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jetiisyandereclones · 2 years

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Anchor in the sands, part 1

Yandere! Obi wan x plus sized Jedi! Reader

@professional-yearner

With his mental state deteriorating in exile, Obi Wan latches on to the one constant in his life.

Warnings:

Attempted suicide

Panic attacks

PTSD

NSFW (Sex scenes, Nudity)

Age difference (Obi Wan only became romantically attracted to Y/N in her mid 20s)

Depictions of PTSD and suicidal thoughts/actions may not be accurate!

Notes:

Though not the center of the story Obi Wan is older than Y/N, by about 9 or 10 years. She would be about the same age as Anakin.

In this fic order 66 happens and reader, who was a close friend to Anakin and Obi Wan, chose to stay with him on his mission to protect Luke.

Sex scenes are not my strong point, so take what you read with a grain of salt.

I like to imagine the reader as having one of those builds where they look very soft and comforting, but have a lot of muscle hiding underneath and is more athletic than they look.

In an abandoned moisture farm in the Jundland wastes a man was pacing back and forth nervously. His hands shaking around the com he held as he once again sent a message out to his only companion on this world.

“Y/N, Y/N can you hear me? It’s Obi Wan. Please respond.”

No reply

“Y/N, please pick up. There’s a storm coming in. I’m worried”

Static

Obi Wan wanted to throw the com across the room. His breathing becoming ragged as he imagined everything that could of happened to his lovely Y/N.

Caught up in a drug war.

Shot in a seedy part of town. Parts of town she often found herself in for her role as a healer.

Captured and sold as a slave by The Hutts.

Taken by an inquisitor….

He stopped himself there. Y/N was a far more capable Jedi than people ever expected. Her kindness was not often mistaken for weakness, it when it was, they didn’t make the same mistake twice.

He shouldn’t worry. She was beautiful and charming and could talk her way out of a Krayt dragons den. But still. He wanted her here with him.

Here where he dreams of draping his arm around her beautiful soft body. Tracing the curves and valleys of her skin, looking into her beautiful eyes and seeing his love reflected in them.

He wanted the world for them, but Obi Wan was a coward for Y/N.

So he went back to pacing, the thought of her back home, snuggling up all cute having eased his mind enough to keep trying to reach her, but this calm would not last for long.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

In another part of the dessert, not far out from the Lars homestead a women rode her orlak, heading towards the wastes she called home. The normally unbothered animal started to throw its tasked head at a rock in the distance, getting restless, trying to speed up and prancing in circles when the rider tried to turn it back in the right direction.

“Calm down orla,”

Y/N muttered, hesitant to raise her voice and gain unwanted attention this time of night. She was supposed to be back home hours ago but there had been a spike of fever shooting through Mos Eisley.

She had been told it was a phenomena that strikes each year before the rains fall, and every nurse, doctor, healer and medicine man was needed to contain the outbreak. So she had stayed. Going from patient to patient, doing her best to comfort and take care of the people around her. Occasionally there was a serious case, one where the patient didn’t look like he was gonna make it through the night.

Not finding this an acceptable outcome, she dared to use small, trace amounts of the force. Stimulating the life energy inside the patient long enough for their body to fight off the fever.

Y/N had been successful, but it was hard, and for her, dangerous work. She worried slightly about the possibility of anyone sensing her. But no one came, so she figured she was safe.

This time.

So that’s how she found herself here. Outside the Lars’, in the middle of the night, with what looked like the storm of the century brewing between her and home.

And her usually calm and intelligent Orlak was pitching a fit at a rock.

Perfect.

Finally giving into the animals demands she heads towards the rock that insulted her friend so badly. Getting closer and closer the ‘rock’ started to look more and more like a person. When she was about six feet away Y/N dismounted Orla and approached what turned out to be an unconscious Beru Lars.

On this realisation Y/N quickly got to work assessing her injuries using the light of her torch.

Beru was knocked out alright, but thankfully the cut on her forehead didn’t seem to be the cause, as Y/N saw a needle with a very familiar liquid in it. A harmless enough poison. Too weak to hurt a human but enough to send them to sleep.

However Beru was gonna have one hell of a headache when Y/N woke her up.

Hovering a hand above the woman’s head, Y/N focused a small amount of the force into Beru’s injuries. Picturing it winding itself into the torn edges of her skin and gently sewing it back together, closing the wound.

Job one done, now all Y/N had to do was wake her up.

She didn’t need to use the force for this. Beru was no longer in danger of bleeding out, although concussion was a bit of a worry for her.

Having used too much of the force already today, Y/N went into Orla’s saddle bag and brought out some smelling salts and a water skin. Uncorking the salts the strong smell forced her to recoil, but it did it’s job and Beru jolted back to life.

Dizzy with what seemed to be more from dehydration than anything else, Beru blearily looked towards the blurry figure infront of her.

Y/N offered her the skin and Beru drank greedily, her shaking hands supported by Y/N’s strong, steady ones.

“It’s okay. Orla found you out here like this. Looks like you were darted and hit your head on the way down.”

Y/N said gently as she pulled the skin away from Beru. Concerned she may throw it up if she drank much more.

Suddenly Beru’s eyes widened, and she grabbed Y/N’s wrist.

“LUKE! They got Luke, they took him.”

This got Y/N’s full attention, suddenly not as concerned for the storms anymore.

“Beru, calm down. Who got Luke?”

“The sand people. He wondered too close to a caravan and they took him. I don’t know why, he wasn’t doing anything. I didn’t even see him approach, I turned my head for one second and he was gone!”

She desperately explained, on the verge of tears.

“Which direction?”

Y/N asked, not willing to waste anymore time.

“Umm, north east, it was a caravan that passes through the borders every week to trade with the Jawas. I think they have a permanent camp about an hours ride from here. But you can’t possibly be thinking about going after them alone?”

“I….am?”

I reply, questioningly at her. Worried but determined.

“I know you were a.. a Jedi.. but you can’t go alone they, they’ll…..”

“Beru.”, I say sternly. “Either I go now or we wait gods knows how long for the storm to pass and for Owen to gather enough men who aren’t sick or busy with the sick. Now, can I give you a lift home and borrow a speeder?”

Beru looks at Y/N with surprise, having never really heard her get stern before. A reminder that she used to command armies in battle. That She was perfectly capable of handling the sand people”

“Uh, yeah, that should be fine” Y/N helped Beru up onto Orla’s back, climbing up after her.

“Y/N, uh, thank you. I know you and Owen don’t really get along, at all, but for Luke, thank you.”

Y/N smiled at her, and set off at a brisk trot towards Beru’s house, where she left a very tired Beru, antsy Orla, and left with a speeder and blaster rifle, at the insistence of a gruff, and awkwardly thankfull Owen.

Before leaving he informed Y/N that Orla would be well taken care of, and that when she brings Luke back there will be a bed and meal waiting should she need it.

Y/N nodded at him. Touched by his faith in her abilities.

With that she set out into the night, in what was thankfully the opposite direction of the storm. One thing she forgot though, was her com which was still in her saddle bag constantly beeping and about to die.

As Y/N cut across the dessert she let her thoughts wander a bit. Back to home, where her old friend was and she grew concerned for him. He had grown somehow both more distant and more affectionate in the last few years. Obsessed with knowing where she was, he possessive over her when they were out in public together, pulling Y/N closer to him and laying his arm around her shoulder to ward off any sleezebags that commented about her size and or figure.

And there had been a few.

At first it had flattered her, made her blush. This man was the object of nearly every adult woman’s desire at the temple. Quite a few men too. He was charming, incredibly handsome, and dear gods he always smelt so divine. More than one person had been dared to steal his robes while at the temple.

They had always been friends but Y/N had always harboured a deeper affection for him. Something that had caused no lack of amusement for Anakin. But for the sake of their friendship She pushed it to the side.

It honestly seemed to her like he had a secret relationship going with his commander for a while. A not all uncommon occurrence if she was going to be honest, but one that they needed to be careful with. Then along came Satine back into his life. Y/N was never jealous of her. She was everything a woman wished they could be. Calm, kind, elegant, smart, and tough. She was a firm believer in pacifism and while not sharing that opinion, Y/N could defiantly respect her for sticking to her morals.

It crushed Obi Wan when she died. It crushed Y/N to see him so destroyed, empty and hopeless.

She could not bring herself to confess her feelings to him. Not then. So she fell into the role she knew best. A friend. At the time, she genuinely didn’t think that she was his type. Too large, ungracefull and not all that powerful, if she was going to be honest. She always took the sidelines compared to the absolutely beautiful women and handsome men he seemed to attract anywhere he went. And she got used to that position coming to appreciate the view.

But since coming here, even a little bit before, if Y/N was going to be honest, he had started to get closer. Clingier, more… she could only describe it as loving.

He’d check in on her, keep her company after a rough mission, hug her when in pain and defend her when she was being attacked, whether it was on the field or by someone closer to home.

Maybe one day she would dare to hope. But that would have to wait.

She had found the camp.

——————-————————————————————————————————————————————

Back in theJundland wastes, Obi Wan’s sanity was deteriorating. He was pacing, shaking and breathing raggedly, com in hand.

He had been calling and calling Y/N. Over and over for hours.

“ Y/N, please, darling pick up!”

“Please come home Y/N, I… I need you”

“Y/N, I’m begging you, talk to me, I love you”

“Please come home Y/N. Don’t leave me here alone. I don’t think I can be alone anymore, not since you’ve come along”

“I’m sorry for whatever I did, just please come back to me. Let me love you I’ll be so good to you, my sweet”

He sent one more message. He didn’t mean to but he did, it was a five minute long message of him crying.

He had curled up on himself and accidentally pressed send gripping the device, the only connection he had to his lovely, sweet Y/N.

After his last messages came back with nothing he threw the com across the room, accidentally using the force to destroy it as he curled in on himself and sobbed.

He kept re living all the deaths that had happened during the war. Gruesome and cruel. He kept seeing his darlings face on their bodies. Dull and lifeless. Her body next to Satine’s. Cody and Maul standing over them, mocking his weakness.

His failure.

His inability to keep the ones he loved alive.

His cowardice for running from Satine, leaving his confession too late.

His betrayal of Cody, as he left him behind to be a puppet for the empire.

His failure of Anakin, letting him fall to the dark side.

What a disappointment he must’ve been for Y/N. He never told her how he felt, hiding in the Jedi code. He neglected her for years as he tried to selfishly keep her at arms length, despite wanting nothing more than to bring her in close enough so that he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

He despised how many times he left her to wonder why she never seemed to be enough.

If she wasn’t beautiful enough.

If her body was unattractive.

He should’ve told her. He should’ve told her that she’s angelic to him. She’s soft, and sweet and warm and everything he had wanted after the war.

But now it’s probably too late. She’s probably out in the dessert, being torn apart by scavengers or worse, on a ship in another man’s arms.

And unworthy man’s arms. There’s not a single being in this galaxy that deserves her love and her dedication. He was no different but he knew, if given the chance, he could love her more, and care for her better than any slime ball for a thousand systems.

Obi wan looked up as the lamp light caught something and bounced into his eye.

Up on the table, a knife that Y/N had purchased from market for entirely too much sat. It’s half shined blade gleaming. She was adamant she could fix it up, and he was nothing if not a slave to her desires.

Obi Wan felt a rush of determination come over him.

He would wait for her. Wait for the sun to come up and hopefully bring her with it. But if the morning brought nothing but clouds, darkness and an empty, cold doorway, than he would not be forced to be alone again. He would be with his beloved. In this life or the next.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

Y/N approached the camp. Not knowing exactly how to non threateningly gain their attention, she sucked in a deep breath, and let out her best howl, trying to emulate their own calls.

It didn’t work. Not really.

It got their attention, but they still surrounded her, weapons drawn and trained on her.

Through the wall of sandy coloured robes she spotted a small boy with golden hair in white clothes. Looking scared but otherwise fine.

‘Bingo’ she thought to herself.

Slowly, so as to not spook the sand people she began to remove the blaster rifle from her shoulder and put it down on the ground. The lines in the sand peoples shoulders eased but their weapons were still trained on her.

In her best attempt at communicating with them through sign language, she told them that she was not here to fight, merely to discuss terms for taking to boy back home.

Luckily they understood her rough signing and most of the weapons were lowered. All but two which followed her to a fire on the edges of camp, where she was sat down infront of a sand person with decorated robes.

He handed her a melon and gestured to break it open. Taking one for himself and drinking it’s contents. She copied him, despite the foul smelling liquid. Not want to offend and make things more difficult.

Eventually, she managed to drain the melon.

She put its skin to the side and started to explain the situation with Luke.

“He didn’t mean any harm. He is adventurous and curious, not old enough to know better.”

“The boy trespassed onto our caravan and attempted to make off with our supplies. This cannot go unpunished”

“And what did you plan on doing to him? He’s a three year old child, he can barley walk in a straight line. If it’s and issue of damaged supplies or tribute I’d be happy to pay for both his and my own safe release back home.”

“This may be a larger price than you expect. We cannot allow such actions to be ignored and forgotten. Not even for the begging of a pretty lady”

“What do you want” Y/N asked, resolute.

“You are Jedi are you not.”

At this Y/N went white

“How did you know”

“I am shaman and healer for this tribe. I have seen many moons pass by. And I have seen you many times from up on the ridge, healing what cannot be healed.”

“What do you want” Y/N asked again.

“A favour. One single favour from a Jedi that they cannot refuse once asked.”

Y/N weighed her options. It had not escaped her notice that he failed to mention what this favour would be, or when it would be called in. It made her uneasy, but she had no choice.

“Done”

The shaman tilted his head at her.

Despite her best efforts, Y/N could not get a read on his emotions or thoughts, seeming to her like there was an impenetrable fog around his being.

“Careful child. This is no small promise. We will ask whatever we want of you and you cannot refuse us. Are you sure you wish to leave with this promise?”

“Do I have a choice?” Y/N signed

“No”

And with a howl Luke is shoved into Y/N’s arms. They were escorted back to owens speeder, Y/N gratefully accepting the blaster rifle back as they climbed on.

With a rev of the engine and a cloud of dust they were off into the night, Y/N hoping to be able to make it back before morning came and the storms hit.

Explaining to Owen that she had to go back home, he told her to be careful. The sand people were crafty. That if she wanted an escort he’d take her.

Y/N could tell he wanted to stay home with his wife and nephew.

“I’ll be fine Owen. The storms shouldn’t hit for another two hours at least.”

“Suit yourself” he grunted. But Y/N could see the relief on his face.

Y/N took out into the night on Orla, happy to finally be heading home.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

The sun was rising. It’s cold light filtered through angry storm clouds, slow and thick, casting everything in its dimness.

Obi Wan was sitting on the floor, knife in hand watching it come up, but not bring Y/N with it.

Everything seemed to be happening in a slow blur, everything but him and the knife in his hand.

He turned it over, seeing every last detail on the blade with hyper focus.

It was still rusty down near the handle. Y/N had not finished restoring it when she took off into Mos Eisley yesterday. Though the tip and a majority of the blade was wicked sharp and gleaming in the pale morning light.

He wanted to memorise everything about that blade. Something she had poured love and time into. She had wanted to fix the blade just as she had wanted to fix every other broken thing she found and brought into their home.

Obi Wan noted the small engravings on the blade.

Water like patterns that were once hidden behind rust twisted around the knife with traces of what looked like some sort of pinkish, orange metal inlaid into them. Quite a pretty colour, if he was going to be honest. The handle had been in rough shape too. When she picked it up it looked dull. An ugly light brown and very splintered with darker ugly brown lines on it. He could vaguely recognise these as carvings but he had taken one look at the knife and dismissed it as trash, not worthy of the time it would take to fix.

But Y/N saw it and like usual saw the potential it could have. He couldn’t say no to her and she looked so excited so he got her the knife and she got to work immediately, and with a focus and skill that would make a seasoned tradesman blush.

He once asked her why she always chose to fix old things, even when she had the option not to.

“We don’t have the republics wallet anymore. Besides, I’m good at being broke”

He had looked at her confused and she happily elaborated.

“When your poor you have two options. You can look for the slightly rough things with potential and fix them up. Or you can get new shit cheap that looks cheap and falls apart in a matter of months.

If I buy say, a wardrobe, for example, the sides are coming off, the door doesn’t close right and the wood hasn’t been re sealed in years so stain is starting to fade. But it’s a beautiful dark wood, with a crystal mirror, hand carvings and going for 60 dollars, than that’s nothing but opportunity.

Take that bad boy home, find out the repairs are all minor ones, fix it up and boom. Suddenly you have a beautiful restored antique worth hundreds and will outlive your grandchildren that someone threw away, because they were bad at being broke and didn’t know something worthwhile when they saw it.”

She had gone on a bit of a rant about the importance of being able to fix and maintain what you own after that and Obi Wan had listened to every word. He loved hearing her talk and she had a lot to say.

Y/N was an extremely intelligent and skilled woman. She could point out what he saw as nothing but a collapsed pile of metal, wood and leather and tell him exactly what it was and how she could fix it up like brand new. She had bought a lot on new projects that day.

Projects that started to turn the abandoned moisture farm into a home that Obi Wan wanted to come back to. Her touch was everywhere. Old furniture lovingly brought back to life by her hands and had withstood every punishment time had thrown at it. Old broken down speeders and droids and ship parts littered one of the old sheds she had commendered as a workshop. Projects for when the sand storms hit and they were trapped in the wastes for days, sometimes weeks on end.

That’s where she should be now. Out in her workshop going to town dismantling an engine piece or dragging him out onto the roof to teach him how to properly insulate and re seal it from the weather.

Obi Wan mused that he wasn’t so different from the house, or furniture, old droids and weapons. They had all been taken under Y/N’s nurturing wings. Worked on with love where neglect had once ran rampant. And like everything around him, he was completely hers.

Taking a deep breath he lowered the blade to his wrist. The metal shining.

But he wasn’t like the knife.

No matter how much she worked on him, tried to heal him and bring some life back to him he would not come up good and shiny again. He didn’t think he had it in himself to be the man he once was, anymore. He was more of a burden to Y/N now. With his mission and his hiding. She could be anywhere in the galaxy right now. Sitting in the lap of luxury even.

Instead he had chained her to this old remote, broken down farm, with an old, broken down Jedi.

He didn’t blame her for leaving. He was no use to her in this life and he was not going to hold her back any more. He would wait for her in the force instead. Give her an eternity of peace after giving her a happy life without him slowing her down.

Luke would be fine. Owen wouldn’t tell him about his father or his abilities so he’d have no reason to go looking for a teacher or to branch out into the force.

With that final thought he delicately dug the knife down into his wrist, chest heaving as blood started to ooze out of the beginnings of the cut.

He had taken the knife out and gone in for another cut when the door suddenly opened.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

It had taken a lot longer to get home than Y/N had thought it would. While the rains hadn’t come down, yet, a sudden sandstorm had washed in and drastically slowed her journey home. What should have taken an hour and a half took four hours, trying to navigate through the sands using the force and stopping to calm Orla down when she started to panick. At this point all she wanted was to be at home with Obi Wan and take a nice long nap. Tatooines annual snap winter was about to break and they’d be isolated for the duration of the season, which was fine by her. She could nap for as long as she wanted and maybe even make use of the bath while water wasn’t being wanted for.

Y/N loved this time of the year. Loved the milder weather, the sound of the storm and the water that was for once in abundant supply, filling all their tanks, both main, spare and for selling, to the brim and then some, flowing off the roof of Obi Wans and her humble but cosy home.

Y/N was made for rainy weather. The cold and icy winds suited her far better than the unrelenting sun and heat. She was always of the opinion that the cold brought people together, bringing them closer for warmth and creating a bond that could not be replicated. The heat drove people apart, mad them short tempered, irritated and longing for space.

She didn’t tell Obi Wan that. She would never make him feel as though she didn’t want to be here. While she didn’t enjoy the climate his company more than made up for Tatooines shortcomings.

As Y/N approached the farmhouse, she sensed something was wrong. The force was screaming at her. Obi Wan’s signature was wrapping itself around hers like it was trying to bind them together and drag them away. It seemed absolutely panicked in its attempts to latch on to her.

Jumping off of Orla she made a break for the main house area. She wasn’t worried about her friend. Y/N knew the orlak would want to be out of the sun as soon as possible and make her own way to her stables.

Y/N didn’t slow down to open the door, Obi Wan’s force signature was becoming aggressive in its attempts to get closer to hers, battering against the edges of her senses. She ran to the door and just burst her way in.

Looking around the room what she saw made her blood run cold. Obi Wan, on the floor, hunched over his upturned arm, with her knife in hand.

“OBI WAN” Y/N screamed.

He startled, having been too far into his head to hear the door open, but he’d hear that voice no matter what state he was in.

Unfortunately the surprise of her arrival had caused him to slip with the knife, which now was held in his shaking hand, his grip loosening.

Y/N had ran to him and skidded to an ungraceful stop on her knees infront of Obi Wan, who seemed to be more transfixed on her sudden appearance than the blood that was running down his wrists at an alarming rate.

Y/N was on the verge of panicking. The puddle of blood on the floor getting bigger and bigger. She immediately tried to pack his wrists, taking off her outer shirt and wrapping itself around his shaking, but compliant arm.

She knew she would have to use the force again. But the long night and day she had had all but exhausted her, having not exerted herself this much in years. Her hands started to shake as she once again called the force. Obi Wan’s signature still trying to wrap itself around her,making it difficult to concentrate. Y/N’s hands were shaking and tears were falling down her cheeks but she didn’t care.

She didn’t care about her exhaustion or the fact that she might bring an inquisitor right to their home. All she knew was her friend was going to die is she didn’t act fast enough.

Y/N didn’t look up. Didn’t look at Obi Wan but if she had she would have seen his own eyes, wide open filled with tears and an incomprehensible amount of joy, love and possessiveness in them. Delirious and dizzy with blood loss he tried to move, to reach out to her and bring her close. Try to comfort and wrap himself around her like the rolling wave of his force signature was doing to her own. But he was so tired, his chest heaving so bad he could only sit there, repeating, ‘ you came back, please don’t leave me, Why didn’t you answer my calls?’, over and over again in a rough, slightly slurred voice.

Having mended his wrist to the point where their weak, watered down bacta spray and bandages would do the rest of the work Y/N fell back, reaching out to the chest which held the med kit with a shaking hand.

She found the items she needed and shoddily dressed his wound, saying he was going to be okay and that she would fix him up properly later.

Obi Wan suddenly grabbed her wrist. For the first time she looked up at him, at all the raw emotions that she had no doubt were reflected in her eyes, and with a surprising strength pulled her into him. He wrapped his arms around her with a steely grip, buried his face in her shoulder and openly started to bawl. His flood of emotions triggered her own the they stayed there like that. Y/N draped over his lap, their heads pressed as far into each other’s skin as they could get and they cried and sobbed unashamedly, and without restraint together until the adrenaline wore off and the both passed out on the floor in each others arms.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Obi wan woke up first. His eyes dry and itchy and head pounding with what was honestly the worst headache he had ever had. He felt dizzy and sick and thirsty as he became aware of his surroundings.

The darkness in the room, the rain beating against the walls and roof of the house.

The loose, twisted and bloody bandage around his wrist, and finally, the war, weight of Y/N in his lap.

He paused for a bit, stilling. Trying to dig through fuzzy memories and figure out how he had gotten here.

He looks at the bandage, and it came rushing back to him.

The knife, Y/N disappearing. Her sudden re appearance.

He got a bit pale then. He had almost died.

He had nearly KILLED himself.

Obi Wan, terrified at his own actions unconsciously gripped Y/N tighter, and she shifted, whining at the strength of his arms

Obi Wan, blushing furiously let her go, expecting her to roll off of his lap at the loss of contact.

He expected her to yell, scream, tell him he’s an idiot, a failure. That she shouldn’t have to put up with his shame any longer and that she was leaving him alone with his life of misery and duty. The thought of her rejection was nearly enough to send him into another panic attack, with his currently vulnerable mental state.

However his spiralling thoughts were cut off before they had any real chance of taking off.

Y/N whined again, and had started squirming in protest of the sudden cold that enveloped her when Obi Wan took his arms away.

Looking for more of that heat she tried to bury her face in Obi Wan’s chest. Cutely nuzzling and nosing into his weathered robes. However it wasn’t enough to save Y/N’s sleep and she came to. Groggy and dishevelled and indescribably beautiful to Obi Wan.

Her eyes blinked open. She looked as drained as he felt. Suddenly she jerked. Backing away from him and he desperately tried to follow her, craving her closeness now more than ever.

But she was worried, and looked so heartbreakingly lost.

It looked like she was going to say something, but instead all she could do was cough at the dryness in her throat.

“I need a drink”, she croaked “ stay here I’ll get you one too,”

“Y/N”

“I should also change that bandage as well,”

“Y/N”

“I gotta check on orla, I left her completely to fend for herself”

Obi Wan stepped up to her, his arms going around her waist and pulling her into him as she continued to get more and more unsettled.

“Obi Wan, what are you…?”

“Please don’t do that. Don’t…don’t run away from me.”

She still couldn’t look Obi Wan in the eye. That’s not what he wanted. He needed her to look at him. See him and know that with her here, close to his heart, there was no danger. No pain.

Leaning back and gently taking her face in his rough palm, he tilted her head up towards his, getting in close and leaning his forehead against hers.

“Don’t hide from me. I never wanted to scare you. I don’t know what I was thinking. I thought you had gone”

Her eyes, wide at his proximity and seemingly not knowing where to look, flickered around his face, multiple times landing on his lips, unconsciously licking her own.

Obi Wan got closer, a hairs breath away.

“Please let me kiss you” he muttered quietly, as if their lips weren’t already touching each other.

But reality kicked in.

He, of course had not recovered properly yet and his dizziness took over.

He slumped against Y/N who stumbled in shock but managed to stabilise the both of them. And get him to the table. The room was washed in a warm glow as Y/N found the light switch, noting they had slept right through until two in the morning.

“Right, ahh, we’re gonna talk about that” at this she gestured to Obi Wan’s wrist, looking a little lost for what to do, “later. For now I’m gonna go get us some water and re bandage you”

She shuffled off, cursing as she ran into the corner of the table not seen in the low light.

As Obi Wan listened to her move around the kitchen he pondered about what to tell her.

He was done with the pretence of only being friends. He wanted her. In every way someone can want someone else. Body mind and soul. What he wasnt prepared for though, was the sheer panick and hopelessness he felt at the thought of her leaving him behind.

His force signature wound itself around hers content and peaceful to bask in her warmth. It tells the truths a person can’t admit, not even to themselves. Qui Gon had once told him.

Obi Wan contemplated what this meant for him and his Y/N.

Maybe for once, he could be brave and selfish and take something for himself. He didn’t want to know what life would be like without her. He couldn’t handle that anymore.

Obi Wan had become dependant on Y/N to help him weather the storms of his depression. Guide him through the stress and strain of his mission. To anchor him in reality when hysteria threatened to close in around him.

He would be brave for once. He would not allow himself to be without his sweet Y/N, and in return, wanted to be everything Y/N wanted in a man.

In a partner

In a lover

Maybe even a husband.

Suddenly the vision of her by his side, a young boy holding her hand as he levitates a miniature ship around a young girls head came to mind. They both had Y/N’s eyes and his nose. It was just them in this little home far away from other people who would hurt them.

There was just him, his love, and his family in a bubble of sweet bliss.

‘Yes’, Obi Wan thought, ‘for that, I can do the hard thing’

Y/N suddenly made an appearance again. Snapping Obi Wan out of his reverie. She had her arms full with two large glasses and a jug of water along with the first aid kit and some boiled candies he knows she swipes from the market occasionally.

Putting everything down she instructed him to give her his arm and slowly drink the water. He ignored her, gulping it down as soon as the liquid touched his lips.

In all fairness she did too.

Obi Wan poured both of them some more. He suddenly spoke up.

“Why didn’t you answer any of my calls.”

After taking off the bandage she looked up

“Huh?”

“My calls. I commed you for hours. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I’m so sorry Obi Wan, I wasn’t on the com all day. There were hundreds of fever cases and I was kept busy the whole time I was in town. I didn’t get away until it was already dark and when I did the storm was already threatening and must’ve created too much interference to get a good signal where I was. Then Orla found Beru knocked out and there was a whole thing with Luke and the sand people…”

At this Obi Wans head snapped up, moving his arm and messing up the gauze Y/N was attempting to apply.

“What.”

With a grunt of displeasure Y/N threw the used gauze to the side, going back to dab at the cut as it started to bleed a bit again from the sudden movement tearing up a scab.

“Stay still. Luke had wandered too close to a caravan. They took him and darted Beru when she tried to get him back. Orla found her and I took her home, swapping for a speeder to go get Luke.”

At this she looked up at him

“I’m sorry. I must’ve left my com in her saddle. I should’ve brought it with me or checked in. I just didn’t think to do that at the time”

She looked genuinely sorry. Obi Wan took her hand with his uninjured one, running his thumb across her knuckles as he brought her palm to his lips, tenderly kissing it and resting it against his cheek.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. If I had thought clearly instead of panicking, this wouldn’t have happened. You saved us both.”

Obi Wan genuinely replied, looking into her stunned, furiously blushing face.

She clears her throat. Trying to gain control of her voice again and praying that it doesn’t crack.

“I think thats done” she let go of my bandaged wrist and gently took back her other hand, reluctant to part from him.

“I’m gonna go check on Orla, get her stabled properly.”

She took a step towards the door, then turned back.

“You should really hit the sonic while I’m out. We both smell like shit and I’m gonna want it when I get back.”

Her bedside manner had not improved much. Obi Wan had long since discovered Her roughness with her patients, despite her gift in healing.

Y/N strode out into the rain towards Orla’s stable. Needing the familier task to help clear her head. Obi Wan smiled, throwing back the rest of the water and popping one of the candies in his mouth as he carefully headed towards the refresher.

Once in the sonic it hits Obi Wan what time of the year it is. Winter.

Perfect.

Y/N loved the rain and it was the one time of year they didn’t have to worry about conserving water. Which meant they could make use of the giant tub in the corner of the refresher.

It was another buy that Y/N found at market. Back then it had been a giant rust bucket. But now it was a gleaming copper claw foot tub with a shiny black Porcelain Finnish on the outside. It had taken Y/N a while to complete that one. Having to learn how apply a porcelain finish, how to repair and treat the copper and then she had to find the right materials to do so. It was an expensive job, even doing it herself but she wanted it bad, arguing that if they can only take actual baths and showers for one week out of the entire year, they may as well be “fancy as fuck.”

He had since come to agree with her. Having used the bath and more recently water shower to relax when water supplies allowed. But tonight, after Y/N had finished in the sonic shower he wanted to invite her to join him for a bath. She seemed receptive of his advances before and he has waited far too long for a chance at intimacy with her.

The thought of being in the bath with Y/N, candles reflecting light onto her damp skin as she leans against him, nothing and no space between her soft skin and his own scarred skin made his cock twitch, blood rushing south as unbidden thoughts of loving up on, and making love to Y/N came to mind.

He palmed himself gently, allowing one small pump. If he got off tonight he wanted it to be with Y/N. As he brought her over and over to ecstasy, tasting, touching, hearing and seeing all of her, and offering all of himself in return.

Finishing in the sonic he exited and got dressed, hoping his hard on wasn’t too obvious but unwilling to do anything about it just yet.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Outside the refresher Y/N was dazed. All throughout tending to Orla she couldnt stop thinking about how good it had felt to be in his arms. How her heart had beat when he took her hand.

A million thoughts raced through her head and were replaced faster than she could even recognise. All except one.

‘You idiot, you can’t do this to yourself or him. He just nearly died. He’s probably still suffering from blood loss and you wanna get into bed with him?’

But she couldn’t help it. She had been pining for him for so long. Admired him for so long, and if his actions today were done with a clear mind, which she believed they were, then maybe he saw something in her too.

With her mind still going a thousand light years a minute she raced through the rain back inside. The snap winter had brought the storms in with its usual fury, and the icy cold had made its entrance once again. Y/N though it might hail at some point, and she was glad she had managed to perfect the roofs of her home, ensuring they would not only endure the battering the wind and rain would cause, but that they would properly keep her house insulated and comfortable in both the snap winter and the harsh summer.

Stopping just outside the back door, under the shelter of a small porch, Y/N wrung out her hair and shirt, realising that the filthy rags she had been wearing non stop for three days now were white, soaked and completely see through.

‘Great’ she grumbled, making her way inside trying not to shiver.

‘Maybe I can make it inside and get to my room before Obi Wans done in the fresher.’

She hoped he took his time, cause she had to go past the fresher door to get to her room.

Going into the passage way that held her and obi Wans rooms as well as the fresher room, her luck ran out. Just as she had made it to the fresher door obi wan walked out and right into her…and her shirt that was giving him quite the view.

They both blushed but made no real attempt to look away. Obi Wan stared at Y/N’s chest, which was on full display and extremely obvious due to the cold. Y/N on the other hand could help but notice the tent in Obi Wan’s linen pants, that he had carried with him from his days at the temple.

They stared at each other, waiting for someone to make a move.

In a singular moment of courage that Y/N managed pull out of nowhere she looked Obi Wan in the eye and asked,

“I know you just got out, but do you, maybe…wanna join me in the shower?”

Obi Wan seemed froze for what seemed like an hour, and her heart sank.

She knew it. She had misinterpreted his signals somehow. She had overstepped. He didn’t want her and now she had to try and salvage their friendship.

“Or, or not. It’s okay I mean I just thought with the rain and all that maybe you might want, might like…” she cleared her throat. Looking down in shame “never mind” she said quietly, going to move into the refresher. But Obi wan stopped her.

Once again he grasped her hand, bringing it to his chest, just above his heart. He was shirtless when he came out into the hallway so Y/N could feel his heartbeat. It was going crazy.

“Hey,” he said quietly, intimately with what almost sounded like hope, “you really want, me?”

This got Y/N to look up at him. He looked unsure, nervous. It never occurred to Y/N that as much as she had been worried that he would not want her, wouldn’t find anything about her attractive, that maybe he was struggling with the same plague of self doubt.

Y/N gently took his face in her hand, running her thumb over his bearded cheek.

“Yes. Always” she said earnestly.

Taking her hand away from his face he sweetly kissed her fingertips, then once again stepped up to her.

An invisible bad was tightening around them as he tilted her head back and in a voice that conveyed nothing but longing and Need, Obi Wan whispered,

“Please kiss me my love”

The band snapped. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his. Sucking, licking and nipping at them softly. Moaning gently at the taste of him.

At this Obi Wan licked her own lips, asking sweetly for permission to enter, which she all too happily gave.

His tongue explored her mouth as he made the sweetest whines she had ever heard. He was all over her, licking at her teeth and cheeks and caressing her tongue as he happily let her explore his own mouth. Reluctantly they parted, chests heaving as they pressed against each other, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths, which Obi Wan bashfully wiped away.

At some point during their kiss Obi Wan had started to unconsciously grind his clothed erection against her leg. Y/N could feel it twitch with neglect and she slowly brought her hand up his thigh towards his cock.

“Is this okay?” She asked, needing to hear him say that he wanted this as badly as she did.

He cupped her hand and brought it to rest against his aching need, her own arousal started to make itself known.

“Please, I need you to touch me.” He begged her with a needing whine.

She smiled and gave him what he wanted. Gently rubbing his cock and occasionally lowering her hand to caress his balls through his pants, swiftly getting hooked on his sweet sighs.

“These have got to go soon.” She gestures to the garment. “But I wanna take this slow okay. Nice and gentle. We’ve got all the time in the world.” She leaned up to lay kisses across his chest and collar bones, “it’s just you and me now.”

He seemed to melt at that, folding down onto her, trying to get as close as possible as he palms at her back, hips and ass through her clothing. His wandering hands never staying in one place too long but never breaking contact either.

She nudges him towards the bathroom and he complies, dropping his shirt and towel which had been draped over his shoulder.

He goes in for another kiss, but before he gets it Y/N leans back a bit.

He looks at her confused and slightly hurt, and Y/N kisses the tip of his nose.

“I don’t want to make this awkward or anything but do we need anything? condoms or lube?”

She awkwardly asks. Wanting to be prepared but not quite sure how to ask properly. But Obi Wan didn’t seem annoyed or put off. He just smiled lovingly, understandingly.

“I have the implant my dear” he leaves smooch on her cheek “and I’m clean. But if you would feel better using condoms then I can go get some?” He kisses her nose, laughing at how his bearded made it scrunch up a bit. “Or we don’t have to go that far. I’d be more than happy to just lay with my head between your legs. All night if you’d let me”

Ignoring the raging blush that’s spreading from her face down to her chest, Y/N swallows thickly.

“While I do like the sound of that, maybe not tonight. I’m clean and have the implant, I just wanted to make sure we both knew what we were doing, what we wanted…” she finished awkwardly.

She groaned slightly, closing in on herself. She was doing so well too, being smooth and sweet like she wanted. But now she was being weird. She ruined the mood. She just implied that one of them may have something and now he’s gonna think she’s gross and just walk out on….”

Her thoughts were interrupted. Obi Wan, sensing her distress and embarrassment at her questioning through the force and seeing how she was wrapping her arms around herself and backing off, reached out to reassure and comfort her.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, my clever girl. My sweet, smart little love. I’m glad you asked these things, that you always look out for yourself and others around you, precious little Jedi.”

She suddenly threw herself around him, hugging him tight. His compliments had made her blush furiously and now she was embarrassed at the praise he had offered her.

Obi wan turned her head up, stepping back so he could see her properly.

“No, no. Please don’t do that. I never want you to hide from me. I want to see every face you make, hear every sound,” he leans down closer to her ear and after nipping at the shell he whispers hotly into it, “feel every sensation you have to offer me as we bring each other to pleasure over and over and over. I want to make love to you all night long”

Y/N could feel her underwear soak through with arousal. Her clit achy and demanding at Obi Wan’s heated words.

“I would love that, but at another time. For tonight I just want you to join me in the shower, then let me take care of you, if you’ll show me how.” She added onto the end quietly.

Obi wan seemed a little bit taken aback by this, and slightly confused.

“Y/N, you have no idea how much I want that. But, and don’t take this the wrong way, but, you’ve had sex before right?”

He rubbed Y/N’s arms and shoulders comfortingly, and I she genuinely felt that he didn’t mind any inexperience that she may have.

“Um, not too many. Not for a while and, well , they were never that good.” She suddenly looked ashamed, “but I want this. I just, need some help.”

Obi Wan didn’t think he could love this woman more then he did when he woke up with her in his arms. He was wrong. Force he wanted to choke the idiots that had made her feel so inadequate. But he would do everything he could to help her past that. Happily.

Obi wan Brought her back into him, tucking her head into his chest, he kissed the top of her head. Holding her there while he spoke.

“You don’t need to be ashamed my dear. And you don’t need to be scared of disappointing me either. There’s nothing you can do that will make me not love you,” she inhaled sharply at this, “yes, that’s right I love you. I truly do. I’m sorry it took this whole mess to tell you. I should’ve told you years ago. But I will spend every day saying how much I love you for the rest of our lives.”

He started peppering her hair and any skin he could reach with kissed, wanting to make her feel the truth behind his words when he heard it. Her gentle confession spoken into his chest, into his heart.

“I’ve loved you so long Obi Wan. I need you to stay here. Stay with me. Please”

“I don’t think I could ever leave you. you will never be alone again. I’ll always be right there with you”

And he meant it. He truly did.

She stepped back from him, holding her arms out to him.

“Help me undress?” She asked shyly.

Obi Wan came up to her and softly ran his hands up and down her sides twice, stopping to play with the hem of Y/N’s shirt, waiting for a final confirmation before he began.

“Please” she said in a sure voice.

Obi Wan began undressing his love for the first time, nearly drooling as he lifted her shirt above her shoulders, her arms up displaying her ample chest to him. She looked so soft he couldn’t help but give her a quick kiss and nip to the top of both breasts, smiling at her shocked giggle which turned into a moan when he cupped one, licked and latched onto the nipple, still hard from the cold and arousal, soothing over it with his tongue.

Slowly getting down onto his knees he goes to take off her pants, smothering her belly with kisses and licks as he passed it on the way. Obi Wan slowly brought her pants down her thighs, bringing her underwear with them, kissing and mouthing at the soft flesh he uncovers as he goes down.

His knees pop a bit when he stands up and he groans as Y/N giggles.

“You think that’s funny? It’s not very nice to tease an old man, you know. Especially not when he’s so desperate to please you.”

He looked at her with heated eyes, his pupils dilated and expression hungry.

Y/N takes his hand and brings it to her mouth, taking his middle and pointer finger in, and sucking on both, playing over them with her tongue.

Obi Wan’s breathing is heavy and he brings her free hand back to his groin, his cock painfully desperate for her soft touch. He stops just before she touches him, giving her the chance to pull away. But she doesn’t want that.

Taking his fingers from her mouth she brings them down to her soaked pussy, at the same time palming him firmly, still through his pants.

“I’m desperate to please you too, sweetheart.”

The groan he let out was nothing short of delicious, and she mewled as he worked dedicatedly against he soaked folds, teasing her dripping entrance.

With a lot of will power, Y/N pulled away from Obi Wan and he whined at the loss of her warm body.

“I don’t think I want our first time to be in the shower, but I wouldn’t mind the company while washing?”

“I’ll stay” he panted out quickly.

Turning to get the shower going and show off her ass a bit to obi wan, Y/N didn’t see him undress himself. But her view when she turned back to face him was un-fucking-paralleled.

He stood there completely naked and beautiful. His chest and body hair was blonde with streaks of grey. His shoulders and chest were broad and strong despite his age. His stomach had a sweet layer of fat that looked soft and Y/N knew she wanted to love up on it the first chance she got. His legs were strong and his cock hung proud between them. Angry red and leaking pre cum like a faucet. He was perfect to her and told him as much.

He blushed then suddenly getting shy. Y/N walked up to him, pressing the softness of their bellies together as she started to kiss and nip his chest.

“It’s true. Your perfect.” She started to make her way down and took his nipple into her mouth, mirroring what he had done to her earlier.

He curled around Y/N at her divine attentions. Obi Wan had forgotten how sensitive his chest was, and how good it felt for someone to love up on him.

Far too soon for Obi Wan’s liking she let go of his chest and took his hand, leading him towards the shower with a pretty, flushed smile.

Once under the spray he took notice of how turned on she seemed to be. Her eyes blown, a blush spreading down her neck to the tops of her chest. Obi Wan defiantly noticed how she seemed to be squirming. She was rubbing her plush thighs together, trying to get some stimulation where she needed it most.

‘Poor thing’, Obi Wan thought, ‘he was neglecting her.’

Y/N reached out to a small shelf in the side of the shower, pulling out a pink bottle of body wash that only saw use maybe once or twice a year. She then gave it to Obi Wan and gestured to a scrubbing net, turning around and giving him her back.

“Would you mind?” She asked

‘Mmhmm’ Obi Wan answered, pouring a liberal amount of product onto the net.

He got to work on her back, gently and thoroughly cleansing it, while chasing the net with his other hand, rubbing and massaging her back.

His hands didn’t stay at her back though. They wandered up to her neck, over her shoulders and then hovered around Y/N’s collarbones.

Obi Wan gently kissed the side of her head, grinding his hips into her ass.

“Can I wash you here?” He lowered the net to her boobs

“Please” Y/N answered.

She seemed to be in a state of bliss. Basking in his gentle affection.

Obi Wan turned Y/N to face him.

But instead of going straight for her chest, like she expected him to, he took one of her hands and rested it on his shoulder, washing down from her wrist, to her own shoulder and back again, kissing her skin as it was rinsed by the water.

After moving on to her other arm and finishing there, making sure to spread as many kisses as he could, he finally made his way down her chest.

Obi Wan seemed to be in a trance, running slow swipes with the net over Y/N’s sensitive flesh. Delighting as the water revealed rosy skin under neath.

He was on her chest for a while. Long after the soar on the net had rinsed off completely. He couldn’t resist how pretty and pink and inviting Y/N’s chest looked so he latched on to her. Sucking and licking and nipping at her delicious curves, moaning at her taste and rutting against her side.

Y/N wasn’t doing much better. She was sighing and mewling, holding Obi Wan close and carding her fingers through his hair.

Eventually she encouraged him to let go. He released her nipple with a pop. His lips red and his eyes blown and loving.

“You still have work to do” Y/N said and urged him to kneel infront of her.

While she prepared the rag again Obi Wan had buried his face into her plush stomach, loving how soft and warm and luxurious it felt. He ran his hand up her equally soft thighs, and played with the curles between them.

“Can I wash you here?” He asked, teasing his fingers along her still wet dripping entrance.

“Yeah, I’d like that”

Y/N handed him the rag and he got to work. Starting at her belly, and quickly making his way down, ensuring that everything was clean before moving past her flushed and ready womanhood to her ankles.

Obi Wan got into a lower crouch, pulling her arms to him and draping them over his shoulders.

“Hold onto me lover” he said.

It was the only warning Y/N got as he entered her with a single finger, noting how tight she was. He didn’t mind. He would spend forever gently opening her up if she asked him to.

Y/N had started to rock and grind against Obi Wans hand, his finger curled inside her, brushing against that delicious spot.

“Oh Obi Wan,” she breathed, “that’s so good. Your so good for me”

Her praise had a bigger affect on him than she realised. He whined and dropped the rag that had been in the middle of cleaning her thighs.

The combination of her words and the result of her pleasure running down his hands almost had him cumming then and there, but he just managed to hold out.

Pulling his hand away from her soft womanhood he looked up at her.

“Darling if you keep talking like that this isn’t going to last very long at all”.

She gave him a small bashful smile, still running her hands through his hair.

“Im almost done here sweetheart. Tell me, is this soap safe to use here?”

He cupped her pussy, grinding his palm against her swollen clit.

“Ye…eahhh” was all Y/N could articulate, feeling she was going to explode if she could have Obi Wan soon.

“That’s a good girl. So clever. And this, pretty fucking flower. I’d hate to see all your delicious slick gone but you’ll feel better completely clean.”

He tenderly worked the lather into her folds and at the junction of her thighs. Never going near her entrance but cleaning around it.

Obi Wan ran his hands around her, washing her ass, making his way from the outside of her cheeks to the inside. When me began to run his hand down towards her hole, she blushed, not having thought he would want to go there.

Obi Wan was thrilled though. He could sense her surprise and slight embarrassment at What must be a new situation for her, but he was thrilled she trusted Obi wan to clean her so intimately.

His force signature was purring.

Obi wan could almost see it working against her own in a sensual dance. He took it as a sign that the force itself wanted them to be.

Obi wan reached up and turned the water pressure down, asking Y/N to pass him the nozzle.

When he got it he tested it against the inside of his wrist to ensure it wasn’t too hot.

Pleased at the temperature he asked Y/N to lean back against the wall, bracing her foot against his knee so it wouldn’t slip and taking her arm in his free hand, leaving a kiss on the inside of her wrist.

He brought her knee to drape over his opposite shoulder, giving him a perfect view of her swollen, flushed, pussy.

Gently he brought the spray to her entrance, watching for signs of discomfort.

“Is this okay” he asked

“S’a little cold” she mumbled, caught up in the sensation of the spray against her.

Obi Wan adjusted the temperature and finished rising her off, letting the water pour down between her ass cheeks.

Y/N looked at him.

“You didn’t have to clean there you know. I could’ve done it.”

He lowered her leg to the floor and stood up.

“I wanted to. I want to take care of you, all of you. Always.”

He turned the heat back up and went to get some shampoo and face wash. He handed the face scrub to her while he worked on her hair.

“Can you wash your face while I take care of your hair love? I want you out of this shower and in my bed”

Y/N swallowed thickly, liking when he turned the general voice on for her.

She washed her face, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensations of his fingers scratching and massaging her scalp. But it was over soon after, with Obi Wan’s patience having started to run thin.

Y/N finished rinsing off and roughly towel dried her hair, not bothering to re dress, when suddenly obi wan came up behind her, mouthing at the junction of her neck and shoulder, kneading the sensitive flesh of her tits and pinching her nipples.

His erection was hot and heavy against her ass as he shamelessly rutted against her, needing contact and friction like he needed oxygen. Y/N could feel herself getting wetter than before, swearing it was starting to run down her thigh.

“I’ll let you take charge and do whatever you want to me later.” He husked into her ear, “But please, It hurts.I need you, us. I can’t wait.”

As if on command his cock twitched violently against her, precum sticking to her back and Obi Wan whined.

“Tell me you need this like I do. Tell me you want me here with you.” He turned her around and ground against her soft stomach.

“I need to hear you say it. Please”

Y/N stepped up so one of his thighs was between hers as she started rutting herself.

Leaning closer, Y/N kissed him tenderly on the lips.

“Obi Wan. I need you so bad. I’ve always needed you”

He crashed his lips back against hers as he moved against her with more force.

He was passionately exploring her mouth when he suddenly groaned, his body tensing and his legs shaking.

“No, no no” he whined, just as his warm thick cum splashed up Y/N’s stomach.

Obi Wan was mortified. His face, neck and shoulders flushed bright red at the fact that he couldn’t hold on. He had cum humping Y/N like an animal. He hid his head in her shoulder, tears forming in his eyes.

Gods, he didn’t even ask if he could cum on her. She must be so angry that he dirtied her up.

His shoulders started to shake as he began to fall into his head.

Y/N however, while surprised, was not disappointed or angry. She wanted to sooth him and make him feel better, sweet and content again. So with her own arousal fading at his distress, she reached for a wash cloth they kept on the sink.

“Shhh, shh, it alright love. It’s okay. You were so good, you did so good for me. You came so hard for me. Let me clean us up okay.”

“I couldn’t wait, it was too much, too good, and Y/N… I’m sorry I got you dirty and left you behind and…and…”

He couldn’t finish. Y/N had gently brought his head down to her chest, presenting him with the opportunity to latch on or just bury his face in her. It seemed to put him in a state of bliss before and it was the only thing Y/N could think to do now.

It worked. His mouth swiftly found her nipple again and Y/N and Obi Wan sighed together, sliding to the ground, Obi Wans face never leaving her chest. He ended up half laying half sitting in Y/N’s lap while she cradled him and calmed him down. When he had stopped shaking she tenderly wiped his cum off of their skin. Making sure to reach the places where it had spread between them.

Y/N saw that he was starting to shiver from the cold she lovingly ran her hand up and down his back, squeezing at the slight layer of fat there and noting how tense his muscles seemed to be.

“Obi Wan. Darling?” She cooed, and his head lifted up off her chest, still flushed, his lips swollen and rosy.

“Come on sweetheart. Let’s go to bed. Go cuddle.”

He grumbled and nodded. But as he went to stand up he felt how sticky and wet his spent cock still was. Coated in pre and cum. He doesn’t know what possessed him to do it but he turned to his love and asked in a small voice.

“Y/N, before we do, could you clean me, like I did to you. Please?”

Y/N looked back, surprised he asked. Of course she had considered it but he was in no position to consent before.

“Of course. Do we need to get back in the shower or is a wipe off enough?”

Obi wan released a long breath. She hadn’t rejected him.

Thinking over his options he decided he was too tired, both emotionally and physically for the shower so he took the cloth from Y/N’s hand, rinsed it and handed it back to her.

“I just wanna go to bed with you.”

Understanding this she gently wiped away at his soft manhood, mindful of his sensitivity and watching for signs of discomfort. There were none. Looking down she noticed there was some mess on his balls as well. Cupping them gently in the cloth but applying no pressure she looked up at Obi Wan.

“Here as well?”

He nodded taking her hand and guiding her on how to best cleanse him while not causing any pain.

With both of them clean they exited the fresher, disappointment and embarrassment still hanging over Obi Wan’s head.

Y/N stopped him. “Love? I’m gonna go get us some water and something to eat. Do you want to come, or meet me in your room” she asked, trying to let him know she was not abandoning him.

He pressed against her front, his forehead on hers, his eyes closed like he couldn’t look at her yet.

“wanna stay with you” he slurred, his exhaustion creeping in.

“Okay.” She answered nudging back against his head, nuzzling against his nose slightly, before pulling away and taking his hand instead.

She lead them into the kitchen. Obi Wan’s hand gripping hers like a lifeline.

She got them two glasses of water and fished out some old ration bars, then they both exited and went to his room, not having any energy for anything else but snuggling down for sleep and cuddles.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Obi Wan followed Y/N into his room and allowed her to pull him onto the bed with him.

"How do you wanna sleep? I could lean on your chest, or you on mine? Or we could just spoon..." she suggested.

All he wanted was to curl up in her arms, winding their physical bodies together as tightly as their force signatures already were.

"Can you hold me?”

Obi Wan felt so raw and vulnerable. Brittle like glass. she made that go away. she chased away the helplessness that always creeped up on him in the dark of the night, in his cold and lonely bed.

Looking up at him with her big, darling eyes, her beautiful body silhouetted against the small light in the corner of his room, she didn't reply. she just shuffled over on the bed, pulling the blankets up and inviting him into the warmth of her naked form.

He slid into bed with her, wanting to be as close as humanly possible.

As Obi Wan squirmed restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position he felt her nipples brush up against his chest.

Palming her soft breast tenderly, he looked up at her adoring face.

"Can I put my mouth on you? Please? Just... Just for a little while"

"Yeah, for as long as you like… Obi Wan, you know I’m not mad right? I guess we just got too caught up in the moment."

"I know" he muttered, looking down and taking her nipple into his mouth again. breathing out a sigh of bliss to match Y/N's as he started to suckle on the rosy bud.

Obi Wan shuffled closer to Y/N. Pressing his body up against her plush one, a thigh cradled between her soft ones, his hands palming and kneading the rolls on her back, holding her as close to him as possible.

With her hands cradling his head close to her chest he fell asleep listening to the sweet noises she made, thinking they were the best lullaby he had ever heard. Y/N wasn’t far behind him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

when Y/N woke up, it was to Obi Wan's face smushed into her cheek, his face haloed by the weak light of the morning.

Y/N turned, slowly leaning up on her shoulder, trying not to wake him she laid kisses on his cheeks. Light little butterfly touches moving up to his eyelids,covering his forehead, kissing down his nose and ending on his lips.

Y/N decided she wanted some attention too and went about how to wake him up.

She slid quietly out of bed and padded around to his side, waiting for him to stop trying to worm his way into the space she just vacated, looking for warmth.

When he stopped wriggling she climbed in behind him and started kissing his face again. Harder this time though, enough to tickle.

When he started to stir she switched methods, nuzzling into his cheek, rubbing against his beard. From where she was Y/N could feel his eyelids start to flutter, his long lashes brushing against her.

With a small smile she ran her lips gently across his cheeks.

“Buzzing beee…” she muttered.

Obi Wan groaned at that.

“Mmmph, lovebug!” He sleepily grouched one eye open slightly.

Y/N saw the world spin and she was suddenly looking up at Obi Wan’s tired eyes, still half closed and fighting to go back to sleep.

“Good morning sunshine!” Y/N said entirely too cheerfully.

“Mmmm, no. Not morning yet. I want to go back to sleep.”

Obi Wan was already in the process of making himself comfortable on top of her. His leg slung over hers and his body warm and pliant resting above her like a breathing blanket.

He started to nuzzle and kiss into her cheek, neck and shoulder but Y/N wasn’t having it.

Pushing up against his body she attempted to flip them again, however she miscalculated how much space they had on the bed, going over the side and landing with a thwump on the cold floor.

It was a shock to their sleepy systems. The snap winter had set in fully, the temperature plummeting during the day now to freezing temperatures, leaving the surfaces of their home icy to the touch.

They both jumped, gasping at the change in temperature as they raced to get back into The cozy warmth of the bed.

When both Y/N and Obi Wan had snuggled back down into the warm blankets together, with Obi Wan back to resting on top of her Y/N broke the silence, meeting Obi Wan’s heatless glare.

“Ok, Maybe we can stay in bed a little longer.”

“MAYBE I could kick you out of my room for waking me”

Y/N called his bluff.

He was already making himself at home on top of her again. Holding her in a tight hug, only letting go to wrap her arms around him, then plopping his head right back down against her chest, rubbing up against it, listening to her heartbeat.

They lay like that for a while. Just feeling the press of each others bodies, listening to the rain and basking in each others company.

But something was plaguing Y/N’s mind and she eventually brought Obi Wan’s face up so she could look up to him, look him in the eye as he braced himself on his arms, which caged Y/N’s head in.

“Mmm, You’ve had a rough few days haven’t you darling?” Y/N said as she smoothed his hair back.

He leaned into her hand and Y/N melted.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Obi Wan looked at her, into her eyes and Y/N thought he was going to refuse her. But he took her hand, lacing the fingers together and rolled into a more comfortable position on his side, her head tucked under his chin.

“I don’t know what happened. I guess I just panicked. You weren’t here. Weren’t answering. I thought I had lost you.”

Y/N listened intently, a slight crease appearing between her brows.

“I don’t know when it started but being alone, it scares me. Has for a long time. It’s too quiet and the only thing I can hear are my own thoughts. Having you around makes that go away. I can think, function, sleep”

He smoothed the crease in her forehead out.

“At least for the most part. You do tend to distract me… a lot.”

Y/N huffed at that, but got serious again.

“Obi Wan, I was so scared. Why would you think you had lost me?”

“I can’t say. I just saw you weren’t here and all these pictures of you dead, or in another man’s arms came to mind and they wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t shut up. I guess I fell into my head so far I couldn’t climb out. When I commed you and you didn’t answer anything, I felt as though the world had dropped from beneath me. Spitting me out into a reality where I would never see you again, never get to hold you, touch you or love you. In my mind, at the time, it made sense that you had left to find something better. A life you deserve, not the one I dragged you into…”

Y/N rubbed Obi Wan’s cheek, trying to smooth out some of the many lines that had etched their way into his skin over the past few years.

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I chose to come with you. I chose to stay and keep you company, keep you safe. I didn’t like the idea of you being out here all alone and honestly, I didn’t wanna be alone either. You know that right? I have always wanted to be with you. It didn’t matter where. Not to me. Not then, not now not ever.”

Obi wan looked on the verge of tears.

“I don’t think I can be alone again, separated from you again. Not anymore.”

He said thickly, tears starting to fall.

“You make everything seem better. Our home, my life, it all seems good when your next to me. I’ve gotten addicted to that…” to you. He wanted to say. Instead Obi Wan let Y/N kiss his tears away, her own falling down her cheeks and onto his chest.

“I just want to be good enough for you. Whole enough but I can’t. Everything about you makes me feel full. When you leave I spiral. I can’t help it.”

His tone suddenly got deadly serious as he looked her dead in the eye.

“I need you to stay. Stay with me, by my side always. As my friend, lover, I’d even find a way to make you my wife, if that’s what you want. Please say you want that too, Y/N, please. I’ll give you everything I have, everything I am. Just don’t go”

“Are you asking me to marry you, Obi Wan” Y/N asked, having trouble wrapping her head around the sudden turn of events.

“If that’s what you want. But I’m trying to say that you already have absolutely nothing less than all of me, my sweet.”

Y/N was shocked. Obi wan seemed genuine in his declaration. The truth wringing out in the force.

She rested her forehead against his, their noses touching.

“I’ll stay. I’ll stay with you Obi Wan.”

His joy rang out in the force, pure, bright and powerful. And a beautiful smile washed over his face, fresh tears rolling down his face at her acceptance of him.

He wouldn’t ruin this, it would be different than before. He was alone with her on a backwater planet, in a backwater desert, living in a run down hovel.

No one would find him here. He could keep her safe in this unlikely sanctuary. In the home she had made for them far from other people who would destroy it.

High on their emotions and drunk on his love for her, Obi Wan pulled her in close, cradling her to his naked chest, encouraging her to leave her little kisses and licks.

Deciding she had adequately covered him in love she snuggled in for a nap, asking him to join her, which he all too happily did. They drifted off together, their bliss and happiness bright in the force.

#yandere!ObiWan #Obi wan x reader #post order 66 obi wan #emotionally dependant obiwan

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pleasantanathema · 4 years

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Pleasant’s Writer Recs!

I’ve gotten a few asks in my inbox over the past few weeks asking me for writer recs, so I thought the best way to do this was to compile a list of my fav authors on tumblr and rec my favorite fic of theirs! A lot of these amazing authors are moots—I’m very lucky to call many of them close friends. This list could be much longer, and I could go on for days about every single author, but I’ll try to keep it brief. Most all of these authors, like myself, write 18+ only content. Hopefully this can be a useful tool for authors and readers alike looking for amazing fanfic 💕

@bakatenshii | Angel is so phenomenal with her writing that I almost can’t put her style and amazing ability into words (but I’ll try). Angel’s work is beautiful, masterful, full of poetry, elegance, and smut that will all leave you gasping. Fav Fic: Blitz [Ushijima x Reader]

@blahkugo | Sunnt, Thunnth, Sunny, whatever you call her, she is brilliant. No one writes Tsukishima quite like she does. She is beyond creative and her writing style flows like the sexiest water, it’ll make you thirsty and quench your aches. Fav Fic: Tower [Tsukishima x Reader]

@deathcab4daddy | Tay is all about details, details, details. She fills in every gap and paints gorgeous, sexy pictures and situations for the reader to feel immersed in. Fav Fic: Cerulean Blue [Akaashi x Reader]

@dymphnasprose | Dymphna is all about fun, sex, and slowly filling out her holy bible of smut. She’s amazing at creating realistic sub/dom relationships and her smut almost always comes with a healthy dose of build-up. Fav Fic: Green Scrunchies [Ukai x Reader]

@enjifuckersupreme | Ketsl reigns supreme over pure, unadulterated porn. They are phenomenal at making me the reader wet, and every fic is crafted with so much care. Enji fuckers should bow down at their feet, no one loves and writes Enji like Ketsl. Fav Fic: Attitude Adjustment [Enji x Reader]

@hisoknen | Raph is one of the first dark blogs I ever started reading, and she never, ever disappoints. She writes pieces that chill you to the bone, but warms your sex- her writing is casual, smooth, and realistic, always giving you everything you need, but leaving you wanting a little more. Fav Fic: Sleeping Beauty [Dabi x Reader]

@hoe-doroki | Ana is one of the sweetest writers I know. Every time I talk to her, she’s working on comfort requests or beta-reading for other people. Her writing is such a pleasure to read, as you can tell she pours love and consideration into every fic for her readers. Fav Fic: Can’t Find My Breath [Bakugou x Reader]

@joyousandverywarlike | Zo...holy fucking shit. Zo is a writer who consistently blows me out of the water with her skill. This woman is a novelist blessing us with juicy, rich smut and love stories like no one else can. She is incredibly poetic and her writing is an absolute joy to read; she also writes amazing fics for black readers and has an amazing voice that she uses for asmr audios! Fav Fic: How We Met [Ushijima x Reader]

@lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten | Leah is an author who takes immense care with her work. She works incredibly hard to craft sexy, healthy bdsm fics for bnha. She is a great blog to go to for bdsm education, and she’s also got a side blog @lemonlordleah-extra-sour for all you extra naughty readers who like the darker side of fanfic. You should also check out her Patreon! Fav Fic: Between the Evergreen [Aizawa x Reader]

@linestrider | Nyki’s work is like smooth water, it’s calming, refreshing, but she also adds a nice, chill bite to it as well with her darker style. Nyki puts such an impressive amount of care into her work; a word is never out of place, every sentence has meaning, every paragraph gives you something new. It was very hard to choose just one fic to recommend. Fav Fic: What’s Said is Said [Hawks x Reader]

@lookslikeleese | Leese is one of the most fun writers on Tumblr, and by that I mean you just have a shitload of fun reading her fics. They are like little, sexy treats to take in right before bed and feel a little more full than you were before. She is also the Cucking Queen. Fav Fic: Cola [Enji x Reader]

@messwriting | Lee is also another fun writer! Her writing is exhilarating to read, and you’d never guess she’s a sexy Brazilian whose second language is English based on how well she writes. She’s a little sex goddess who will give you everything you want and more in every fic. Fav Fic: What We Could’ve Been [Tsukishima x Reader]

@mindninjax | Marquie is a full on sweetie with a sexy side. She. Is. So. Creative. Every fic of hers is so unique and her masterlist is a whole reading experience. She writes Bakugou Katsuki so damn well, she’s a master at characterization, even in au’s. She also writes beautiful fics for black readers. Fav Fic: Bound to You [Bakugou x Reader]

@nekokoafanfictions | I first found Ai on Ao3, and then was fortunate enough to come across their blog here on Tumblr! I’ve said this before in previous rec lists, and I’ll say it again, I still read their fics some nights to fall asleep to, they are just that good, every fic will have you coming back at some point to read it again. Fav Fic: City Lights [Enji x Reader]

@present-mel | The. Queen. Of. Dialogue. Mel is a master at making her fanfic feel real, gritty, sexy, and beautiful all at the same time. This woman pours her heart and soul into fanfic, especially into her Erwin series Fragments of Memories. I was so captivated by her work that I just had to become her friend, her work is enchanting and thrilling. Fav Fic: Until the Fire Played [Enji x Reader]

@rat-suki | Annie makes me horny. Like, real horny. Her smut is fantastic and are often little thrill rides within themselves. Fuck rollercoasters, just go to Annie’s masterlist to find a joy ride. Fav Fic: Hell Fire [Enji x Reader]

@rivendell101 | I’m such a big fan of Alisha, that I sent her a request months ago before we even became friends. This author knows how to craft a story, her work is very meticulous with details and her plots are always so spot on. Fav Fic: Sweet Thing [Natsuo x Reader]

@smutbardpeach | Smutbard is the most accurate title for Peach, as her fics read like poetry and song, filled with beautiful language, imagery, and allusions to the brim. If you’re ever looking for something romantic, sensual, delightful, and just overall magnificent to read, this is the blog to go to. Peach’s work is like reading poetry and classics right off the shelf. Fav Fic: Truth in Wine [Hizashi x Reader]

@spicyness | Are you thirsty? Do you like fun, sexy headcanons? Ness is the author for you. Ness is so, so fun and sweet, and is active with her followers and is always posting something new and creative for us to nibble at. Her blog is full of fun thirsts and she’s always a joy to see pop-up on my dash. Fav Fic: Pride [Bakugou x Reader]

@sugardaddykenma | Lin has the most amazing brain. I wish I could just...see and understand how she thinks. Her blog is full to the brim with hilarious, iconic, and down right fucking true headcanons for haikyuu characters. Many nights I have stayed up laughing my ass off and saying “why is that so true?” while reading through her astonishingly creative work. Fav Fic: Haikyuu on Drugs

@thewheezingwyvern | Wyv is a writer who gets straight to the point; her words are poignant, meaningful, and always paint a very clear picture. She is a Shinsou and Aizawa lover/fucker all the way to her core, and she’s amazing at bringing those characters to life in her work. Fav Fic: Salt Lines [Aizawa & Shinsou x Reader]

@thisisthehardestthing | Claudia is one of the most talented writers I have ever met. Period. She has a vocabulary, a depth, an ability to craft the most intense, alluring, and magnificent fanfic you’ve ever read. Most of her work doesn’t even seem like fanfic, it reads like love letters stuffed into the pages of a book that stand the test of time with her marvelous writing abilities. She always awes me, as every single fic is unique and powerful it its own way. Fav Fic: Tocka [Tanaka x Reader]

@tomurasprincess | The Queen of Darkness herself, Mari is amazing at fulfilling all of your dark desires. I’ve never met anyone else who is as active as she is with her followers, as she’s constantly pushing herself to answer requests and give people exactly what they want to see. She has such an expansive masterlist, any dark fic lover can find something worthwhile from her! She’s almost made a Shigaraki fucker out of me, almost. Fav Fic: Wraith’s Touch [Shigaraki x Reader]

@undermattsun | Miki taught me what a skate rat is. Do I understand it yet? Not really, but I fucking like it. Miki is so much fun and is always active with her followers, giving out awesome thirsts, visuals, and headcanons for her fav haikyuu characters. Fav Fic: Flavor of the Month [Matsukawa x Reader]

@vixen-scribbles | Vixen is someone who cares about everyone around her, and her blog reflects that. Amongst all her amazing writing, you’ll always find her recommending her friends and supporting other writers. Her writing is fucking sexy, she knows her way around the bedroom when it comes to fics, and she’s got a lengthy masterlist to fawn over. Fav Fic: Take All of Me [Ushijima x Reader]

@whats-her-quirk | Truly, the best has been saved for last. June’s work is the heart and soul of classic, fucking amazing fanfic. I can’t even explain how much I love her fics, like they will put the biggest smile on your face and have your thighs rubbing together in anticipation. June is writing her fantasies and having fun, and we are privileged to enjoy the ride with her. She knocked kinktober out of the fucking park, with each fic being a new, fresh delight. Fav Fic: Once in a Blue Moon [Karasuno x Reader Gangbang]

This list could honestly be twice as long, and perhaps in the future I’ll make a companion to it as I meet new authors and read more amazing fanfic. Please give all these authors a follow or at least check out their blogs. 💖

#writer recs #bnha #haikyuu #attack on titan #fanfiction #bnha fanfic #hq fanfic #aot fanfiction #bnha x reader #haikyuu x reader #aot x reader #amazing writers #pleasant speaks #my hero academia #haikyuu!!#my hero academia fanfic

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istumpysk · 2 years

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ACOK: Tyrion IX (Chapter 41)

Tyrion looked down upon the farewells from the high deck of King Robert's Hammer, a great war galley of four hundred oars. Rob's Hammer, as her oarsmen called her, would form the main strength of Myrcella's escort. Lionstar, Bold Wind, and Lady Lyanna would sail with her as well.

Robert seriously named a ship Lady Lyanna.

+.+

It made Tyrion more than a little uneasy to detach so great a part of their already inadequate fleet, depleted as it was by the loss of all those ships that had sailed with Lord Stannis to Dragonstone and never returned, but Cersei would hear of nothing less.

Daenerys spent the entire previous chapter whining about needing a fleet. We open this chapter on the same note, and let me tell you, nothing could make me happier.

Would somebody please give Tyrion and Daenerys some ships!

+.+

The Martells would not commit to actual battle unless Dorne itself was attacked, and Stannis was not so great a fool. Though some of his bannermen may be, Tyrion reflected. I should think on that.

What is this foreshadowing? Am I forgetting something obvious, or have we not received a payoff?

+.+

I know your secret, Cersei, he thought. His sister had oft called upon the High Septon of late, to seek the blessings of the gods in their coming struggle with Lord Stannis . . . or so she would have him believe. In truth, after a brief call at the Great Sept of Baelor, Cersei would don a plain brown traveler's cloak and steal off to meet a certain hedge knight with the unlikely name of Ser Osmund Kettleblack, and his equally unsavory brothers Osney and Osfryd. Lancel had told him all about them. Cersei meant to use the Kettleblacks to buy her own force of sellswords.

Do you want to know how stupid Tyrion is? He’s been told of Cersei’s scheme of using prayer to disguise her plotting, but he still can’t piece together that’s what Sansa is doing as well.

+.+

Well, let her enjoy her plots. She was much sweeter when she thought she was outwitting him. The Kettleblacks would charm her, take her coin, and promise her anything she asked, and why not, when Bronn was matching every copper penny, coin for coin?

You know who else is paying them, Tyrion? Littlefinger. Turns out you don’t own them either.

Still a little too preoccupied with your sister, champ.

+.+

"Princes aren't supposed to cry."

"Prince Aemon the Dragonknight cried the day Princess Naerys wed his brother Aegon," Sansa Stark said, "and the twins Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk died with tears on their cheeks after each had given the other a mortal wound."

Is that Princess NAerys I see in a Sansa chapter? What’s going on here?

Apparently the tale of Ser Arryk and Ser Erryk isn’t accurate. The power of song!

+.+

"Be quiet, or I'll have Ser Meryn give you a mortal wound," Joffrey told his betrothed. Tyrion glanced at his sister, but Cersei was engrossed in something Ser Balon Swann was telling her. Can she truly be so blind as to what he is? he wondered.

YOU GAVE HIM A CROSSBOW, AND WANT TO FEED HIM SEX WORKERS.

+.+

More likely, the Tyrells were balking at the proposed marriage. Tyrion could scarcely blame them. If I were Mace Tyrell, I would sooner have Joffrey's head on a pike than his cock in my daughter.

Lady Olenna agrees with you. Too bad this is only a fleeting thought, and you don’t examine it on any deeper level.

+.+

Sansa Stark rode a chesnut mare at his side, looking neither right nor left, her thick auburn hair flowing to her shoulders beneath a net of moonstones.

Every time he describes her I want to scream.

Sansa’s wearing the moonstones Joffrey gifted her, likely in an attempt to soften his rage. It won’t work. ☹️

+.+

The unshaven and the unwashed stared at the riders with dull resentment from behind the line of spears.

Take note of how he uses unwashed.

+.+

Halfway along the route, a wailing woman forced her way between two watchmen and ran out into the street in front of the king and his companions, holding the corpse of her dead baby above her head. It was blue and swollen, grotesque, but the real horror was the mother's eyes. Joffrey looked for a moment as if he meant to ride her down, but Sansa Stark leaned over and said something to him. The king fumbled in his purse, and flung the woman a silver stag.

(...)

In the crowd people were pointing, shoving, cursing one another and the king.

"Please, Your Grace, let him go," Sansa pleaded.

You tried, sweetie. ❤️

+.+

The dwarf slapped his flushed face so hard the crown flew from Joffrey's head. Then he shoved him with both hands and knocked him sprawling. "You blind bloody fool."

(...)

"You set your dog on them! What did you imagine they would do, bend the knee meekly while the Hound lopped off some limbs? You spoiled witless little boy, you've killed Clegane and gods know how many more, and yet you come through unscratched. Damn you!" And he kicked him. It felt so good he might have done more, but Ser Mandon Moore pulled him off as Joffrey howled, and then Bronn was there to take him in hand.

As fun as this moment is, it can’t be understated how stupid this is. Of course this will be the first thing used against him during his trial.

"In the days of the Targaryens, a man who struck one of the blood royal would lose the hand he struck him with," observed the Red Viper of Dorne. "Did the dwarf regrow his little hand, or did you White Swords forget your duty?" - Tyrion IX, ASOS

(Pray for Arya’s hands.)

+.+

Blood was trickling down Sansa's brow from a deep gash on her scalp. "They . . . they were throwing things . . . rocks and filth, eggs . . . I tried to tell them, I had no bread to give them. A man tried to pull me from the saddle. The Hound killed him, I think . . . his arm . . ." Her eyes widened and she put a hand over her mouth. "He cut off his arm."

+.+

Gods be good, the wildfire, if any blaze should reach that . . . "We can lose all of Flea Bottom if we must, but on no account must the fire reach the Guildhall of the Alchemists, is that understood? Clegane, you'll go with him.

George reiterating Tyrion doesn’t know there’s wildfire everywhere.

+.+

Cersei reared up like a viper. "Your place is where my brother says it is," she spit. "The Hand speaks with the king's own voice, and disobedience is treason."

Boros and Meryn exchanged a look. "Should we wear our cloaks, Your Grace?" Ser Boros asked.

"Go naked for all I care. It might remind the mob that you're men. They're like to have forgotten after seeing the way you behaved out there in the street."

+.+

Ser Preston's corpse had been overlooked at first; the gold cloaks had been searching for a knight in white armor, and he had been stabbed and hacked so cruelly that he was red-brown from head to heel.

Aw, that’s too bad.

Ser Preston treated her like a lackwit child. Arys Oakheart was courteous, and would talk to her cordially. Once he even objected when Joffrey commanded him to hit her. He did hit her in the end, but not hard as Ser Meryn or Ser Boros might have, and at least he had argued. The others obeyed without question . . . - Sansa I, ACOK

No, I will not be the bigger person.

+.+

Lady Tanda's daughter had surrendered her maidenhood to half a hundred shouting men behind a tanner's shop. The gold cloaks found her wandering naked on Sowbelly Row.

I’m sorry, I had no intention of making you read this again, but I realized it’s more Cersei foreshadowing.

+.+

Tyrek was still missing, as was the High Septon's crystal crown. Nine gold cloaks had been slain, two score wounded. No one had troubled to count how many of the mob had died.

"I want Tyrek found, alive or dead," Tyrion said curtly when Bywater was done. "He's no more than a boy. Son to my late uncle Tygett. His father was always kind to me."

The mystery of Tyrek Lannister!

Jaime Lannister suspects Varys had a hand in Tyrek’s disappearance during the bread riots, and you know what? I think I agree.

Aegon VI, Gendry, Tyrek... what are you up to, sir? Trying to mold the future to create a better tomorrow?

+.+

They whisper that the gods are punishing us for the sins of your House—for your brother's murder of King Aerys, for the butchery of Rhaegar's children, for the execution of Eddard Stark and the savagery of Joffrey's justice. Some talk openly of how much better things were when Robert was king, and hint that times would be better again with Stannis on the throne. In pot-shops and winesinks and brothels, you hear these things—and in the barracks and guardhalls as well, I fear."

"They hate my family, is that what you are telling me?"

"Aye . . . and will turn on them, if the chance comes."

"Me as well?"

"Ask your eunuch."

"I'm asking you."

Bywater's deep-set eyes met the dwarf's mismatched ones, and did not blink. "You most of all, my lord."

"Most of all?" The injustice was like to choke him.

The injustice was like to choke him! The foreshadowing is coming fast and furious in this chapter.

He thinks he’s the good guy, I can’t.

+.+

The queen has never been known as a friend to the commons, nor is Lord Varys called the Spider out of love . . . but it is you they blame most. Your sister and the eunuch were here when times were better under King Robert, but you were not. They say that you've filled the city with swaggering sellswords and unwashed savages, brutes who take what they want and follow no laws but their own.

Ah yes, Tyrion has sent hundreds of unwashed savages and sellswords into the streets of King’s Landing to police the smallfolk, and do as they please. Up until this point we’ve only ever heard about it from Tyrion’s perspective. That might have been a careless idea, huh?

+.+

Disgusted, he pushed it away, shouted for Pod, and sent the boy running to summon Varys and Bronn. My most trusted advisers are a eunuch and a sellsword, and my lady's a whore. What does that say of me?

Bronn complained of the gloom when he arrived, and insisted on a fire in the hearth. It was blazing by the time Varys made his appearance. "Where have you been?" Tyrion demanded.

"About the king's business, my sweet lord."

Which king?

Tyrion summons Varys and Bronn at the end of this chapter, but Varys doesn’t serve any purpose. He quite literally just stands there. It’s almost like he’s only there to signal to the reader he wasn’t at the bread riots.

+.+

"Ah, yes, the king," Tyrion muttered. "My nephew is not fit to sit a privy, let alone the Iron Throne."

Varys shrugged. "An apprentice must be taught his trade."

Just like Aegon, eh?

Not fit to sit a privy, heh.

+.+

"And you never go far enough." Bronn tossed the wingbone to the rushes. "Ever think how easy life would be if the other one had been born first?" He thrust his fingers inside the capon and tore off a handful of breast. "The weepy one, Tommen. Seems like he'd do whatever he was told, as a good king should."

A chill crept down Tyrion's spine as he realized what the sellsword was hinting at. If Tommen was king . . .

Tyrion has now had plenty of hints that Joffrey is a dead man - do you think he’s going to do anything about that? Don’t be silly.

Final thoughts:

One of the only times you’ll see me happy a chapter wasn’t written from Sansa’s perspective.

18 down, 31 to go. :(

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #acok #tyrion ix

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creepling · 3 years

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am i not enough? (quackity x reader) - apocalypse!AU

( 。・_・。)人(。・_・。 ) | part of the @quackisinnit 1k event !

THE PROMPT IS . . . “ AM I NOT ENOUGH ? “

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader (apocalypse!AU)

word count: 3,306

summary: the reader and alex become a duo while coming across each others paths during a zombie apocalypse. tensions rise as they set up camp in a warehouse, where alex begins to confess how he feels towards the reader. (angst into fluff <33)

tw: zombie apocalypse, blood (ment), cursing, guns, death, eating.

It had been three months since the fallen of mundane life. Three months of complete abnormality, everything known to be in existence that was worth caring about; completely gone. jobs, currency, education were becoming a historic relic. The world was put back to zero. Instead of cavemen and dinosaurs, the new species of flesh-eating corpse’s roamed in packs and seeked for fresh meat. They may have been slow, but they travelled in numbers and they could smell you from a mile away. I learned that your scent became less of a problem when you didn’t keep hygenic. My stence blended with the earth and blood and the roamers didn’t catch us out as much; so we used that to our advantage.

I only had one companion, his name was Alex. He was absolutely dumbfounded when I discovered him. I raided his abandoned home looking for supplies, and when I had to kill a roamer that vacaded in his bedroom; I found him curled up in a ball under his bed. He told me that he had been hiding the whole month when he realised help was to never come; so his only plan was to hide out until he ran out of supplies. That became a problem when I attempted to take them. We made the mutual agreement that if I was to take the supplies, he would come with me. I refused to stay and hide; that is how you get yourself killed. Thankfully he agreed to come with me, and we have been inseperable ever since. However, our bond is nothing close to a friendship, we just had to stick together to survive.

Alex’s main idea was to find a group, hoping by now someone had turned one of the surbubans into a mini civilization. We had travelled between three cities however and we found no sign of good company. As a duo, we have only killed one human within these three months. A man who tried to kill us at gunpoint in hopes of taking our things, to which we scarsely saved our lives by ducking behind a bar table. With one aimless shoot, I shot my gun and it pierced through the man’s chest. I saved our lives, but the sight of the man’s lifeless eyes still haunts me in my sleep.

One night, Alex found a two-store warehouse to shelter in while on a supply run. He suggested we camp on the second floor and catch up on our sleep and starvation, since we eventually got ahold of sleeping bags and tinned food. I agreed, but reminded him the stay can’t be perminant. He agreed also, still fixated on the idea of finding a commune.

While I made a fire and cooked food, I obvserved Alex drawing in a notepad. I failed to make out what he was doing so I asked, “What are you drawing?”

“I’m trying to draw a map.” He said to me, “It’s not accurate, but it will give us a rough idea of the roads until we find a map.”

“I didn’t take you as a smart person.” I said, hoping he didn’t think I meant it seriously. It was rare for me to joke in times like these, but when I did, my humour came off dry. Thankfully, my comment made Alex scoff out a chuckle.

“And I didn’t take you for a fighter.” Alex said. Since being with each other for two months, we both naturally adopted different roles that benefitted us. Alex was the navigator, the finder; he seemed to have a good sense of direction and I relied on him to not get lost. He also had a good eye and was always good at finding things such as second-way exits or food hiding in obscure places. For me, my job was a lot more physical. I was a good shoot, I knew how to make a fireplace, or bandage a wound. When things got dirty, I would get lucky and save our asses.

“Your food’s ready.” I said, handing him his warm can of chicken soup and a packet of chips. He thanked me, putting his notebook down and sitting cross-legged beside me. As we ate we sat in silence, the only sounds in the warehouse being our mouths chewing the food. We hadn’t ate in nearly a week. I tried my best to chew my chips before swallowing so I didn’t end up with stomache pain, but the instant flavour shot through my tongue and I instinctly ate them quickly. Alex finished his food within minutes, licking the chip packet and his fingers; scraping every last bit of soup from the can and into his mouth. I reluctantly did the same, feeling a little embarrassed; I have never felt so starved in my life.

“That was fucking amazing.” Alex sighed out, now heating his hands over the fire. I nodded in agreement, collecting the empty tin cans and keeping them next to our things. They will be handy for traps, tying them with strings and hanging them in the woods while hunting would let us know of intruders. It was the small things like that that has made us survive this long.

“Are you gonna go to sleep now? I could keep watch.” I offered, observing Alex’s bloodshot eyes. If we had mirrors, we would flinch at our reflections. Alex looked rough. He always wore his beanie, which he apparently did even before things got bad. He always had a collective spot of dirt on his nose and cheekbones no matter how clean we were, it’s where it always collected the most. His hands were the most dirty, dirt under his short nails and inbetween his fingers. From the rare occasions we touched hands, I felt the softness of his hands, compared to mine that felt aged and rough. His knuckles were stained with blood. Out of both of us, I was covered in the most blood. When I looked down, my hands had a reddish tint, observing more I could see small cuts on my hands from being idle with my knife when striking roamer’s heads. Without having to see, I knew I had sprays of blood on my face from the amount of times I killed roamers. To think when life was normal we cared so much about our appearence, but now activities like doing makeup, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth seemed so pointless. We were slowly becoming used to primitive life and deep down that scared me. I think it scared Alex too.

“I’m tired as fuck, but I know I won’t sleep.” Alex said in a low tone, looking at his hands full of shame. I nodded my head in understanding, knowing exactly how he was feeling. We hadn’t slept properly in months, instead when one person kept watch, the other just lay down with their eyes closed. We forgot what it was like to dream, or to feel hazy. We were constantly alert.

“Since we have no intention of sleeping. Why don’t we play a game?” Alex said. I cocked my eyebrow up in question. What game could we play that didn’t involve making noise and attracting attention?

“We ask each other 20 questions. Normally if you don’t want to answer a question- you would have to do a dare. But hey, wants the point in hiding nowadays?” Alex said, looking at me contently.

“We should be hiding ourselves more than ever, I think.” I said, adding fuel to the fire to keep it burning. “That way no one knows our weaknesses.”

“So you don’t trust me?” Alex said. His question threw me off. It’s not that I didn’t trust him, but maybe I was unwilling to get to know him. I had already lost the people close to me, and I was still in grieving. I was too afraid to get close with Alex. I always had the thought in the back of my head that one day, I might end up losing him. His intelligence may only get him so far.

“I understand.” Alex said, taking back his question. Seeing the hurt in my eyes, he must have realized what I was thinking. He lost his close ones too. We both lost so much, we had a mutual understanding about that. Yet, I looked at Alex, and he still felt like a mystery to me. He always pulled out jokes, even in times like these. However, in moments when he thought I wasn’t looking, I could see the pain concealed in his face. Sometimes I even heard him cry at night when he thought I was sleeping. Maybe it was about time we opened up to each other, instead of feeling like we need to suffer alone. We could be there for each other not just physically, but emotionally.

“Okay then, since it was your idea, you ask the first question.” I said, hugging my legs to my chest. Alex smiled a little at me, going into thought as he tried to think of a question.

“So, what did you do when life was normal?” He asked first.

I let out a sigh then replied, “I had a very normal life. Lived with my family, did average in school, worked a job to get money. I actually had plans of moving out to the city, I always wanted to go to LA. I never really had aspirations, just wanted to be content.” It sounded boring, but I was happy with my life. I had my ups and downs like everyone else. “What were you like?”

Alex smirked and looked away from me, seeming to become bashful. “I was a twitch streamer.” He said. “And had a Youtube channel. God- it sounds so stupid now that I say it. Like it was all pointless-”

“Were you like- famous?” I asked, trying to conceal a smile.

“Um- I guess you could say that. I had millions of followers.” Alex shook his head, “But I also went to college. I was studying law. I was always staying up late, barely sleeping; both studying and streaming all the time. It took up my whole life, that I just kinda forgot about everything else.”

“Well, you were obviously not famous, because I didn’t know who you were.” I jokingly said, nudging his side. That seemed to make him smile and feel less embarassed.

“So how the hell did you learn how to shoot if you lived such a normal life?” He asked.

“I just learned while doing it. My dad kept a gun.” I admitted, looking at the very same gun I had in the holster wrapped around my thigh. “He would teach me now and then how to use it, but I was never a shooter. The more roamers I shot, the more I got used to it.” Thinking about someone close to me made me chew the inside of my cheek anxiously.

To deflate my melancholy, I asked the next question. “Did you always wear that stupid hat?”

Alex chuckled and rubbed the top of his hat. “Yeah, twenty-four seven. I don’t why, I just find it comfortable. My “fans” would joke that I was bald because I never showed my hair.” He said, “God- saying the word fans sounds fucked up . . .”

“Maybe you’ll bump into one of them.” I said, “Heck- maybe there’s a commune right now dedicated to you, trying to find you and keep you safe.”

Alex laughed again, covering his face with his hands. I laughed alongside him, the first time I genuinely laughed in a good few weeks. Looking at Alex, seeing how I uplifted him, it struck a chord with me. As much as I didn’t like to show it, but he made affects on me that were indescribable. He made me feel just a little more contempt, without him I would probably not be able to cope for this long. We eventually locked eyes with each other, Alex’s gaze being longer than I expected. If it wasn’t for the blood, my face would have exposed the blush forming on my cheeks.

“Have you ever fell in love, (Y/N)?” Alex then asked me, which set me aback. The question was out the blew and I think Alex realised that as he looked away shyly, his gaze fixated on the flames of the fire to avoid my gaze. I still stared at him, almost in amazment, trying to conjuct a reasonable answer.

“I don’t know.” I answered. “I have loved people, yes, but- I don’t think I have been in love. You’re suppose to know when things like that happen, right?”

Alex didn’t answer me, he kept staring at the fire. I found myself admiring his side profile, watching how he slowly bit his lip; concealed in thought. I noticed how the glow of the flames contrasted with the darkness of his eyes, how the light outlined his complexion. When I realized I was staring for too long, I looked away, instead my eyes looked out the warehouse window, my eyes tracing the stars in the night sky.

“I feel like I have known you forever.” Alex admitted all at once. “It’s only been two months, but I have gotten close to you more than anyone I have in my whole life. It might sound crazy but- I believe we were suppose to come together that day.”

My gaze turned back to Alex when I felt his eyes lay upon me. His stare was soft, something I only seen in passing times. I was able to admire him for the first time since we met. In this moment, in the dead of night, away from danger and suspicion; I could look at him with full sentiment. I didn’t need to admire him when he was less suspecting it, afraid of receiving decline or making things awkward. In this moment I realized, I may have developed feelings more than companionship towards him. That excited me. But also terrified me.

“I feel that way with you, Alex.” I admitted, “But . . .”

I decided to choose my words carefully. This conversation was heading in a direction that made me nervous. The world is falling apart around us, and I couldn’t help but question our motives. We should be focusing on survival, not developing a relationship that could be destroyed at any second. Once we step out this warehouse, our chances of losing our lives become high. I wasn’t prepared to damage my mental state, it was already bad enough. I realized my long pause was making Alex shift nervously, so I looked at him in hopes my words would slip from my mouth.

I caved in, muttering lowly, “We should get some rest.” I got up on my feet and was ready to grab my sleeping bag and make up a place to rest, until I heard Alex get his his feet and say words that made my heart sink.

“Am I not enough?”

When I turned to look at him, the hurt was glistening in his eyes. He gulped dryly and he fumbled with his fingers. My eyes shifted from side to side as I was stuck with my words. I kept stammering, and I rubbed my face in stress, ready to plead my case. Until Alex jumped in.

“Don’t think I’m only saying these things to you because there is no one else, (Y/N). I have been thinking about this for a while, everytime I am left with my thoughts. I am certain I will still have the same feelings if we met when things didn’t go to shit. I don’t just think this because we have been the only people for each other. I really really like you, (Y/N). And because of the way the world is, I never want to lose you. I never want you to feel alone ever again. I not only want to protect you because we’re a team, I want to protect you because the thought of losing you pains me so much.”

For a split second I thought Alex was about to burst into tears. That was when I did something I thought I would never do again, which was pull him into my embrace. I hugged Alex so tight that I heard him gasp, freeze, until he eventually wrapped his arms around me and held me just as tight. My face buried into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his body, his soft hands caressing my back and brushing his thumb down my spine in a soothing manner.

“You are enough, Alex.” I said, my words muffled by his body. I reached my lips to his ear so he could hear my words clearly. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to like me, or be forced to like me just because we were brought together. I was afraid you thought you were stuck with me.”

I anticipated the day that once we meet other life, Alex would slowly fade away and forget who I was. Once he meets other people, we would go our seperate ways. I never knew why the hypothetical idea pained me so much, until now. As Alex pulled away from my embrace, looking me in the eyes in a loving manner that was foreign to me, his hands on my shoulders, I realized why that idea made my heart feel heavy. I never want him to leave me, I want him to always be by my side. Alex’s gaze was enough proof that he wanted the same.

Stimulated by his touch, I was taken aback when I felt his hand cup my cheek. The warmth of his breath breezing against my cheek, I inhaled as if oxygene was nonexistent. I never realized the proximity between us was slowly closing in and when I did my eyes fluttered shut. Alex hesitated for a split second before pressing his soft lips against my own. My neck bent slightly backwards and I shifted my head to the side to deepen into our kiss, my blood-stained hands grabbing the edges of his open jacket and holding him dearly close. The heat of the kiss intermingled with the heat from the fire, my cheeks and ears grew hot. Alex’s hands were surprisingly warm as he reached his hands under my shirt, pressing his fingers and palms on the middle of my back before running his touch down my spine. My breath became shaky and I felt my legs grow heavy under me, my hands cupped the back of his neck to keep myself uplifted, and luckily Alex’s arms held my weight and pressed my body against his. It felt like hours had went by between our lips moving in sync, our tongues grazing our bottom lip’s, our hands moving and resting on different parts of our bodies. His touch felt contagious, his kisses ranging between soft and passionate. I didn’t want to stop, I never wanted to let go. Between kisses I would mutter you are enough, you are enough which made Alex smile against my lips.

That night, everything we had to worry about became last priority. The focus all throughout was each other, making up for the days where affection couldn’t be shown. In the dead of night, there wasn’t a roamer in sight. Instead of hearing narls and groans or screams of pain, there was only the faint sounds of nature. The full moon glistened, as if to be a prediction for the emotions spilling between us. I promised myself from this moment on, as I admired Alex, I would protect him no matter what. I will make sure he always feels safe as long as he is beside me. He will always be enough, if not more.

TAGLIST: @momo-has-a-gun @diggorysmalfoy @quack42069 (join my taglist)

#quackity x reader #irl!quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #gender neutral reader #quackity x gn!reader #quackity imagine #quackity fanfic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #youtuber imagine #quackity angst #quackity fluff #apocalypse!AU #mcyt apocalypse au #quackity apocalypse au

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hamliet · 3 years

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Mercurius and the Emerald Tablet

What did Isaac Newton (yes, that Isaac Newton) spend his time translating?

The Emerald Tablet is a medieval (well, it’s traditionally considered ancient but that can’t be verified and it’s probably not) tablet that contains the secrets to alchemy. It’s the very foundation of western alchemy. The tablet itself is really... cryptic and full of very important-sounding phrases that may not mean much. However, its role in history and the legend behind it are much more important than its gobbledygook.

So, would CRWBY really be aware of this esoteric text? Would they really reference it? Undoubtedly yes; they have directly. One of Volume 7′s episodes is literally called “As Above, So Below” which is a famous paraphrased quote of the Emerald Tablet. The original text reads:

That which is above is like to that which is below, and that which is below is like to that which is above.

Basically it means that things that occur in the macrocosm are mirrored in the microcosm, but we don’t have to get in to all of that. I’m just tossing it out there to point out that CRWBY is indeed aware of what they’re doing.

Instead, I’d like to talk about the two characters who are very clear references to the Emerald Tablet: Emerald Sustrai, and Mercury Black.

The legendary author of this tablet (aka mythically its the author but in reality probs not) is Hermes Trismegistus, who is a syncretization of Hermes/Mercury (the Greco-Roman god) and Thoth, the Egyptian god of wisdom.

Emerald’s name is a clear allusion to the tablet, as is Mercury’s to the author. I'd argue that Emerald’s somewhat Egyptian design also suggests she might be a stand-in for Thoth. Mercurius is portrayed as both a thief and a loyal companion, as fire and water, flighty and steadfast, as opposites in every way, essentially. Lyndy Abraham describes him as a force “both creative and destructive.” Carl Jung writes that:

He is the hermaphrodite that was in the beginning, that splits into the classical brother-sister duality and is reunited in the coniunctio, to appear once again at the end in the radiant form of the lumen novum, the stone.

Don’t read this too literally or predictively--the “hermaphrodite” (please forgive my use of the term) is actually a figure known as Rebis. While, in literature, Rebis is sometimes depicted as a sibling-esque relationship when platonic, it’s more often a romantic couple who take on the characteristics of one another. So, Emerald and Mercury could be platonic and sibling-esque or could end up romantic and the point is still the same: their most important narrative relationship is with each other, and they need to reconcile and take on each others’ characteristics, work together.

They are currently separated, which as Jung comments has to happen as part of the work, and will reunite eventually (and yes, Mercury will be redeemed and work with Emerald again, which quite possibly means working with RWBY JNOR). Their song is literally called “I Am the One” which ties into how they are very much two sides of the same coin. Their unity is the end of both of their arcs.

Jung also writes that:

When the alchemist speaks of Mercurius, on the face of it he means quicksilver (mercury), but inwardly he means the world-creating spirit concealed or imprisoned in matter.

By world-creating spirit he means anima mundi, the concept of a world soul or in eastern traditions, qi, that connects everyone. In RWBY it seems to be linked to a physical concept, which I like because it merges the corporeal and spiritual, in “Dust.”

So why am I rambling about this? Because Emerald and Mercury are symbolic of Dust, of anima mundi, of their world itself.

I wouldn’t so much say they are referencing the Jung quote (I think that’s reading too much into it) but there is an element of basic alchemical thought present here that is reflected in Emerald and Mercury: the dichotomy between physical and spiritual, or of the corporeal and soul. However, on the whole RWBY seems to thwart this by implying the physical and the soul are intrinsically linked: the soul can be used physically in a semblance, and Dust seems like a literal physical embodiment of the concept of a world soul.

Both Mercury and Emerald feel trapped, as Tyrion calls them out on:

Mercury: you may not like it here without Cinder, but I think I’m right where I’m supposed to be!

Tyrion (laughing): Oh yes, ‘the world is mean, and I’m a big bad man now just like the others’

Mercury: How long have you been listening?

Tyrion: All you ever learned was pain and violence and now you’re too afraid to leave it! ... I’m going to tell you both a little secret. Your question is all wrong. What you want from this? Children, please. If you’re not loving what you’re doing then you’re in the wrong field.

Emerald: So what? Are you saying we should just leave?

Tyrion: Oh no, you can’t do that.

Mercury: Then what did you come here for?

Emerald and Mercury are imprisoned by their physical circumstances. Emerald has started to break free, but the binds that remain are more mental and spiritual. Mercury is still very much a physical prisoner.

Mercury and Emerald have done terrible things, surely, but they also never really had much of a chance with how they’ve been raised, or more accurately not raised.

If you can’t reach out and save the lost children, how do you hope to save the world? Almost every character of import is in fact a lost child; it’s a motif for a reason. As nice as it would be able to be (or not) to categorize people as good/bad, evil or not, that’s not the world of RWBY (or our world honestly). But Emerald and Mercury are still alive and have the potential to unlock something that could save the world. How?

There’s a third person who is mentally and physically a prisoner. They have the power to give Cinder life with a confrontation and set her free. I’m not saying it’s their responsibility so please don’t come for me; I’m just saying that’s likely a narrative function their character arcs are going to have.

Mythologically, Thoth/Mercury considered to be the one who kills Argus, which is not only a place name in RWBY’s world, but a reference to silver eyes and perhaps to Cinder’s arc. I’m not intending to give the impression I think Emerald and Mercury will kill Cinder (they will not) because it’s an inspiration not a 1:1 retelling. But I do think Emerald and Mercury’s eventual confrontation with Cinder, which has to happen, will serve for them symbolically the way Yang’s confrontation with Raven served: to metaphorically kill and give a wake-up call so that Cinder can actually progress instead of wallowing in destructiveness.

And frankly, I think it’s highly likely Cinder is majorly important to making the ultimate choice that will save the world in the end.

#rwby meta #alchemy #rwby #rwby theory #emerald sustrai #mercury black #cinder fall #emercury #jung

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quickspinner · 3 years

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Damsel in Distress for Hire

I wrote this for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers sprint challenge ages ago, but life happened and I never got it edited and cleaned up. Now I have, so here it is! I used the @mlweeklyprompts prompt Bard.

Luka reined in Sass before the gelding could clear the shadows of the trees, and eyed the keep tower with some satisfaction. It stood alone on a hill, with ground cleared around it and a wall around the courtyard, and only a single tower rising out of the fortifications. It looked like their information had been good, then. Their opponent didn’t have a large force, hence their underhanded approach. They were depending on the seclusion of this place to keep them safe, and not strength of arms. That made him breathe a sigh of relief. He of all people knew how much harm misinformation could do, and though he had done everything in his power to be sure of his information, there always was that worry in the back of his mind.

Luka urged Sass forward at a walk.

“Hail and well met!” he called cheerfully, waving. “I am but a single traveler, of no threat to you!” He dismounted from Sass and spread his arms wide, hands far from the rapier hanging at his side. The guards exchanged a look, but didn’t move.

“I am a minstrel on my way from the capital to cities in the south,” Luka said, with a little bow that still kept his hands well clear of his weapon. “I’ve been travelling all night to get through these woods, and as I’ve stumbled on you here, I was hoping I could perhaps share your fire and the protection your company would afford me from the local dregs so that I may take a short rest in peace? I have some goods of my own that are better shared, if you would be so kind to allow me to sup with you.” He leaned over and reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a large bottle that glinted appealingly in the sunlight.

The guardsmen exchanged grins with each other, and invited him at once to come and share their watch, on the condition that he give them all the news he had and play a little for their entertainment.

“Shall I not be detaining you from your duties?” Luka asked, glancing up at the Keep as he tethered Sass. “I’ve no wish to get you in trouble, nor be chased away for causing undue distraction.” He winked at the guards, who chuckled.

“It’s light duty today,” one of them said easily, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Any force large enough to breach it will be seen from the tower long before we spy it from here, and nothing here to tempt anyone except a fine lady who barely even had any baggage. Come and give us the news!”

It was amazing, Luka reflected to himself as he sat down, opening the bottle and pouring generous measures into the cups they they held out for him, what you could get away with when you carried a lute and some good wine.

“Aye, she was a nice one to look at though,” the second guard observed with a sigh. “I was on duty when they escorted her in this morning. A highborn lady, that, worth her weight I’m sure. Not that the higher ups tell us much.” His companion elbowed him and gave him a dark look, before turning back to waggle bushy eyebrows at Luka.

“Ye seen many pretty ladies?” he asked, and a smile twitched at Luka’s mouth at the obvious attempt to deflect the conversation. “Bet ye have, a court songbird like you.”

“Oh, many,” Luka agreed, hiding his distaste at the epithet. Court songbird, indeed. “Duchesses and princesses and high court ladies of every kind, but there is only one lady that holds my heart, no matter how much my eyes may wander.” He winked and the two men guffawed. Luka disguised a roll of his eyes with another deep drink from his cup. He’d been around this type enough to know what kind of humor they enjoyed. Luka turned his eyes up in the direction of the keep, hiding his scrutiny behind a dreamy expression.

“My lady is as lovely as any princess I’ve ever seen,” Luka continued. “Clumsy, sometimes, but all the more joy in catching her, ey?” Another round of laughter. “She has beautiful dark hair, and the sweetest, most beguiling eyes you’ve ever seen, and her mouth was carved by the gods.” He sighed longingly. “And I’ve been apart from her much too long. I’m on my way back to her now, and I appreciate you sharing your fire with a lonely minstrel.”

“There, there,” the taller man said, not without genuine sympathy, and patted Luka’s shoulder roughly. “Ye’ll be with her again soon, no doubt.”

Luka looked toward the Keep gates and smiled as shouts began to rise in the courtyard. “I do believe you’re right,” he said, finishing the last of his cup. “It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen, but my lady awaits. I leave you this medicinal powder and my sincerest apologies for the headache you’re going to have in the mornings.”

He set a small pouch on the ground, where it would be in plain sight of the men who had just slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Luka tsked as he picked up their empty cups and examined the residue at the bottom. “More than enough to keep them out most of the day,” he murmured with satisfaction. He leaned back against his pack and waited.

Eventually, the heavy keep doors swung open, and a petite figure in a lovely velvet red dress came striding out. Luka couldn’t help his smile, or the sigh of relief and longing that passed his lips.

She caught sight of him and scowled, completely ignoring the passed out guards that lay on the ground.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Well met, to you as well, Marinette,” Luka laughed. His roguish smile made a mockery of his courtly bow.

“Why are you here?” she asked again, crossing her arms. “You were supposed to wait in the capital.”

“I am no court bard, to find inspiration in perfume and flattery and empty love affairs,” Luka sniffed affectedly. “I am a seeker of adventure, and I follow my heart.”

“You dog my heels,” Marinette accused, reaching down to pull out the hidden ribbon she had worked into her gown. The dress split on the sides, and Marinette straightened, rolling the ribbon carefully around her fingers even as she glared at him. “Admit it.”

“Admit that you have my heart? Gladly.” Luka swept a bow, and Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Don’t flatter me,” she snorted. “You’re not any good at it.”

“Shall I compliment you instead?” Luka asked pointedly, and Marinette blushed, looking away. His compliments were always far worse than his flattery, because he meant them.

“Don’t change the subject. You were worried about me,” she accused, waving a dagger like an admonitionary finger. “I can handle myself.”

“You can handle yourself, and me as well,” Luka grinned, and then softened his tone, dropping his courtly pretense. “But I’m always worried about you. That proves nothing except that I care about you.” He held up a furled parchment between them. “However, this is actually why I’m here. I also bring Lady Kagami’s thanks and her appreciation for your very convincing performance of a helpless highborn princess being carried off, although she feels it wasn’t a very accurate imitation of her.”

Marinette snorted. “Kagami could have easily handled these idiots herself if her mother wasn’t such a stick in the mud. It probably would have been more entertaining for everyone if they had managed to kidnap her.” She sheathed her dagger and took the parchment, unrolling it as she added, “I hope she sent her payment as well as her thanks.” Her lips pursed as she read, and then pushed out in a pout as she looked up at him. “Okay. That’s a good reason.”

“No point in riding all the way back just to traverse the exact same route again,” Luka agreed. “And since I was coming all this way, why not meet you at the door? I’ve stashed our supplies in a nice little campsite far enough away from this mess,” he gestured at the tower. “We can spend the night and set out in the morning.”

“We?” Marinette asked, eyebrows raising. Luka shrugged.

“I’ve no mind to let you get that far away from me for that long,” he told her, only half joking. “I’m sure there’s a noble house somewhere in the city looking for entertainment, and if not—” Luka shrugged. “Then there’s certain to be a tavern."

Marinette grimaced. “I don’t like it when you play taverns,” she muttered. “You’re far too good for that.”

“We take the pay where it comes,” Luka reminded her, plucking the parchment from her hand and tucking it back in his saddlebag.

“It doesn’t have to come with tavern wenches hanging all over you,” Marinette complained.

Luka barked a laugh. “The noble ladies are just as bad, only more subtle,” he chuckled, mounting his horse. He extended a hand down to Marinette. “Shall we? I’m sure Tikki’s getting hungry.”

Marinette looked up at his tall gelding and sighed. “I can get up myself,” she muttered, but she let Luka grip her wrist to give her a little extra boost. She landed across Sass on her belly with a small grunt, and then scrambled into place behind Luka. She could see the curve of his smile just before he faced forward.

“I’m glad you’re coming with me,” she murmured into his shoulder blades. “And I’ll gut anyone who touches you.”

“My thanks, my gallant lady protector,” Luka said, patting the hands clasped around his waist. “I need fear nothing as long as you are with me, except the hour of parting.”

Marinette huffed, her breath tickling his neck. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Luka looked over his shoulder and winked. “If my heart grew much fonder of you, you would never be rid of me.”

Marinette was silent for a moment, and then said, “Maybe I don’t want to be.” She said it very quietly, and held her breath after. Luka’s big hand covered hers again, his thumb caressing the back.

“Then maybe you should say yes the next time I propose,” came the teasing answer, and Marinette’s mouth dropped in outrage.

“You propose every time we pass a church!” she scoffed.

“Yes,” Luka agreed shamelessly. “How many churches do you think there are between here and the Jewel of the Southern Wastes ?”

“Not enough to convince me to marry you,” Marinette shot back. “I like the way things are.”

"As do I," Luka chuckled.

Marinette sniffed. "I knew you weren't serious."

"Of course I am. I will wed you the moment you say the word. But if you are content, then so am I."

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Marinette huffed.

“There, there,” Luka laughed, patting her hand before putting his own back on the reins. “We’ve a long way to go to get there, and through some pretty sketchy territory. Maybe if you’re really lucky, we’ll get robbed.”

“You think?” Marinette perked up. “Bandits?”

“Possibly even ruffians ,” Luka teased, and laughed when she smacked his shoulder.

“Ruffians are always broke,” Marinette complained. “I want bandits. I’m going to have to buy new dresses when we get there, I can’t wear dresses from the Northern court in the South. I’d look ridiculous.” Her eyes widened slightly. “Luka, what did you do with my dresses? You didn’t pack them yourself, did you? They’re much too delicate—”

“I had them professionally packed and sealed and sent to Lady Alya for safekeeping,” Luka reassured her. “I would never dare let harm come to your wardrobe.”

Marinette slumped in relief. “Oh, good.” After a moment she added, “Thank you.”

Luka lifted one of her hands from his waist and kissed the palm softly.

#quickspins #lbsc sprint fic challenge #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #quicksprints

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celiabowens · 3 years

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25 books recs from my 2020 reads

I’ve been wanting to make this post for a while, but I wanted to wait and see how my last reads of the year would go. Also, narrowing them down to 20 was a nope, so I just made a bigger list instead lol. I’ve tried to include a vague description of each book and the main trigger warnings and rep. I apologise in advance if I forgot anything (for trigger warnings, I suggest double checking on the site booktriggerwarnings).

Adult SFF

A Memory Called Empire: it feels like I’ve raved about this one enough but just in case: A Memory Called Empire is a space opera following an ambassador who suddenly finds herself in the middle of a murder mystery and a political conspiracy. It’s got brilliant world building and a nuanced and intricate reflection about culture, language and colonialism. Subtle slow burn f/f romance on the side (+ a poly relationship shown in flashbacks). TW: suicide.

Black Sun: first book in an epic fantasy series inspired by pre-columbian Americas. Great cast of characters and very interesting use of mythology + the main plot is focused on political and religious conflict and the author handles both sides of it quite well. The book has bisexual and non-binary rep, one of the main characters is blind. TW: suicide, abuse, self harm. There’s some gore, although it’s not extremely graphic.

The Sword of Kaigen: a Japanese inspired stand alone epic fantasy. The book is not focused on battle or war, although they play an important role in the plot itself, but on family dynamics and personal growth. It’s a very character driven novel, with some rather conventional elements (elemental magic) and some more original reuses of traditional fantasy tropes. TW: abuse.

Empire of Sand: first book in a duology of companion novels inspired by Mughal India. Mostly focused on religious and political conflict, although romance is heavily featured in both books. Pretty good slow burn romance in both cases. TW: abuse, slavery, torture, sexual assault, self-harm.

The Light Brigade: a rather unconventional space opera with a complex non linear narration. This is not an easy read in every possible way, but the pay off is worth it. Also it’s one of those cases in which I think it’s best to go in knowing nothing or almost nothing. TW: torture, murder, ptsd, war, gore, infectious diseases (yeah you need a strong stomach for this........).

Gods of Jade and Shadow: a coming of age story set in Mexico during the Jazz age. A bit of a lighter read, a journey-adventure featuring a god slowly becoming human, tasks to complete etc. TW: bullying.

River of Stars: more of an alternate history than pure fantasy, as most of GGK’s novels are. This one in particular was inspired by Chinese history and it’s ideally a companion to Under Heaven. Both can be read as standalones but I find their parallels and differences very interesting. I’d also recommend The Lions of Al-Rassan and A Brightness Long Ago, by the same author. All of them revisit historical events from the point of view of rather ordinary people who find themselves in the middle of events they can’t control.

Empire of Gold: the last book in a trilogy, starting with City of Brass. The first novel is more trope-y and naive in places, but I found both the second book and the conclusion of the trilogy more nuanced and satisfying. There’s a m/m relationship on the side. TW: mass murder, torture, enslavement, abuse.

Adult SFF novella edition

The Deep: novella set in an underwater society built by the descendants of African slave women that were tossed overboard. The novella deals with trauma, both personal and generational one.

This Is How You Lose The Time War: epistolary set during a time-travel war. Enemies to lovers f/f romance. Very character driven, don’t expect a lot of world building.

The Empress of Salt and Fortune: an Asian-inspired novella that gives a voice to people usually silenced by history. It follows a cleric as they chronicle the story of the late empress, retold through objects that she used in her life.

YA SFF

Return of the Thief/The Queen’s Thief series in general: the last book in the queen’s thief series! Honestly just read this series it’s literally too good? It is carefully planned from start to finish and it has politics, adventures, characters with extremely questionable morals and good banter? TW: loss of a limb, torture (not extremely graphic), ptsd.

The Kingdom of Back: probably Marie Lu’s best book yet? think of the concept of “shakespeare’s sister” as explained by Woolf in A Room of One’s Own, but with the Mozart siblings. I actually had no idea Mozart had a sister prior to reading this. It’s a quite emotional read, as it shows how little opportunities women had to be recognised for their talent.

Adult Literary Fiction

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous: a beautiful exploration of language, family history, trauma, sexuality and gender. TW: war, ptsd, death.

Augustus: an epistolary historical fiction novel narrating some of the main events of Augustus’ reign through letters from/by his closest friends and enemies. Not even remotely historically accurate, but a lot of fun to read if you’re familiar with historical accounts of that period.

A Gentleman in Moscow: following Count Alexander Rostov, who, in 1922, is sentenced to a lifetime of house arrest in the Metropol, a luxurious hotel in the center of Moscow. A peculiar novel, funny and heartbreaking at once, following a vibrant cast of characters as they come and go from Rostov’s secluded life.

How Much of These Hills Is Gold: following two recently orphaned children through the gold rush era, the book is an adventurous historical fiction piece that focuses on themes like gender, identity and immigration. TW: abuse, sexual assault, racism.

The Memory Police: published in Japan in the mid 90s, but translated recently, it’s an orwellian dystopian novel set on an unnamed Island where memories of certain objects and feelings slowly disappear.

The Nickel Boys: the book follows the lives of two boys sentenced to a reform school in Jim Crow-era Florida. A bleak, but important book, with a shocking final twist. TW: abuse, racism, death.

Manga/Graphic Novels

The Girl from the Other Side

Opus: very meta, much like most of Satoshi Kon’s movies. Kon actually never finished this (the magazine he was publishing it on was cancelled) and a last chapter was published after his death after his family found the sketches for it.

Oriental Piano: based on the story of the author’s grandfather, who invented a musical instrument in Beirut in the 1960s, combining Arabic music and a western musical instrument. Sort of reminiscent of Satrapi’s style.

Webtoons

Lore of Olympus (TW: sexual assault)

Clara and The Devil

Non Fiction

The Professor and the Madman: the peculiar and extraordinary tale behind the compilation of the Oxford English Dictionary. TW: self-harm, ptsd, war.

Honourable mentions: The Binding (TW: abuse, sexual assault, suicide. Gay rep.), The Silence of the Girls (TW: sexual assault, death, war), To Be Taught, If Fortunate (bi, ace, poly rep), The Kyoshi Novels (bi rep, f/f relationship).

#book rec #book recs #litblr #2020 reads #happy new year i guess #i read like 210 things in 2020 ain’t happening again any time soon lol

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aliynavenus · 3 years

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DamiRae Fanfic: New Years Eve

(Authors Notes: I’m late ik. Most likely won’t be that good. It was just an idea I had and ik I’m late with posting it but here it is. Don’t have high hopes. Really. My writing could be worse considering I haven’t wrote in over 4 months ahhhhh i’ll shut up so you can read and judge.)

She almost felt awkward with him being here. It’s not like it’s the first Damian has been in her room. Though this was different. They were friends, close friends in fact. Companions in which they understood each other including the bond that they shared ever since the first week they met, it may have been such a long time ago but they never felt the need to find some kind of reverse spell to erase it.

They may not have want to admit it. But they like that link shared. It was a disclosure that made them feel less lonely in their life.

“Are you sure it’s alright to go with you?” She yelled loud enough for him to hear her while he was getting dressed in her bathroom.

“Of course, it’s New years eve. You shouldn’t be alone at the tower.” his words were muffled yet she heard him.

Right. New Year’s Eve. She didn’t mind spending it alone, though Damian insisted her to come with him to his father’s annual new year’s eve charitable gala. When she denied, the next day Bruce mailed her an invitation, which surprised Damian just as much as she was.

Taking by how long she was thinking, Damian cleared his throat echoing back with hesitation “If you’d like we could stay here and not attend I can make an excuse to my Father.”

A small smile was tugging the corner of her mouth realizing how considerate he was of her. He knew her well. Knowing the dislike they both shared for over crowded meaningless parties or crowds. Although...

That wasn’t negotiable. Denying an invitation from Bruce Wayne--scratch that--The Batman was more terrifying then having to face her own damn father. “No th-that’s alright. It’ll be nice. I don’t mind going.”

That wasn’t the problem. Being seated, looking at herself in her grey vanity mirror. She felt pathetic even thinking this but she felt insecure in going. She glanced down at her off the shoulder tight maroon dress--that was obviously Donna’s-- it barely filled up her small chest. Great, just to top off her one of many insecurities for tonight. The lavish dress that Raven had no idea could even exist in Donna’s messy closet. She felt weird. If that was even the word to describe it.

Glancing at the side of her mirror she could see the small reflection of the of her bathroom door slightly open. A string of heat spread across her cheeks having a visual of Damian’s bare tan back covered in scars and bruises, some fading yet some were still fresh. His shoulders were broader, muscles taking up his biceps, he wasn’t too muscular like his father but he sure was getting there.

They may have not been together or anything like that. But she felt good when she was around him. Forgetting all the thoughts that reminded her of being a sinful demon’s daughter. He made her feel normal without even realizing it.

“You seem lost in thought.” Damian’s voice knocks her out of her thoughts, as he comes out of her bathroom. Fully dressed in simple black trousers with an olive oxford, sleeves rolled up making him look too damn irresistible. In the years she’s known him he was always the best at hiding his emotions. Never showing any sign of what he was thinking, it made her feel powerless.

It was almost if he was ready to seek girls attention, though that was never his intention. It almost bugged her even more in fact. How can he look like a god himself, without trying.

“Nope, I’m okay.” she clears her throat wanting the linger of her thoughts to disappear. She stares at his chest, noticing the small specks of Titus’s fur stuck onto it. Good thing she always had a spare lint roller in her vanity drawer. “You have some Titus’s fur on you.”

Getting up from her seat, she walks over her to him. Damian was easily a head over her, she felt so small compared to him despite her being a year older than him.

Damian’s jaw tightened as his eyes wandered around her body slowly. She didn’t want to look directly at him yet, in fact it made her knees become weak if his stare kept boring into her.

Rolling the roller on top of his chest, it wasn’t a lot but just enough to leave a clean slate. His signature scent of fresh wood and ginger corrupted her, leaving her want to be filled with his fragrance. Raven looked up at him, his eyes already staring down at her. He looked tense, almost like he was battling with his own inner thoughts that she couldn’t comprehend. His emeralds with specks of gold sprinkled onto his irises. His eyes it was like they were imprinting onto hers.

“You look beautiful.”

What? His soft voice, almost like a whisper that he didn’t want to be heard. She could have sworn that she could see a slight rush of pink onto his cheeks, to the tip of his ears. Yet he didn’t show any feature of his face of embarrassment, always hiding how to react.

She wasn’t any good in that realm. Slowly looking down to bite down a smile that was creeping on her lips. “Thank you.”

Warmth rushed up her skin, as she felt his fingers caress her forearm. His thumb running slowly back and forth as if he was taking in every part of flesh. She could practically feel his stare boring into her when she lifted her head up. Everything that was felt upon her felt gentle, his touch, his stare, everything.

If she was being honest, she’d rather stay in this moment with him. She’d rather stay at the tower with him alone. She wanted to have him touch her more. She wanted this to herself. Was it a selfish wish?

“Don’t leave my sight. I want you near me.”

Damian’s voice was a low rumble.It was more a command than a request. The words coming out clear and rough against her. It made her body feel as if it was just electrocuted. It made her feel small, not knowing what quite to say. Raven waited for him to continue. But he never did. Instead he stayed quiet, avoiding her stare that she so desperately wanted to meet.

She wanted to say something. Anything. But the words never left her lips. A silence stretched between them.

Damian’s hand left her forearm already missing the touch of his hand. She saw his hands digging into his pockets, clearing his throat. “We should go, my father is most likely waiting.”

All she was able to do was nod and walk to her grab her heels.

----------

At the gala 11:13 p.m (Been there for an hour)

She wasn’t having fun. Now that she thinks of it, she should’ve accepted his idea in staying home instead. There wasn’t anyone she knew here, all of them either being business owners to reporters to simply models from heaven.

Her insecurities were through the roof when she stepped foot in the Wayne Manor. The flashing gleaming chandelier lights, the polished floor of marble, the endless crowds of people faking smiles to each other while being handed drinks every 2 seconds. Women, even young girls dressed elegantly with beauty that was beyond compared.

Honestly did Bruce make everyone who was gorgeous attend the manor. Of course the men here were handsome too but none quite compared to Damian.

Who might she add, has been charged by the many reporters and young--next heirs to be--women who threw themselves onto him when they first got there.

Yeah. There was no way of getting near him with the herd of people surrounding him.

Raven shifted towards the wine table, azar it was new years eve she might at least try to enjoy herself. Taking a glass of filled wine, she took it in sip by sip. It may be practically impossible for her to get drunk since her powers can easily be consumed over it, she did get the euphoric pleasure for a few minutes.

Her feet ended up drifting her towards the small isolated balcony at the end of the hall. The wind was cold, but it felt fresh against her skin.

“Don’t leave my sight. I want you near me.”

She kept remembering over and over. They were simple words, but they struck her. His tone, his eyes, his short breaths, everything was so still. He processed her at that very moment, and she was ready to give in. She wanted to think the way she did, she wanted to consider maybe for one second think of the thought that maybe, just maybe he felt some sort of way towards her--

Though that wouldn't be accurate. Damian would never. Who was she kidding, truly.

“You look like you need a friend.” Turning to hear the familiar voice.

“Roy?” She was taken aback. She hasn’t seen Roy aka Arsenal since he left the Titans a year ago, going solo even though he was only a year older than her.

Turning her body following his movement as he placed himself next to her leaning against the balcony. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He chuckled, revealing his dented dimple on the side of his cheek. His simple red oxford with grey trousers complimenting his darken red ginger hair. “I should be the one saying that. Didn’t think gala’s were your thing. You’re kind of outta your element don’t ya think.”

Roy leveled the extra drink he had in his hand to her, eyeing her waiting for her to accept his drink.

A relieving sigh, her breath dusting into the cold air. “Thank you.” She took a sip, “I am out of element, Bruce invited me to come along with Damian. You?”

Roy shrugged, “Oliver’s here, half of this gala is for charity and since I’m most likely the next heir to his company he wanted me to come talk to a few business people about profits, marketing, you know.”

Raven nodded, taking another sip of the smooth flavor that danced on her tongue. She knew nothing of that but she rather pretended she did.

A silence stretched between them, “So you came with the snarky brat tonight, hmm. As a date?”

Raven almost coughed up her saliva, “N-No of course not.” she gestured her head towards Damian who was talking to a pretty tall brunette with blue eyes like Donna. “She’ll probably be a better date then I will ever be for him.”

“Oh?” He sounded intrigued. “And why do you say that?”

She couldn’t tell if the wine was kicking in, but she knew it wouldn’t last long considering her powers will only take it over. But right now she didn’t care. She turned her whole body to take the sight of Damian and the girl, “Because Roy, look at her--look at them.” She motioned towards them with the drink still in her hand, “They look like that perfect ideal couple that I see in every damn cover on Donna’s magazines. She belongs in this world. I don’t. Oh azar, I was never supposed to belong with anyone in the first place. But him, he may be snarky, stubborn, and so stupidly difficult but he belongs with good. He needs good. I’m still learning how to just be that right now.”

Her whole voice felt raw and fragile in the back of the throat, the glass that was once full of wine now was gone. Roy sighed leaning his neck back, looking up at the sky. “You and him were always so gullible.” his words were so quiet, as if it wasn’t meant to be heard. “Damian doesn’t need good. What he needs is someone to understand that weird obnoxious mind of his. You really think these females will ever understand him, understand the Al-Gual part, the Wayne part, the Titan part, the jerkoff part especially. I don’t think so, Rae.”

Raven sighed turning to face Roy. His tone, his facial features, his posture, everything seemed so easy to read off of him. He was being genuine, helpful, caring yet cautious of his words. “He really is something else.”

“Yea, a real pain in the ass too.” Roy chugged down the last ounce of whatever strong alcohol he had.

“I could say the same to you, Harper.”

Raven bit her lip when she heard Damian’s voice. Oh Azar, what happened to him talking to that girl.

Roy didn’t even look startled, keeping his stare directly at Damian. She almost forgot how much they never really could handle one another but only minerly had to tolerate each other during missions.

Damian's eyes were dark, his jaw ticked. No longer having that warm fake persona he put on for people. “Harper.”

“Wayne.” Roy nonchalantly said putting his arms up. “I didn’t do anything to her.”

“As you shouldn’t be.” The tension between their voices was like a ticking time bomb. “I’ll be taking her for now.” Damian's fingers intertwining with hers escorting her out of the balcony.

Her mind felt hazy with the sudden pull of Damian. She gave a smile waving off to Roy who was trying to hide a slick smile at them. “Happy new year, Roy”

“Happy new year’s Rae.”

--- 11:46 ---

Raven looked around where Damian was taking her, having no idea what hall they were in but was only grateful that no one was in near sight. “Where are we going?” Her mouth finally working, she suppose the wine was wearing off.

“Alone.” was the only thing that managed to leave his lips. Yet it sounded like there was more to be said. His eyes never meeting hers like he was having his own war inside of him.

He was angry.

Finally pulling them into a room on one of the highest floors. He escorted her in, turning on the dim lights behind her. The room was simple, almost no decoration, a bed in the middle, along with some simple books scattered, swords hung on the wall.

“Why am I here? It’s almost New Years shouldn’t we be downstairs.” pause. “Shouldn’t you be faking a personality for people right now.”

Yup the alcohol was still in her. Or maybe it wasn’t just the alcohol anymore.

She almost hated how annoyed her voice sounded. Though part of her drunken speech to Roy did make her hate Damian right now. Him saying she should be near him tonight when really he was the one playing distant heir the whole night.

Damian leaned back on the door crossing his arms, his jaw ticked again. His eyes were a shade darker, nothing sort of gentle behind them. “Why were you with him?”

Damian completely ignored her questions. Raven gave a dry chuckle; it only made her want to bite back, “Who? Roy? At least he was keeping me good company, rather than you being tossed around by every stranger.”

“You really don’t--” Damian stumbled, he was biting his tongue. He wanted the words to come out of him so she could easily see it. He was frustrated knowing well he wasn’t going to win against her.

“You don’t get it Raven.” pause. “I wanted to be with you this entire night like I said.” He glanced away from her, “When I told you that, you didn’t respond. I felt foolish for saying what I said to you Raven. I thought maybe I managed to push you away, I hated myself after that. Even now I hate this. I hate not knowing whatever I feel when you’re around me. Whenever your aroma consumes me, I could practically fall to my knees for you Raven.”

This couldn’t be.

Did he..?

Damian scratched the back of his neck, gesturing his hands in the air, “And when I saw you with that imbecile. God I wanted to steal you away from him, I didn’t care.”

Every step he took to her, was just a request she wanted to make to just fall before him. He gently brought his hands to cup her cheeks to look directly into his eyes. Nothing was fake, his eyes, his eyes. This was all him. Everything she’d never expect from him, “I told you to be near me tonight because you look so beautiful. I didn’t want anyone even taking the sight of you. Your too fuckin diserable even more me.”

Like her….

Tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, she wanted this, wanted him.

Bringing her fingers to wrap around his wrists, she lifted herself up to touch her lips with his. Damian’s lips were rough against hers but she liked it.

-------- 11:53 ----- (Damian's Pov)

Their lips crashing together was a different euphoric sensation he hasn’t felt. His fingers were tangled into her soft hair, running along the back of her neck. His tongue sliding across her lower lip, her taste, her stroke with her tongue mingling with his was just too damn good. He wanted to conquer every part that he could, admire her with his reach.

Every touch that he made on her made him feel unworthy, a damn perfection she was that he felt unworthy of.

Raven’s breaths were short, hot as she was having a few touches of fun of her own for him. Her fist clenching onto his shirt pulling him tighter while the other on his bicep, her touch was burning into him that he hoped would leave a mark on him.

He took in no time to trace her body downward, admiring every dip and curve on the formatious tight dress she had. Leaving small pepper kissed onto her neck, and open shoulders

Raven winced, and it was a lavish melody he wanted to hear again. Licking, and biting every part of her open bare skin displayed on him. He wanted people to know she was his. Just as she should be, just how she should have been. “Damian”

He shivered at the way his name sounded on her innocent voice. Coming back up to capture her lips he needed. He took this time to grab her thighs, lifting her up. Raven cupped the back of his neck and cheek to keep her well balanced not wanting to miss a single taste of him. His mouth dominating over hers so slowly, teasing her, biting her, over and over again.

Walking towards the bed, he seated himself so now she was on top of him. Damian pulled away for a second, he was admiring her. Hell, he was taking in every part of her, her fists bunched into his shirt surely causing wrinkles he didn’t care for, her hair becoming slightly messy but still looking so utterly perfect, her elegant dress now being bunched up revealing her velvety thighs before him. Her lips were now pouted, bigger than her normal size. Damian leaned her chin towards him coming in gently to place small kisses on the small bruises on her lips that were faded from his bites.

He was known to be rough yet she didn’t seem to mind at all for him.

“You are too good for me, my beloved.”

Damian could feel her goosebumps form on her arms, he tried hiding his smile from her. Raven only managed to shake her head, causing Damian to run a lingering touch on her back, “Tell me you’ll let me stay by your side, Raven”

Raven let out a relieved laugh, her iris eyes lighting up with bliss. It was a sight he’d love to see over and over if he can. “Don’t leave it and I won’t leave yours.”

Grabbing side of her cheek, fiddling with her hair. He wanted nothing more than to stay by her side for as long as she’ll let him. He cared--no--treasured her.

All his life he understood everything, there was never a question or puzzle he couldn’t solve. Everything was simple for him.

But her. Raven.

Damian was never able to understand, he felt sinful when he had thoughts about her, thoughts about them simply being together. He didn’t think she’d accept him then more than a teammate. He was fucked up. He never saw her as a weapon that was destined to be.

She was pure to him. A soul to protect. To keep safe.

Shouts and bottles of corks were muffled through the room hearing everyone chanting happy new years. He stared back at her running small circles on her back. “I promise, Happy New Year, my love.”

Bringing his lips to collide again with hers. Raven chuckled, against him. “Happy New Year”

Now the only thoughts left were wondering how in the hell were they going to manage to keep this a secret from the team and his father.

#damirae #finally a fanfic that i made with no smut #who would have thought??#im most likely going to write a smut one soon anyway #this is trash #im trash #damian wayne #rachel roth #raven #dc #fanficfion #demonbirds #ik

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