just telling me you were laying on her for what?” Obi-Wan replied back, the sarcasm thick, so parent-like despite Anakin being an adult. “Of course, you don’t think of me as that stupid, Anakin.”

“I don’t, Master,” Anakin agreed, sighing slightly as he pushed off from the wall to approach his Master, “It’s just I did nothing to go against the code. I need you to know that, and I won’t.”

“How can I trust you?” Obi-Wan deflated, the statement alone causing Anakin to shift in fear, waning at the very thing he never thought he would hear, “I can’t look at the two of you together the same anymore. I’m aware you have a connection, one that is deemed stronger than I realized, but how can you assure me one hundred percent that it’s nothing more?”

“Nothing more…” Anakin’s words trailed off, the accusation something he hadn’t let cross his mind longer than it should. He couldn’t. He knew that. “It’s not. I can assure you.”

Obi-Wan leaned forward, his elbows finding a place along his knees, that frown lessening as he took in the wide-eyed expression on Anakin’s face. The younger Jedi’s brows rose then, the words once again slipping to provide as much comfort to his Master as he could, “She hasn’t been sleeping, Master. It’s been this way for a few months now. I can’t help but know when something is bothering her. Neither of us understands it, but I can’t ignore it. I wanted to show her the younglings’ training room, that is all. Something to get her mind off of everything.”

“The trials, included?” Obi-Wan asked, recalling his conversation with you that day prior after having seen you and Anakin together.

“The trials?” Anakin’s brows furrowed for a moment, “Right, yes, the trials. She talked to you about them.”

“Yes, and I don’t think it’s a good idea. She won’t be ready. It would be nearly impossible.”

“Right, I suppose that’s true.”

There was a lull, a sudden shift in conversation towards you, what had been keeping you up for months, for all this time, but did either of them really know? Anakin felt as if your connection was stronger, and he was able to indulge in your feelings no matter when and where he was, even going as far as to be able to hear some of your thoughts, the way they scavenged for peace. He felt as if a piece of you had been broken off and given to him, and yet he couldn’t help but feel like there was more going on in that pretty head of yours. As if there was more to the dark circles under your eyes and the steady glances you sent his way throughout the day.

There was more, and yet he couldn't in any way try and explain it to Obi-Wan. Especially when no one, even your Master, wouldn’t be able to understand these strange feelings that plagued the both of you. It was different from mere senses or being a Jedi. He couldn’t, not without it sounding wrong, not without proving his Master right.

“And what about me?” Anakin found himself unable to ask.

“What about you?”

“The trials,” he corrected, having not talked about it with his Master in almost half a year, “I feel as if I’m ready.”

“Oh, my young apprentice, there is still much to learn in the upcoming months. More than you realize,” Obi-Wan smiled comfortingly, suddenly charmed slightly by the young Jedi’s ambitions.

“You don’t think I am ready, Master?” Anakin found a knot forming in his chest, one from frustration, for the second time in a matter of minutes. Obi-Wan had already professed to not just trusting Anakin with you, but what about the trials? What about his respectability as a Jedi?

“It’s not that, my Padawan. It’s that you are still very unpredictable. You have far less experience than most Padawans do when they compete in the trials. I have no doubt you can get there but in due time. Where there is less experience, you must make up with wisdom and caution.”

Anakin was angry and disappointed but, at most, worried. Had he been too crass, too big of himself to assume he would be in the trials that year? He thought not. He thought he had proved himself time and time again to Obi-Wan, especially when it came to you. He had protected you, ensured your comfort, and became someone, anyone you could at least have. He had done what any Jedi should when caring for someone on a mission.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan mumbled out sadly after a few lingering seconds, his eyes cast over at the Chosen One at the position he was put in, “What shall you have me do about this? The two of you?”

He had reverted the conversation away from the trials and back to the situation at hand.

“I wasn’t aware anything had to be done, Master.”

“I don’t want to but I can’t help but fear the consequences in the future if I do nothing.”

“Trust me, Master. There is nothing going on between me and her. You have my word,” Anakin replied, his eyes refusing to blink or look away from Obi-Wan, afraid of what he would do. Afraid that somehow you would be separated, or things would change. “I’m only trying to protect her.”

Another lull between them, a second where Anakin couldn’t do anything else but wait, analyzing his Master’s expressions. It was then Obi-Wan nodded, shoulders relaxing back within his seat, unwilling to really do anything else but accept what he was being told. The force favored the two of you together, Obi-Wan could feel that. Felt it not long after you were brought to the temple. You both were strong, wise, and sometimes oblivious, but you were better when together than apart. You challenged Anakin, kept the Chosen One in line, and were a companion more than anything else. Obi-Wan had no inclination to truly do more than warn the young Jedi.

“Alright then,” Obi-Wan said, backing down under the intense blue haze that was Anakin’s eyes. But he stopped him as the Padawan turned to leave, “Anakin?”

“Yes, Master?”

“Go find Y/N and bring her here, please. I want her present when we meet with the Senator.”

“The Senator?” he asked, brows furrowing as he stood frozen near the door, seeming unaware of the meeting himself.

“Yes, Senator Amidala will be here later this afternoon to meet with us. I want her there, got it?”

Anakin’s eyes widened, mouth parting softly unable to even answer his Master’s question. He was suddenly stuck, unable to get much further than the name that was uttered so professionally. Anakin felt his pulse speed up, and his stomach clenched in nerves.

Senator Amidala.

He had never thought the day would finally come. After ten years, it finally had.

“Padmé? She will be here in the city?”

“Yes.”

“Why? What does she require of us?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Obi-Wan sighed, able to hear the breathiness in the young man’s voice, his attention shifted entirely to the one he had never seemed to forget, “I am not sure, my apprentice, but we shall see. Alright, so go on.”

“Are you an angel?”

“What?”

“An angel. I’ve heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They live on the moons of lego, I think. They’re the most beautiful creatures in the universe.”

The air was stiff, the smell of the old archives enough to have you biting down on your lower lip. The basement of the public archives building was dusty and cold, cold for the amount of worn leather that sat in between the shelves. The shelves decorated with everything that hadn’t been recoded into holograms or online files. Your robes were loose around your frame, and you found yourself pulling them tight around your chest as the attendant led you through the maze of shelves.

He stops in a far corner and goes down a hall between two shelves; it is so slim you wouldn’t be able to walk with two people side by side. Near the middle of the shelf, he pointed up towards the upper two halves, “This is all that we have. These two top shelves should have everything you’re looking for.”

You nodded, eyes already scraping over the aging binds, reading the heathered titles with ease, heart in your throat.

Stars of L’âme

They were what led you to be sitting in a small corner of the public archives, at a desk hidden behind a few towering shelves, the desktop covered with a small stack of books, some thicker and older than you realized. It had been almost an hour, an hour of you flipping through pages, all while the words from your grandmother echoed within your head.

“Two lost souls. That is something to remember most of all. This act is never random. This choice by the greater powers of our worlds. It is never a mere act of happening but by some sort of fate itself.”

“This sounds crazy,” you thought out loud as you read the descriptions of the particle examinations of the two stars as well as the whole ten pages that hypothesize how they were created outside of the stellar nurseries.

Flipping through another book next to it, you opened it to a random page to find a drawing peering back at you. One where it showed the stars as they were now, unaligned, one favoring the left and the other right. A second drawing mirrored the one next to it, but this one found the stars to almost be stacked upon one another, aligned to create two shining orbs. A small passage was found under the picture, and you realized as you read that this book took on a more mythical viewpoint of the stars.

One that sounded like a fable unable to fully be true and yet you found yourself leaning into every single word.

“The Stars of L’âme, having outlived centuries of people, have left the rest of us in mere darkness over the two stars regarding the possibilities and ideal scientific creations; more so how they only coalign every one hundred years. Whose its makers we can’t know, but one can be noted without reason or the ability to ignore — the physics and angling. As it is said and stated, only when the two souls it mirrors finally find one another, their hearts aligning is when the stars are found to finally shift. The previous separation of the stars follows the physical and emotional separation of the two souls prior to understanding the truth. Once both of the intended souls have passed onto the next life, the stars scatter again awaiting for their next love story within the following century.”

It sounded impossible, you couldn’t fathom the logistics as you chewed on your bottom lip, sure to leave it torn and bleeding. The rest of the world seemed to blur along the edges, the confines of reality shifting as you wished, almost pleading for your grandmother to appear — to deny this allegation altogether, to fully set all of your worries to rest. What about the stars did she want to tell you?

It all sounded like a fate that was sure to catch up with you.

Sighing, you pushed the book away, inhaling to ease the sudden anxiety that had formed, while you pulled another one from the stack. Skimming through the table of contents, you felt your fingers fumble over the names that were presented on the page. Immediately flipping to it, you found yourself on the edge of your seat, unable to ignore the picture printed within it of a couple, the last who claimed to have been the heirs of the Stars of L’âme. They seemed normal, full of admiration as they stared at one another.

Their birth years, you hummed in interest. It was exactly a hundred years before your own.

Your fingers traced over the young woman’s face, it seeming not much older than you were now. She was beautiful and, more than anything, beautifully in love. Peering down at the page, you took them in but felt your stomach fall slightly as you noticed it.

A set of matching scars along their forearms, just as long and thick, matching in every way from the pale coloring to the way it extended from their wrist to halfway across their forearms. Your brows raised in interest, beginning to read the passages that followed, throat tightened at the mere possibilities of what that could have meant.

You had only gotten halfway through the first page, which hadn’t revealed any new information or anything about the scars when you felt two hands take hold of your chair behind you. You jumped slightly at the feeling of their thumbs pressed along your shoulder blades and their looming form along your back.

“Hey.” The voice startled you, but you relaxed instantly at the familiarity paired with the softness of it.

Glancing up, you met those blue eyes of his, staring down at yours with piqued interest, that smirk of his forming as he took in how he had scared you. You must not have felt him approaching, both surprised by it and not knowing that when your mind was so occupied in anything else, you didn’t hear or feel anything that was close to you.

You smacked his hand slightly, heart rising and falling in surprise, “What are you doing?”

“Me?” he laughed, eyes flickering over the stacks of books spread along the desk, “What are you doing?”

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, you began to close the books around you, ignoring his question altogether, “Nothing I just—”

“Please, I could feel you deep in your thoughts from three miles away,” Anakin chuckled, leaning even more over your shoulder, his brows furrowing as he tried to catch sight of what you were reading about, his eyes finding the black and white picture of the couple staring back at him, “What has you thinking so fucking hard?”

“Anakin,” you warned, trying to close the book before he could take it but his hand smacked against the page of the book enough that it echoed in the small corner of the archives. His brows furrowed slightly down at you while his other hand firmly took a hold of your wrist to stop you from trying to take it.

“The Stars of L’âme,” he read outline, the foreign word a struggle upon his tongue, but he understood enough to peer back over you and your slumped frame, a sheepish look appearing across your face. “Y/N…”

Feeling his impending stare and the sudden speed of your pulse, you were ripping your hand out of his and taking the book from him. Closing it loudly, you shoved it to the other side of the desk with all the rest, some you hadn’t even gotten to yet.

“It’s nothing okay,” you urged but he could see right through you. It was the easiest thing.

“Right, nothing. It’s not like, it has you sneaking off here in the middle of the day. It’s about your vision, isn’t it?” he asked, leaning down further, his arm hanging off your shoulder, the small touch feeling like too much at that moment.

“We don’t know if it was vision,” you argued, but at the sudden curl of his lips, it was clear he didn’t believe it to be anything other than that.

“Well, you could have told me, you know. I could’ve helped,” he offered carefully, with no sarcasm or teasing tone in sight. It had your heart softening, your embarrassment fading enough that you were sure your resolve would follow.

You were scared, though. Scared of what you would find out. Scared that this strange connection with him had something to do with this. You were just scared, period.

“No, you couldn’t have,” you replied, the tone and your words stinging him slightly evident in the slight cringe that appeared on his face.

He ignored it. “Well, did you find anything?”

“No, not anything useful.”

Before he could say anything else, his eyes just searching yours, you found yourself picking at your nails, a sense of nervousness forming. “What are you doing here?”

“Obi-Wan sent me to find you,” he said, not missing a single beat.

You straightened up, “What?”

“It’s fine,” he noticed the panic right away, enough that his hand slipped to your shoulder with ease, his torso somehow pressed along your back enough that you relaxed, “We just have to get back. Senator Amidala will be arriving soon.”

“A Senator?”

Even as you said it, you couldn’t ignore the sudden pause that appeared as Anakin said her name. Like he had to prepare how to exactly say it. The corners of his lips quirked up slightly, and it caused your stomach to twist slightly, a sick feeling appearing at the implications of what that could mean. Not quite understanding it.

“Yeah, she has requested a meeting with us for some reason. Master just wants us back to prepare for her arrival.”

You wanted to ask more, deter from this task at hand, and put your attention back into the books, but you knew you couldn’t. Not then. Not with him there. Not when you both possibly had been assigned to something by the council. It was the only reason that came to mind that you were meeting with this Senator. It filled you with dread, a sudden uneasiness forming at the responsibility that could possibly linger.

There was nothing else to do though but nod and stand from the small desk. With one stack of books in your hands and the other in Anakin’s you returned them to the attendant, thanking him, before following Anakin out of the public archives. His eyes followed yours for a brief moment before he lead you further into the city towards the temple.

His attention drifted, you felt it first. In your chest, the way that string between you seemed to wane slightly while he stared forward, voice silent. A furrowed expression played along his features, one that had you mesmerized, able to feel the weight of his deep thoughts but without the implications of them. Still a few blocks from the temple, you couldn’t help but ask.

“What is it?”

Your voice, almost like a solace, pulled his eyes to you, a mere hum emitting from his pink lips.

“I can see your brain turning over there. Can practically feel it suffocating me as well, so what is it?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied, the same words you had said to him before in the pubic archives hitting you hard.

“Ani…”

“I’m just wondering why they require us, is all? What the council wants from us?” he explained, but you couldn’t believe him.

Not when a sudden thickness seemed to appear in your chest from the mere effect on him upon even mentioning the Senator’s name. A devastation that seemed to only weigh heavier on you the longer you sat in silence, it only being confirmed as you stood in the elevator of Senator Amidala’s building, leading you, Anakin, and Master Kenobi up to her penthouse.

Her name was one you had heard of; it was hard not to when you previously had a life involved within government, often needing to interact with the Senate, yet you couldn’t place her face with the name. You hadn’t met, that you were sure of, and yet the sudden thought of doing so left you afraid. Afraid as silence loomed with Anakin’s foot tapping unsteadily and his breath uneasy.

You turned to look at him as he began to brush his hands along his robes, smoothing out any wrinkles. Obi-Wan noticed it, too, and met your stare with a certain smile you couldn’t place. As if he knew something you didn’t or rather found amusement from the Padawan’s actions.

“You seem a little on edge,” Obi-Wan said then, gaining Anakin’s nervous attention.

“Not at all,” Anakin denied, his eyes somehow flickering to yours, able to feel you staring at him.

“I haven’t felt you this tense since we fell into that nest of Gundarks.”

“You fell into that nightmare, Master, and I rescued you, remember?” He was smug about it, but only slightly.

“Oh, yes.”

You found yourself subtly bumping your arm with Anakin's, while Master didn’t react as you imagined he would. Instead, a deep-setted laugh appeared one that caused Anakin to start laughing as well, even as his blue eyes flickered over to your form, still leaning close to him.

Shaking his head at his Master, Obi-Wan set his sights back on the Padawan, barely even acknowledging your close presence. “You’re sweating. Relax. Take a deep breath.”

Obi-Wan watched the subtle interaction that occurred then. The way your face furrowed in confusion, almost a slight worry pulling your lips into a fine line, and a hesitancy on Anakin’s part. His head tilted slightly in your direction, and you found his blue orbs looking at you from the corner of his eye before replying.

“I haven’t seen her in ten years, Master,” he admitted, exhaling slowly, his nerves so palpable then.

A small smile appeared on Obi-Wan’s face, and you couldn’t come to understand it, the slight amusement that appeared over Anakin’s nervousness. You couldn’t, not as your own reaction was barely hideable. You turned to face the elevator doors in front of you, feeling suddenly inclined to take a step away from Anakin, enough that your arm was no longer brushing his.

A thought that you couldn’t ignore even when the three of you stepped off the elevator to greet a Junior Representative who went by Jar Jar. The tall lanky creature bypassed your attention rather quickly as you couldn’t help but keep sending glances over to Anakin.

Worst of all, you didn’t even know why you cared so much. What about this Senator could have you so uncomfortable? Threatened over what? Your time with Anakin.

What good would it do anymore?

Surely Master Obi-Wan would do something to come between the two of you to ensure his spot on the council stays and, in his mind, keep the two of you from violating the code.

Your feet dragged slightly across the floor, even as Jar Jar led you away from the elevator into another room of the penthouse, revealing a few figures standing off by the windows. You inhaled slowly to find one of them turn, and a smile appeared across her face. She had to have been the Senator, and it brought a certain nervous twitch in your fingers.

She was young. Young and beautiful and elegant. Everything that a representative was supposed to be. Everything that a queen was supposed to be; in her long dress, decorated in glitter and the finest materials with her hair pulled back out of her face, drawing attention to her soft features. Hiding slightly behind Anakin, body turned away from him, you watched as Obi-Wan bowed to greet her. “Pleasure to see you again, my lady.”

“It’s been far too long, Master Kenobi,” she greeted back, her voice mature, sounding professional, and as if it was going to hold Anakin’s attention forever. It seemed he had gotten hers, too, as she looked over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, a curious smile forming at the sight before her, “Ani?”

The mere shortened version of his name curling from her tongue so effortlessly brought another wave of shock through you, one that stung far worse than you realized. Even as it sounded so casual, so perfect, that he had to step forward a shy smile of his own forming unable to keep his eyes from taking her in.

“My goodness you’ve grown.”

“So have you. Grown more beautiful, I mean,” he admitted, it slipping enough to have everyone’s eyes on him, “Well, for a Senator, I mean.”

He chuckled awkwardly, trying to rid the surprised look of awe that appeared on his face. She smiled back one bashful as they both noted the way Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder to you in slight understanding. One you hadn’t known for sure until then. That, in fact, this Senator, Senator Amidala, knew Anakin, and he very much knew her.

“Huh Ani, you’ll always be that little boy I knew in Tatooine.”

His expression faltered; you saw it in the way his shoulders dropped, his smile faltering at her subtly shutting down his advances. Quickly, a mere blip as she then noticed you, too, lingering back behind the taller man, fingers folded together. She looked at the robes, the tight-fitting navy ones that appeared somehow pretty on you, and the way your hair was pulled tightly out of your face, revealing a complexion that seemed so clear.

Her dark brow arched in curiosity, finding you already looking at her, “I’m afraid we haven’t ever met.”

Sighing, you stepped forward, already able to feel both expectant looks from the two of me in front of you. Obi-Wan, taking hold of your forearm, gently brought you closer, enough that you were standing in between him and Anakin, suddenly feeling trapped and under the watchful gaze of the Senator.

Her eyes glanced from Anakin to you, the way his attention suddenly seemed to be on your profile, trying to take in everything about your expression.

“This is my second Padawan—”

“Second?” Padmé chuckled in surprise, “You have two now? I wasn’t sure if that was even allowed.”

“There are exceptions. The Council granted me this one ask.”

Her smile widened then, eyes never leaving yours as she spoke, “Lucky Ani. I’m sure the extra challenge benefits him.”

It was then she stepped closer, offering an outstretched hand to you. With a second of hesitation, you met her advance, slipping your own hand in hers for her to shake.

“Senator Padmé Amidala.”

You nodded, “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

At the sound of your name, it seeming so long since it was even pronounced out loud together, her hand stopped, the shaking ceasing while a curious look now filling her eyes, one of recognition slightly. “Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“Hm, that’s a familiar name, one I feel is common. Have we, by chance, met before?” she observed, eyes glancing to the two men on the other side of you. Anakin’s hands tightened, a furrow appearing between his brows as he looked between her and you. His jaw ticked as he met the Senator’s gaze.

It was then, the Padawan stepped forward, blocking you slightly from her and her questions. His body broke your hand from hers, and you couldn’t help but questionably share a look with your Master as Anakin interrupted, “We should sit down, my lady. Talk about why we’re really here.”

You looked expectantly from Anakin over to Obi-Wan to find another wave of confusion pass over his features. But no one dared to say anything against the Chosen One and entered the living room. Sitting across from the Senator, you somehow once again were sat between the two men. They both leaned in, attention put fully on Padmé, and though you should have been doing the same, a discomfort had formed in your chest. So much so that your mind seemed to drift elsewhere, to the Padawan sat next to you more so.

Why had he not told you he had known Senator Amidala? What could have been within their past that he hadn’t or wished not to? There was something he wasn’t telling you clearly by the way Obi-Wan had been alluding to his nerves in the elevator. Even when you had asked him earlier, before arriving, what had been on his mind, he had brushed you off. Something he hadn’t done in months, not since before you two had come to terms with what it meant being Padawans alongside one another. Even as you could feel the gentleness of his pulse quickening while his eyes doted on her, he still tried to hide it from you.

“I don’t need more security. I need answers. I want to know who is trying to kill me.”

“We’re here to protect you, Senator,” Obi-Wan assured, “Not to start an investigation.”

You found yourself lulling away, not able to pay attention until Anakin spoke up from beside you with such a conviction that it had you staring at him, jaw tense. “We will find out who is trying to kill you, Padmé. I promise you.”

You felt Obi-Wan peering past you at Anakin, taken aback himself but the sudden response that was pulled so freely from the young man without even a simple thought. “We will not exceed our mandate, my young Padawan learner.”

Anakin ignored the looks the both of you were giving him, instead finding much of his focus back on the beautiful Senator, “I meant it in the interest of protecting her, Master. Of course.”

“We will not go through this exercise again, Anakin,” Obi-Wan scolded; it was enough to have both you and the Senator following the small squealing match between the two men, “And you will pay attention to my lead.”

“Why? Why else do you think we were assigned to her if not to find the killer. Protection is a job for local security, not Jedi. It’s overkill, Master. Investigation is implied in our mandate,” he challenged, and you couldn’t stop yourself then but to reach over and pinch his arm through his robes. He stiffened under your sudden touch, a frown appearing across his lips as he hissed, “Ow. What?”

You sent him a warning look, brows furrowed slightly as you sensed the frustrations and slight embarrassment at the reality of Anakin defying Obi-Wan in front of others, especially Senator Amidala. He was trying to be prideful, show off his wisdom and bravery in turn to holding her attention.

“We will do exactly as the council has instructed,” Obi-Wan stated.

Anakin looked away from you at the sight of your soft glare to find the eyes of your Master. Silence filled the room then, a waiting game of who would back down first.

“And you will learn your place young one.”

There was another pause, a moment where Anakin’s lip folded into itself into a small pout, his head bowing slightly under the intense gaze of Obi-Wan. Your Master took a second to exhale, letting the frustrations fade as he turned back to face the Senator, her eyes still glancing between the two men.

“Perhaps with merely your presence, the mystery surrounding this threat will be revealed,” she said, breaking the tensions slightly, but you found yourself stiffening at the sight of her soft gaze meeting Anakin’s sunken form. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will retire.”

The Senator stood with her Representatives following, as well as Obi-Wan, who bowed in a sign of respect. You felt frozen, though, feet glued to the ground even as Anakin had stood too. You felt your Master’s eyes on you then, a gentle glare settling along the side of your face, but you could only stare forward, up at the Senator, stomach clenched, a dread looming over your head. One that had begun as soon as Anakin had even said her name in the public archives. Senator Amidala.

Knowing how disrespectful you were being, you stood, hands folded gently behind your back. She took you in once more, a curious glint forming, and before you had even realized, she was smiling softly, “Actually, before I do. Y/N, is it? May I speak with you for a minute? I believe I owe you the honor of becoming more acquainted.”

The air had been sucked from your lungs. That’s what you believed as you stood with your mouth becoming dryer by the second as all eyes in the room found you, your frame taller than the Senator and yet seeming suddenly afraid. It wasn’t that you were afraid of her, or her status. You were supposed to be the next queen of Bakura, there was no one who could intimidate you by their power alone. No, the truth was you were afraid of her because of Anakin, because of how he had blatantly felt about her, always had it seemed.

Obi-Wan was staring at you expectantly, and you knew that you couldn’t deny the Senator of this request, especially considering you were as much her protector as the rest of them. But you were hesitant, it only deepening as you felt a warm palm suddenly pressed along your lower back. Even though your thick robes, the touch was so much, almost making your skin vibrate at its sudden appearance.

Glancing up at Anakin, his towering frame too became way too much, his blue eyes set on yours suddenly, almost like it had been the first time since you both had entered the room with the Senator. He was hesitant to let you go, something you didn’t understand then because how could you?

Offering him a gentle nod, you smiled towards the Senator, who had silently been watching the interaction, curious, it seemed, by the intentions behind Anakin’s lingering touch. You wouldn’t grant her any more time to think about it as you gestured towards the door for her to lead the way. She seemed pleased, and as you followed her out of the sitting room, you could feel the Chosen One’s intense gaze stained across your back the whole entire walk out of the room.

“He’s protective,” she said then, as soon as you had rounded the corner into a nearby hall, away from everyone else.

Her observation had you almost tripping over your feet, as well as over the possibility that she had only asked to speak to you to talk about Anakin. It made your blood settle, an inkling of nerves appearing in your chest of how this all would go.

Something in you told you, it would all fall apart. Maybe not now, or tomorrow, but eventually and you would be the one left crumbled away in the dust.

You tried to smile, but you found it more so resembled a cringe, “Yes, he is. Though at times he doesn’t need to be.”

She hummed then as if it was something she could relate to and understand completely. “He only means well. Has been told his whole life of those he must protect, of his responsibilities presented from the prophecy.”

“Yes, but I must say it can be too much. It feels as if he is undermining me in front of you Senator, but I guess he can’t quite help it.”

Her dark brow arched then, interest piquing as your admission slipped. Noticing the way she waited, waited for you to explain, you felt your face fall, cheeks heating up at what you had done. It was something you knew Anakin wished people didn’t know about. Who you were before you arrived at the temple and became a Padawan in training. He worried about what could happen if people knew, knew that the princess of Bakura was alive. Yet, you couldn’t help but reveal it all to her, the woman who held his attention so easily just from her presence alone. She wouldn’t ever have to speak, and you knew Anakin wouldn’t care — just to stare at her all day would be a privilege in his eyes.

“Y/L/N,” she said it as almost a mere whisper, as if she was trying to place it, the familiarity, the essence behind the name. A name that once filled you with so much power. “I know it from somewhere. I know I do. I suppose there is a reason, isn’t there? Why did Anakin stop me from asking before? Why he is so protective?”

“Senator, you have to understand, I wasn’t always a Jedi. I only became Master Kenobi’s Padawan some time ago,” you exhaled then, knowing there was no way around it, not if she would be there everyday intervening in every interaction, in every sole moment you once had with him to yourself, “My father sent Obi-Wan and Anakin to me under dire circumstances.”

“Y/L/N,” she repeated it slowly, almost afraid to say it out loud, but as she heard it, the sound of it coming from her own tongue, her eyes widened in realization. “Your father, Y/F/N Y/L/N, the king of Bakura.”

“You understand then? Why. He is protective, Senator, but merely out of obligation." You, unable to stop yourself from letting the truth spill over and over, said it so casually as if to put more distance between you and Anakin, an explanation for his affection.

“I can see why you would see it that way, but you have to know for Ani, it is never out of obligation,” she explained softly, her expression unreadable as she spoke of him, “Though it’s been years since we parted, I know that he doesn’t take the weight of it on thoughtlessly. He is very passionate; he doesn’t act unless it is in accordance with his heart. And for what it’s worth, I offer my deepest condolences, your highness.”

You sighed, only able to offer a sad smile, chest clenching at the title, one you only heard now when Anakin wished to tease you, sure to bring a smile to your face. It sounded so wrong then coming from her, far too formal for a person you only shared a resemblance to. You weren’t her anymore, the princess, the future queen. You felt as if it was a life you hadn’t even lived.

“A princess turned Jedi,” she chuckled, somehow it never once sounded cruel. It couldn’t, you knew that, even with Anakin swooning over the sight of her, the sudden twang that appeared within your chest, nothing she ever did could be done out of cruelty. “That’s a very powerful thing. I can tell by the way you’re looking at me, you haven’t accepted that yet.”

You couldn’t accept anything she was saying to you, your mind drifting rather to the loud feelings one room away, the way they were hurt like a puppy that had just been kicked — somehow losing all respectability because of one woman.

“Well, I will leave you,” she offered then, noting the frown across your face, “I shall retire for the night, but just know, I am glad Master Kenobi and Ani were able to promise your protection as well as they will mine.”

With one last smile, one just as radiant as all the rest, you watched her retreat further into the hall towards the elevator. As soon as her presence was gone, you exhaled, no relief felt at the sudden challenge that this mission had brought. It seemed it all would be different then, even down to the pull you felt in your chest when it came to Anakin Skywalker.

Perhaps Obi-Wan had been right.

Perhaps the stars were right, too, about something you couldn’t quite explain for any other reason.

Yet you knew it couldn’t be, not even if you were to outlive the pain that surely would succumb to you if it were true.

Evident enough, as you stepped back into the room, Obi-Wan’s frame retreated with one of the Senator’s security and Anakin still where you had left him, in the middle of the room, that worried expression still present on his face. You approached slowly, his back turned to you, leaving nothing but the small ponytail and the swallowing robes to be remembered in your mind for that moment. An urgency was evident in his frame, something you could feel and sense even before you had heard his voice, even before you had heard what he said.

The very thing you hadn’t expected or wished to ever hear again.

“I’ve thought about her every day since we’ve parted, and she’s forgotten me completely.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. You felt confined to that one spot, even as the bustle continued around you. As people filtered in and out of the room, you couldn’t fucking move. You thought you would’ve been fine. Come nightfall, come the time when the lights within the large penthouse were dimmed, nothing but a few lamps allowing the city to really glow and the stars to be vibrant. Yet as you sat there, knees hugged closely to your chest, it still felt different, suddenly everything did. In a matter of one day, the mere act of staring up at the sky could no longer provide comfort. Especially as a certain dullness seemed to ignite within your chest that hadn’t been there before.

“Master has gone to check the perimeter. The corridors are clear, too. How are things up here?”

His voice was too much for you, somehow pulling you from the depths of your mind. You didn’t look away from the window. You wouldn’t, not even as his footsteps echoed along the floor, his frame so close then and towering over you. He was warm and always had been far too inviting for you. It was annoying.

“Hey,” he spoke again, but you found yourself still unwilling to turn to speak, to give in. He huffed then in frustration, your silence something he never liked to hear. “Y/N?”

You couldn’t take it, not if it were true. It had been one hundred years since the stars had last aligned, chosen a couple to use, to live through. Anakin was too much, too enticing, too beautiful, too powerful. He had control over you, the way you felt, what you thought about. It was dangerous.

“It’s fine for you to do this in the temple. Ignore me, but here? We’re on a mission, on orders by the council itself. To ensure Padmé’s protection, you can’t do this. Not here,” he scolded, his tone suddenly hardening.

It seemed he had become short with you enough that you hadn’t even noticed the gentle flick of his wrist, but you felt it as soon as it happened. The unseen force of your face being turned towards him, harsher than you thought it would be. Forced to look at him, you glared, hating the way he used the force on you. His blue eyes stared down at you, tracing the etchings of your expression, the way it was anything but soft. His hand hung at his side, fingers outstretched, but they relaxed upon realizing how you felt, able to match it with the sudden pull in his chest.

“She is fine,” you finally said, the words cold upon your tongue.

His jaw tensed, “You’re upset with me.”

“I’m not,” you rebutted, “I just wish you wouldn’t handle me like that.”

“What do you mean?” He said, jaw loosening slightly to let a smile appear; it was small, almost appearing like a smirk. His annoyance faded to be replaced by something else, and you couldn’t deny that his playfulness only made you angrier.

“Stop it. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he chuckled amusingly.

You stood then, feeling the confines start to bend, melting at the will that was his pretty eyes and bashful smile. Your frustrations were no match for Anakin Skywalker, especially when he looked at you like that.

“I’m supposed to be mad at you,” you professed, reaching out to shove him back lightly, but his hands took hold of both your wrists, stopping the movement short. Suddenly, you felt trapped; the warmth of his fingertips on your skin was the only thing you could focus on.

“Why?” he asked, a single brow raising with interest, “What did I do?”

You shoved it all down then; the need to lean into his touch, to relax under his gaze, all of it, though it seemed the stars were in favor of such an action. Unless was this how it had always felt for everyone? This act of feeling completely under someone else’s control, as if the weight of the heart could defy any other human emotion.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew Senator Amidala?” You ripped your hands free from his.

“Really?” he asked, almost surprised that out of everything, it could be that, “That’s what you're upset about? That I hadn’t told you about Padmé?”

“Yes, you acted as if she were just any other Senator. That this mission isn’t any different.”

“It’s not,” he replied, quicker than you thought he would.

“Anakin, don’t do that. Don’t lie,” you sighed, shoulders deflating, all of your confidence leaving you, as well as the warmth that seemed to once appear in your chest at being able to sense what he felt, “You are quite fond of her.”

That teasing on his end was gone then, his expression rigid, breath uneven under your eyes. He glanced around the room quickly, frustration forming again, one that appeared so much like it had earlier when he was arguing with Obi-Wan. Except this time, it was being directed towards you. “And so what if I am? What, you’re going to go and tell Master about this?”

You shook your head, trying to hold it all together, trying to be so strong to block him out at that moment, to keep him from being able to feel just how much it had hurt you. You couldn’t even lie to yourself about it; it had pained you to hear the simple admission. “I don’t have to tell him anything, Anakin. It is quite obvious how you feel.”

“Which is what?” he demanded from you, voice low but cold, “You and I both know the truth that is our fate. Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden, so even if I did feel whatever it is that I do, nothing could ever happen.”

That furrow in his brow had reappeared as he scowled down at you. Suddenly, so much anger was apparent. You could feel it — in the way goosebumps arose on your skin, and your pulse seemed to match his. The way it had sped up. The vein in the side of his neck was erect as he glared once again, no longer just angry about the Senator’s wishes to not engage in his advances but the rules that had confined his life.

“But then there’s compassion,” you whispered, the words almost coming out as a mumble.

His face twitched at your words, almost as if it could soothe and fix everything. The anger melted away, and you were met with the innocence that still filled his blue eyes. “Compassion?”

“It’s essential to a Jedi’s life. Compassion, which could be defined as unconditional love. In some ways, some might say, we are encouraged to love.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #Star Wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #anakin series #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #divider by cafekitsune #banner by cafekitsune

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padawansuggest · 3 months

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You know you into yarn when you have headcanons about what spindles characters would particularly like, what they prefer to do with the yarn, what type of wheel spinner they are, and who has 17 projects going on at once (Anakin) vs who’s gonna focus almost entirely on one project as they go through thought spindle spinning a fine yarn, plying and washing enough of it for a blanket, immediately sticking it on the loom, and weaving a particularly intricate pattern (Obi-Wan) vs who’s the ‘I add the knots of silk and locks so that I can live in the moment and let chunks come out when they need to’ (as if I even have to say it, it’s Qui-Gon)-

ANYWAYS. I actually love yarn and think that yarn craft should be more in fics but that’s sorta like how lots of chefs and bakers make a lot of foodie fics like it’s nice but. Everyone eats. Not enough people care about Scottish spindles. Obi-Wan has 7 Scottish spindles and like 8 Turkish ones so he can make a blanket’s worth of yarn in a single go without having to unwind them and ply right away. Qui-Gon likes supported spindles and a traditional wheel. Anakin designs and makes his own electric spinners, electric yarn counters, and electric cone winders. And then he knits Padme shawls. Qui-Gon crochets blankets and keeps leaving them in the creche or outside random apartments in the temple. Obi-Wan weaves. Anakin spent 5 hours learning how to dye fiber in Padme’s favorite colours, made an electric wool carder to make batts of them, spent a solid 15 hours spinning enough for a massive shawl in lace weight yarn for his wife, knit her one, and then went back to his ADHD project hopping.

I have ideas!!!!!!

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #qui gon jinn #yes I have ideas for others but these ones come to me fast #Obi also has drop spindles and he carves his own tools if he suddenly needs one lol #but his fave are Scottish spindles and turks #Qui gon refuses to make yarn that is evenly uniform that’s just bullshit to him #Anakin made an ombré lace shawl in the exactl colour scheme of Padme’s dress on Naboo on the balcony #she’s so obsessed with it she adores it #Qui gon crochets with hooks that don’t have a size because he carved them out of a wonky twig and it’s served him for the past 15 years #Qui is the tweed master if he needs to make it the same SIZE but it’s gonna be full of pops of silk and chunks #spinning yarn #yarn spinning #yarn headcanons

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skywlker-sluvtt · 1 year

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Anakin eating out fem!reader after an argument with Obi-Wan 🤭🥲

bro omg i need to be put down for writing this tbh

also it's almost midnight and this wasn't proofread but enjoy hehehehe

Anger quickly approached in the force. The door slammed shut and it was Anakins emotion you could feel. He dragged the dark feeling through your apartment into the room you sat in. “Ani? Are you alright?” You asked immediately stood from the bed and he looked pissed off. His brows were furrowed and his fists clenched as he paced your room. “No, I’m not fucking okay! Obi-Wan is the most incompetent asshole in THE GALAXY!” He shouted. “Woah Anakin” You chuckled at his anger giving his bicep a firm squeeze. “I’m sick of it Y/N! He treats me like a padawan no not even a padawan a youngling! Thinking I can’t handle Dooku on my own. I could- I could I-” He trailed off looking at you, in only your silk nightgown.

Being a Jedi you didn’t need to wear something like that to bed, but it made you feel pretty and Anakin certainly enjoyed the short silky robe. He liked how easy it was to untie the loose knot using the force and fucking ravage you in it. That’s certainly what he wanted to do now. “Take it off” He sighed. “Calm down Ani” You whispered before his rough hands were holding your cheeks. “I need you, need that cunt right now beautiful,” He said lowly. Unhooking the soft gown you let it drop to the ground. Leaving you bare in front of him you wrapped your arms around his neck invitingly kissing him hard.

Anakin significantly relaxed taking a long deep breath and clutching your hips. “Lie down on your stomach” He whispered working off his robes. “Yes sir” You mumbled making him smirk. You settled in the middle of the bed for him resting your chest on a pillow and glancing back. “Ani” You whisper before his hands began groping your plush cheeks. “Holy Maker baby this ass is incredible” He smirked kneading your ass for his own fun. Anakin removed his glove and rubbed his mechanical hand across your back before spreading your cheeks. “Such a pretty slutty hole” Anakin continued spitting right on your ass.

A small moan left your lips before Anakin had his mouth on you. With a playful bite to your ass cheek, he began devouring your holes holding your hips tight while you squirmed. “Stay still you little whore” He growled adjusting his position behind you. Firmly smacking your ass he growled animalistically into your ass. You whined as he pushed his tongue into your pussy hungry for every drop of you on his tongue. Desperately you lifted your hips for him, back arching as he slurped on your pussy. “Fuck Ani” You whimpered fisting the sheets. His slick tongue lapped from your clit to your ass with a sloppy rhythm.

You felt the way he channelled his anger into this. Bites were placed on your ass every once in a while or firm grabs as he sucked you best he could. “Fuck me please, please” You begged. “Not now” He mumbled pausing his licking to lay on his back, wiggling between your thighs to have you sit on him. Eagerly you sat on his mouth and he grinned quickly fiddling with his metal arm to set it to vibrate. Something he’d installed a while ago, especially for you.

As he pressed his cold, vibrating fingers up against your pussy you yelped now sobbing with pleasure. “Wanna cum Ani” You sobbed and he dipped his fingers right into your dripping hole causing your thighs to tremble with passion. You squeezed his head snugly between your thighs as he continued licking with the biggest smirk on his face. You happily kept grinding up and down on his face. Anakin’s nose continued to hit your clit eliciting whines from your throat. With a strangled call of his name, you collapsed onto the bed shaking with pleasure. He withdrew his fingers from your swollen pussy and you lazily threw yourself off his face.

The two of you laid back panting with exhaustion. You slowly sat up running a hand down his stomach toward his cock. He grabbed your wrist and chuckled. “I’m done” He sighed before you noticed the sticky white mess he made on himself. With a little giggle, you fell back onto the bed. Anakin’s blood pressure had significantly dropped, he no longer felt anger in his gut. You sat up attempting to wipe your slick off his face and he shook his head. “No it’s yummy” He grinned, his glistening lips made you smile before you kissed him. “Let's sleep” You suggested. “Please” He nodded.

#HEHHEHEHEHEHEH #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker smut #ani wani #thanks for the ask bby #anakin x you #star wars fic

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overtaken-stream · 2 months

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Where On3 Will St4nd

King The Wildfire x F!Lunarian!Reader

100+ Followers Special!! I APPRECIATE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE SUPPORT!! <3 (This was posted so late oml) This bad boy has been cooking in my drafts for close to a year and a half it feels like, it is very much burnt to a crisp. Thank you anon who asked me about King meeting another of his race! This would not be here without you <3

Also, sorry for the grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language.

word count: 8.9k

Warnings: incorrect cultural description(?)/practices(?), Self-harm(Burns), Imprisonment, Timeline is a mess don't come at me.

( The Land of a Demon )

Onigashima is an intimidating island; the smell of ash penetrates every corner of the scene where a battlefield will unfold. There are no flowers to add color to the brown mud and grey rocks, no snowflakes to grace the island or land on the red mist. The only thriving presence is the skull, where the fire emanates—the lair of a wrongdoer rotting and resting in this sinful place.

The skull, or rather, the rock resembling a creature much like the one on Thriller Bark—Oars, to be exact—was its name. But even he, the Junior, paled in comparison to the Skull Dome. No human could have sculpted it; giants, maybe, but even then, there are doubts.

It was formidable for you to step into the den of a beast earlier than expected, where you would be alone and defenseless. The dreadful aura the place is emitting is fitting for an Emperor of the sea. The deeper you went, the lighter you felt, the fearsome and overwhelming feeling was replaced by the intimidating, and may I say, strict walls you can find in the Wano Kuni, or the Flower Capital to be more exact, the only thing Onigashima lacks is the malnourishment that comes with Shoguns' rule, the exhausted faces of workers, the food prices and the dirtied outskirts. The separation of morals between the Wano Kuni and Onigashima shows clearly in the environment, it's like stepping into a completely different world, detached by the innocent victims who got birthed in this tangle of knotted rope, a mess, a sculptor done masterfully by manipulators of different social hierarchies. It's an art piece that took lives. A work in progress.

Their happiness depends on us. The ones who took it in the first place. The pirates.

We are the only people who bleed flames and light up the shadowed space that is Wano.

Soon.

...Soon.

After the worrying incident of the crew splitting apart yet again to get Sanji back and despite your worries for the polite cook- you were among the majority who continued traveling toward Wano. The plan was for you to become a Geisha working alongside Robin to get selected by the Shogun, but at last, the paths split and here you were in the den of beasts.

There was little chance of concealing your true identity in Wano; the absence of hair dyes posed a challenge. However, with strategic tying, the Obi belt effectively concealed the main factors that could give you away. The uncomfortable sensation is so familiar that you've learned to master not showing the everlasting pain on your face. The lightened makeup applied by the elderly further masks your skin, with red lips complementing your Obi and velvety gloves. The black hue of your flower kimono, snug tightly to your legs, hinders your pace, restraining you from keeping up with other women who, despite being more nervous, are less experienced in the field of treachery. Tonight, it will be challenging to differentiate professionals from novices, and you vow to take advantage.

The occasionally beautiful scenery inside the castle fails to comfort you amidst the fast-beating hearts; it is unsettling. The empty halls, guided by one of Kaido's puppets, make everyone dizzy with the maze-like walls—plain, hard to remember its turns.

In what way did the he turn last time?

The candles dwindle in plain sight as the floor creaks, accommodating the heavy steps of someone on the other side of the hallway. The sound becomes more vivid as it picks up pace, running past your group from the other side of the wall, capturing the attention of a soldier who turns and continues guiding with an anxious face.

It's only when the others, approximately ten pairs of feet, follow suit that you realize the commotion beside the separation. Judging by the soldier's expression, it seems to be a normal occurrence. However, you do not halt your steps; you continue to motionlessly follow, much like a sheep. It turns out the other women have the same idea.

There's an Oni free of its cage.

Debris falls from the shaking ceiling onto your shoulders. You wipe the black fabric clean, huffing as you quicken your pace, gently pushing the ladies to make way. The man, with spiky brown hair, takes another turn to the right this time.

``Sir, how far are you going to make us walk? Do you want us to be gasping for breath when we entertain our customers?`` You ask in a monotone voice, the impatience underlines your words, while your facial expression is the same as the one you entered with.

The soldier angles his neck to look up at you before his expression turns sour.

Lazy sons of bitches are too tired to answer a simple question. Tsk.

Your eye twitches as you await his answer. Not minding the spooked expressions of the ladies.

``Just above this floor.``

You only take your eyes off of him when the dark wood stairs come into view. It's been twenty years since the Beast Pirates invaded Wano Kuni and the history of Onigashima, they left a mark that will be impossible to remove. The residue of red that has maintained its place on the stairs is proof of that, who knows how many more illicit and barbaric things this place... This Country has witnessed. Who knows how many more will be lost.

Yet, people ignore it for their safety, geisha act no differently, even if they feel the warmth of a body no longer on the bottom of their okobo, they don't look down. For their security. Though you seem to be unable to look up, whoever the unfortunate victim was, you wish them a peaceful afterlife.

You hold in what anger you have, clenching your fists onto the sides of your kimono. There will come a time for you to spill it.

Soon.

...Soon.

A dreadful feeling emanates within the group, snapping you out of your daydreams. You didn't mean to get lost in your head, but the moment you let the fabric loose, the double door opens, and the women hurry their way to spots alongside every wall, unhappiness settling in their guts. They put their knees onto the soft purple cushions. Your eyes travel over the shamisen lying beside the cushion you were supposed to rest on. The three-stringed instrument you pick up seems to be brand new—unused and unprepared. However, even as you fix the strings, you feel relieved. Kyo Mai is a slow dance with complicated steps, and your confined wings always disturb your enactment. You were supposed to play the instrument and stay hidden among the performers, even with your snow-white hair and height.

The door opens right after everybody picks up their fans, you hid away in the background with the shamisen now in the proper hold.

(Away from the intimidating aura the girls seem to be spooked of. They don't break under the pressure. They repeat what was practiced.)

Here they come.

The All-Stars.

( Eyes That Follow )

From the three goliaths that were sitting and having an exchange, you've decided that Queen was the worst out of all of them. His immense and twisted pride shows even during his interactions with the women currently swarming his sides, the sadism that chokes the air out of every woman doesn't reach the beasts.

He calls it... “Flirting” it's not obvious to the naked eye but the girls feel uncomfortable, even when they smile, you can tell. It's for survival they smile. It's for survival they nod their heads as Queen throws compliments at a woman who isn't here. Komurasaki.

You feel sorry for the girl, to have Queen captivated was horrifying. You hold hope that Komurasaki will never meet him in person, even as your eyes continue to wander over Queen, for he, even if the filthiest of the All-Stars, was the most social one. A star scientist. It's when Queen starts practicing his singing talent that one of them calls.

``Oi.``

You straighten up. From on top Jack, The Drought looks down at you.

``Could you start the music already?`` His unreacting eyes only leave your face when you answer with an apology. It was obvious he was trying to silence Queen.

As you pull the shamisen closer to your body, you can hear the blond's offended complaints soon be replaced by the excitement when he realizes the Geishas' standings.

``Well, aren't you a beauty with white hair of yours, musician? Though no one will beat my Komurasaki! That bastard Shogun! Such a shame.``

You aren't sure what he pulls out of his pocket—a paper of some kind? A picture. You thought maybe some information would leak out of their mouths, yet the only conversations you hear are Queen's complaints and praises towards the women. Lost in your own mind, studies continue to mix. Is Kaido awarding his men before the festival? It seems unlikely, but unfortunately, that might be the case.

As you begin the melody of "Crane Wedding," there isn't another noise except Queen's malicious giggles interrupting you. That is until the sounds of squeaking leather picks up in the trapped room. You fix your eyes on the instrument while somebody else's eyes drill into your face, past your cosmetics and the flawless kimono. They don't move from your face; in fact, you might even think they are staring past your soul. You can feel their eyes travel to your neck, covered by the geisha's makeup. They stare, and you don't dare to look up meet meet them.

The pleasant music of yours doesn't halt as a geisha brings in the food, throwing a quick and nervous glance your way, but soon she too turns towards one of the three men who called her, leaving you alone with that crushing stare. The time stretches along with the performance; the short melody now feels like a loop of endless tactics put together. Lovely notes turn into a disgusting mess of mud inside your mind, plugging your ears and forcing you to hear the way your heart speeds up, noticing his eyes cling onto the darker color not peeking from under the makeup. You're nervous, as are the dancing geisha, whose only audience is Queen at this point. It's soon when the second, heavy pair of eyes turn towards you, but this one is much quicker to leave you be.

That must have been Jack.

King. He's the one that continues to stare.

The corner of your lips twitches after the realization. You try to keep away from falling and dissecting below his gaze. It lasts even after the dance was finished, his red eyes hold you hostage for the most part, even when you get up and do what your teacher, a sweet old lady has taught you.

It's fear, not of him, but rather afraid of him finding out what no outsider should know.

It's doubt, he is doubting you. Suspecting you, yet he asks no question. He only stares you down like a predator when you finally meet his crimson eyes. Your (E/C) eyes reflect his fully leathered top half.

You aren't afraid of him, no you can't be, you've faced many opponents in your 25 years of living, and you've gone through the suffering even the strongest men cannot withstand.

You are a Straw hat.

You are part of a future Pirate Kings crew. You cannot be intimidated by a mere second in command. You hold your head up high.

It turns out to be the right action that causes him to back down slowly, surely you are let go from the muddy waters.

( Eye to Eye )

The sunrise began as Jack got up, and soon Queen followed him. After his callouts to King, who threw an audible shut-up in his way but did not move from the spot he was standing, Queen wasn't convinced until Jack bulldozed through the door opening and intentionally dragged Queen out of the way.

The poker face you've kept up so far slips when King calls every woman out of the room except you. You can feel Haki building its way through your veins, but you don't jump to conclusions, even as he gets closer to you with a towering height difference, his latex and bands stay unmelted when the fire on his back explodes, little sparks jumping towards you, who is by now trapped between the wall and the giant. You can feel the hot sparks on your clothing land and extinguish themselves, The conclusion is slow beneath his red eyes that are staring at you so angrily, any other emotion so hard to read beneath the mask that thoroughly covers every part of his body, the folded black wings are no exception.

Besides blocking your means of escape, he has yet to do anything physically, the temperature in the room rises with how fast the heat is produced on his back. The fire is so familiar you might even get lost in it, in the old times, when fewer shit stains were roaming the planet. It makes you sweat underneath all the tight clothes you're wearing, especially on your back where the wings have started to ruffle, trying to let some air into its layers to no avail.

You wish you had talent in observation haki to determine what he was going to do next.

You flinch when his right arm raises from where it slept beside his thighs, it slowly gets closer to your frozen form, even if you try to lean away, there is no point, you realize. You are tall, but as both of you stand beside each other, He towers over you, but his intention isn't to intimidate you. The instinct is your strong suit and your weakest point.

You can feel the leather wipe away at your excessive makeup, from your cheek to your platysma his hand travels with a heavy heart on its sleeve.

If King was anyone other than King, you would have slapped it away.

If only he didn't share traits you are so familiar with.

If only you didn't share traits he is so familiar with.

You can feel the cosmetics dragging and staining his gloves, wiping away half of your disguise easily, thanks to the heat, he keeps a note of your half-disguised face with calculating... Wide eyes. The other half of your face, one that stayed untouched, must be melting.

It's the shaky puffs of air released from his mask that gives him away, the sudden rise in temperature in an already hot room, it must almost be 40°C, yet he does not budge.

Is he relieved...? Enthusiastic much...?

Not a word is said when he takes his arm away, now covered in white. You can see the way the pupils shake, you are sure he can see yours too, the furrowed brows and slightly parted lips of yours must be a giveaway.

The wings.

The eternal inferno.

A laugh escapes in the room-turned-oven, a nervous laugh of a feminine voice. You must be in shock to have fallen so low. Not even trying are you?

In a world that ought to hunt your kind down, to exterminate the past, the world that succeeded in destroying your kind, you don't feel alone. Or... You will no longer.

In the fervor, the mask comes off, leaving his sweat-covered face uncovered for you to see.

(``What tells that you are the only survivor?`` King used to ask himself back in his younger years before he made it clear how erroneous that question was, not to mention unlikely. It a proof of his childish innocence and the improvement. If more of his kind existed, they would be in the hands of the Government, doing god knows what to them. It always made the locked space of memories in his subconscious bubble up and boil over in quiet rages and liquor-companied nights. As he looks at your somewhat clean face, he is comforted by the pitiless thought that, by some luck, someone else managed to survive the hell he also went through. He wishes he could feel at ease, but he has to be sure. He has to eliminate every doubt in his mind.)

It's not out of intimacy and lust that he asks an inappropriate question to your calmed self about stripping. The surprised look in your eyes indicates a misunderstanding of his intentions. It's only mutual trust that guides him to do what he does next. Slowly but surely, he tries to pull his mask off, letting the tight piece tug at his scalp as he sets his hair free. Only when the temperature doesn't change, even when his skin feels the air, does he let the fire return to its original size.

King The Wildfire, only looks down at your complicated emotions. Even if he does not remember the company of his people, he would truly be a fool not to recognize his own biology. Though he doesn't hold onto hope, suspicion still lingers in his red eyes. It differs from your beaming laugh full of shallow happiness, representing more of a nervous tick than anything. It's been so long since he has heard a laugh not accompanied by sadistic undertones—exploiter gifters who dared to approach him—and the liquor Kaido keeps so close during his episodes.

``... I apologize for the heat."

You smile with somewhat shocked eyes looking up at him. ``...You know, it's been a while since I've felt the excitement of my kind.`` a nervous sigh you let out lead the conversation.

`` you don't have to apologize.``

``Yes... I-`` He has forgotten many unique reflexes with time. For this instance, it doesn't pains him. Every day he forgets what distinguishes the instincts of Lunarians, for he feels less of his kind.

He counts it as a sin, a shameful part of adulting, a side effect of having to live among the likes of Kaido's men, therefore his choice.

You acknowledge his position with his back turned to the door, sitting down cross-legged as he mentions for you to do the same. You obey, his wings hovering over you and hiding your figure from the outside world.

He asks once more to turn your back to him. You try to find any joke to fit in the thick air of nervous glances, but you find none. The unconscious mutual loyalty the both of you have towards one another is born by the shared traits, of family. Of shared pain.

You take the Obi belt in your hands and off of your waist.

He has many questions he cannot get out of his mouth, but for now, he keeps quiet. He is sure you have no intention of reliving the hell on earth that is the past.

You turn your back to a beast with the pattern of a face on its back.

As you take the black fabric of your kimono off, layer by layer the cold bites at your wet body, and the salty smell lets out into the heated air, though none of you care for the odor. You drop the kimono just below your belly button and let the relief that comes with letting your wings flex and take hold.

With a fast-beating heart, King watches.

It's in a haze that he reaches out to your back, his fingers connecting to the shoulders where the wings come from, sending a shiver down your sweat-covered spine, they're smaller he thinks, more fragile than him, though there is no difference in the power of flame and healing when it comes to genders. She could make them bigger when required. They aren't fragile, they are as powerful as his, but the size difference makes it easy to tickle his instincts, long forgotten and left in the past, starving for attention. His hands run over your coracoid, trying to find the place where the feathers meet the skin, attempting to find the evidence that you are real.

He barely hears your name, caught in the view of the wings turning from black to dark blue at different angles. Though he doesn't answer, he has already shown you enough of himself, it is no longer essential. King will do just fine.

The wings are erogenous, however, even if you shiver under the sensitive touches, no lust taints the special moment between the survivors.

``(Y/N).`` you spell out your name.

By instinct, his fire becomes ablaze when his hand sneaks up your humerus, lingering touches ruffling your feathers as the fire licks at your ungroomed wing. It lights the reflective white strands of hair that escaped from Geiko Shimada. The warmth on your back is comforting to the point where you lean your wings into it. Finally, you light the eternal flame, his hand engulfed in your flames goes undamaged. It extracts and attracts the fire from his hand into the center of your spine, causing the fire to grow and spread onto your wing feathers.

Looking back you're met with what you would call, a confused face of King whose features have been caught in the yellow glow of a fire that you are able to control.

King only stares at your almost nude form with a wrinkle of thought between his eyebrows.

( Guard )

In the way King shelters you, with him beside you and you hidden in the massive wing as he walks into his chambers, you would be wrong if you said you aren't anxious. Happy but skeptical. You doubt he'll hurt you, but the mask locking away his facial structures works as an intimidation factor.

The click of a lock on his door is the only sound that disturbs the silence. Now you are in his territory, his nest.

``King?`` you turn around to look at him.

``Where did you come from.`` It's scary how quickly and unnoticeably he changes his mood. But it is probably because the enthusiasm has passed and questions have started to surface, what you thought to be a nice welcome, turns into icy bars locking you out of your getaway, just like earlier. His red eyes leave a permanent mark on your (E/C) ones.

Where did you come from. that's not a question. Questions don't make you feel as if the warmth has left your body and sent shivers down your spine. They don't drag you down the lone caves and lock up your respiratory system.

Questions aren't meant to stop time. But the way both of you aren't moving, they might as well.

You have to be careful with every word and syllable you mutter. ``I've come fro-``

``How are you alive.``

``I-``

You barely have time to finish your answers before he's asking another one, slowly he steps toward you. In the dark, his leather shines, but as you take another step back you cannot help but glance at his wings. How the moonlight seems to bend with each curve of his feathers, sinking into the crevices and lightening them up in a blue hue, similar to you, but unlike the yellow glow, King's replaced by the white. You can't help but be deprived.

There is only one sentence that is louder than the rumble coming from within him. The declaration you acknowledge within all the noise clogging your ears.

You don't feel the suffocation of this situation, nor do you hear King's voice anymore. The pressure (Despite the windows being open) comes from the claustrophobic chamber. Your wings stay close to your back. The masked face looks down on your kimono, his pupils have seemed to freeze on your form, and the angry aura that he emits is all but a facade of defense. His jaw is moving but all you can hear is a rumble that pours out deep from his chest, it's incredibly loud yet deaf to the ears of normal humans, the volume that should shake walls only quiver your brain.

The moonlight seems to cage you in, showing your footsteps to a starved predator, it's the devil's eye that replaces the moon, with red pupils that stare you down. He overshadows your form, sending warnings throughout your system-

The possessiveness only sends shivers down your spine.

(Fight or flight?)

From somewhere far away, a boy with a straw hat on his face lifts his head from where it's laying in a hammock, letting the yellow straws that are incapable of being split slowly drop onto his bandaged chest. The rough feel of the same material wraps around his forehead trapping a few black strands of hair with it.

He grumbles, the ache in his limbs starting to become much more obvious, with half-lidded eyes Luffy looks up from the opening of the hammock, letting his head peek over at the sleeping skeleton currently knocked out in the same way Luffy was supposed to be.

Something's happening.

He is sure of it, but with grogginess biting away his consciousness, he has no energy left to chase after that feeling, he turns his stiff body the other way, peeking from the left he comes face to face with the man who is a family member in all but blood, who he got back just a few hours ago.

He smiles and lies back down, from the position he is in, a window the size of his head stays open, it shows the moon and the stars twinkling their way into existence.

He wonders what others must be up to, are they watching the moon with him? Basking in its glow like a tiger?

He hates that he has to keep them waiting, but it was necessary.

Soon.

...Soon he'll be there.

Wait for him... A little more!-

( Domain )

There's something cataclysmic lurking in the walls of his chambers, causing your ears to bleed. The shackles rattle loudly next to your helix as you scratch at your ear, only making the headache worse. The heavy pull of sea stone brings down your mood. Rough exterior already leaving its mark on your hands

The mirror rests across the bed, compelling the disheveled mess of yourself to face the view. Hair strands fall on the sides of your face, greasy with gel, and your face—oh God, your face—appears smudged, as if the color is melting away. The swollen eyes that signal a newly awakened person squint to see your reflection.

The clothes are still on your body despite being passed out on the enormous bed of a murderer, a killer, and a tyrant's sidekick last night. Another ridiculous error to add to the imaginary board.

Back when King unleashed the color of the Supreme King on your cornered self you didn't dare fight back, and the shackles were here in the form of consequence to your conclusion.

The room was dark, with the only source of light being the window next to the mirror. The bars on the outside really make you feel at home. The decor set a scene suggesting no man had ever lived there. Occasional scratches marked the floor, and the specially modified bed, along with what you could only guess was a closet, were all tailored to fit his taste. Gothic undertones and a taste reminiscent of some old king's private quarters defined his preferences. You could barely discern the detailing on the bed and the strangely designed closet colored in black and gold. The dominating dark blue swallowed any light that entered the room, and there was a door to your left, likely leading to the bathroom.

The quiet morning was disturbed by the entrance of King, he stands in front of the same door you remember entering last night.

You feel quite disgusted.

``I didn't expect you to be awake.`` For a moment before you passed out, you didn't either.

The uneasy eyes meet kings' as time stills. Dragging out the undesirable connection. It only serves to tug your heart down to your gut. The happy moment, the relief and sorrow for the past nothing but a distant memory in the dark shadows of a realm not your own.

He moves closer to your bed, hands dropping what seems to be extra clothes near your feet. The man doesn't flinch as you push your legs closer to your torso and away from him. The rejection is disregarded.

``You should change.`` Carefully you nod your head.

``The bathroom is over there.``His stern voice shakes the weak walls of your mind as he turns his back on you before walking over to the entrance.

You can't help but let out a shaky breath as the door is locked and you're left alone with thoughts you can not connect no matter how hard you try, it only serves to make tremors run up your spine and into your fingertips, it's a dread invading a carefully maintained flesh you tried to protect with the hands of a child once. The deep noise your restraints produce was nothing but a ghost of your past just a couple of days ago. The weight on your wrists burns. The crackle is deafening and bone-shaking. There's no one else to hear you.

``... I need...`` Time to think, to process. Your lips shiver.

The soft white walls are nothing but an illusion. You wonder if the blue-colored room of a beast is a delusion.

The eyes and the goggles flash before you, white coats accompanied by bloodlust run over your thoughts.

Breathe.

You push your knees off of the bed, sweat traveling down your face, the cold is in no way a comfort.

The warm water is what tempts you to tread the wooden floor.

( Lone Wolf )

The water is hot against your skin as the shower head lets the boiling droplets escape freely from the metal, and steam coats the world in the lightest tints. King brings the ache you've long forgotten existed ever since the smile of a boy with the straw hat lit your life full of shadow. You wish you could be happy in the burning downpour, you deserve it, however, the inferno on your back heals the drawbacks, leaving no trace of your accomplishments which took more than a couple of burns to earn.

And you wonder what have you done to earn this.

The happiness of no longer carrying the guilt was relieving, even if it lasted for a couple of minutes.

As a little lady you would wish for a knight to come and take you away to the land of dreams, make the walls just a bit more colorful and alive in the world that burns dreams. The warm hands would he have, the soft look and the shine in his eyes, the wings on his back, and the fire that would put the sun to shame with its flames. The honey on his lips and the daisies in your hair.

The desires were harmless, they gave you hope, something a human would have.

(You can still taste the metal. You can feel the debris fall and you hear their landing making the ground of pure white shake.

Your instincts would only let you run. Would only make you avoid the black broken bricks covered in glitter. Shining green from the light and smoke.

You have no idea what exploded. You won't want to know.

That night, the girl left that place and its guards to be doomed into oblivion.

That night, a knight was left without his princess.)

The sizzling sound you feel is draining you of the energy you might need, it's a waste yet the fire on your back regenerates the lost skin again, again and again. Until you give in and stop the shower, only for the shackles to be felt around your hands. Your wings are open, fully on display.

Sensing the burns in your bones, you wonder what would have happened if you were more close to the explosion of the past, wonder if it would have been better as the water droplets fall from your wet face.

It's fairer than facing the reality that complicates the fragile string of truths once again.

Hands clenched into fists and fire growing ever hotter on your back, you wonder if you are patient enough for this, no longer does a little girl await for saving. She doesn't need to anymore. Someone else might.

It brings up a question. Can you be the light needed for one's darkest times?

You walk out of the shower with a hot back and bloody palms, the fire burns brightly above the feathers. You can only hope to fuel it forever. You keep the wings close, your captor closer.

No longer will you be truly alone.

( Purity )

If there's one thing you've learned as a child, it's that they aim for the stars, with no plan in mind and ambition in their belly, only a brave few truly make it into the sky and those who could not are left with clipped wings and broken dreams. Fragile to the point they crash onto the soil and shatter, never to be put together again.

It makes you proud that your captain never crashed down, that his wings were never clipped, you're sure that the thoughtlessness was enough to boost him to reach beyond the stars.

Before, you wondered if you were able to grab onto the lights that looked down on you during the night. Now you live to see it come true.

However, where you succeeded some failed.

And so King came crashing down with the one who put his wings back together, feather by feather, vigorous and more dreadful than ever.

He split the skies until it cried.

You refuse to allow him to recite Kaidou's doing to you. Day after day in the dark and cold chamber, your fire brightens the dark and continuously burns on your back, never once diminishing.

Nobody is allowed that pleasure.

( Prison )

Getting used to a closed environment comes naturally, as much as you hate to admit it. The dim walls are a new addition to your view, which is no longer full of white coats and a bright enclosure. The heavy shackles are much harder to familiarize with.

In a cold chamber time moves fast.

Your only interaction with the outside world is King, dark and broody, full of confidence and gentleness, he treats you as if you're fragility itself. You won't beg for a way out, you never did, humiliation over naught is an intense feeling to swallow. He's careful with his words, careful in the way he acts and reconnects with his instincts right by your side.

Day after day his visits keep a consistent schedule, with two plates of food and loneliness in his belly he strives to spend breakfast, lunch, and dinner together with you, speaking only a few words of insight. There's fire on your back yet, it does nothing to protect you from the coldness he brings. Wings stay close to your back, never truly opening in the cage. The words he says don't carry the weight of a man born for death.

One wants to lower your walls while shackling you with his, to the point that the invisible distance strains you, he is full of drought and he craves to end the famine.

Time passes and the longer you ignore the elephant in the room, the heavier its weight on your shoulders grows. You destruct yourself for a question you're not ready to hear the answer to. The pressure leads to an opening to form.

It's said in an outlandish way, heart swelling with numbness and hate tingling your fingers. Your eyes stare onward, beyond the figure meeting them.

``What are you achieving?`` Why have you caged me? Weren't you in my position once upon a time?

It stops him dead in the tracks. His eyes don't widen yet his mouth does in a way that seems robotic. The air stills, only the noise of crackling fire could be heard, heavy and rich with the enigma the man was created to be.

Why did you choose kaidou?

You want to ask.

``...Nothing. I achieve nothing.`` you ignore the strict undertone and drink the tea he brought not too long ago. It conceals the wary gulp.

``I would never have taken you for a liar.`` An intense sound is created as he slices the distance between you two with his flight, black wings ajar. a sharp feather rests near your throat. You have to be attentive. Careful to not snap the thick rope that holds his pieces together.

Blood seeps out of the cut.

``Why do you wish for death?``

``You could have murdered me the night we met.`` It's too late for your soul to perish. His reasoning for keeping you alive is clear to you.

His hand, clenching the root of a dangerously pointed feather shakes with the conflicted emotion.

Your back lights and the cut is healed.

He cannot do it, not to his kind. With a quiet grunt, King backs off to leave the chamber, his feather crumbled and abandoned on the cold wood.

Every night is spent alone on a bed made for your kind, it's just that this night feels full of plain dismay and sorrow.

The past does not visit tonight.

( The Other Side )

Your words penetrate him, though he doesn't indicate. The conversation is buried in the depths of ash, fire blooms inside of him, it rages and burns, and wherever he steps the smoke trails after him.

``Haven't you walked the same path?``

His subordinates are seated around a large table, smiles and crevices on their face.

``Do you not know darkness?``

He does. He is intimate with it.

``The hopelessness of being someones plaything?``

He can feel the heat of the past catching up to him, engulfing him in the ball of flame and strapping him on a table. He knows how it feels to be burned to oblivion, the only peace he has known. Words of madness leave his lips, everyone, including himself knows that it's empty threats, for he stands on the other side of the glass. Nothing but a guinea pig

``I know that you know it too. We walked the same path.``

He would have grabbed anyone's hand if only they reached out. It just so happened that he grabbed someone who could change the world, for the better or for worse.

He looks at the barren wasteland of Onigashima.

Was it truly a choice when your options were between freedom and its absence?

He finds that time flies swiftly when sailing. It halts when on the land.

(He has never belonged to either.)

``Why do you recite history?``

He comes to a conclusion, one of selfishness and fear. Clenched fist heats up, he does not pay attention to the rising temperature.

He craves his kind. The hopelessness is the reason he captured you.

His teeth grind against one another. He isn't on the level of humans, his superior biology won't let him stoop that low, but he finds that mentally, he and them are cut from the same cloth. Other's consequences directed him to repeat what he feared.

The thought has long since passed.

King finds it hard to care about them.

But you are entirely foreign. He can taste the smoke of Punk Hazard.

You try again and again. Lightly scratching at the metaphorical walls of him until your hands grab his heart softly, ripping the veins and staining your hands with his blood.

Your mouth only forages for the food King fetches. He wonders about you and the possibilities of it all until the voice he has gotten used to brings him back to earth, you do nothing to cushion his fall, only stalling his drop with words he feels entirely uncomfortable to understand. For the reason that he had no one to share it with.

``There's a saying about them`` You say, looking oblivious with the plate resting on your knees, mouth cooling down the food.

``A man is wolf to man.`` He gets it, King is sure he will hear your voice saying it whenever the existence of The Celestials get brought up.

``I'm glad you aren't one.``

For a moment King thinks about the blood he spilled, the curses his shoulders withstand and the beginning of it all, the things he has seen himself do, and replies.

``I could say the same.``

You can see his face, swatted with shadows even without the mask, crack, and the hidden comfort dawns on his face.

The soup in your hands is warm like the sunlight, the mask he gripped whenever entering the room rests on the bed, no longer present in his claws.

A path reveals itself to the two of you.

(There's a flower that blooms only in cold surroundings, It feeds from the ground and awaits the warmth of the sun, from the grey clouds and falling snow, the light peeks through.)

( No Regrets )

Through the window, you can smell the madness in the air, it's evident in the way King comes in while the walls around you shake with the rhythms of Queen's performance.

Your heart follows along with the melody without your consent. After all, there is not much to do with the man that you have come to accept. The walls are nothing against the booming voice of a man too loud and apathetic. But within the confines of the castle, the tense atmosphere can be felt with the help of King. Every step he takes and grunt that follows brings forth his thoughts and instincts, there's something in the air. Teetering on the edges of your mind.

The Lunarian gets closer to you, finally reaching down to your level. For minutes he stares at you, taking in your features as if you'd disappear. The leather flexes as his left-hand holds your wrist.

The red eyes don't move away. Neither do yours.

The metal spikes on his mask gleam. His eyes tell a story as his head drops down, gloved fingers sliding over the rough material of your cuffs.

Time is ticking, and you are waiting for him to succumb to temptation and finally make a move for both's sake.

King's face tilts up with a heavy sigh in tow to look at you, only for a soft smile to greet him. The cuffs are warm around your skin and cold to the room.

After all, the sun speaks of your captain's arrival.

It doesn't take many days for King to return with the key in between his fingers and no fire on his back. Your smile greets his eyes, and the knowing grin settles on your dark skin, yet the maliciousness is nowhere to be found between your lips.

Ever since his release, King has never felt at peace, perhaps he can only close the distance.

(A glimpse of sunlight was all the flower needed to rise from the frozen land.)

The heavy cuffs harshly meet the floor.

( Reunion )

The smoke is filling your lungs, the familiarity making your heart clench and bring forth a cough. The walls are stained with blood, but you don't dwell on it. Instead, you let the sounds of battle lead your wings; feeling the air make way for you is a sensation missed. The chunks of limbs and lifeless bodies are nothing but a blur in your vision. The battle has long begun, and your release from the King's chamber is far too late.

A cunning smile flashes in your mind, long black hair, and rosy cheeks decorate the memory.

``Better late than never.`` Her composed voice would say, accompanied by her icy and all-knowing stare.

Suddenly, a blue light shines through the castle wall ahead, accompanied by the noise of a gigantic object impacting from the other side. With a single flap of your wings, you pick up speed, aiming to breach the barrier. Your tough feathers shield your body as you slam into and shatter the wall's material. Unscathed, your eyes adjust to the bright figure standing on your left, emanating a stunning light that brings life to its surroundings, leaving your eyes wide. You notice a trail of smoke to your right.

You get a better look at him as the surroundings clear up.

``S-Sanji?!`` You feel quite happy to know that his issue has been resolved, judging from the way his face brightens and stands on the ground of Wano's borders. Although he always lights up near the opposite sex.

``(Y/N)-Chan?!`` His matted blond hair is a detail you only notice with the advanced eyesight your kind seems to possess. The bloody lip and his bruised forehead made him quite a sight. Although the swelling is nowhere to be seen.

You can try to make the words of delight resurface in your mouth, it's always nice to let others know of your feelings, though sometimes it sure gets hard to pull them out from the bottom of your heart.

``I'm glad to see you here!`` it lets the burden on your shoulders lighten.

Sanji responds the way you except him to.

``(Y/N)-Chwaaan!!~♡ It's been so long since I last saw you!`` No longer able to contain the love in his body, the hearts burst from his very soul. Happiness fuels his wiggly movements. ``Oh, how I missed you!~``

A large smile stretches your lips, dry as a desert. ``It's nice to have you back!-``

You could have said more, but the time has already run out.

There's water leaking from the floor above, a loud shriek is heard and your back is met with a cold, menacing look from who seems to be Sanji's opponent.

The reflexes kick in, sinking into your veins, moving you out of the threat of a mechanism falling on top of you.

You'r gaze falls on the Beast. His eyes meet yours.

There's a glimmer of familiarity in his eye.

``Out of the way!`` Sanji's yell warns before the foe swings his oversized arms once more.

The amount of force needed for your wings to fly backward is more than necessary, though the opponent's swings seem to be getting swift at every dodge, the heat produced on your back strengthens your arms and then fists, and you look for an opening to get one hit in, but for a second you can see the furious blue eyes tell you his whole story, the desperation of a man becoming more clear to recognize...

You decide that this is not your battle... The heat is diminished.

( A Change )

The short encounter with the cook was not for naught, his instructions led you directed to a stadium full of warriors ready to risk their lives for a nation that has only its history to live for.

Within enemies, there are familiar faces mixed in, who are also fighting alongside you. With Kaido fighting Luffy and Sanji taking on Queen, it's only logical to assume that the first mate would go for the top of the food chain.

There's so much to do, yet the responsibility does not intimidate your kind.

You're left to protect the survivors of a war already won.

The aftermath was nothing more than a reunion for your crew.

( Hello )

The victory comes and brings midnight with it, cheers and smiles bloom on the warriors' faces as you breathe heavily, and everyone starts to tend to their wounds, burns and deep slashes are nothing compared to what they've achieved. Pirate crews are no exception, they rest and gain the energy they'll need for the morning, until then it seems that you're the only one with stamina left.

The fire on your back grows small until it vanishes completely.

Of course, after Kiado's defeat, warriors took advantage of the weakened Beast Pirates and imprisoned those who could still stand, albeit their dreams were and still are drowning in pieces far too small to see or collect. It's evident that they hold no hope for the future.

But there's a link connecting you to one of them.

You walk near the exit door, watching as men talk among each other and discuss their next step, whatever that may be. Your semblance to that man does not get mentioned by anyone after all, they have not seen his face, but the single glance from Zoro as he stayed awake for 5 seconds is enough for you to tense up, you wonder when it will be brought up. Zoro might have fallen asleep but your heart stayed heavy next to him.

It's a dangerous idea you have, suspicious even, though they must understand, Luffy's intelligence, Nami's smile, Robins's knowledge, Usopp's understanding nature, Chopper's innocent outlook, Franky's family ties, Brook's dedication, Sanji's acceptance, and Zoro's strict attitude. If a word got out, you'd have to face your friends, have to rip a bandaid off of an old wound and hold in a cry. You just have to wonder when?

Yet you still head towards the Udon Prison, consequences last in your mind, the night sky looks down upon you, the stars begging you to go back, however the dark clouds hide them away.

The night air feels nice on your skin, even as you stand above the walls keeping in the Beasts. You can tell that no one is awake, exhaustion haunts the air as you leap down on the dry ground. Mad Scientist Queen is lying face down, covered in bandages that soil the dirt underneath him red, you're glad that his snores are loud enough to hide your wings' shuffling.

The sudden chill runs up your spine and alerts your senses, face tilting sideways, you look at a disheveled man standing over you from behind.

``Hello again, King.`` He thinks of your eyes and how beautiful they look under the moonlight. Your beauty would put Luna to shame.

Your greeting is dismissed.

``Why are you here?`` His dry mouth can barely open to question you.

``To see you of course.`` This time he keeps his mouth shut. Yet his eyes observe your appearance, the dirt, and blood that soaks your Kimono.

To see him after a loss, in a state such as this is a crime that would be punished by death. You're the only exception to the rule that didn't exist yesterday.

``Let's take a seat.`` He hasn't even noticed you move into the center of the prison, too busy trying to keep all the blood inside his body to not flat-line. The bandages are not doing much, and the fire he used in his battle has extinguished itself. All his strength was used up and you wish to see him in this state? There are no words left for him to speak, so he takes the seat next to you. His knee touches yours, the intimacy is foreign.

``This calls for a celebration, don't you think? I grabbed us some booze.``

The liquor bottle nudges him and he takes it with no complaints. The reasoning for others' celebration is obvious, dethroning an emperor is a big feat for anybody.

``After all, a God has awakened.`` King knows.

His eyelids are closed yet he can see the vague silhouette of JoyBoy, the godly form only brings bitterness to his tongue, so he tries to drown it with the smoky taste of beer, which accomplishes little.

``I was mistaken.`` with Kaidou. Regret fills him.

He isn't angry at his loss as much as he is irritated.

``You were.`` The moonlight shines down on both of you. The silence is deafening, nothing but your heartbeats are heard.

``I was saved by that man.`` His head looks up at you, and each of his limbs freezes at the implication. The misery and hopelessness engulf the surroundings. He thinks about nothing except the straw hat with a red ribbon.

``I see... So you're apart of his family?``

``I am.`` the soft look in your eyes makes him envy you.

``...Are you happy?`` He doesn't know what he will do if you respond negatively. King already imprisoned you, took your independence, and chained you to him, yet you didn't burn out, How will he treat you?

``I am, were you not?`` with Kaidou? He doesn't have a straight answer, so he only responds with silence. This was a question he thinks you know the answer to.

It isn't until your hand grabs his cheeks that he opens his eyes in surprise, also realizing he closed them.

``What is that look?`` The strict tone in your voice is nostalgic. He tries to direct the conversation elsewhere, however his mind is flooded with the feeling of your warm hand on his face.

``The marines will come.``

``They'll come for you too, you know.`` You respond with the warning, the Navy isn't known for mercy after all, they'll go after the cause too.

``I don't want that... I don't... I don't want to be alone.`` You add, sheepish of your request, is it too much to ask? You have friends who you consider as family, but King is... Different.

King also does not want to be the sole survivor of his race, he has carried that burden for long enough and now that he had a taste of his people, he wishes to not go back.

``You won't be.`` It's the only promise he'll keep, for your sake and his.

For this, he will have to leave the prison.

``Stay alive for me.`` You beg and he complies.

It all starts with your wing enveloping his form, the soft heat from your contact, and the gentle touch of your fingers over his cheek.

( See You Later )

It ends with a promise and an escape into the night.

With you in the company of your friends on the Thousand Sunny.

And with him on top of a waterfall, watching with curious and intrigued eyes as he holds the leftover newspaper, the ship descends down the mountain and leaps into the ocean next to the koi fish.

He finds your smile now meters away, he gazes with a newfound meaning to his life.

#one piece #anime #king one piece #king the wildfire #king the conflagration #king the wildfire x reader #one piece x reader #one piece spoilers #wano arc #wano spoilers #wano kuni #one piece wano #beast pirates #.my writing.

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