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#it has me sobbing every time your honour

suzannahnatters · 8 months

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Let Your Knights Weep

One of the big things I've had to train myself out of when writing medieval historical fiction?

The stiff upper lip.

This used to really bewilder my editor, who for some time attempted to nudge me away from having my grown men weep and wail and blubber, but for me it's an essential part of the setting. Whether in grief or fear, medieval people did not hold things back.

Here are some of my favourite quotes to explain.

First, a couple from two great 20th century medievalists:

CS Lewis in his Letters put it this way:

“By the way, don't 'weep inwardly' and get a sore throat. If you must weep, weep: a good honest howl! I suspect we - and especially, my sex - don't cry enough now-a-days. Aeneas and Hector and Beowulf, Roland and Lancelot blubbered like schoolgirls, so why shouldn't we?”

Dorothy Sayers, in her fabulous Introduction to her translation of THE SONG OF ROLAND, speaking of Charlemagne discovering Roland's body on the battlefield:

Here too, I think we must not reckon it weakness in him that he is overcome by grief for Roland’s death, that he faints upon the body and has to be raised up by the barons and supported by them while he utters his lament. There are fashions in sensibility as in everything else. The idea that a strong man should react to great personal and national calamities by a slight compression of the lips and by silently throwing his cigarette into the fireplace is of very recent origin. By the standards of feudal epic, Charlemagne’s behaviour is perfectly correct. Fainting, weeping, and lamenting is what the situation calls for. The assembled knights and barons all decorously follow his example. They punctuate his lament with appropriate responses:

By hundred thousand the French for sorrow sigh; There’s none of them but utters grievous cries.

At the end of the next laisse:

He tears his beard that is so white of hue, Tears from his head his white hair by the roots; And of the French an hundred thousand swoon.

We may take this response as being ritual and poetic; grief, like everything else in the Epic, is displayed on the heroic scale. Though men of the eleventh century did, in fact, display their emotions much more openly than we do, there is no reason to suppose that they made a practice of fainting away in chorus. But the gesture had their approval; that was how they liked to think of people behaving. In every age, art holds up to us the standard pattern of exemplary conduct, and real life does its best to conform. From Charlemagne’s weeping and fainting we can draw no conclusions about his character except that the poet has represented him as a perfect model of the “man of feeling” in the taste of the period.

OK, now let's dig into some quotes that I found just in Christopher Tyerman's Chronicles of the First Crusade and Joinville's Life of St Louis:

Truly you would have grieved and sobbed in pity when the Turks killed any of our men....

As for the knights, they stood about in a great state of gloom, wringing their hands because they were so frightened and miserable, not knowing what to do with themselves and their armour, and offering to sell their shields, valuable breastplates and helmets for threepence or fivepence or any price they could get....

When Guy, who was a very honourable knight, had heard these lies, he and all the others began to weep and to make loud lamentation....

They stayed in the houses cowering, some some for hunger and some for fear of the Turks....

Now at vigils, the time of trust in God’s compassion, many gave up hope and hurriedly lowered themselves with ropes from the wall-tops; and in the city soldiers, returning from the encounter, circulated widely a rumour that mass decapitation of the defenders was in store. To add weight to the terror, they too fled…

In the course of that day’s battle there had been many people, and of fine appearance too, who had come very shamefully flying over the little bridge you know of and had fled away so panic-stricken that all our attempts to make them stay with us had been in vain. I could tell you some of their names, but shall refrain from doing so, because they are now dead.

I could go on looking for quotes in all the other medieval literature I've read, but that would be beyond the scope of this Tumblr post.

In the meantime, this leads me to make some comments on how trauma was perceived.

In Jonathan Riley-Smith's The First Crusade and the Idea of Crusading, the author discusses the mental breakdowns suffered by the first crusaders during the second siege of Antioch, which caused many of them to flee at the moment of direst need:

In these stressful circumstances it is not surprising that the crusaders were often very frightened. At times, indeed, they seem to have been almost paralysed by a terror that they themselves could hardly comprehend. … When the crusade was bottled up in Antioch by Kerbogha's relief force it was gripped by such blind panic that there was the prospect of a mass break-out and on the night of 10 or 11 Juney 1098 Bohemond and Adhemar had the gates of the city closed. It is worth noting that many of those whom later chroniclers, writing after the events in comparative comfort in Europe, vilified for cowardice and desertion seem to have been treated more charitably by their fellow-crusaders, who must have understood what pressures they had been under.

In conclusion: the way we feel about things today in the English-speaking isn't necessarily the way people felt about things in the past (and this goes for other cultures, real or imagined, too). I'm continually catching myself writing people with stiff upper lips and emotional reservations, and having to remind myself that the culture was different back them. If a grown man wanted to weep, he could. That's a good thing. (Oh, and my medieval historical fantasy? Check out the Watchers of Outremer series on Amazon or wherever books are sold!)

#history #writing #historical fiction #medieval history #medieval #middle ages #historical #masculinity #history of masculinity #toxic masculinity

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toastermuffles · 23 days

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Back on Tumblr to say that I miss so much when It was just Ramon and Fit against the world.

Only living for each other.

Ramon was (in my humble opinion) the loneliest egg. He would often only wake up once or twice a week. And when he did he was always with Fit. He would never wake up if he wasn't there too, especially after his nightmare.

And Fit was one of the loneliest islanders. Often keeping to himself. Only sharing his true feelings and secrets with Ramon. He knew why he was there so he didn't bother making strong connections with people. Phil was his closest friend, although they had known each other before the island.

No one really understood Fit and Ramon's relationship. No one knew how strong and beautiful it was (still is). No one knew about the games of hide and seek or the lullabies every night. On the surface it was father and son but it was so much more.

The fact that they keep to themselves so much is also what makes their relationship so special. Because you can only start to understand it from their perspective.

I remember back in purgatory when all the other parents were calling out their kids names and the only one calling Ramon's name was Fit. His dad. The first person he learnt to love and who loved him back. His little boy.

(Bro that has me genuinely SOBBING every time I think about it)

The only one who cared about Ramon was Fit, doing everything he could in his power to make sure his son had a chance of survival. Of being picked. And Ramon in purgatory was constantly asking where Fit was, so concerned about his dad being alone.

That's also part of the reason why Ramon liked the idea of Pac so much. He was all Fit had and vice versa. If one of them were to go missing again they would be truly alone.

THEY WERE MADE FOR EACH OTHER YOUR HONOUR. DESTINY DUO FOR LIFE-

#fitmc #qsmp #qsmp fitmc #qsmp fit #fitmc qsmp #qsmp ramon #ramon qsmp #fypage

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alloftheimagines · 1 year

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joel miller | left behind

masterlist | taglist | ko-fi

words: 2.9k

warnings: angst, angst, angst. so much angst. ep two spoilers. tess's death. grief. loss. infected stuff. reader is tess's younger sister. age gap. more angst. so much angst. slightly violent reader.

synopsis: in which joel honours a promise he made to tess that means he must force reader to leave your infected sister behind in boston. resentment and a bit of hurt/comfort ensues as you head to frank and bill's.

sibling!tess x reader, reader x joel, little bit of reader x ellie

tags: @sweetbabygirlsworld

“Holy shit. She’s infected.”

You didn’t think the world could fall apart twice, but you look at Tess as Ellie's words settle in and realise you were wrong. Here you are again, losing everything. This time, you don’t know if you can survive.

“Tess…” you whisper, shaking your head slowly. “No. No. No.”

Beside you, Joel is deadly still. He looks at your sister with such detachment that you want to scream. This is Tess. Fucking Tess.

But you know him. You know he’s good at switching off when things get tough. Not like you. You wear your heart on your damn sleeve, and you can’t fucking do this. You look at her again, heart breaking. You feel every tear, every shard slipping through your ribcage. Tess is motionless — resigned. She wears sadness, but no fear. None anybody but you can see, anyway. You grew up with her. You can see the fading light in her eyes in a way the others won’t.

And you don’t know what to do.

“Let me see it,” Joel orders quietly.

“Joel…” Tess pleads.

“Show me,” he growls.

Bitterly, she tears down the collar of her shirt, revealing the infection blossoming across bruised veins. Your knees threaten to buckle, nausea rising in your throat.

“No.” Tears slip down your cheeks, and you’re already searching the room again for some hint the Fireflies might have left, some sign that it won’t end like this. “No. The girl is a cure. If we can just—”

Tess is saying your name. You’re not listening. If you listen, it will be real. If you listen, you will have to say goodbye to the only family you have left.

“Joel,” she’s saying now. “This kid… this kid is real, okay? You gotta get her, get them both, to Tommy’s. He’ll know where to go, what to do.”

“No. No, I’m not doing that,” he replies.

You’re still rattling around, searching old papers and nooks for something, anything; as though you’ll find a miracle in the shadows.

“If not for the kid then for her.” Tess’s voice rises. You squeeze your eyes shut, your back turned to her. “She needs you, Joel. This is the end of the road for me, but you need to keep going. Promise me."

“I’m not leaving you here!” you shout, throwing the first thing you find against the wall. It smashes to dust. “We’ll find a way out of this, Tess. We always fucking do. Let’s just stop and figure it out!”

“There is no figuring it out.” Tess marches over to you, gripping your face in her hands. You try so hard to fight it, so hard to stay in denial, but you look at her drawn face and know she’s already half-gone. You know the worry furrowing her brows isn’t for herself, but for you. For what will happen to you now. She practically raised you, toughening you up or else cradling you through the bad nights, never any in between. It made you both strong and so unbearably weak. Not like Joel, who has never let anything touch him.

You choke on a sob and close your eyes. “Please, Tess. Please. This can’t be it. I need you.”

“I need you. I need you to be safe. I need you to keep going. Please, sweetheart.” She softens, brushing the tears from your eyes. “Please. For me.”

“No—”

The sound of moans and the shuffling of uneven footsteps interrupt your protest. Joel goes to the window and curses, readying his gun. “Infected. Shit tonne of ‘em. We gotta go.”

You grab Tess’s wrist without thinking. “Come on.”

But she slips out of your grasp, stepping away from all of you. Ellie has tears in her eyes, but she says nothing, looking for the first time not to Tess or Joel, but to you.

“I can buy you some time, but you have to run. You have to go,” Tess whispers.

You shake your head again, ferociously this time. “No. No, I’m not leaving. If you stay, I stay.”

She snaps her head away. “Joel. Get her out of here.”

You fight back a bitter scoff, fists curling at your sides — but then hands lock around your arms, nudging you away. “Come on," Joel grunts. "We have to go. Now.”

The betrayal stings. This is fucking Tess. Of all people, he should want to help her. He shouldn’t be giving up on her.

You snarl, “Fuck you if you think I’m going anywhere!”

He doesn’t let up, face carved from stone. “We can’t stay,” he hisses, ducking his head to meet your eye. “You want us all to die?”

“You go! I’m not—”

“Now, Joel!” Tess is yelling. “Get her the fuck out of here now!”

He swears under his breath again and then his arms are like a vice around your waist, your feet lifting from the floor as he drags you away, kicking and screaming.

“No!” You’re shrieking now, vocal cords ripping apart as you try to reach for your sister. "Tess!"

But she doesn’t reach back. She turns away, and you know with certainty it’s the last time you’ll see her face.

“Tess, please!” Sobs erupt from you, and you fight harder now, but Joel is too strong, too broad, too heavy-handed to let you go. “Please! Please! Let me go! Let me stay with her! She's my fucking sister, Joel!”

The fresh air hits you all at once. One moment you’re there, watching your sister get smaller and smaller as infected scratch and rattle the doors, and then you’re back in the rubble of the drab city, the gold dome of Massachusetts State House dwindling.

And then exploding.

As your feet finally hit the floor and you try to nudge Joel away, the earth cracks with black smoke and you’re thrown to the ground. Joel’s warmth shields you, and you feel Ellie trembling at your side.

Silence blankets you like ash. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend it. Any of it.

You shove Joel to look back at the State House. The building that is no longer a building, just debris and fire.

The building where your sister was standing not a moment ago.

“No.” You say the word differently now. Softer. Devastation pierces through it, through you. She’s gone. Tess is gone.

“Darlin’...” Joel puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes, and fury sparks through you.

“You did this!” you scream, hitting his chest again, and again and again. “You took away my choice!” Because the truth is, you would sooner have died in there with Tess than carry on without her. “You took away my fucking sister!” Because he’d gotten her into the jobs, the smuggling. He’d done all of this.

Joel doesn’t react, barely even budging as you slam into him. His jaw is set, trembling, throat bobbing, and finally he catches your hands and locks his fingers around your wrists. “Look at me.”

You can’t. You can’t look at him, or anywhere else. You want to vomit. You want to disappear.

Instead, your chin wobbles and your ribcage opens up and everything pours out of you as you wail.

He catches you as you sink to the ground, pulling you to his chest, and you’re too weak to push him away now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, rocking you gently. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. There was nothing else we could do. Nothing else I could do. But look at me. Please look at me.” He grips your jaw just as Tess had, and you flinch. You hate him. You fist his shirt between your fingers and you want to destroy it, destroy everything around him.

Except you don’t. He’s all you have left, and the realisation makes you numb. Joel fucking Miller is the only goddamn person you have.

You do as he asks. You look at him.

“She bought us time," he says. "We can’t waste it now. Do you understand? We can grieve her later, but right now, we gotta go. We have to get up and keep going. For Tess.”

You hate that he’s right most of all. As you begin to shut down, shock taking over, you look back at the smoking State House and stand. And then you clutch Joel’s collar and bare your teeth.

Ellie stumbles towards you, eyes round with fear, but you’ve lost the will to care about her presence. You’ve lost everything today.

“Don’t you fucking say her name again,” you snap. “You lost that right. I blame you. I blame you for who she became, who we’ve all become.”

Anguish curls across Joel’s features, but you refuse to feel guilty. You let him go roughly and grab your backpack off the floor, the same one you’d clutched during the outbreak just after you’d watched your parents get savaged by your infected neighbours, Tess dragging you to safety. You’d been thirteen years old, and your sister had gotten you through hell and back, that night and every other one that came after.

“It shouldn’t have ended like this,” you whisper into the wind, swallowing your own tears.

It’s the last moment you allow yourself to have, and then you wipe your damp cheeks and glare down at Joel again.

“Get up. Let’s go.”

He does, looking winded as he rises from his knees to his feet. You allow him to lead the way only because he knows the city, knows his way around, far better than you did. Tess rarely let you do jobs out of the QZ, protective until the bitter fucking end.

You wish more than anything you could have protected her.

***

You don’t get the chance to catch your breath again until you get to Bill and Frank’s — which is empty. You never met them yourself, but you know Tess warmed to them, so to find them dead too… it feels like the last piece of good in the world is truly gone. You slump onto their couch still wrapped in numbness as Joel and Ellie gather supplies, reluctant to so much as look at you. Later, you hear them talking about showering, and Ellie thumps up the stairs, leaving the place quiet. You should wash, too. You should eat, drink, prepare for whatever comes next, but you can’t move. Can’t do anything.

After minutes, or perhaps hours, of silence, Joel kneels in front of you with a plate of food. “You need to eat, darlin'. I know it’s hard, but you have to.”

You hate him calling you that. He never used to call you that. He barely addressed you at all, stubborn, grumpy old man he is. But he’s been family for a long time, and the three of you…

You got by together. Until now.

You glance down at the food and your stomach turns.

“Please,” he whispers, voice cracking. It surprises you, that vulnerability bleeding into his words — and it seems to surprise him too, by the look on his face. You’ve never seen him like this. Not once.

You take a bite for that alone. It’s dry in your mouth, and you find it hard to swallow, so you push the rest away. He sighs and puts it down on the coffee table, swapping the plate for his flask. You take a swig, whiskey burning like vinegar in your throat.

“If I talk,” he asks, “will you listen?”

“No,” you answer honestly. “No, I don’t feel much like listenin’, Joel.”

Still, he takes your hand. You glare at your intertwined fingers but make no move to pull away. Perhaps part of you still needs to be coddled, taken care of the way Tess might have.

And maybe you need to know you’re not alone. That he isn’t going to give up on you the way he so easily did with Tess. Which is sick, you know, but you’ve never much been able to help the way you feel about him. The way you have always wanted to peel away his layers and understand him. Tear away his self-hatred, guilt, grief, for whatever horrors he faced before.

“I didn’t want this. Not for Tess and sure as hell not for you.”

“I told you,” you bit. “I told you not to say her name.”

“I made a promise to her a long time ago.” He continued as though you hadn’t spoken, his brown eyes pleading. “I promised that if something happened to her, I would always protect you. That’s what I did today. I was honouring that promise, and honouring your sister. If you need someone to blame, someone to hate, if that makes it easier, go ahead. But don’t think for a second that this was a choice I wanted to make. I cared about her. I care about you. And even if I have to drag you kickin’ and screamin’, I’m getting you to Wyoming, to Tommy. You and I still have a job to do.” Slowly, as though unsure how you’ll react, he tucks your hair behind your ear. “That kid needs us, but we need her a hell of a lot more if the cure is real. And I… I need you. I need you here with me, safe. I ain’t losing another…”

He bows his head, words thickening. “I ain’t going back on my promise to Tess, so you can make it difficult as you like. You can never lay your damn eyes on me again. But I’m getting you through this.”

A tear drips down your cheek, your entire body trembling as the sorrow, the grief, finally takes over.

“Oh, baby,” Joel whispers, voice full of the same loss, the same pain.

A whimper escapes you as you put your head in your hands. You can’t even hate him now, because you can imagine your martyr of a sister asking Joel to do just that. To protect you above all else. Still, you despise it — despise that your choices were taken away, your voice ignored.

“I should have been with her,” you say. “She shouldn’t have died alone.”

“She died knowing you were being taken care of.” He squeezes your knee with rough hands. “She died knowing she saved us. It’s the best anyone could’a done. I wish it could have been different.”

“I don’t know how to do this without her,” you admit, because how can you keep it all in? All the love you had for her, all that grief… where will you put it when it’s spilling out of you without warning?

“That’s something we’ll figure out,” Joel responds. He’s drawing circles into your lower thigh now, the pad of his thumb wearing down your denim jeans slowly. Wearing you down slowly. “You should take a shower then see about finishing your food. That hot water… it’ll help. And I won’t be mad if you use it all before I get my turn.” He offers you a small smile.

But you can’t imagine anything ever helping. You close your eyes, sinking back into the couch. “In a minute. I just need…” You don’t know what you need. If you’re being honest, you need Tess.

As though knowing it, Joel rises, the couch cushions dipping with his weight beside you. He lets out a soft sigh, fidgeting with his fingers. You feel the weight of his gaze on the side of your face.

A moment later, he’s draping a blanket over you, and your lids flutter open again in confusion.

“S’okay,” Joel says. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go.”

You don’t need to be told twice. But when you try to nod off, you only see Tess burned on the inside of your eyelids. Her face the last time you saw it. The bite. Her pleas for you to go.

You give up quickly, aware Joel is still beside you, unmoving. It isn’t like him to not be moving.

Rubbing your face, you sit up, pushing the blanket off. “Joel…”

“Hmm?”

“Blaming you... it doesn't make it fucking easier. I understand why you did what you did, even if I don’t like it. But if you ever take away my choice again… I won’t go on with you. I can’t. I know you and Tess still see me… saw me,” you correct with a wince, “as a kid, but I’m not. Not anymore. And I sure as hell ain’t your responsibility.”

“I don’t see you as a kid,” he says quietly. “And I don’t see you as my responsibility, either. Honestly?” He purses his lips, tapping on the arm of the couch before he continues, “I see you as the only damn thing worth going out of my way to protect. Make of that what you will. Just… don’t expect me to let you die if that’s your choice. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I won’t apologise for it, either.”

You’re not sure what to say to that; what it means. Why Joel, of all people, is the one to say it. You always thought he and Tess…

“Why? That promise mean so fucking much?”

“Yeah." He looks at you as though for the first time. "Yeah, it does."

You don’t have the energy to wonder what it means anymore. Instead, you pull yourself up on unsteady feet. Your mind is racing, and that shower is sounding better as reality sets in. Just in time, Ellie returns with damp hair and fresh clothes. She offers a small, reassuring smile, and you ruffle her hair, feeling guilty that a fourteen-year-old was subjected to everything you went through in Boston. Whoever she is, whatever purpose people want her to serve… she’s just a kid, and you couldn’t hold it together for her today. That makes you a shitty chaperone.

“My turn,” you mumble, glancing at Joel a final, wary time before heading upstairs. His expression doesn’t change, but you see something new in it now. Something strange.

Something that looks an awful lot like care.

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silentmoths · 1 year

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Big 👀 Energy

In which moth vomits their horny thoughts on their skrunklies at 4am on christmas eve instead of sleeping.

Ft: Zhongli, Childe & Capitano.

NSFW, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, size difference, monsterfucking, exhibitionism if you squint?

Merry christmas, heathens.

Zhongli

Oh he absolutely knows every possible way to overwhelm you, and he’ll employ every method. Words? Touch? Taste? His massive dick? All of it.

He’s not personally satisfied until you’re trying to claw away from it all, overstimulated and overwhelmed. He’ll let you try and shimmy away from him…only for a little while.

That’s when he turns all sickly sweet, when he bears down and lavishes your neck and shoulders with kisses, strong hands gripping at your hips as he pulls you right back down and onto his cock, grinding deep and slow.

Usually, Zhongli is a gentle, attentive lover. It’s just that sometimes? Sometimes there’s that cruel streak in him, the kind that wants to reduce his partners to nothing but a sobbing, writhing mess, the less coherent, the better.

Only made worse by the fact he can change his size, both in frame and in girth. If you thought his human cock was more than enough, you’ve not met Morax.

And on very rare occasions…the Morax’s. Dragon’s are sometimes known for having more than one dick after all. One bullying your insides while the other grinds against your overstimulated clit? Yikes.

What’s worse? This asshole hasn't even Cum yet.

He has warned you, about the times he seems to simply…vanish for several days, he never tells you where he’s going, but you know why. As much as he loves the concept of pinning you down and breeding you full of his kin…a dragons rut might still be a little too much for a human.

“Where are you off to,darling? We’ve barely gotten started.”

Childe

Childe is a strange one, sometimes he can be the biggest, doofiest, golden retriever of a boyfriend….and sometimes he can be a horrifying horndog…

Sometimes it’s both at once.

Splitting you apart on his cock all while he moans his pleasure into your ear or into your mouth, kissing at your overstimulated tears.

He’s both an intense lover, and a multiple-rounds kinda dude, he’s not satisfied after nutting just once, oh no, he needs more than that.

However, he’s all about making sure you’ve cum first, usually multiple times before he’s even willing to allow himself his first orgasm. All things considered, he has amazing control.

Professional puppy-eyes pouter.

He also just loves to hear you beg. Beg to let you take a break, beg for ‘no more’ with that pretty little voice and those dewey, teary eyes.

Really you should have learnt by now that all that’s going to do is make him somehow harder.

Sometimes, after a particularly rough day, he finds himself slipping, just a little, his delusion becoming more prevalent. He likes watching you jolt with his little shocks.

Don't worry, even when he’s slightly manic like this, he always has your safety well in mind, as well as the safeword. Always honour the safeword.

Childe has made it no secret that he desperately wants to fuck you while he’s in his foul legacy form, but you’ve both agreed that, as of right now, that shit would tear you apart.

“C’mon baby, one more for me? Yeah? Maybe two? No? Oh come on, you’re so pretty when you come though!”

Capitano

This man. This man can, and will, use you as his personal fucktoy, if thats the mood he’s in.

Man’s is so fuckn big he’s like a monolith standing beside you, and there’s nothing to stop him from wrapping a single hand around your waist and manhandling you onto his equally massive dick.

However, he’s not that cruel.

You are one of the only people who know that while yes, his nails are more like claws…he has two that he always, religiously, clips and files.

There’s other uses for that harbinger-issued coat of his…like hiding you within it so he can work you open on those two fingers until you’re a shaking, drooling mess. He doesn’t care where he is; at home? A harbinger meeting? His office? If the mood strikes him, he’s reaching out and pulling you into the depths of that damned coat.

You’re not actually complaining, but damn if trying to keep quiet isnt difficult.

Not many people can claim to understand anything capitano does, it’s impossible to get a read on him from beneath his helmet, but you’ve come to learn, all thing’s considered, he’s actually a very gentle lover.

He does things like grab you and manhandle you like he’s going to do nothing but take. Take hard and take fast…but then he does quite the opposite, slowly grinding his massive cock inside you, it’s excruciating sometimes, but you can't say he’s ever left you unsatisfied.

Sore? Oh yeah. Struggling to walk for the next day? Absolutely. Head empty, no thoughts but that huge schlong doing it again? Always.

"...again."

#Silentmothwrites #moth is not silent #Genshin Zhongli #Genshin Childe #Genshin Capitano #Zhongli x reader #Childe x reader #Capitano x reader #Zhongli x reader smut #Childe X reader smut #Capitano x reader smut #childe smut #zhongli smut #capitano smut

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earthtooz · 2 years

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gojo satoru x reader, MAJOR hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, i just hope i did this blurb justice. NOT EDITED

imagine... gojo saving his s/o mere moments from death and the desperation that follows.

you'd been sent on a mission together, which the special grade sorcerer was very excited for initially since he gets to kick spirit ass with the love of his life. besides, with your help, the mission would be finished much faster and when you're done, he can take you out to a fancy restaurant with the bank he makes by being a sorcerer of his calibre.

not that you don't make bank yourself, but gojo likes to idea of being your 'sugar daddy', even though you tell him that 'it's weird'.

but one thing goes wrong and all of a sudden, you're in the hands of the enemy, helpless and frantic as every card up your sleeve falls to the floor- paralysed to your spot as the curse swallows your every last chance of survival.

this was it and the flash of your life hits you.

violently, too, like a really hard sensation rips through your side, the wind blows against you roughly and you thought that it'd be a little more peaceful- oh wait no, that's gojo picking you up and phasing away.

suddenly every curse has been obliterated and you're overcome with emotions that numb your being. you want to scream, sob, throw up, shake the anxiety away, crawl into a hole and hibernate.

gojo does all of the above for you.

"i thought- i thought- i thought that was it. i thought that was the end," he whispered, frantically cradling your face, hands moving everywhere along your body to make sure that you were still with him.

neither of you have the words to continue, panting together with mismatched breaths and worry-blown eyes. he eagerly ripped his own blindfold off, eyes proceeding to desperately scan every inch of your face and soul, as if gojo was trying to get a better grasp of your cursed energy in reassurance that you were still here.

once it becomes too much, he breaks down with a sob, falling to his knees at your feet as his tears ricochet onto the ground below him, holding onto your hands like they were his lifeline, a piece of you that you could sacrifice to purify his flaws and failures.

he leans his forehead onto your hands, trying to ground his breathing as he holds onto you tightly, as if making sure you couldn't slip through his fingers as delicately as last time.

"i thought- i really thought that you were going to-" gojo can't even finish his sentence before crying again, wheezing and sobbing uncontrollably, "you can't do that to me, y/n, you can't."

his voice breaks as the sorcerer looks up at you with a pool of emotion, expression vulnerable as if he was begging you to look into the fragile state of his heart because it was yours and yours his being would forever be. he surrendered to you, the miracle that has entered his life and forever changed it for the better. he surrendered to you, his lover who he'd go to any lengths for. gojo satoru, the honoured one, surrendered to you because he can sacrifice his measly pride if it means he's guaranteed another day by your side, in a safe haven he never thought he would need.

"you can't pull that on me y/n, y/n, y/n," he shakes as he repeats your name over and over again, whispering it so sacredly as if it were the only word he knew; a mantra that would fix the damage within him at seeing the most important person in his life almost- almost- almost-

you sink to his level with gleaming eyes, tears woefully streaming down your face to join his ones on the concrete below. holding his face oh so gently, you shakily smile, "satoru, i'm okay. i'm okay because of you."

he can't help the sob that rips through him as you lean to press a kiss to his temple, allowing gojo to find solace in your collarbone. he clings onto your clothes so tightly, still desperately searching for the extra reassurance that he didn't fail, not again.

"you can't, y/n, out of all people, it can't be you," he heaves, voice growing softer and breaths growing calmer the longer you hold the delicate man.

"we're okay, satoru, and we'll be okay for a long time."

haha you're so cute when you tell me if you liked that 😁😁 pls reblog... or follow... or like... please?

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x reader hurt/comfort #gojo angst #gojo x reader angst #gojo x reader fluff #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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lifeiskentastic · 8 months

Text

Ken is jealous of gn!Reader (but for absolutely no reason)

Gif by @chriswevans

A/N: Dear anons, I am ofc a lazy asshole, but sooner or later I will answer every request, I promise (if I don't, you can burn me in hell);

Summary: gn!Reader interacts with the Other Ken, unaware of the destructive effect it has on Ken. So destructive that he even tore his bandana (but almost immediately sewed it back on)!

Word count: 711 words;

Enjoy!

Ken was very angry. Ken was very, very angry, irritated, furious and hurt. The whole world had suddenly become one big pile of injustice, betrayal and dishonour. Except for the horses, of course.

Every few minutes he sighed sorrowfully, and every few seconds he remembered you and held back angry tears. How could you talk to Another Ken when you already had one? Ken irratable kicked the sand with his foot, but missed and nearly fell backwards. This made him even angrier.

Ken fell rather than sit down on the sun-warmed sand, his head down on his folded arms in despair. It was too heavy because of... Well, because of the heavy thoughts. Ken couldn't stop replaying in his head that unbearably awful moment when he caught you talking to Another Ken.

His heart, soul, and the bandana he was clutching in his hands with all his fury were bursting at the seams (especially the bandana) as he remembered your laughter. No, your laughter itself was just a wonderful, sonorous sound, the best sound for Ken's ears! The problem was that this charming giggle was caused by a Ken. The Other Ken.

"Hello!”

“Ha-ha... Oh, Ken, hi!"

And then the Other Ken dared to speak to you again, without giving poor Ken a chance to get a word in. So he ran away leave with his head held high, went to the beach, sat down on the shore and began to sob with bitter nostalgia, remembering the pleasure of his time with you.

Ken would have sulked until dawn if you hadn't come to his hunched figure.

“Ken?”

He didn't answer. In fact, he showed no signs of life at all. Except for resentment, of course.

You sat down next to him, trying to look into his eyes. But Ken's head was turned a perfect 180 degrees away from you.

“If this is about Ken, there's something you need to know.”

Ken's heart dropped to his heels when he heard what he clearly least wanted to hear.

“Actually, he and I have been discussing...”

Ken squeezed his eyes shut as if he was about to be hit. The most insane versions of your words were swarming through his head, but none of them came close to reality. To the raw, harsh reality...

“We were talking about a film night for you.”

“What?”

Ken's eyelids fluttered shut, and he didn't even notice how he jerked his head in your direction. And when he did... Well, judging by his wry grimace as he looked at your adored treacherous face with pain, his resentment was quite deep. However, after the words "movie night", another terrible monster awoke inside Ken: curiosity.

"Yes, silly, me and the other Kens were planning to have a film party dedicated to horses. In your honour. And it was supposed to be a surprise!”

Try as he might, Ken was too happy to hide his big smile. A film? In his honour? Horses?!

Ken stared at you with the most devoted look possible as his smile grew bigger and bigger. In his pleasantly surprised eyes, you could clearly read "I'm sorry I thought bad things about you (but it was your fault too)". And perhaps somewhere in the secret corners of Ken's unexplored soul, the thought crept in that the Other Ken might not be such a scoundrel after all. But, of course, those were just the secret corners of his unexplored soul and nothing more.

However, even after bringing Ken back to a more positive mental state, you still needed to hear something very important from him:

“Ken, do you... Do you forgive me? I should have told you about my intentions earlier...”

Ken was looking at you with a bit of disbelief, although you could tell from his convulsively trembling lips that he was using all the possible and impossible powers of his plastic facial expressions to keep from smiling.

“Well, if you tell me when the party is, I might forgive you.”

Ken was far from an actor, and you could tell by the way he pouted when he barely found the control not to turn his head towards you again.

“Of course! Tonight.”

In the end, Ken not only forgave you, but also hugged you uncontrollably.

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justminawrites · 19 days

Text

None of you understand Amber Bennett: She's just a girl, your honour. A review of the show writers' least favourite love story from Invincible season 1.

Now let me just preface this by saying I have 2 points to make. Just two, very long, super rambly points that does have mild spoilers for Invincible season 2. Read at your own risk.

Point 1: Amber isn't "understanding" enough is utter bullshit.

There’s no indication that civilians outside of the ones associated with the GDA have any idea how brutal fights are for superheroes. Amber quite literally has no idea what the hell Mark is going through, even after the superhero reveal. The only thing she has a smidgeon of understanding of is his dad beating his ass on live TV. And even that is a heavy maybe because we don’t know how much of the fight the cameras could cover and how much was broadcast to the general public.

Point 2: Amber’s dated Losers before.

This is stated explicitly in canon, she's “been down that road." Furthermore, she’s also the daughter of a single-parent household. She used to hang out a community centre as a kid because her mom did late hours. Daddy Issues anyone? She’s got a lot of her own problems that we never get to unpack or linger on because the writing decided she wasn’t going to end up with Mark.

What if she’d already dated an absolute bastard before Mark? Someone who seemed sweet and genuine at first, but then he started slacking. He’d be late to dates, stop taking an interest in anything she did, and just never show up for her in any way that mattered. Amber would make up excuses with her friends and family, oh he’s busy, he’s studying; he cares, I swear, he just has a strange way of showing it.

Her friends and family don’t believe her completely but they humor her because she really seems to like him. And the ex-boyfriend isn’t a douchebag the whole time.. he brings gifts to make up for being late, he plies and pacifies her with honeyed words and promises to be better.

But each time the lies get more and more difficult to believe. Traffic and science projects, traffic and science projects, even when he shows up smelling like weed and alcohol. Her friends and family give her tight-lipped smiles when her ex-boyfriend gives her sloppy kisses and proclaims over and over “She’s too good for me, this one.”

She tries to be empathetic, she tries to be understanding when they’re alone, he can tell her what it is that’s wrong. But every-time she brings up giving them some space, he takes it as an indication of her not believing him and he guilts her with one sob story or another— she knows him, he was so gentle and respectful before they started dating, does she really think he’d do this to her if he didn’t have a good reason? Just a masterclass in gaslighting. So she gives him a second chance, third chance, fourth even.

But then he begins cheating on her. Whenever she confronts him about it, he plays victim and accuses her of being “crazy” even though the entire school knows otherwise. She catches him one fine day, and dumps him on the spot. For a short while, Amber’s very proud of this but as time passes she starts to feel extremely embarrassed that it took that long for her to catch on.

No one blames her, of course, but they all say something along the lines of “We never liked him anyway” which makes Amber doubt the perception of him she had. She internalises their support as a failing on her part to be vigilant, she didn’t want to end up making the same mistakes as her mom, after all.

Amber becomes guarded. She doesn’t entertain male attention (from Todd, for example) but then she finds out resident wimp Mark Grayson takes a beating for her and she feels bad.

So she gives him a chance. Mark was a nonissue, a nobody with no track record of being amazing or awful, just an in-between, normal guy who was maybe a little soft spoken and needed to stand up for himself more.

But every time they try to hang out, something comes in between them. The excuses are laughably obvious this time and Amber is caught between trying to understand if Mark Grayson is trying to let her down easy because he’s not interested or if he’s just another douchebag taking her for a ride.

He leaves her alone during their study date for an hour to do something shady and/or potentially related to Eve (I know she overheard him yelling at Cecil in his bedroom); Mark tells her he’s been to Mount Everest, but can’t tell her How he got there, and leaves on a non-specific trip for two weeks, right after their first date, and can’t even tell her Where he’s going or what he did when he was there?

So she does what she’d wished she’d done in her first relationship, she sets her boundaries. Firmly. She gives Mark multiple chances to come clean when she tells him she’s not riding that wave again. It’s been brought up a few times that Amber has lingering relationship-trauma.

During their study date Amber tells him she’s been in relationships with violent potentially abusive guys (“Met plenty of guys who were willing to throw a punch for me.”); or when he stands her up for the Dinner with her mom she tells him that he needs to make a choice because she’s “Been down this road before, and once was enough.”

But he still keeps at it and she starts getting tired of defending him to her friends and her mom. He’s just busy, he’s just studying; he cares, I swear, he just has a strange way of showing it. And this time they shake their heads and lightly imply that she’s stuck in a pattern. Amber can feel them comparing Mark to her old boyfriend and it all becomes a bit too much.

Either he’s a no good drug dealing prick or he’s just wasting her time, whatever it is, Amber’s had enough of being left in the dark.

The soup kitchen is the final straw, but then she finds out that he gets run over by a bus. He actually gets hurt, this is the first time Amber’s seen him hurt, and she feels awful because if she hadn’t pushed him to show up for her again and again maybe he would’ve been more careful.

He doesn’t let her visit him in the hospital. A hit and run on the wrong side of town was the story this time— he can’t even tell her this, the specifics of his accident! Eve was his first point of contact after his parents?! At this point Amber is convinced that he’s involved in something violent or something to do with Eve, or both and she’s not sure she wants to keep going with this.

Amber is confused and hurt but she also feels responsible for Mark’s injuries. Maybe she Was too paranoid, maybe she Was projecting all her relationship-trauma on him and he would tell her what happened at his own pace. So she backtracks, gives him another chance.

College is really the best of all worlds, Mark makes her promises that this time will be different, and Amber tentatively agrees to college together. (She’s still stressed out about his injuries and on edge the whole time though and asks if he has a concussion).

This is really important because Amber ends up at Upstate U later. She decided to go to college with him, basically because of Him. This wasn’t any specific plan she had before, this was her making room in her life for this boy and potentially everything their lives could be together.

Then the Reanimen Incident happens. And she loses her shit. Mark Grayson is not the flakey but well-intentioned boyfriend she thought he was.. Mark Grayson is not even a good person! He LEFT her and William at the drop of a hat to save his own slimy skin, that bastard! Her intuition was right, she never should’ve given him a chance.

Amber was no longer going to give Mark Grayson the time of day, much less share a bed with the self-serving jerk; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of spinning another tall tale. Or seeing her cry. She closes the door to the shower rooms behind her, and overhears Rick leaving to get them all some beer. Dorm room walls are thin, after all.

Then she hears something else.

“You’re Invincible!” William’s voice carries over excitedly, “And you never told me?”

Here goes the "problematic" bit.

I think Amber was lying when she told Mark she knew he was Invincible weeks ago. Amber didn’t even know who Invincible was until a few minutes after the Reanimen attack. She isn’t acting for anyone around her, she’s genuinely confused when the superhero jets off because she’s never seen him in her life.

I think she overheard William freaking out about it in the dorm room and she pieced together Mark’s absences with his vague excuses and why couldn’t visit him at the hospital. She takes a shower to cool off but sitting and stewing on all of it just makes her angrier and she decides to go to the frat party just to get away from Mark for a while.

Now why wouldn’t she just tell him she overheard them talking?

Amber is an assertive independent character with a lot of pride. And that’s not a bad thing. Amber has a lot to be proud of. She has a strong sense of justice, she doesn’t take crap from anyone and she has too much self-worth to put up with liars.

You can clearly see this in the way she approaches Mark in the beginning. She asks William if he’s dating Eve, and then instead of calling him herself, she gets Todd to give Mark her number so he can call her if he’s interested, despite the fact that she already is. She has too much pride to chase him. It’s one of her fixed flaws, and it’s consistent to her character.

So finding out that Mark is actually Invincible almost by accident, is kind of embarrassing for Amber. Not only because she yelled at him for disappearing but for all the times he misled her and lied to her only to actually have a good reason for doing it. There’s a lot of mixed emotions there, shame, guilt, concern. Guilt.

Admitting that she overheard he was Invincible would be like admitting she was a stupid, nagging girlfriend who had no right to be a part of his life (the way the fandom perceives her) so she doesn’t. She tries to distract herself with the party, flirts with someone she just met not ten minutes ago, and feels awful because he immediately drops the girlfriend bomb.

Now she’s forced to confront the fact that she has a boyfriend, and her flakey, well-intentioned superhero boyfriend is sitting and moping in the dorm room because she doesn’t have the guts to tell him she knows. Because telling him she knows would remove the choice he’d need to make when deciding whether or not he was serious about their relationship.

Amber was serious, Amber was going to change her life and potentially open her future to college with him, but was Mark really sure about Them if he couldn’t even tell her of his own accord?

Telling him would be like giving him another out. And Amber was done giving him an out.

When he finally confesses he doesn’t see why she’s mad at him, because he doesn’t see her at all. He can’t even begin to imagine what this roller coaster of a weekend has been for her because she’s been serious about him all this time and it took them breaking up completely for Mark to choose her back in the first place and go all in.

Now it’s true that Mark is entitled to his secrets but Amber is also entitled to being upset that he can’t tell her 1 solid thing about his life. Not one thing does he trust her enough to explain, and at that point why should they even be dating each other? Why should she change the course of her future for a guy who can’t tell her where he was last weekend?

Then Omni-man beats him up on live TV, and now that she knows that he’s Invincible, she finally gets a glimpse into the bloody, gruesome world that is Mark’s. His Dad isn’t a superhero, his Dad is a Monster, and Mark is discovering this the same time as the rest of the world.

So she freaks out because she cares, and she’s so relieved to see him not beat to a bloody pulp like on TV that she kisses him. She likely had no intention of getting back together with him before that, but world-ending fiascos often come with heightened emotions, and they’re just kids at the end of the day.

She’s not a manipulative, narcissistic villain, she’s just a proud girl, in love with a boy who can’t decided whether or not he loves her back.

Now do I think Mark is a terrible jerk who doesn’t deserve Amber? No. I watched Invincible the same way it was intended, almost entirely through Mark’s eyes, and it’s hard to assign blame in this case because we see how horrifying and traumatic being a superhero actually is. But that’s the point, we only see one half of the story.

We see Amber through Mark’s eyes and in his opinion she could afford to be more compassionate to his excuses the moment she finds out he’s a hero, the way Eve can, but that’s not true at all because Amber has no idea what being a hero is like. Eve does, and that’s the difference that Mark is wilfully blind to.

But Mark also has no idea what Amber’s life is like and it’s easy to get lost in the sea of all the lives lost and villains fought, that he genuinely hasn’t spent any time with his girlfriend as a person beyond his Girlfriend. Amber isn’t a person to him, like William stopped being eventually; they became sort of tethers to Mark’s humanity, a way to distinguish himself from his Dad. A way to ground him.

Seriously? When was the last time Mark even talked to William, his once Best Friend? They’re not his Mom, they’re concepts to him. They’re civilians, potential victims he could end up losing if he doesn’t police himself and his powers. Mark slowly becomes disillusioned to his own life as a human, the more the leans into the Viltrumite half of his parentage.

It’s a little tragic but it’s the story we’re seeing. In season 2, when Mark and Amber break up and he gives up his dream for college, these two things are almost explicitly correlated. Mark is coming to terms with the fact that he’s going to outlive everyone he knows, even his new baby brother and that is just the most chaotic example of a slow-burn trauma if I’ve ever seen one. He’s giving up being human, but maybe not giving up his humanity.

______________________________________________________________

TLDR: None of you understand Amber Bennett because the writers decided that Mark would outlive her before he ever had the chance to see things from her perspective and I am SALTY about it

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

Text

a welcomed distraction

obi-wan kenobi x fem!reader

word count: 9.8k (i have no idea how)

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (oral f receiving, mxf intercourse, general sexual content) mentions of death, reader has deceased family so mentions of dead parents/siblings only briefly

a/n: sorry this is fucking LONG i dont even know why because there is hardly a plot but i tried. sorry but reader calls him master kenobi so thats hot? it’s fluff throughout tho bc CMONNNN ITS KENOBI HES SWEET AS. can’t believe the show is ending tomorrow i am so sad. manifest another season! okay bye!!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“You came all this way for me?” You smile at your former classmate turned Jedi council member, and he is just as gorgeous as you remember him. “I’m honoured.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.” Obi-Wan Kenobi bows slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. It was protocol, now that you had taken your rightful place on the throne of your home planet, but with the history you shared with the man in front of you, you quickly brushed off the gesture and came towards him. Pulling him into you, your arms wrapped around his significantly large frame. The last time you saw him, he was a scrawny padawan training under Qui-Gon, and had that ridiculous braid down his face, but seeing him now, you hadn’t realised how much you actually liked it.

“You certainly have. You changed your hair.” You pull away from him and he smiles at you, attempting to hide the slight redness that flushes across his face.

“Yes, well the council had that effect on me.” You link your arm through his as you lead him through the palace, your dress gliding smoothly across the marbled tile. “This palace is incredible. I take you finally redecorated?”

“You should of seen it when I started. Total shit show.” Obi-Wan’s laugh fills the room, and you try to slow the racing of your heart at the fact that he remembers so much about you, even if it was years ago.

You grew up in the Jedi academy together, your parents wanting you to hone your skills, and having no clue where else to send you as no one else in your family was Force-sensitive. You and Obi-Wan were fast friends, and it was with him that you spent most of your formative years. In fact, when you think of your time there, there is very little memory that isn’t filled with laughs and smiles caused by the Jedi knight. You used to talk about everything together, your future, and most relevantly how you would tear down the castle your parents built and start it fresh if you were ever given the chance to lead your home planet.

That seemed like a lifetime ago, and you never would have thought those ideas would be realised. You had two older sibling in line for the throne, so you thought your life would be similar to Obi-Wan’s now, him dreaming of sitting on the very council chair he now holds, you wanting to one day have your own padawan, and train them how your Master trained you. When your families home was attacked, however, you were the only surviving member of the royal household, and you were immediately thrust into the political turmoil of ruling a planet, and forced to leave your Jedi days behind you.

You remember where you were when you found out that your family had passed, and that you would be crowned Queen in the coming week, tasked with the impossible of bringing your planet together in the face of tragedy. Obi-Wan held you while you sobbed, tucked away in the furthest parts of his quarters in the temple while he whispered soothing promises that he would never be able to keep. You believed them anyways, but you were just children. Neither of you could hold the other to those things - not now.

It was enough for you, though, to have him here now. To remember what he meant to you, how you spent your years together, and that even if you could only have him in flashes, it was still the most real thing you ever felt.

“I never doubted you would succeed. You know I read every entry that came in about you in the Archives?”

“Really?” You knew Obi-Wan could feel your Force energy as it spun wildly throughout the room. You were out of practise and he was a council member, but he did an incredible job of hiding his reaction. Or ignored it.

“Of course. Even now, when I know you don’t need me checking up on you, I still feel like I am with you, like when we were young.” You both walked through the archway and the doors softly shut behind you. You had led him through to your private chambers to discuss whatever it was he had come here to talk about. In truth, as soon as you had heard it was him coming, everything else flew out the window, so you were completely clueless as to the official business.

“I’m the same. Did you get my holo-message? When you made the council?” Obi-Wan smiled warmly, and you knew the answer before he spoke.

“Yes - I was meaning to reply, everything has just been-”

“Crazy? I get it, don’t worry.” He just nods, and you hear him exhale. It had always been like this, both of you easily slipping back into the familiarity of each other, so when he didn’t respond to your message over a month ago, you knew it was just because he hasn’t had the chance to take a breath.

“I never thought it would be like this. The council always seemed so put together - I have no idea how they hid it so well.”

“It was the same when I came back home. My parents hid the stress so well, I thought it would be a breeze.” You still hadn’t unlinked arms as you both took a seat on the couch, only sliding away slightly so you could rest your back on the arm rest. You were surprised Obi-Wan didn’t pull away, he was always so shy when it came to physical affection. Maybe the years that had passed between you both had mellowed him. Either way, you were grateful for the small contact.

“Well, you have been handling things incredibly since you ascended. Thats actually why I am here.”

“Oh, right. Offical council business. I am all ears, Master Kenobi.” He laughs again, and his smile is still a little bit crooked when he laughs. You remember it being so when you were young. You remembered everything about his face.

“Yes. I am very offical now.” You laugh with him, and he seems to lose focus for a second as your laughter dies down, waiting for him to speak. “Right. The council wants you to come to Coruscant, for the national senate.”

“In person? Like, to sit in?” He nods encouragingly, but it doesn't seem to calm your sudden nerves.

“I know how it sounds - and don’t worry, I already told them about your preference to not speak to crowds.” You still feel a little sick, but that is replaced with warmth in your stomach when Obi-Wan’s hand rests on your lower thigh and squeezes lightly. “It would just be to the council and a few of the national board members. They are impressed with your diplomatic discrepancy, and want to see if it has potential to be implemented into the senate debates.”

“I feel sick even thinking about speaking in front of the council. Do you remember that time we broke the amulet - the one Dooku leant Qui-Gon? We had to explain it to Master Yoda, and I swear if you hadn’t spoken for me I would have passed out.”

“But I am the council now! It would just be me, and a few other people. I’d be there the whole time. They are truely impressed with you, they just want to hear more of what you have to say.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. You knew it was ridiculous - a Queen, leading a planet full of people, terrified to speak in front of a crowd. It had been something you had always struggled with, and even still today you avoided it as much as possible.

“I am flattered - truly! You know the councils opinion of me means the world, but I-”

“I know you can do this. Look around you! Look at what you have created. This planet was at a breaking point when you took leadership, in the face of tragedy. Your own tragedy, in fact, but now it is thriving! Your economy has been stable for its longest period yet, exports and imports have nearly tripled in your short reign, and even major crimes have diminished. Your people are happy, your planet is safe - your leadership skills could help millions more.” He spoke with such passion and truth, you almost forgot he was talking about you.

“You really have been keeping tabs on me.” You breath and he shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Like I said the night you left - I will always be your biggest supporter. Even light years away, I would be there for you.”

“I missed you, Obi.” His hand was still resting on your lower thigh, and your skin had become inexplicably hot under his touch.

“I missed you too. More than you know.” The room felt smaller than before, and it was then that you could feel him in the room. He was in front of you, but he was also all around you, like he was surrounding you in everything that was here. You hadn’t used the Force in a long time, and you almost forgot how overwhelming it was when you leaned into it, but you couldn't help it when it came to Obi-Wan. You would do just about anything he asked - which is why you were already feeling nervous about this speech you would be inevitably making.

“When is this hypothetical senate meeting, anyway?” Obi-Wan beamed at you, relishing in your defeated sigh.

“The next national senate is in three weeks, so just before that. You’ll do great, I know you will.” You don’t know how you pulled yourself away from him, probably the simmering nerves threatening to spill over, but you got up off the couch and walked over to the table where you left out your favourite wine, and poured two glasses.

“I suppose it would be bad taste to let my old friend fail one of his first solo missions as a council member.” He laughed as he reached the table, taking the glass, and his fingertips brushed your own as he did so. Everything he did shot sparks up your spine, but the way he was touching you without hesitation was so unlike the timid Kenobi you remembered. It was the only thing that had changed about him - well that and the hair.

“I appreciate the sentiment.” He took a sip of the wine, and coughed as he drank down the liquid. “You still have a taste for strong liquor, I take it?”

“What’s the point of drinking if it’s weak?” He shook his head, but took another sip. “Enough business talk. Tell me what you’ve been up to, apart from keeping tabs on me, apparently.”

“Oh, that is about all I do. My council meetings do tend to revolve around you, as does the rest of the world. That is how you used to see it, am I correct?” You nearly spit out your drink. Sarcastic Kenobi was one of your favourites.

“At least being on the council didn’t squash out your sense of humour. I was worried you would turn into one of them.”

“One of them? Did you expect me to turn into a little green man?” Now you do spit out your drink when you burst out laughing, and he joins you.

“You know what I mean! We always used to talk about how serious they were. You were a lot more of a rule follower back then, though. They thought I was the bad influence.”

“You were! That amulet was your fault, I stand by that.” You start shaking your head and finish the glass in your hand, the wine going straight to your head.

“Bullshit it was! You wanted to look at it!”

“Only because you told me it was cool! I was trying to impress you.” The confession seems to even catch him by surprise a little, but he recovers quickly by finishing his own glass.

“Well, I couldn’t have been half bad. I did graduate top of my class, didn’t I?” He rolls his eyes, a smirk forming on his gorgeous face. Oh Maker - you really did have a taste for strong wine.

“You will never let that go, will you?”

“Nope! I still remember how angry you were when I beat you.”

“Yes, because I spent all my time quizzing you when I should have been studying.” He grumbles a little, clearly still holding a grudge. Your cheeks go pink at the memory, because you think of what actually happened that night before the final exam, which was what set you apart when you graduated.

“I don’t seem to remember a whole lot of work getting done.” You can’t look at him when you say it. Maybe he forgot - it was years ago now. You certainly never forgot, but the way he brought up that night so casually made you think he hadn’t dwelled on it like you had.

“I - no, I suppose not.” So, he does remember. You don’t know what senario would have been more daunting. “You were always smarter than me anyways.”

“True.” He laughs and you beam back at him. “But you were always stronger. And more focused. I tended to get a little... distracted.” Now you were really testing his memory.

Obi-Wan shifts on his feet, and for a second you think you might have made him uncomfortable with the memory.

That night meant a lot to you - and it had been something you had always thought about. Even throughout all the years apart, that night before the final test, both of you huddled on Obi-Wan’s bed sharing the same textbook, you had never forgotten how it made you feel.

You were so nervous - you remember it because its how you feel now, with Obi-Wan slowly making his way around the table to come towards you. It wasn’t just the big test, though. You had feelings for him, of course you did, you still do. He was your best friend, pretty much your only friend, and he was the kindest, most loyal person you had ever met. You swallowed those feelings, however, because you were both going to be Jedi’s.

If only you had known.

You remember how close you were, because Obi-Wan is almost that close now. You could hear him breathing in the same, uneven pattern you hear now, although now it is significantly lower. You were both holding the textbook on the bed, reading opposite pages and making up little quizzes and questions to test each others knowledge...

* * * flashback * * *

“I am going to fail. I know it - with the Force in me I know it. I can see it now. My first premonition: a giant F on my stupid paper.”

“Don’t be dramatic. If anything, I’m going to fail. I know nothing about the history of Coruscant. Nothing!” He groans and shuts the book, shoving it off the bed, his hands coming up to cover his face.

“Now who’s being dramatic.” You dropped your head on his shoulder, and he froze up. You knew any kind of physical touch would distract him enough to make him forget about the test, at least for a moment. He would pass with flying colours, you knew he would. He’s the smartest person you know.

“I -I never can just - this is everything to me. And to you, of course. I just -” You lift your head from his shoulder and take his hands in your own. You see him physically tense up when you interlock your fingers in his.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi. You will pass this test. You will be the best Jedi there ever was, and you will be completely and totally fine. I promise.” You let your gaze drop to your hands, laying on your lap as you had turned to face him. His knuckles were nearly white with how tight he was holding your hand, and you were grateful you were looking down because you were blushing furiously.

“I would never have made it this far without you, you know.” You let out a breath - he would have succeeded in any senario. “I mean it. All these years, you helped me so much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

You look up and find his eyes, wide and vulnerable.

“You don’t have to thank me. You did the same for me. You know that. What are friends for?” His eyebrows raise and his mouth opens just slightly, before he regains composure and lets go of your hand.

“What are friends for.” He repeats and nods, like he’s trying to remember the sentence.

“Obi? Are you okay?” He just nods again. You can feel the shift in his energy, and you know that he is lying. “Hey, you are going to crush this test, okay?”

“Yeah.” He breathes and goes to pick up the book. You reach out a tentative hand and stop him, fingertips brushing the bare skin of his wrist. He freezes.

“Maybe we should stop reading for a bit. Meditate or something, distract ourselves.” Your hand stays on his wrist as he turns towards you. Both of you sit cross legged on the bed opposite each other, knees touching, You keep your hand on his wrist and he keeps his arm outstretched so you can touch him, letting it come to rest on your ankle.

“Distract ourselves.” He says, and his voice cracks.

“Yeah. I’m sure we can think of something to do other than study. I can count on one hand how many times we have actually gotten work done, anyways.” You catch his smile in the corner of your eye, and your hand is still on his.

“Maybe that’s why I know I’m going to fail.” He says defeatedly, and you shake your head, bringing one of your hands to the side of his face. His eyes go wide, and you snake your finger underneath the braid that hangs on his cheekbone.

“You are not going to fail.” He sucks in a breath.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you. You know me, am I going to fail?” The question surprises him, and he creases his eyebrow, seemingly relaxing under your touch. Finally.

“Of course not. You could pass in your sleep.” You smile and he mirrors it. You feel the evidence under your palm.

“See? We are practically Jedi already.” You don’t know why, or what about this interaction makes you bold, but you lean in just slightly. His breath brushes against your cheek.

“I’m - I am-” He lets out a shakey breath, and you nod your head. His hands comes up to your face, holding you close.

“I know. Just - we need a distraction, right? To focus.” He nods, convincing himself and you.

“Right. To focus. Then we can be Jedi’s. After we...” You were pretty sure you weren’t moving, or breathing, or doing anything but blinking at him. You feel him all over the room, his energy a live wire wrapping around your chest. Everything about his Force was new and exciting, it was skipping around in spite of how still both of you were. You are sure yours was the same - speeding around him at the same rate that your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Obi-Wan, I-” Your eyes were still open when he pressed his lips to your own, but as soon as you realised what was happening you squeezed them shut and kissed him back.

He was warm. You don’t think you were cold, but Maker he was so warm. Your free hand pulled him closer by his robes and he eagerly leaned into you, lips moving faster and more urgently the more time passed.

You were both completely inexperienced, and you don’t know how technically good you were, but it felt so good being this close to him. Being close to him in a way that you had longed for all this time, a way you never thought was possible. You could feel the heat swirling low in your stomach, and Obi-Wans hands dropped from your face and fell to your hips as if sensing what you needed. He moved backwards on the bed, leaning against the wall and pulled you towards him, urging you to follow. You shuffled forwards not letting your lips leave his, afraid that if you stopped for even a second one of you would realise how very wrong this was, and would come to your senses.

Maker, you had never wanted to be wrong so much in your whole damn life. You moved up and straddled him, his hands tight against your hips holding you to him. Your back arched as one travelled up your spine, pressing your chests together. You were both breathing hard; catching tiny breaths between kisses. When you let out the smallest of sounds, something between a whimper and a whine, Obi-Wan’s mouth opened on pure instinct.

When his tongue slid into your mouth you returned the gesture with a grateful moan, both of you letting your hands glide where ever you felt. One of your own found his hair and you tugged on it. Something about his hair always made you want to feel it under your fingertips; when he would come late to training and it would still be all messed up from sleep, or when he got caught in the rain that one time, and showed up at your room with his braid all out of place, asking you to fix it for him. You had always wanted to feel it in your fingertips as you kissed him, and he leaned into it, returning your desperate noises with his own. Hands found skin under your shirt and you let him touch you wherever he pleased, silently begging for him everywhere.

Your hips moved against him, and neither of you were prepared for how good it would feel to have each other so close. For the first time since he grabbed you your lips disconnected, only to say the others name in bliss before finding him again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth and he moaned, eyes fluttering open to find yours, pupils blown out in lust.

“Sweetheart.” Obi-Wan says, and you feel your entire body shudder. His hand grips the back of your neck and pulls you impossibly closer. You were trying to keep your head on straight but when his tongue slips into your mouth again, you melt into his lap and take whatever he gives you.

Both of your hips were rolling out of sync, Obi-Wan shifting uncomfortably in his spot to get any kind of relief. You could feel how hard he was underneath you, and you wanted him to lay down - to move so you could feel it more.

If either of you did move, though, this would become more. Something you couldn’t excuse. The thought hit both of you at the same time, because you pull away and Obi-Wan leans his head back on the wall, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. You were both desperate for air, but more than that you were trying to calm yourselves down.

“We-” You started and he groaned.

“I know. Shit.” His hand ran down the back of your head, smoothing out your hair.

“Shit is right.” He lets out a breathless laugh, not letting go of your hip.

You don’t remember how long you stayed there, tucked away in his lap, but time clearly passed in a second as you woke up alone, in your own bed, and only just made the final exam with five minutes to spare.

Obi-Wan came down three minutes after you, and you both passed with flying colours, you beating Obi-Wan by one point, a multiple choice question about the history of Coruscant.

* * * flashback ends * * *

Obi-Wan moves around the table and now stands in front of you. You don’t know if he picked up on your little clue, or how much of your energy he can read clearly. Everything seems fuzzy to you now that he had reached you, and the wine was making your brain short circuit.

“You always had an affinity for distracting me.” You breathed a laugh as best you could. “I nearly missed the final exam that day, you know.”

“So did I! I don’t even know how I ended up in my room that night.” He tilts his head.

“You fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake you, so I carried you back.”

“You never told me that.” He just shrugs, like he didn’t risk everything, being kicked out of the academy for a simple gesture. If anyone had caught him, it would have been almost impossible to lie their way out of that. “You could have been caught. You should have woken me up.”

“You looked... peaceful.” He closes is eyes for a second, remembering. A period of silence passes, neither of you wanting to disrupt the fragile glass of a moment.

“Such a gentleman.” He laughs and takes the empty glass from your hand and places it on the table. He takes a step toward you.

“I should have come and found you sooner. After your families funeral and your coronation, they stationed me off-world, but I should of-”

“Stop, Obi. Of course you were busy, being a Jedi knight and all that. It’s what you dreamt of - what we dreamt of. For years.”

“I know, but I should of-”

“You know I was also running a planet. Kind of a full time gig.” You both laugh and he relaxes, shoulders slumping forward slightly.

“Yes, so I’ve heard.” You roll your eyes, and he smiles. “But I never stopped thinking about you. About that night.”

“I-” He steps forward and you nearly step back, completely surprised by his boldness. “Are you drunk, Obi-Wan?”

“No!” He scoffs and stays where he is, almost looking offended. “Well, maybe a little.”

You giggle in response as you stare up at him. He was taller than you now, and where before he stood at your height, now his breath only just brushes your forehead, towering over in front of you.

“I never stopped thinking about it either.” He stops smiling, eyes widening a bit. It is so like that first time on his bed, and it sends a wave of heat through you to remember him like that.

“You never brought it up again. I thought I had crossed a line.” He whispers, and you would miss the words if you weren’t staring at his mouth.

“No, God, everything was just so crazy after that day. It was only a few days after we graduated that..” Obi-Wan was nodding, knowing you were speaking of when you found out your family passed.

“Of course. It was-”

“A lot.” Obi-Wan breaths a laugh at your casual response.

“That is one way of putting it.” He concludes. You think back to when you found out your family had died. They were never particularly loving, and most of your childhood had been spent with the man in front of you, so trying to mourn them while also never really knowing them was all too consuming.

You were more distraught about the future you wouldn’t have - you had never planned to be a queen. You wanted to be a Jedi, to fight, or teach, just do something good in this world, and to do so with Obi-Wan by your side. It was like your life was pulled out from under you, and you only had about a day to process it before you were whisked back to your home planet to lead.

“You really lived the dream, though. Best Jedi in the galaxy, so I hear.” He drops your gaze, but stays close enough you can hear him smiling.

“Something like that, I suppose.”

“I always had imagined what it would have been like, if all this-” you look around at the highly decorated private quarters. Blue and gold streams through the tinted windows, lighting up the marbled floor. “-hadn’t happened.”

“I have no doubt I would still be second best.”

“Such a charmer, Master Kenobi. What happened to that shy little kid who used to hide whenever it was time to practise hand-to-hand?” He looks up at you, eyes ablaze with a look you can’t quite pick.

“I have changed, like you said.” Your breath caught in your throat as his tone lowered. You almost forgot how close your faces were. “I had thought about it too. What it would have been like if you had stayed.”

“Really?” He nods, holding your eyes. “So in your wildest dreams, you are only second best?”

“Maker, you are impossible.” He smiles through the sentence.

“I really did miss you, though. For a long time I thought about running away, coming to find you and Jedi-ing it up across the galaxy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, all the time. Of course now, I am grateful for what I have, but I think we would have been awesome. Maybe a little reckless, though.”

“You? Surely not.” His eyebrows raise and you push him lightly on the shoulder. “I don’t think we would have made the council, though, like we used to talk about.”

“No?” He shakes his head.

“I think we may have gotten a little too... distracted.” Your eyes widen, and you have to blink a couple times. Is he... “If you had stayed.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You couldn’t.” He’s right. You would have stayed, if you had been given a choice. Stayed with him.

“Right.” You suck in a deep breath and try to blink away the fuzzy feeling in your head. You felt like you were spinning, and then everything went blank as Obi-Wan reached out and interlocked your hands.

His palms were rougher than you remembered, battle hardened you were sure. His hands were bigger, too, matching his larger frame. He still held you just as tight, knuckles going white as he pulled you toward him. He made no move to kiss you, but instead held you there, mere inches from pressing your bodies together.

“I almost forgot why I came here today. The flight over I had to re-read the message from the council.” You said nothing, just gripped his hand back with the same silent desperation. “Not once have I been unprepared for a mission, or gotten on a ship without knowing exactly what I plan to do. As soon as I saw it was your name, I just got on the ship and came to you.”

“I had no idea why you were here. I just told them that if you ever came, to let you in. No questions.” It was the reason he was able to come to your families funeral, and the coronation days after. It was pretty much the first change you made as Queen - the heightened security after the attack made it impossible for anyone to see you, but you couldn’t run the risk of him being turned away.

“See what I mean? Distracting...” His eyes drift down to your interlocked hands.

“Hmm. How am I supposed to get through this speech, then?” His eyes drift slowly up your body, roaming freely. You felt too hot - his gaze was burning into your flesh through your dress.

“You could always practise.” He finally pulls his eyes off the tiny straps of your dress, and looks at you.

“With you?”

“I am the council, after all.” His hand lets go of yours, only for his fingertips to drag upwards slowly, skimming the soft skin of the inside of your palm, up to your wrist.

“I- I don’t even know what I would say.” His hand stilled.

“I’ve never known you to be speechless. Try it now.” You huff a frustrated breath.

“Kenobi. This - what are we doing?” His fingertips are still touching your wrist when he pulls his eyes back to yours. You see them flick across your face, searching for some kind of sign of resentment or hostility. He would find none.

“You only call me that when your upset with me. Do you want me to stop?” You drop your head back and look up to the roof. Your eyes focus on the sparkling chandelier, twinkling your broken reflection back at you.

“I’m not upset. This just- it’s just not fair. I know that we can’t - better than anyone I know that we can’t. Well, you can’t.”

“We aren’t. I would never do anything to betray your trust.”

“Obi, that’s not what I meant.” You soften your tone. “I can’t handle having only half of you. You - my whole world has revolved around you for what feels like centuries. I could hardly stand watching you from a distance, because I know that- that what I want is not possible.” Your breath was shaking. You never imagined when he walked through the doors to the palace you would be laying yourself out like this - or maybe you knew yourself better than you thought. You did leave out your strongest wine.

“You can have as much of me as you would like.” He says lowly. It makes you realise that you aren’t kids anymore, and that maybe he doesn’t follow all the rules like he used to. Your heart jumps in your throat.

“You are on the Jedi council, Obi-Wan.”

“I know. I know.” He says, swallowing hard. “This isn’t something I take lightly. I know what it would mean. I would never have come if I didn’t.”

“You could lose everything you worked for.”

“I could.” And then Obi-Wan shrugs. At the idea of losing everything he cared about, he just shrugs. “I have met… people. New people, who have shown me that these kinds of things - there can be something like that in my life. If I choose it. After I made a decision, I took the first ship I could find and came to you.”

“I-“

“It helps if you don’t think about it too hard. I learnt many lessons from you, but not thinking is one that took me the longest.” He smiles, and your head hovers just in front of his chin.

Both of his hands rest on your hips and you step into him, his scent filling your senses. Vanilla.

“Do you remember that night, when we were sneaking around after training? We wanted to get those textbooks from the restricted section, and you were too scared to sneak past the Archivist?”

“Hey! I was- To be fair she was highly intimidating.”

“She was like a thousand years old.”

“With a very big cane!” You laughed and Obi-Wans hands held you tighter on your hips. “What about it?”

“This feels like that. We spent weeks trying to hide those books in our rooms, do you remember when Master Yoda came to speak to us, and-”

“Oh Maker, please do not bring that up right now. I am still embarrassed.” You laugh against him, and let your head fall into the crook of his neck. You take a second to breath him in. You don’t know how many times you have imagined this moment, where he finally comes to you.

“This was so much easier when we were kids.” You mumble into his robes, and one of his hands comes up to the back of your head, smoothing your hair down.

“I think it’s easier now.” Your eyebrows screw together, and he must feel it because he laughs. How could it be easier now? At least when you were kids you didn’t have any real responsibilities. Now, you had an entire planet on your shoulders, and he... “At least the council don’t have a cane.”

“And you said I was impossible!” His hands come up to your face.

“Come here.” He whispers, coaxing you closer. You leaned into him with little effort, and let your eyes flutter shut in anticipation. “You don’t know how many times I have dreamed of you.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Your eyes were still closed, and you had no idea how close he was. His lips brushed against your nose as he lowered his head towards you, and you found yourself pushing up on your toes to hurry him.

“You think so?” You nod, feeling his lips against your cheek and his hot breath on the shell of your ear. “You are sure this is what you want? We can wait.”

“I have waited long enough.” Your eyes open and he smiles down at you, and finally, after years between, his lips finally reconnect with your own.

He moves slowly, teasing as he holds you in place with strong hands. You push up higher on your toes but he refuses to give you an inch of room, taking control and spinning you to the left so that your lower back is pressed up against the edge of the table.

He kisses you harder when he feels your hands in his hair, pulling and tugging in a desperate attempt to keep him here. A surprised sound is lost in his mouth when his hands drop to the back of your thighs, lifting you in the air before gently placing you on top of the table. You hear the breaking of glass next to you, and both of your heads slowly turn to the floor, where your broken wine glass lays shattered at his feet. He keeps kissing you as you look down, but his urgency makes you completely forget about the mess.

You wrap your legs around his back and force his body against yours, earning a groan from the back of his throat. His hands come down on your knees and slowly massage their way higher, bringing up the soft silk of your dress with their movement.

As he exposes more of your skin, his lips fall from your own and attach to your neck. You let out a moan at his teeth biting softly at the sensitive skin, and you feel him smile against you and then do it again.

“You’ve be- shit- been practising.” You tug at his hair again and he hums against your skin, the vibrations making your hips buck slightly.

“Only in my dreams.” The confession sends your mind blank, and you pull his hair back, attaching your lips back to his own. One of his hands holds your neck, the other coming to your lower back, letting you move your hips as much as you want. You can feel his hard length against your exposed core, the faint excuse for underwear under this dress hiding none of your arousal. You know he can feel it too, because he stutters out a few strangled moans every time you roll against him.

“Feels - good. Oh, shit it feels so good. I need you to-” You babble out as your legs lock tighter around him, and he pulls away. You pout, feeling like a child and reach out to grab his robes and pull him back to you.

“So impatient.” He smiles and kisses you again in a long, slow motion, enough to satiate you both so he can get a sentence out.

“And you are so good at being with-holding right now?” You try to focus on what he’s saying, but you can’t tear your eyes away from his lips, and how much you want them back. Want them in other places, too.

“You are right. If this dress wasn’t so pretty, I may have torn it off.” He tugs at the fabric of your dress, pulling it a little higher. The look in his eyes is purely hunger, and it makes your words get lost in your throat.

“I have a thousand dresses, you can-”

“Ah, but this one might be my favourite.” You shake your head and he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Sit still for me.”

He drops to his knees in front of you, and the first thing you think of is how much you wish you could capture this moment forever. The way he looks, hair all over the place, robes pulled out in all directions; it is so unlike how put together you have seen him. Especially in any of the council addresses you have watched, which is all of them. He is always so proper and formal, but it took about twenty seconds with you to unravel all that composure, and it has you squeezing your legs together, searching for relief.

His hands run up along the exposed skin of your legs, fingertips just brushing the hem of your panties before coming back down to your knees. He was tall enough so that you could still see his face clearly if you leaned back, but you didn’t want to miss a damn second of the sight in front of you.

“You are still the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.”

“Obi, please don’t tease me.” He looks up at you and presses a kiss to the top of your knee before urging your legs open with his hands, gently spreading you open.

“Are you going to pout every time you don’t get your way?” He presses sweet kisses up the inside of your thighs, taking his time to touch every sliver of skin available. “Always. So. Impatient.”

He hums each time he finds an unexplored stretch of skin, and occasionally gives into the temptation to softly bite and suck, leaving a row of marks no one but him will see.

“You’re an ass.” Your hands thread in his hair and he hums against your skin. Pushing your dress up higher over your hips, he slides you forward, edging you closer to the end of the table.

“You are so beautiful.” His hot words making you shiver, and you see the half lidded look in his eyes shoots awake when he sees your underwear. Thin, black lace hiding nothing from his intense gaze. It makes you, for just a second, want to hide from him, but then you remember who it is, and you let him take his time. His fingers tentatively hook over the thin fabric, and he seems to just stare for a second, enjoying the sight of his hands against your skin. “So beautiful.”

He drags the underwear down painfully slow, and you wriggle on the table to get him to move faster, but he doesn’t. He is meticulous, and you can see his eyes flicking to each of your legs, wanting to watch like he was unwrapping a present.

“Is this how you usually start offical council meetings, then?” He looks up at you, a half grin on his face and kisses your upper thigh. You can see a few of the marks he has left from this angle, and it makes your heart skip.

“Yes. The council is very close.” You start laughing, hands holding him tighter to stay upright.

“Going to be a busy few weeks for me then.” He bites a little harder on your thigh, and you let out a squeak. “Sorry, Master Kenobi.”

“Maker, it sounds so good when you say it.” He is so close to your centre you can feel your legs start to shake in anticipation. Your hands begin to gently tug and massage the roots you have tangled your fingers in, and he groans.

“You like it when I call you that?” He nods, leaning his face against the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ll call you that all day if you-“

“If I what?” You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, but his hand taps your back, making them open on instinct. “You want me to taste you?”

“Yes, Master Kenobi.” He moans and his tongue finally dips into your pussy, soft and gentle. You cry out, and it is clear that he was holding back, because as soon as he hears your desperate sounds, he hooks both of his arms under your legs and throws them over his shoulders.

He holds you to him as his tongue laps at you, the sounds of your arousal hidden under both of your groans of approval. He was far too good at reading your body, knowing exactly where you need him without having to say anything but praise. He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, and everything goes white.

The rough grip you have in his hair is the only thing keeping your body upright, and you can only hope he would tell you if you were hurting him because you need to see the sight before you. He occasionally looks up to you to watch you, and a small smile appears on his face every time he catches your eyes. One of his hands somehow snaked between your legs, because you feel his finger curl inside of you, setting a slow, delicious pace that has you panting.

“I love it when you call me that.” He murmurs, and then takes your clit back into his mouth, sucking and kissing until you aren’t sure if you are still on the table, or floating in the air.

“Oh fuck, Master.” He slows his finger inside of you and his mouth turns to kissing any skin except where you need him the most. “You’re so good. Please, I can’t-“

He slides two fingers back inside of you, and his mouth returns to your throbbing clit, and your hips roll into him on impulse. He was surrounded by you, legs still clamped around his head and shoulders, and his other arm was gripping across your lower back, ensuring you were close enough.

“Taste so sweet.” He says into you, and you can feel the years of built up tension simmering low in your stomach.

“Mmmfuck- please, please don’t stop - shit.” He groans into your pussy, and flicks his tongue right where you are most sensitive, making you whimper his name through gritted teeth. You were getting close, which is why you couldn’t hold back your groan when he pulled away again.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He leans his cheek leaning against your thigh, mouth still burning kisses into your skin like he can’t pull himself away. Both of his hands were now grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass, massaging and coaxing you to the point where you were almost completely off the table.

“Just come up here-”

“No. We can’t do this here.” He presses one more kiss, lower down on your leg before unwrapping your legs from his head. His hands drag slowly along the skin, and he lets his eyes wander around the sight in front of him. You liked seeing him like this, unabashed and staring like he had all the time in the world. Because he does.

“You don’t want to fuck me on this table, Master Kenobi?” He stands and lets out a long, loud groan, all of the air in his lungs brushing against your chest as he tucks his head into your neck.

“I want to have you on every elaborately decorated piece of furniture in this room. I want you to be like you were ten seconds ago, begging me not to stop.” Your legs almost start to shake just at his words, and you can feel how close you were to finishing on his mouth when your hips jerk against him, making a mess of his robes.

“Why don’t you, then?” You want him to. You would ignore every royal duty just to meet his every need. His strong arms wrap you against him and lift you into the air, and your arms wrap tightly around his neck as you squeal in surprise.

“Because when I take you for the first time, I want it to be the only thing you can think about when you go to sleep, because you are all I think about.” He spins around and walks further into the room. “Bedroom?”

“Through there. First door on the left.” You don’t fight him on that, pointing towards the smaller hallway and he kisses you sweetly while he walks. You can’t help but smile when he walks straight past the room you pointed out. “Missed it.”

“Hm?” He pulls away from you, eyes still half closed and looks around, quickly correcting course. “See? Distracting.”

You laugh as he bursts through the door, revealing your room. He’s still kissing you, eyes squeezed shut when he walks into your bed, so when he gently lets you go and you fall back onto the soft covers, you get to see his reaction as he looks around the room.

It is not as elaborate as the rest of the castle. When you were designing it, you wanted it to be a place you could check out of all the royal mess outside, and be at peace. You have even mediated a couple of times, not that you were very good at it nowadays. You designed it around the time you felt most comfortable, a place where you always felt safe.

“This looks like our rooms. From the academy.” He looms over you, taking in the grey metallic walls with wide windows, light stuttered by the cascading blinds. You shrugged shyly at him.

“I didn’t want my room to be the same as the castle. I guess I was a bit nostalgic when I designed this part.”

“I like it.” He says, still not looking at you. Your dress had fallen back into place, covering your legs, and you were growing impatient. You began to drag the fabric up, shimming on the bed.

As Obi-Wan had his back turned, examining the few things you kept on your desk, you took the entire dress off, leaving you completely naked on the bed, and Obi-Wan completely clueless.

“I kept my desk in the same place.” He observed, running a hand over the plain wood.

“Call it a coincidence.”

“Oh, I’m sure it-” He turns back to you and loses track of his words. It all happens so fast, but in the next second Obi-Wan is on top of you, kissing your mouth, your neck, down to your collarbone. Once he reaches a part of your skin he knows will be hidden, he starts the same slow, meticulous pace of biting and dragging his tongue, exploring.

His mouth starts to go lower, and your breathing quickens as his lips ghost along your stomach. He looks up at you, and you realise he’s still wearing clothes.

“I want to see you.” You whine, and he crawls back up your body, kissing a trail of heat back to you.

“Here I am.” You roll your eyes.

“More.” You tug at his robes, the various layers getting tangled and caught in your hold. He straddles you and sits back, eyes roaming your body as he begins the process of undressing. He had you boxed in so you couldn’t hurry him along, but you sort of enjoyed watching him.

He undid ties and fabric, each layer revealing more of his muscled torso. He finally reaches the final layer, pulling the shirt over his head with one hand. Your hands run along the exposed skin, and its your turn to drink in the sight of him. You try your best to memorise every scar and ridge on his abdomen, but you are impatient, and can’t stray your eyes back to his chest when he begins to pull his trousers down. He leans back down before you get a good look, but feeling him naked against you is almost better than seeing it.

“Is this okay?” He says breathless from the effort of holding himself back. You kiss him in response, shifting your hips to allow easy access, but he doesn’t move. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes. This is very much okay. Like, the most okay thing in the world right now.” He smiles and kisses you again, one of his hands traveling down the curve of your hips while the other comes up to your face, cupping your cheek. “Are you sure this is what you want? What I said before, I didn’t mean it like-”

“This is all I want. All I have wanted since that night in my room.” His face is hard - serious. You’ve only seen him like this in training, almost determined to make you believe it. The hand that travelled down your side cups your ass and moves your hips to lay flat on the bed. “I haven’t ever done this before. I - I don’t know how well I-”

“Anything you do is perfect. Perfect. Please.” You can still see some of the unsure nerves flitting in his eyes, and your mind drifts back to earlier, to what gave him that extra confidence boost. “Please, Master Kenobi.”

His teeth graze against your bottom lip and he slides into you, the room suddenly alive with both of your desperate gasps of relief.

“Oh, fucking Maker.” He groans into your mouth, before sliding out of you completely, and then back in. The process is blissful torture, and you feel every perfect inch of him inside you, hitting something that makes you see stars through the plain tiling of your roof. It wasn’t that he was larger than anyone you had been with before, but it’s just because it was him. He felt so perfect inside you, like he was made just for you, and even with his confessed inexperience his slow and controlled pace has you reeling.

“You feel so good- ohmygod- please go faster I-” You can hear him moaning something low under his breath but with the added stimulation of one of the rough pads of his finger on your clit, you don’t have the capacity to try and listen. You just continue to babble out plea’s and cries, the build up from his mouth before hitting you like a speeder.

“Faster, sweetheart?” You nod and squeeze your eyes shut. The hand on your face drops to hold himself up beside your face, hand finding yours and interlocking your fingers. “Like this?”

He starts to go faster, not slamming into you but just enough to build you up brick by brick. It’s mind numbing, the pleasure drawn out, every time he drove into you he was seemingly exploring a new part of you. He was kissing your collarbone, switching between each side, leaving wet kisses in his path, kissing your mouth each time he switched sides.

You couldn’t speak anymore, his relentless thrusts getting harder every time you moaned out his name into the room. Your back arched into his chest, and you could feel the flex of his abs against you.

“Baby, I’m - you feel divine I can’t -“He all but bites down on your shoulder and you try to move your hips to meet him, encouraging silently.

“Don’t stop! Please, please, pl-lease -oh fuck!” He went faster, the sound of skin on skin echoing. You were burning up underneath him, everything inside of you zapping into place for your inevitable crash. You were a shaking mess, and he was ruining you in the best way, every relentless snap of his hips had you begging for more, even though you weren’t sure how much more you could comprehend.

“I’m gonna- sweetheart” His voice cracked and you forced yourself to open your eyes.

“Cum inside me, please. I want you to-” You sounded more desperate than you wanted to admit, but from the broken sound that came from Obi-Wan, you would say it over and over again. His hips stuttered only for a second, and he came with the sound of your name on his tongue.

With the way his hand was working you, and the incredible sounds he was making in your mouth you followed him into his orgasm, the blood rushing to every nerve ending and blanketing over your entire body.

Everything went blank and you were almost positive you passed out, the feeling of pillow soft lips kissing up and down the front of your throat bringing you back to your body.

“Obi-Wan.” You managed and he was back to your lips in a blink, drinking you in like he still hadn’t had enough of you. You hadn’t had enough of him, either, and you returned his force with as much energy as you could summon. He had fucked you tired, though, because you could hardly pick yourself up.

“So beautiful.” He laid down next to you, clearly just as exhausted. You turned and watched as his eyes closed, and he wrapped an arm around you, bringing you closer to lay your head on his chest. Your hand comes up beside your face, tracing aimless lines along the multiple scars on his chest, and you sit in silence, trying to regain control of your mind enough to speak full sentences.

“Can you stay?” You whispered up at him when you felt his breathing even under your chin. He shuffles down on the bed, pulling back the covers enough so you can both easily slide underneath them.

“I’m afraid you will never get rid of me now.” He pulls you back to him, bringing your leg to rest over his abdomen, how he knows you like to sleep.

“Good. Council’s never getting you back now.” He laughs and kisses the top of your head, making you blush at the intimate gesture. “It wasn’t a coincidence. The room, I mean.”

“No?”

“I just really liked yours. It was always cleaner than mine, and it was warmer. I guess I thought it would bring me back to those days if I had a bit of it here.” Your wrapped your arm further around him, practically bear hugging him.

“Well, it is warm. Definitely not clean, though.” Your head shoots up at him.

“Hey! Not like I was expecting handsome strangers to whisk me to bed every time a council member asks to meet with me. You can clean it for me later, since you were so good at it.” You expect him to retort, but he just smiles.

“Handsome?” Your eyes nearly roll out of your head, but after what just happened, your more than happy to feed his ego.

“Very handsome. Bit of a light weight, but is a great fu-”

“Okay, that is quite enough.” He laughs and covers your mouth. You squirm away from his hold to continue the assault of profane compliments, but he easily holds you down. It turns you on a little more than you can admit, but you store the information for later considering the worn out look on Obi-Wan’s face.

“You know, when we get up in the morning, I’m going to have to explain to my staff who you are.” You say as you tuck the blankets up under your chin, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“And what will you tell them?”

“What should I tell them?” You feel his chest rise and fall and little uneven.

“A- I guess telling them a Jedi would only confuse them more. And me.”

“We can figure it out tomorrow.” He just nods, shifting himself under the covers.

“Hmm.” You feel the sound melt into the top of your head as he presses another kiss to your hair. “There is an explanation that would comply with both our interests.”

“And that is?”

“After a long night of negotiation, I was finally able to convince you to accept the contract of building a Jedi training academy on your home planet. One that I would personally oversee, hence the need for overnight accomodation.” You shoot up out of bed, bringing the sheet up only to cover the bare minimum of your chest.

“You what?” He smiles and leans up on his forearm.

“That was another reason I was here. They know your expertise exceeds your diplomacy - and they still talk about how much of a loss it was, when you left. The council wants you to come back, in a sense.” You think you were about to cry. “It was my suggestion, my first when I made council, to consider the construction of the Jedi academy here. It is just as safe as Coruscant, and with you as a ruler, the Force is just as strong. It would be a chance for you to live the life you dreamed of, while also adhering to your duties.”

You were crying. Definitely crying. Obi-Wan sat up and wiped a tear from your face, his brows pressed together in worry.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, I-”

“Upset me? This is the most incredible thing I... Maker, why didn’t you tell me earlier!?” He blinks a few times, and goes to speak but you cut him off, excitement taking over your need for sleep. “Of course I want to do that! It’s - that would be - wow, there’s so much I would need to do! I am so out of practise, I hardly even meditate anymore. Oh, and the council would need to-”

Obi-Wan kisses you, probably to shut you up, but you can feel him smiling underneath your lips.

“Why didn’t you say something?” You whisper to him, and a small blush appears across his face in the dim light of the room.

“I was distracted.” His eyes drop to where the sheet hangs loosely across your chest, and you breath a laugh. “Would you - the council sent me here to assess. See if I would be open to teaching here, if you would be, us, together. In the future, they even spoke of a Padawan-”

“I- I can’t believe this. I- all I ever wanted was to do this. You know that, right? My dream was to train, to work with the council, fight for what was right, and to share that with others.”

“I know. That is why I suggested you, not that they needed much convincing. You were the golden child.” You laugh tearily. The idea of getting to have that life back, while also being able to grow everything you have worked for since returning home. You let your weight fall into Obi-Wan, and he tucks you back into the bed, soft covers gliding along your skin.

“There’s so much we need to talk about.” You mumble, eye closed, already half asleep.

“We can figure it out tomorrow.” He repeats to you, and his breathing begins to even out behind you.

Everything you had ever dreamt of had practically come true, and it was fitting that it had all started with Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had been the source of almost every single happy memory in your life, and beginning this new chapter with him by your side, you knew that he would be responsible for the rest of them, too.

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan fic #obi wan x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan x you #obi wan x y/n #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan #obi-wan X reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan kenobi x reader

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necros-writing-stuff · 2 months

Note

I discovered the cage scene today. My wolf PC was stuck on that random island for over 3 weeks (the RNG was not kind to me) after being thrown overboard by Zephyr’s crew. My poor PC spent the whole time being assaulted by islanders and cat people, being spanked by foliage, surviving off walnuts, and getting forcefully tattooed. We were crying about missing Eden the whole time, looking at our love locket picture of his grumpy face and bawling whilst setting up camp.

Finally, when my wolf PC made it off the island and back to town with that stupid spear thing—still wearing ceremonial rags and mask and all—we made our way through an alley. As my PC walked, they thought to themself: “I’ll just take this to the temple and immediately go back to the cabin. I can’t wait to see the forest husb- ❤️” They suddenly shudder.

We’re abruptly stopped by the “Someone is hunting you message” in bold red. I froze because I was not expecting it at all.

“Time to go home.” A familiar voice growls. Here I am thinking “Yay! Forest husband!” all the while Eden is angrily dragging us into a cage.

Needless to say, my wolf PC found the cage very therapeutic after being lost in the vast sea for weeks. The enclosed space really brought out their domestic side and gave them a sense of security. No worrying about survival and being ravaged by islanders, just spread your legs—tail wagging and belly presented—for forest husband and let him take care of you. ❤️ Tail wagging even faster every time he says “you have duties to fulfill.”

The collar also made them feel protected through Eden’s ownership. Wolf PC is never taking the collar off again. ❤️

I loved the event. I could honestly imagine my PC bawling their eyes out and hugging Eden so tightly when he found them. What would Eden’s reaction be if he were angry because PC went missing for too long, found them, but they just ran up to him and bawled their eyes out into his coat because something horrible happened to them? Would he calm down a bit if they did? Thanks for blessing the game with this scene though. My wolf PC and I enjoyed it. ❤️ The timing for it to happen was so perfect, I’m shook. 😂

I'm so honoured you loved it so much, it was a lot of effort to write!

Eden's reaction to PC coming up to him sobbing I'm guessing would be to get them away from the town first and foremost (you're going over his shoulder again. He's getting tears and snot on his coat about it but it's alright). The anger still wells up inside of him, because he warned you. He told you that bad things would happen if you left him, and you left anyway.

So he has to still punish you. You still have to go in the cage, you still have to do as you're told. You need to fully learn where is safest - and this is the best way.

Though he can't deny the anger that makes his skin itch at the thought of you being hurt. He wants to retaliate for you. He knows he can't. He can't burn the world for its cruelty. He's just one man.

#spill your guts #anonymous #eden the hunter #cw noncon #cw abduction #cw monster people #gn reader

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lillysdreaminnn · 1 month

Text

Vows.

Pairing; Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Warnings; none, just tooth rotting fluff with the Hotchner boys :)

Summary; you and Aaron are getting married and it's time to say your vows.

A/n; reblogs and comments are always welcome 💗

It was yours and Aaron's wedding, the day you've been waiting for for such a long time.

Aaron was about to say his vows, when little footsteps ran next to him, standing proudly next to his daddy. You smiled a the little boy and subtly waved at jack, your heart beating out of your chest.

He started his vows, saying all the sweetest things you could think of, a wide smile on his face and a few tears rolling down his face.

"Uhm..." He paused, looking up to keep the happy tears at bay. The team was in the front row, smiling - and crying - as they had never seen Aaron so happy or emotional before.

"I love you unconditionally. You're the light at the end of the darkest tunnel, the spark of hope I had been waiting for. I promise to always protect you from all dangers in the world; ranging from a spider on the wall to an angry killer."

Aaron spoke gently, his voice wavering as he looked into your eyes, smiling at how beautiful you looked in your wedding dress.

"You look beautiful." He whispered at the end of his vows, as he passed the small leather notebook to the little boy next to him.

Before you could reply, jack stepped in front of his father, looking up at you.

"Y/n... You look very pretty today." Jack started, reading off the small notebook his dad passed him.

Your jaw dropped to the floor and you couldn't believe your ears; jack had his own vows for you?

"Thank you, honey." You whispered, smiling at the little boy in front of you - who wasn't so little anymore, as he was close to ten years old.

"I knew you were the one for dad when you told me your favourite superhero was Spiderman." That made you laugh, loving the memory. "And when you did that magic trick with the coin that I'll find out how you did."

You mouthed an 'ill tell you', winking at the little boy, making him giggle happily.

"Ever since dad found you he has been smiling a lot more and I'm happy he's happy. You're the best mom and I love you." Jack finished his vows to you.

You crouched to his level, not caring about the dress at the time, and opened your arms, letting the little man ran into them. You held jack tightly, trying your absolute best not to sob - makeup was expensive after all.

"I love you too, honey. So much. I'm glad I can make you and your dad happy; it's all I need in life." You said with a smile, kissing jack's cheek sweetly.

Being your turn to say your vows, you stood up straight and looked at Aaron with a wide smile.

"Aaron." You started, looking at the man in front of you, before looking at the boy next to him, "and Jack." You smirked, making jack smile widely. You spoke your vows, making Aaron positively cry out of pure happiness.

In the end, you crouched to jack's level once again, motioning for him to come to you - which he did without second thoughts.

"Jack, honey. Marrying you dad means that, in a way, I'm marrying you too. I promise, pinky promise even, to keep him safe and put of trouble. And I promise to keep you safe too. I promise to always bake you those cookies that you love and to always, always, get you every Spiderman figurine and dvd I find."

Jack laughed at your last vow to him, nodding happily. "I love you so much, jack, and I'm honoured to be your step mom." You finished your vows, planting a kiss on jack's head.

The wedding and the after-party was over and it was just you and Aaron in your hotel room.

Leaving for your honeymoon tomorrow meant you needed a lot of sleep to get her through the day.

So, you were both in bed, your head on Aaron's chest and his arm around your body as you both relaxed after the newlywed activities.

"Those vows to jack were very sweet, darling." Aaron mumbled, kissing your head gently, making you smile. "And his vows to me were sweet too." You giggled.

"What I said stands, though. I love you two with all my heart. I promise to protect you." You said while looking up at your husband.

And you kept that promise till the very end.

#aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader

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flyingspacewhale93 · 11 months

Text

Jing Yuan/AFAB!Reader pregnancy headcanon

CW: Pregnancy, childbirth, some spicy kissing but otherwise its sfw (Also might be a bit OOC but men crying is hot af)

No Beta I decided to yeet this out into the world

Word Count: 732

From the minute you announce your pregnancy to Jing Yuan he never leaves your side. His lips trail up and down your stomach. “My seed… your eggs...are creating new life.” He says in a reverent tone as tears fill his eyes. “It's a miracle.”

He is obsessed with the child growing inside of you. He reads pregnancy articles on his phone practically every night. “Look, from the minute our DNA joined cells have been growing and dividing inside you. They all joined together to create a little creature the size of a small berry.” He kisses your stomach. “Even human fetuses can briefly grow fur and tails while in the womb.”

When that little creature causes you morning sickness, Jing Yuan is right by your side. “Easy, sweetheart. This trial will help our child grow.” He brings you a cup of water and a damp cloth for your face afterwards. “Your body is so strong for being able to support two lives at once.”

“I don’t think I’m strong. I can barely smell food without puking most days.” You murmur weakly. “Just when will I be able to eat again?”

Jing Yuan is strict about your diet for the good of your baby. He has the medical staff recommend you the best prenatal vitamins and only cooks what would be healthy for them. Spicy foods are forbidden, a fact that makes you grumble. However when the pregnancy cravings arise, he lets you have whatever you wish within moderation. He constantly checks the list of safe foods every time you are hungry.

“For such a lazy general, you sure monitor our health better than I do!” You joke.

“It is the duty of a general to make sure that his army is prepared for the battle ahead.” He smiles.

“It’s a battle to convince you to let me eat unhealthy food once in a while.” Your hand rests on your baby bump. “Still, I can’t believe our child is growing so fast.”

When Jing Yuan sees your child on the ultrasound and hears their heartbeat for the first time, he cries. He goes to every medical appointment with you and listens intently. When you do your exercises to prepare for labour, he helps you through them. Sometimes birds land near you while you work out and Jing Yuan lets them perch on his hand.

One night, you wake up crying from a bad dream. He sleepily places his arms around you as you sob. “I-I dreamed I-I grew fat and ugly and you didn’t love me anymore! You had them give me the ‘husband stitch’ and now I woke you up and made you sad!” You wail, tears falling down your cheeks.

Jing Yuan shushes you. “Sweetheart, being able to enter you is both a privilege and an honour. You don’t need to be tight for me to enjoy you. As for your body, well,” His lips draw close to your ear. “I find it even more sexy by the day.”

He marvels at every new change your body goes through, making sure to kiss every mark that he finds each night. “These marks remind me of rivers.” He murmurs. “Indeed, it's like I’m staring at a topographical map of you.” A devious smirk crosses his face. “Where would be a good spot for the general to attack? Here, or here?” The noise you let out from his kiss proves to be a direct hit.

Your baby gets read to everyday by him, often when he’s busy babyproofing the house. He recites stories seemingly off the top of his head. He wants your baby to grow up well read and compassionate.

“I wonder what our baby would choose for their path.” You say.

“No matter what they choose, I’d love them all the same.” He says.

When the Big Day finally comes, Jing Yuan is all action. He grabs the overnight bag that you two made together and races off to the medical center with you in his arms. He holds your hand through every contraction, humming little songs as you prepare to push. Jing Yuan is used to long sieges so he’s always alert. He encourages you to push strong and hard for his family. Finally, the baby takes their first cry and he smiles serenely with tears in his eyes. Jing Yuan whispers “May you be a thoughtful, strong leader.”

#honkai star rail #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail fanfic

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youtifulhobi · 2 months

Text

The Last Train [PJM]

➴ Pairing: reader x Park Jimin (platonic; familial) | WC: 1.7k | Genre: angst, h/c | Rating: G (general)

➴ Warnings: grieving/grief; major character death (already happened prior to story; death is just the main theme of this fic), death (obviously)

➴ Tags: death, grief, hurt/comfort, train conductor!jimin, train!conductor reader, grandfather!jimin, grandchild!reader [gender neutral], major character death

➴ Summary: Upon the end of your grandfather's life, you seek closure and begin a life without him.

➴ Author's note: this is a very personal story. I lost my grandparent six months ago and it's all been downhill from there, but it's time for me to get up off the floor. I understand that not everyone grieves the same way I do (namely to put it into writing and publish it), but this was also written for anyone who's lost a loved one and needs comfort. Please don't yell at me for not writing something a certain way -- this was written as a form of self-comfort and serves as a goodbye to my grandparent. NOT BETA READ.

Based off the poem The Train of My Life by Jean d'Ormesson.

Do not redistribute or plagiarise on any other platforms (including but not limited to wattpad, youtube, instagram, facebook). I only use tumblr and AO3 as of the time of posting. If I find my work plagiarised or redistributed without consent, I will not hesitate to take legal action.

“It’s been a pleasure, fellow Conductor.” a voice sounds near your ear, warm and comforting.

You swivel in your chair to find a familiar figure standing near the sliding door, hands clasped together in front of him.

“What do you mean?” you ask, not bothering to hide the quaking in your voice.

“I mean that my stop is next. That we’ll be arriving at my station soon, and it’s time for me to go.” A sad smile mars an elderly gentleman’s face, shattering the peaceful façade.

Tears well up in your eyes and you pull the brakes as hard as you can, unwilling to go even a metre further. The train screeches to a halt, wheels groaning against the metal tracks as sparks fly from the friction between the two.

“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head. “No, I won’t let you go.”

His smile widens further, but his eyes offer a glimpse into his true emotions. He hurts as much as you, if not more. He’s known you since you were still in your mother’s stomach, after all. Has fought for you, loved you, since the moment he learned of your existence. Has sheltered you, raised you, nurtured you, laughed with you, and wiped your tears away when you were sad.

“Grandpa, please,” you beg. “Just a little more time. Just a few minutes. That’s all I ask.”

“But a few minutes will turn into more, and then we’ll be at a standstill, my dear,” he says gently. “When it comes to those we love, even forever isn’t enough.”

Your lower lip trembles as you fight to keep a sob from escaping. He’s not wrong. In fact, that’s precisely why it feels like your heart is entrapped in a vice-like grip. “Please don’t leave me.”

“My little one,” he says simply, eyes shining with unshed tears as he lifts his arms. You don’t hesitate, crossing the short distance between you in two bounds and into his embrace. “My sweet, beautiful, kind-hearted little bird.”

He strokes your hair lovingly as you press your face into the polo shirt he loves to wear at home, the piqué fabric greedily soaking up your tears.

You hold his waist with one hand, the other resting on his back as you return the embrace. He continues to soothe you, whispering while he waits for you to collect yourself.

“You can’t leave yet, grandpa,” you mumble into his chest. “I haven’t finished honouring my familial duties to you.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asks.

“I treated you horribly when I was a teenager. I flung your hand away every time you reached for it. I said things I wish I never said, but can’t take back. I wished terrible things on you when I thought you were being unfair. I even wished for your—”

“My little bird,” he says again, lifting your chin to meet your eyes. You look away, unable to meet his gaze. “Look at grandpa. Please.”

You do as you’re told.

“We have all done things we regret in life. Grandpa has never once blamed you for anything you did. Ah-ah,” he starts when you begin to protest. “I don’t want to hear it. You are my beloved grandchild. I don’t hold it against you. I never have, and never will, even for a second. We are all foolish when we are teenagers. You do, you regret, you learn from your mistakes, you move on. This is what grandpa has taught you. Do you remember?”

You nod meekly, tears continuing to flow down your cheeks.

“Grandpa loves you. And you love grandpa. This is what is truly important. Your actions spoke louder than your words. I know you loved me then, and you love me even more now. You have grown so much, and I am very proud of you. I know you did not truly mean what you said then. We never do when we are emotional, and you were quite angry during your teenage years, weren’t you?”

You flush at the memories that arise from his words. He chuckles lightheartedly. “Forgive an old man for his cheekiness.”

“Anything for you,” you reply simply. He beams at that, his smile wider than it has been in a long time.

“And that, my little bird, is what I mean when I say you have a heart of gold. You have always been kind. Kind to a fault, really. You forgive and forget when you should only forgive, and people have taken advantage of your gentle nature. You are too sweet. You must learn to protect yourself. Be kind, but have a backbone. Bite back when you need to. Being magnanimous does not equate being a doormat. Be like grandpa.”

A fresh wave of grief washes over you, and you cling to him like it’s the last thing you’ll be able to do.

He rests his head on top of yours, blinking back the evidence of his own anguish as he swallows hard. It hurts him just as much to leave you, if not more, but with his earthly duties finished, he has no choice but to leave.

“There’s so much more I wanted to do with you,” you say sadly. “I just got my memories back, and you’re…I mean, our journey is ending. I wanted to reminisce with you more and ask you advice like you always wanted me to do and—”

Your voice quivers and breaks as denial finally breaks its hold over you. Your grandfather is leaving, his story continuing only through the legacy he’s left on this earth, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. No amount of begging, holding, pleading, or wails of agony will delay his departure, even if you both desperately want him to stay with you.

Your grandfather tucks a finger under your chin to peer at your face and smiles bitterly, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. You bite your lower lip, vision blurring as you sniffle.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything that’s happened in the past,” you hear him say. “The past is in the past. What’s important is how we move on from our mistakes and learn from them.”

He brings your attention to a digital clock that has begun counting down the time you have left. 15 minutes. 14:57.

You blink. 13:53. That can’t be right. You can’t have wasted one minute just staring at the bright red numbers instead of memorising every last centimetre of your grandfather’s face. No matter. You’ll regret it later. You have to make the most of what’s left.

Steeling your resolve, you pull back in your grandfather’s embrace and look at him determinedly, furrowing your eyebrows. He lets out a laugh at something only he can see, and you feel the corners of your lips quirk up at his infectious joy. You think your grandfather is the most perfect human being to exist, albeit having his flaws. He has helped countless people over the course of his life, giving advice, comfort, and financial assistance to those who needed it. He made mistakes and bumbled his way through life at times, but never once did he let his mistakes hold him back.

He taught you to keep moving forward, even if it felt like the sky was crumbling.

You spend the rest of the time you have holding him close, murmuring your innermost thoughts and listening to his voice, not noticing when he leans over to the control panel and disengages the brakes, allowing the train to begin moving forward again.

It is only when a gentle chime sounds, echoing throughout the train, and a pre-recorded voice announces that the train has arrived at the last station that you realise your time is up.

Fresh tears well in your eyes when your grandfather squeezes your hand tightly, tugging you along to the door. Mutely, you follow him and step off the train, wrinkling your eyebrows when you see a new train on the opposite side of the platform.

“That’s your train, little bird,” your grandfather says. “Your journey with me is over, and it’s time to take control of your own train. It has followed you the whole time you were on mine. You have a life to live, a train of yours to drive. You will have passengers that get on and get off. You may promote some to co-conductors and demote them. This is all part of the train of life.”

He pulls you to him, holding you so tight that you can’t breathe, but releases you after a moment. “Fly free, my little bird. When it’s your time, I will be waiting at your station to welcome you home.”

Tears spill over and follow a pre-ordained path down your face as you step off your grandfather’s train and onto your own. It feels wrong, but you know it’s the right thing to do. You must move on, no matter how difficult it is.

The doors are closing. Please step back. You listen to the disembodied announcer and watch, smiling through your tears, as your grandfather-less train begins to move and leave his station. His waving form grows smaller and smaller, until nothing but the darkness of a tunnel surrounds the train. You’ve officially left him behind.

Letting out a long exhale, you wipe your eyes and your nose before entering your conductor’s cabin, where you freeze.

On one of the chairs lies a framed photo of you and your grandfather, with a note on top that reads:

To my precious little bird. I could have never asked for a better grandchild. Even if I could spend eternity with you, it would still not be enough. You are my pride and joy. Finish your duties thoroughly and leave as few regrets as possible. Do not rush through them to find me. I am an important but not the only part of your life. You still have much to look forward to. I love you. See you soon.

As you read the second last line of his letter, your train exits the tunnel into a beautifully sunny field with his favourite flowers lining either side of the meadow.

Momentarily blinded, you hold a hand to shield your face and squint against the sudden onslaught of light before turning your attention to the last line of the letter he left you.

Love, Grandpa (Park Jimin).

MList

#bts fanfiction #fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #jimin #bts #bts angst #jimin angst #park jimin angst #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #bts x reader

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safetycar-restart · 6 months

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 25: COLLARING [FABIO QUARTARARO X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with sub!Fabio and dom!reader. If you are under 18 or uninterested, scroll past. Alternatively, if you like what you see here then consider checking out my blog :))

This work forms part of a kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. We also discuss the concepts in more detail on my blog so if you have any thoughts, feel free to stop by!

(I added this day JUST so that I could write this fic because Fabio's pearl necklace has infected my brain and now it's everyone else's problem)

Fabio has always been interesting in submitting, and he's had many doms before you (not all of whom treated him well by the way, but that's a whole other fic). But it wasn't until you that fabio really understood collaring.

He's always enjoyed submission, always felt better when he had someone to take care of him. But it wasn't until you that he actually wanted to belong to someone. He didnt just want to submit to you, he wanted to be yours. Always. He doesn't stop being yours when the scene ends. He is yours, he can't just turn it off.

And he LOVES when you make him feel owned outside of scenes too, so so much. When you text him to ask if he ate breakfast and then call him a good boy when he says he has, or when you take him his hand and lead him somewhere, when you give him a forehead before he gets on the bike. He just... he feels so warm and fuzzy and safe and like he belongs to you, and it's the best.

So obviously, collaring comes up in conversation.

I think it would start as putting a collar on him during scenes, and fabio LOVES it. His collar is his prized possession, and he never ever scenes without it. But, he hates taking it off?

It's just a simply black collar with a little gold ring in the front, and fabio adores it. He feels so good when he wears it, like he's truly your sub and the best boy ever.

He goes through aftercare with the collar on of course, you'd never take that off him before he's ready. But eventually the collar does have to be removed, because he can't exactly go out with that collar on.

And every single time, he feels so bad? Even when he's 100% recovered from the scene and is perfectly okay, the moment you go to take his collar off he's whining and crying and begging you not to. It breaks your heart because you have to take it off. He'll spend the next hour or two in your arms, sniffling every now and then as he tries to recover from not having your collar on anymore.

You have to talk to him about it of course, and you're so worried because you see how distressed he is when you have to remove his collar and you begin to wonder if the enjoyment of the collar is really worth it when he reacts like this at the end.

Fabio just breaks when you say that, because no? No, no you gave him a collar! You cant take that from him now.

"Was I bad?" he asks, voice so small, "what did I do wrong? Please don't take my collar, please please I'm sorry."

You try to comfort him and explain that you're just worried about how distressed he is when you have to remove the collar, and you think that's cancelling out the good feelings he gets from the scene.

Fabio is quiet for a moment, and then he just softly asks, "I just don't want to take my collar off."

That's the first time you consider permanently collaring fabio, and you don't know if he's ready for that commitment. But you decide to ask him, because your poor sub is so sad.

He shoots up the moment you ask, "Really? You'd collar me permanently?"

You tell him that you would, that you'd find a nice day collar that he'd never have to take off, that you'd be honoured for him to wear your collar full time. You've barely even finished the sentence before you've got a sobbing fabio in your arms, clinging to you and mumbling his thanks over and over again, unable to stop because he can be collared full time!!

Fabio expects the collar to be a simple necklace, or maybe a small strip of leather. But you refuse to tell him anything, promising him that you'll give it to him the moment it arrives.

Not even for one moment does he expect the collar to be a pearl necklace.

When you show him, he just stares in wonder. You... it's so pretty?

"Of course," you tell him, "only the prettiest for my pretty boy."

Which... now you have a sobbing sub in your arms again BECAUSE PRETTY PEARL COLLAR!!

You put it on him and he's so happy. For the rest of the night he's always bringing his hand up to his neck to double check that the collar is still there. It's absolutely perfect for him, and he couldnt be happier with his collar.

Now when he scenes with you, there's no panic when it ends because his collar will always remain on.

And he's also so much more confident in general? Cause he's owned now! He's officially your good boy at all times.

#kinktober tag #sub!fabio #fq #fabio quartararo x reader #fabio quartararo imagine #fabio quartararo #motogp x reader #motogp imagine

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p-oisn · 3 months

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✪ moot appreciation time ! tag some of your fav moots and share what you love about them ! then place this in other blogs asks !

okay I tried including as many ppl as possible but these are the ones I can list from the top of my head / interact w the most so </3

@pupicito : SUUPER CUTE ACC ??? like every mb is so unique n cool everyone should frame fish's mbs on their wall 🤕 n also so supportive like every post of theirs deserves a billion notes . alsososo thee most fun person to talk to ever 😞 js so sweet I wake up solely to look at fish's mbs they are so perfect i could talk abt them forever

@wiotas : I was acc so happy when I found out we knew each otber from like late 2022 ish i forgot ... (you knew me since my wannabe edgy phase but 😨) bc i rmb wanting to be your friend so bad bc you seemed so cool n now we're moots ?!?! you're so sweet liek omg ☹️☹️☹️ you always are so supportive n everytime you use my mbs as your theme i feel like biting into a brick wall BC WDYM you like my mbs enough to use them as your theme that's such an honour coming from you esp ?! 😞

@y-vna : DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ??? like oooh I'm so happy to have ari as a moot I don't even know what I did to deserve her 😞 n also you have such stunning jaw dropping toe curling stomach churning mbs like omg ???? giggling everytime I get an mb from from you bc it's literally like a blessing 🤞🏼🤞🏼 n js soo supportive

@jeonzio : scremaing and yelling everytime I look at your acc bc everything and I mean EVERYTHING abt is soooo pretty n pleasing to look at ?? you're soo sweet n also the cutest person ever !! idk what else to say but like live laugh love tee 🤕 I will forever cherish every single one of our interactions bc they are simply the cutest

@koosuvi : YOU'RE SOOO SUPPORTIVE SOBS I lovelovelove every single one of your compliments they make me want to start jumping around my room giggling 😞 n also you quite literally have one of THEE prettiest accs on tumblr like omg pls teach ... your mbs are always out of this world 😖😖 I love you n everything ab your blog never stop posting plz ill cry

@yeritos : JUNEEE my fav my fav my fav ☹️ the best nctzen on this app ugh there aren't enough words to describe my love for you 😞 your mbs are literally soooo gorgeous omg i was screaming n crying when you followed me back bc im literally your #1 fan . you're sososo nice n amazing n everything 🌸 I love waking up to your mbs everyday n eating my yeritos meal 🍴

@tookio : ONE OF THE BEST MOODBOARD CREATORS ON THIS APP literally no one comes close i mean it 😞 your entire account is sooo stunning like you really deserves ALLL the love in the world !! n omg how I love your comments they make my day soo much better I love you so much for that istg :(

@jaes1lvr : literally hugs n kisses to mely 🫂 /p one of my biggest supporters too n js super sweet 😞 your mbs are js sooo unique I wish I could plaster it on my forehead so everyone in the world could see them 😡😡 I will forever be grateful for your overwhelming support like omg <33

@s-heon : super cool person that i really really really admire 🤔 like omg i could talk abt how grateful I am to you for hours, days even bc you were like my biggest inspo ever while starting out n also your mbs 🔛🔝 im so happy I ever found your blog it has such a special place in my heart 🤕💓 i loev you to the moon n back .

#ㅤ𝆬ㅤ ㅤ◌ㅤㅤׅㅤinboxㅤ₍ᐢ ᐢ₎

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