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delulustateofmind · 4 months

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Potions & Shadows (Part IV SMUT)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leading to Feyre needing the once-village apothecaries' help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: THERE'S SMUT! Just a warning before you read, I am still learning how to write smut. Seriously if someone could create a writers workshop for that, that would be amazing. Feel free to skip if you are not comfortable with smut. This takes place after the first high lord meeting in ACOWAR. Hope you all enjoy, because I was a blushing mess writing this thing.

part one, part two, part three

Word Count: 2.5k

Taglist: @cherry-cin, @sassybluebird, @aehllitas-blog

** Minors DO NOT INTERACT under the cut pls! **

Warnings: Fingering, pet names (Princess, sweetness), mild swearing, lots of repeated words. Oral. Praise. Squirting. Let me know if I'm missing any!!

Azriel had flown off into the night after that disaster of a High Lord meeting. Perhaps he was the cause for the events to turn so sour especially when he had choked a certain High Lord’s son. The male was practically begging for it, for throwing a comment like that to Mor or perhaps it was the comment he had whispered in Azriel’s ear when he throttled the son into the ground, “You smell like an elven whore”. After the meeting had adjourned and Mor beckoned to Helion’s room, the noises shared between the two just caused his mood to turn colder. As long as he was back in time for the meeting tomorrow morning, Rhys could give two shits what he did with his time. Which led him to the healer’s cottage.

You had your silk white robe tied loosely around your body, as the moon shone upon you, creating a soft glow on your skin and rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you opened the door for him. The moment he saw you, he was silently thanking the mother that you could not scent the arousal and pent-up frustration that radiated off of his body. Azriel crept closer to you and softly murmured.

“Can we speak in private?” His hand reaches to push a strand of hair behind your ear, earning a blush from your cheeks. Azriel could hear your pounding heartbeat and the way you looked at him with a mixture of sleepiness and confusion. You simply nodded and ushered him quietly to your room. You wondered if he would even fit in the room. However surprising that he did, you cast a spell around the room to keep any noise from escaping. Azriel’s typical warm eyes were darkened.

You wrapped your robe more securely around yourself, yet Azriel could still see the soft buds of your breasts through the sheer fabric. He quickly directed his gaze elsewhere, his cheeks flushing with heat. You noticed the tension in his posture and the shadows that seemed to move faster, swirling around him. He loomed in the small space of your humble bedroom, seeming larger than usual with his wings folded tightly against his back.

“Azriel,” you began softly, even cautiously, “what’s wrong? Aren’t you supposed to be at the meeting?”

Azriel didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he paced the length of the room. His boots, were heavy on the ground with each step, his entire presence overwhelming in the confined space. Finally, he stopped, facing you, his expression a mixture of frustration and something deeper-something raw and unguarded.

“I need…” His voice was a low rumble, the words catching his throat as if he was struggling to find the right ones. To perhaps not scare you as a primal growl was pushed back. “I need to be away from them. From all of it. Just for a while.”

You stepped closer, and your heart that thundered in your chest. The way he looked at you with those dark golden eyes, with such intensity, made your breath catch. “What happened?”

Azriel, the one everyone thought was the most calm and collected of the inner circle, quickly lost all sense of restraint by how close you were. His gaze settled on your collarbone and then back to your watercolor eyes that seemed to shine from the creeping moonlight. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “A lot. Too much.” He shook his head, a hand running through his dark curls. Something that he has done too many times tonight by the looks of it. The way they trousled, yet still seemed alluring. His entire presence was captivating, to say the least. “Things were said. Actions taken. And now…I need to not think.”

You understood. Sometimes the world around us was too loud. Sometimes you needed the world to quiet down, for peace to overcome you. Yet, this was something you haven’t seen in him, in his stoic exterior. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, which caused him to freeze a little as his gaze lowered to your neck again. “I’m here for you, Azriel. You’re free to speak freely.” You whispered to him softly.

His response rattled you, heat flushed you as his words spook lowly, “And can I act freely?” He whispered, His gaze still on your neck, his eyes softening just a fraction.

Was the air in the room always this heavy? Had your heart always been this loud, like a war drum set for battle? Have you always felt this emotion? How about the heat pooling within your body?

Questions pondered you, holding your tongue, but you nodded your head yes.

Without another word, he pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if you were his lifeline. You could feel the hardness of his muscles, years, even centuries of training, causing tension to coil within him. His lips brushed against your neck as a sound you’ve never made before escaped your lips when you felt him bite down. Time seemed to stand still in that moment, as if the outside world had ceased to exist, leaving the two of you in the heat of a moment. A feeling you have never felt before as he licked the bite mark, the blood that trickled slightly. When he looked up at you with those golden, hazel eyes with the blood-stained on the corner of his mouth, Azriel shifted slightly, enough to look at you, his gaze searching yours.

You could barely breathe, caught between the intensity of his gaze and the primal connect that surged between you. His fingers traced your jaw to the back of your neck, his touch both gentle and possessive. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, his voice rough with need and laced with a whine as you pressed closer into him.

“Oh how I’d worship you,” he muttered as his eyes scanned your features, perhaps waiting for a confirmation that you were okay with this, “Have you ever been with a male? Have you ever been touched or kissed?” His words made your heart flutter but you quietly muttered that you haven’t as your voice trembled.

“I haven’t had the feeling to ever…do that sort of thing,” You whispered, those words seemed to have ignited a feeling inside him because his voice had a hint of something feral.

“How about now,” he gently nuzzled his face into the nape of your neck as his fingers moved to caress your collarbone. Pushing the robe slightly, causing your breath to hitch.

“You are making me feel things that I have never felt before. Things that make me feel hot and heavy,” Your words came out laced with anticipation. A rush of emotions overwhelmed you as you whispered to him, “but I’d be willing to…feel these emotions with you.”

The answer Azriel was waiting for he nipped your neck. Another whimper escaped your lips. With a growl, his fingers traveled back to your chin lifting slightly so his lips could meet yours. Captured, into a kiss that was gentle, yet demanding. Your body reacted upon instinct, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing closer to him, feeling the roughness of his leathers pressing against the thin fabric of your robe.

He gently lifted you into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. Both your breaths ragged in-between rough kisses, he carried you in his arms to the bed. The world outside faded entirely as he laid you down genly, his body hovering over yours, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation. When he found none, he gently whispered in your ear.

“Are you sure? We can always stop here,” he asked, his breath hot against your skin.

“Yes,” you breathed, your hands raching up to tangle in his hair, pulling his down to you.

With that, Azriel’s control snapped. His lips had descended on yours again, his hands roamed your body, pushing your robe aside. His skilled scarred fingers finding your perky buds. Tuggling gently, as your breath would hitch, he broke your kiss to travel to the small bud he was playing with.

“So beautiful,” he groaned as he licked the bud gently, earning another whimper from you as you covered your eyes, “None of that love, don’t ever hide those gorgeous eyes from me.” You looked down at him, panting like a dog in heat.

What was this feeling and why did you feel so obsessed?

Azriel continued to torment your breasts with his rough hands. Torment, might not be the best word, in fact, it would be worship. As he would suckle on them, pinch them, lick the lingering sensitivity away. Leaving gentle nip marks that looked like small cherry blossom leaves.

Yet, Azriel did not stop there. As his kisses descended upon your body, his markings upon your body seemed to trickle down to the pool of heat between your legs. Using both his hands, he spread your legs apart. His golden eyes meeting yours once more for confirmation, you gave a simple nod.

“Not uh, princess, I need words,” he muttered as his head laid against your thigh. His gaze set upon you, “Let me hear that beautiful voice of yours.” He gently nipped your inner thigh and licked the spot to relieve some of the pain.

“Please…just…touch me, relieve me of this heat” You whimpered, everything felt so warm. So overwhelming. This new feeling of passion.

“Good girl,” Azriel muttered before planting kisses, everywhere else but the place you wanted. Gently pushing your wet panties aside, his gaze still fixated upon you. Dragging one scarred finger between your slit. Your breath hitched as you whimpered out another moan and a curse. His name was like a prayer on your tongue as he kissed that bundle of nerves.

Azriel had been with many women in the past, but right now in this very moment, he was sure he had never experienced a taste like this. You tasted as if you were ambrosia made for the gods, leaving him eating like a man starved. Your whimpers only encourage him. His eyes closed as he rutted against the bed. If he didn’t have years of restraint, he was sure he would have came in his pants the moment your sweet juices touched his tongue that he kept sliding inside you.

One of your hands was grasping his that was resting upon your lower abandon as if you were holding it for dear life or perhaps to ensure you could not run away. Your other hand was gripping the sheets, squeezing with your might. You felt his other hand between your legs spreading your swollen lips to slide a finger into you. As Azriel lifted his head up, revealing your juices that glistened in the moonlight on his beautiful face.

“Now princess, you’ve never came before right?” Azriel said gently as he stroked that finger within you, pressing on your walls. Your gaze met his as you shook your head no, not sure whether words could form out of your mouth anymore. The feeling of his finger, causes warmth to build up within you. Azriel, could not believe how wet you were, you were practically flowing. Pushing down his own needs, he continued, “I’m going to talk you through it okay? I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I could fit for a while. So we're going to go really slow and ease you up so that one day. Not tonight. I could enjoy the pleasure of being in you. Keep your eyes on me the entire time princess, don’t you dare close them.” his words came out with a husky growl. A need for him to be inside you, to feel those walls clasp onto him as they were currently holding his finger tightly.

You nodded, as his gently motioned his finger inside you, keeping it shallow as he pressed against your upper wall. Another moan was earned as the room seemed to now be filled with squelches and other lewd noises. You panted, cheeks flushed, as he held his gaze on yours with a smirk. “Comfortable? Feel good, sweetness?” Azriel groaned as he looked at the wetness seeping out of you and then settled his gaze back on you. “See, I am trying to find your sweet spot, everyone is different but everyone has a spot that-” his fingers traveled deeper, keeping the same pressure until he found it. Your eyes rolled back as he kept applying pressure to that spot. Pure pleasure and relentless torment on that spot. Your walls tightened to the point where he wasn’t sure if he could move them anymore, “Relax princess,” he chuckled. You whimpered in return to his comment. Noises that sounded so lewd, noises you have never made in your three hundred years. “I’m going to speed up okay?” Azriel’s motions sped up and pressed a bit on your lower abdomen earning a silent scream from your lips as hot liquid gushed out.

A virgin and a squirter? Mother above save him.

You blacked out moments later, the intensity of the night and the overwhelming emotions taking their toll on your body. Azriel gently cleaned you up with a towel, his touch tender and careful not to wake you. He tucked you into bed, watching your peaceful face for a moment before heading to the restroom attached to your bedroom to take care of his own needs. Thankful that you had your own bathroom, in concern about how Madja might react to finding out he had kept her new healer up all night.

When finished with preparing for bed, for a least a few hours, Azriel climbed into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and feeling your warmth against him, those concerns melted away. He nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing in your soothing scent, and for the first time that night, he felt a sense of peace.

While the night had been filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the formation of new feelings, and overwhelming emotions, there was a connection between you that both of you desperately needed. In each other’s arms, you found solace and a sense of belonging that had been missing.

Azriel was determined to make the most of the night, with only a few hours left to enjoy your comfort. He wanted to ensure you knew you were cherished and not taken advantage of. He made a mental note to send you flowers in the morning, perhaps a tea as well for all the markings he left upon you. A gesture of sorts to show his care and the growing need for you to be his.

With a contented sigh, Azriel closed his eyes, allowing the rhythmic sound of your breathing to lull him into a restful sleep. The moonlight cast a gentle glow over both of you.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar azriel #shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel fic

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peterparkouryo · 1 year

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operation, distract | ﹒⪩⪨﹒

﹒⪩⪨﹒

prompt; You're second best in every class you have with Peter Parker, and you decide that has to change.

warnings: fluff and banter, maybe typos nd stuff

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is short and bad, just a lil sumn for y'all since i've been gone for two whole months :(

You hated the feeling of seeming or even being remotely close to the brink of a failure.

Which, yes is something every human has to go through in life in order to get to the top, but it's hard to lose all the time. You'd like to think you were a really good person, a great one even. Always helping out your community, all that good people stuff, and you were really smart, so smart that you're almost top of all your classes.

Just almost, though.

The thing is, when you want to make it to the top and be the best, there's obviously always going to be some sort of obstacle. Your obstacle is, Peter Parker.

Just thinking of his name makes that big fat vein form on your forehead, because of course someone as socially awkward and conveniently attractive as him has to be your competition to prove your smartness.

Peter is sweet, that much you can admit, but not to you and only because you dislike him just as much as he dislikes you. He can pretend he doesn't but you know your irritation and insults toward him really sets him off, which albeit is sometimes hilarious, but the boy's presence is insufferable and no matter what anyone says you, you will never like him.

You might be overreacting, and to be fair it's a possibility that you are, but is it your fault that every time you two share a class he just has to rub it in your face that he can solve math problems faster than you? Or that he has an internship with THE Tony Stark? It's unfair and you can't help but feel a little jealous.

"I hate gym." Cindy grumbles and sits next to you on the bleachers, and you pay her complaints no mind as you study for an upcoming test.

"Y/N?" She waves a hand in your face and you have to psychically fight back an eye roll just to look at the girl.

Cindy Moon is one of your only friends (sadly) and she's so sweet and understanding toward you when you want to rant about how hard your life is or how unfair the justice system is, which is something you two have in common.

"What?"

"Are you listening?"

"No." You go back to studying.

Before you can reread the paragraph you were looking at, Cindy closes your book and you look over at the girl in disbelief and frustration.

"Why did you just do that?" You glare at her as she innocently shrugs.

"Talk to me!" She pouts, you look away with a huff.

Another thing is, she's annoyingly good at getting what she wants, especially from you.

"I'm trying to study Cin, maybe later," You reach for your book and she moves it out of your reach.

You show her a disapproving look.

"Why do you need to study? You're the smartest person ever."

You show her a fake smile and reach for the book again.

"Thanks but if I want to be top of my science class, I need to study, no give me the book." You start climbing onto her lap to get the book.

All Cindy does is laugh at the lengths you're going to, and you both pay no mind to the staring students.

"We look like lesbians." She jokes and your eyes go wide, quickly looking behind you two at the lingering gazes.

Your embarrassment is probably evident so you decide to get out of your friend's lap before your lazy excuse of a gym teacher and other students think the wrong thing.

"Just give me the book," You sit next to her again.

"Fine, you're no fun." Cindy gives you the book and you smile in accomplishment.

A few peaceful minute go by, and the gym class drags on for another fifty minutes at you study in somewhat silence as Cindy watches a small basketball game going on, on the other side of the gym.

"Uh oh, Peter missed the shot." She mumbles and you snap your head up, looking in the direction she stared.

If there was one thing you wanted to see, was Peter Parker fail.

Unfortunately all hopes and dreams crash and burn because when you look at the small basketball game, you see Peter shoot the ball into the basket and you roll your eyes at your dumb luck.

Another few minutes past and the basketball game was over, thankfully, now you can study in peace as your friend is now reading a book you had so kindly recommended (you didn't).

"Hey Cin, and goodie two shoes," An annoying voice distracts you from your studying and you try to ignore him and his voice as Cindy looks up with a smile and greets him back.

"Hey Peter, good game," She nods, and you continuing studying.

"Y'know there's no point in studying when I'm just gonna get the highest grade anyway." Peter brags and if you weren't so bothered by his presence your left eye wouldn't twitch at his words.

You rub your forehead and look up at him with a subtle glare, he shows you a smile as you finally give him what he wanted.

In all honesty, what you wanted was to not be bothered by him and, his unruly sweaty hair, flushed face and—stop.

"Who asked you?" You raise your eyebrow with an irritated tone, and you can feel Cindy grow uncomfortable.

Peter just smiles at your question.

"I'm just saying, like sure you're smart, but you're not exactly 'Peter' smart." He emphasized with a shrug.

"Is smart Peter in the room with us right now?" You tilt your head and hear Cindy snort at your expense.

His smile drops and you watch as jaw clenches at your words.

"Funny,"

"I try."

The silence takes over and you can't decide to either be thankful or what, and the tension is painfully palpable. The only thing you can do is stare at him as he stares at you. A staring contest you didn't want.

Cindy has to break the death glares you two were sending each other.

"Are you going to Flash's party?" She asks Peter and you want to hug her for saving the day.

Peter's gaze linger on you for awhile before looking at Cindy with a smile way different from the glare or whatever he was showing you a mere second ago.

"No, I wasn't invited." He shrugs.

"And a good thing too." You grumble, Cindy nudges you at that.

"Well I was thinking you come with me and Y/N, if you have nothing better to do." The girl offers with a grin.

You knew your kindness would come back and bite you, and she was proving to be no better as a "friend" by inviting your arch nemesis.

"Are you sure witches are even allowed to parties?" Peter looks at Cindy with fake concern and you go to stand up to attack but your friend grabs your hand.

And of course all Peter can do is smile at your reaction.

"Anyway, you should come, it'd be fun."

Peter considers this and nods at your friend with an awkward smile, and if you didn't despise everything he did, you'd think it was adorable.

"I'll think about it, thanks." He smiles before bidding his goodbyes to her, because god forbids he even thinks of saying another word to you.

Once Peter leaves you snatch your hand away and look at Cindy with a fuming expression.

"Why did you invite the real life walking devil to go to that party with us?" You shake your head in disbelief.

Cindy snickers and you're even more bewildered.

"Because, it's so obvious you two like each-other." She laughs.

You wanted to vomit at her words of disrespect. Like Peter? That's rich.

"Oh no, no I do not like Peter, trust me." You argue with a laugh.

Cindy nods, obviously unconvinced just as the bell rings for the next class.

"Sure and I don't have a crush on Keanu Reeves." She stands up and walks to the girl's locker room, you follow.

"But you do."

"Exactly." She shrugs and you roll your eyes.

"I do not like Peter, believe me." You try your hardest to embed that in your friend's head.

As you two walk into the locker room, she turns around.

"I guess we'll see at the party, yeah?" Cindy turns back around and puts in her combination to her locker before unlocking it.

You groan and do the same with yours.

You hated the fact that now there's was a possibility of you liking Peter, when of course you showed no signs of ever even considering him as more than a person you wanted to prove better than.

That's what it is, and that's what it'll be.

Peter is nothing more than a person you want to prove better than.

there's obv gonna be a part two

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff

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swbumblebee · 1 year

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They were having a lovely cosy night. Some nonsense holodrama was on, the heater was blasting and Jedi Master and Time Traveller Plo Koon was idly scrolling through a pad contemplating a second glass of wine. From his own comfortable spot on the sofa next to him, his partner in time travel and Master of the Order Mace Windu sighed and shifted his feet of the caff table next to Plo’s own, not a moment before an alarm on his chrono went off.

Plo grunted questioningly at him, feeling uncharacteristically lazy and sleepy. The other man stretched as he stood up.

“Meeting with Cin about The Tournament” he mumbled back, gathering himself.

“Oh!”

Plo loved The Tournament. He’d missed it so much during the war, that first time round. The annual Coruscant Temple Sabre Tournament was something so special. Seeing aged Masters grumbling good naturedly trying to catch their breath, energetic young Knights teasing each other and Padawans gleefully egging each other on brought a sense of camaraderie and family that was lost forever once the war began.

“I’ll come with you” he decided, ignoring Mace’s surprised expression as he sat up with renewed vigour.

---

Plo tuned out as Mace and Cin Drallig, Battle Master extraordinaire, gestured at charts and catering costs on one of the benches in the corner of the main dojo. Neither seemed to mind his presence, Cin seemed unsurprised when they came as a pair.

While he left the boring logistics to the two senior Jedi he scrolled through the contenders list, comforted by the familiar names and intrigued by some interesting matches. It would be a lively affair.

He frowned, noticing something as he got to the Knights section.

Kab…

Kedib…

Kirin…

Krag…

He frowned further, checking the Senior Padawan section just in case.

Nope, not what he was looking for.

“Has Knight Kenobi not signed up for the tournament?” he asked loudly, interrupting the other two and not caring one bit. He got a pulse of mild irritation from Mace but interestingly, Cin simply let out a breath.

It wasn’t compulsory for every Jedi to take part in the tournament but there was certainly an obligation, particularly for Knights, to act as an example for their peers. To learn from each other and to inspire the next generation. It was just the Done Thing.

The Battle Master for the temple looked uncharacteristically perturbed.

“Kenobi…” he sat back and folded his thick arms, pausing, and Plo saw Mace’s face sharpen in stern worry.

“He’s been here… a lot, in the past few months. At funny times.” Cin said, clearly picking his words carefully. “I’ve been helping him along, but most of the time I’m not here. I only see his name on the sign in sheet at all hours of the night.” He explained slowly.

Plo and Mace exchanged glances. That wasn’t good.

“Hmm. He didn’t sign up last year I assume, for obvious reasons” Mace asked with raised eyebrows.

Cin nodded.

“He’s changed his form since then, I’ve tried to ask him about it a couple of times but you know how he is.” He had a familiar look of exasperation on his face. Plo knew it well. When he didn’t want to, there wasn’t a force in the Galaxy that could make Obi-Wan Kenobi talk. Plo remembered it only got worse with age, to the infuriation of Sith across the galaxy that first time around.

Mace sighed and leaned back.

---

The Master of the Jedi Order cursed to himself under his breath and barely resisted the urge to grumble at nothing. He knew Obi-Wan somehow managed to function on dangerously little sleep (at all ages, apparently) but he himself had never managed to master the skill and his mood was as dark as the Courscant sky outside, at 3rd hour. Plo had offered to go, but Mace had a worrying suspicion it would end in a cuddle and a nap rather than what was necessary.

He was trying not to dwell on how suspicious he looked, loitering outside the main Dojo at this time of night, when his quarry came quietly and around the corner apparently deep in thought.

23-year-old Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi came to an abrupt and (rather comical) startled stop.

“Master!”

“Good evening, or should I say, good morning, Obi-Wan” Mace made no move to step away from the door to the dojo, but neither towards the young man in front of him.

“I…Hello there, Master. What…” the young man faltered, clearly still trying to find his footing. “What…are you doing here?” he asked cautiously.

Mace noted he definitely wasn’t at his best. Obviously not as well put together as he was in the daylight hours, there was none of the usual perceptive glint behind his eyes, his hair had obviously been pushed hurriedly into place and his robe was nowhere to be seen.

Mace shrugged.

“Shall we?” he gestured to the door behind him, entering the dojo.

Obi-Wan looked at the door dubiously before following.

“So.”

They stood in the vast hall, facing each other. Mace was very conscious they had both taken up sparring positions. So be it.

“So” he repeated calmly. “Do you want to tell me why you are practicing at this force-forsaken hour or shall I beat it out of you?” he asked politely with a smile, shifting his stance a little.

The young mans eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know what you mean Master, the Dojos are open all hours, surely encouraging practice at all hours” came the similarly polite answer.

Mace rolled his eyes.

“Fine.” He ignited his purple blade and assumed the opening stance of his favoured form, Vaapad.

“Come on then” he instructed the Knight. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened a little in surprise upon realising his mentor was serious, but then were filled with resolve as he too changed his stance.

And then immediately Mace Windu had the breath knocked out of his chest when, instead of the classic Ataru that he’d come to associate with the young Obi-Wan (indeed, the form he had become known for after using it to defeat Darth Maul) he was instead faced with the dramatic stance of Soresu.

He cursed himself, Cin had mentioned it but seeing it was something he had not been prepared for.

Lightsabre parallel to the floor and left arm extended with fingers pointing towards him, for a split second it wasn’t vulnerable, unsure Knight Kenobi Mace was seeing, it was the fearsome Master Kenobi. The Master of Soresu, and his comrade in arms. He’d seen that stance in the very worst of situations and every time it meant hope and determination.

“...Master?”

He was snapped back to the present by the slightly awkward prompt from the young man in front of him.

He grunted, trying to find his mental footing again.

“Not all of us are at our best at third hour young Obi-Wan” he grumbled, gratified when he got the ghost of a smile in response.

“Now then, let’s begin. And we will be speaking when I win” Mace warned, very clearly the Master of the Order.

Obi-Wan said nothing, his lips thinning as the match began.

---

The Master was gratified to see the young knight was panting a little as he yielded the match. Mace hadn’t won against Master Kenobi very often, in that first time around. It was good to know he still had some years left to enjoy it.

But not long, he noted. The young Knight was not there yet of course, but it he was good. Incredibly good for a Jedi of his level, using a difficult form. Mace was impressed.

“That was impressive. Very impressive Obi-Wan” he said, clapping him on the back as they both made to sit on the benches around the side of the dojo, Obi-Wan seemingly having lost the energy that fuelled his usual stubbornness, he allowed himself to be led by Mace.

“You’ve changed form.” the elder Jedi pointed out, cutting straight to the point. It was too early for beating around the munjabush.

“I have.” The young man beside him was looking at the floor as he answered. Mace felt the atmosphere in the room dip, the force tingling in his ears.

“Why?”

There was a pause. Obi-Wan kept looking at the floor.

Mace sighed.

“I hope you know, Obi-Wan, that you can tell me anything.” He said gently, projecting trust and safety at him through the force.

His young companion looked up at him with a watery smile. He took a breath.

“After Qui-Gon, after Naboo” he started slowly, seemingly choosing his words carefully “I kept trying…” he faltered, a faraway quality to his voice.

“Every time I started Ataru, I was back there behind the ray shields.” he said softly, looking down at the floor again. “After a bit of trial-and-error, it appeared to be a trigger for me, so I decided to change forms. Soresu seemed like a natural choice, I have a Padawan to defend now after all.”

Mace starred at him, finding himself once again at a loss. He knew Obi-Wan had changed forms at some point, but he’d never really given it much thought first. Lots of Knights experimented with new forms as soon as they were out of their Master’s shadow. But they generally didn’t do it incognito.

“Is that why you’ve been pushing yourself so hard? Coming here at all hours on top of everything else?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle.

His companion cleared his throat.

“It was difficult, at first. I didn’t…didn’t want anyone to know in case…” He trailed off.

Understanding dawned for Mace.

“In case you couldn’t do it.” He clarified, dismayed when he got a silent nod in return.

“Obi-Wan” Mace didn’t quite know what to say, working very hard to release his complicated emotions into the Force before the suddenly fragile man next to him picked up on them. Not least his slightly irrational anger.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t think we’d reject you or punish you because you couldn’t pick up a lightsabre.” He asked with a groan. The young man looked up at him in shock at the judgement in Mace’s tone. Giving him his answer.

“Er…”

Mace turned to him and shook his head in disbelief.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are a talented, intelligent person who is an asset to the Order in more ways than I can list at this time in the morning. You are worth far more than your warrior skill” he took a breath, taking in the bewildered and slightly alarmed face next to him. “And I am sorry that that hasn’t been made clear to you.” He finished with a gentler tone, shame swelling slightly within him.

He felt a slight tug on his bond with Plo, the other Master picking up on the maelstrom he was feeling. They’d have to meditate later.

Obi-Wan obviously didn’t know what to say, and Mace was satisfied to let the words sink in for a moment.

“Do you think, perhaps, that it might be prudent for you to speak to someone about all this?” he suggested lightly. “We have an entire wing of Mind healers for a reason, my friend.”

Obi-Wan chewed his bottom lip, looking achingly young.

“I don’t know” he said slowly. “Qui-Gon never really liked…” he trailed off again, looking at the floor.

Mace rolled his eyes.

“Yes well, Force love him he was a good friend but Qui-Gon was a complicated man and let’s be honest, could be a bit of an idiot at times” he said, making sure his fondness for his old friend was obvious, pleased when it brought another watery smile out of his young friend.

“Maybe.” He admitted.

Mace decided to take what he could get.

“Please think about it. If you like, Plo or I could go with you” he offered. This time he did get a full smile and a slight eye roll in response.

“I’m sure I can handle it Master, I’m perfectly capable-“

“I know I know!” Mace held up his hands in defence “Just the offer is there.”

He stood up.

“Now then, time for bed I think” he activated his Senior Master mode, suddenly all business. “Please stop practicing at stupid hours of the morning, you’re making Master Drallig nervous. Sign yourself up for some proper tutoring” he instructed.

“Yes Master” Obi-Wan stood with a bow of acquiescence before they moved together towards the doors.

“Oh and Obi-Wan” Mace caught him as they closed the doors and stood in the silent corridor. “Do think about signing up for the tournament. You have a lot to offer.” He suggested.

The other Jedi hesitated.

“I…I will Master” he promised with a dip of his head.

“That’s all I ask” Mace reassured.

After they separated with one final bow of goodbye, Mace leant against the cool wall in relief, letting his emotions wash over him and into the Force, with the Force equivalent of a grunt from Plo down their bond.

He’d never known about Obi-Wan’s seemingly classic case of PTSD. And the obvious fear of rejection made his unrelenting quest for perfection and independence, that first time around, make sense.

But not this time. Mace smiled. They had a long way to go, but acknowledgement and mind healers were good, and Mace and Plo would be there every step of the way. This time.

#Space Dads Go Time Travelling #Mace Windu #Plo Koon #Obi-Wan Kenobi #Knight Kenobi #Family #Fluff #careful #Mentions of #PTSD #woops sorry this one got a bit long!

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birdietrait · 3 months

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Birdie! Hey friend! SO! I saw an ask you got about your CAS pics and I was wondering: with your swre settings at 3000x3000 how are you able to move the little orb around with relight? Anytime I go big with swre I can't see the orb controls. So I adjust the orb in a smaller window and then cross my fingers and hope for the best when I go bigger. Am I missing something? My play the game in windowed fullscreen if that helps.

hi cin!! i'm not sure if it would work the same in windowed fullscreen since i do this in windowed mode but here's what i do :))

step 1: open swre as usual and click remove borders and fake fullscreen

step 2: go back to ts4 and open up the reshade settings, adjust the relight orbs

step 3: click the windows key to open srwe from the taskbar, set to 3000 x 3000 (or whatever your preferred settings are)

step 4: minimize srwe and take your screenshots

step 5: if you want a close-up or different angle, open srwe again, click taskbar mode, adjust what you need in ts4 and relight, then go back to step 1 :))

#birdie replies #ts4 tutorial #< ?#i really hope i explained it well !!!

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years

Text

❄️LEFT ON READ❄️

A/N: fanficmas has come to its end! i hope you uys enjoyed these little festive fics, thank you for reading and thank you to those who also participated in it!!

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

SUMMARY: Following a drunk night you realize you sent some voice messages to your childhood best friend about having feelings for him. Panic sets in when he leaves you on read with no reply.

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

“Oh my God, his car is on Anne’s driveway!”

You burst through the front door like the house is on fire, ripping your coat and scarf off of you while kicking your boots off. Your mom didn’t understand what you said, she just heard you act like there’s an emergency, so she runs out of the kitchen, her hands covered in flour, looking at you with wide eyes.

“What happened? Is the Christmas tree on fire?” she asks and you shake your head.

“Worse. Harry is home!” you groan before running upstairs, her laughter echoing behind you.

“I’m sure it will be alright, Honey!”

“Nothing will be alright mom!” you shout back before shutting the door of your childhood room behind you.

This is not how you imagined returning for the holidays, you ruined it all with one drunk night when you couldn’t control yourself and sent the absolute worst voice messages to your childhood best friend, Harry. The Harry Styles, the guy half the world is in love with.

And you’re part of that half, have been since you were about twelve.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

“Oh my God, I really shouldn’t drink another one,” you snort out a laugh, but take the tequila shot from Nara anyway.

“Come on, it’s our Friendmas, we all agreed to get smashed!” Cindy shrieks, clearly drunk, because her blonde hair has stray strands that escaped her always neat bun and she never allows her hair to be anything but perfect.

“Alright, alright, cheers!” you snort out a laugh as you clink your glasses together for the fifth time before chugging down the shots.

You can’t help but grimace as the liquid slips down your throat, burning your inside. Deep down you know you’ll regret all this alcohol in the morning when you’ll feel like dying, but tonight, you’re letting loose.

Your phone lights up on the table and you snatch it with a groan, trying to focus on the screen to see who just texted you.

HARRY: Alright, just text me when you get home so I know you didn’t die. Xx

You snort out a laugh, because you can actually hear him say it in your head.

“Oh, I’m guessing the rockstar has texted Y/N!” Nara laughs and you pull your shoulders up to your ears giggling.

“Stop!”

“When are you guys gonna have toe curling sex?” Cindy bluntly asks, grabbing her mojito from the table, trying to wrap her plump lips around the straw, but she misses several times before succeeding.

“Shut up, never!” you gasp, but warmth instantly crawls up your neck to your cheeks.

“Oh, come on!” Nara rolls her eyes. “You’re clearly in love with him and I’m sure he feels the same way. What’s stopping you?”

“It’s complicated, he doesn’t… He doesn’t love me that way,” you mumble, typing a reply to him that’s full of typos probably.

“You’re missing out, babe,” Cindy points at you, attempting to wink.

“You’ve definitely imagined what you’d say to him,” Nara grins at you. “Let us hear it!”

“No!” you protest.

“Yes! Let’s hear how you’d beg him to dick you down on the stage of Maddison Square Garden!” Cindy laughs like hyena and you gape at how unhinged she has become.

“Jesus,” you sigh, knowing they won’t leave you alone until you comply. “Okay, so I always imagined sending him voice messages, because he says he loves them, because he can listen to them anytime he wants.”

You look at your friends, pretending to hold your phone to your mouth, as if you were actually recording.

“Spicy,” Cindy giggles.

“What would you tell him?” Nara grins with glassy eyes.

“Something like… Hey, it’s Y/N.”

“Why would you say it’s you, he would literally be in his text messages with you,” Cindy cocks her head to the side.

“Shut up, Cindy!” Nara pokes her, making you laugh. “Go on!”

“Okay, so… There’s something I really want to tell you and I don’t think I can keep it a secret anymore. I’ve been madly in love with you since seventh grade, Harry. None of the guys I dated ever compared to you and I’m convinced I might die alone if we don’t get together.”

You let out a laugh, gesturing around with your phone in hand. You even almost drop it, Cindy shrieking and attempting to catch it, but you manage to keep it in your hand.

“Where’s the dirty part?” Nara asks.

“Yeah, you should tell him you want to suck his dick dry,” Cindy nods, taking another sip from her drink.

“I could never tell him about the things I’ve fantasized about in the past decade,” you laugh with your head falling back.

“But you can tell us!” Nara nods enthusiastically.

“No! I’m not… I want to keep that to myself, but let’s just say everything his fans thought of… I thought of those too.”

All three of you laugh before you venture to other topics and Harry gets forgotten. The night stretches long, it’s past three in the morning by the time you get back to your apartment. Even drunk, you remember Harry asked you to text him when you get home, so falling into bed you muster up some energy to open up his messages. Your fingers linger over the screen as you try to put together your thoughts, but all of them vanish when you see the last things you sent him.

Voice messages.

There are several of them after your last text to him. Blood rushes out of your head instantly as you sit up, suddenly wide awake. You tap on the first one and your voice flows out of your phone with the background noises of the bar.

“---and I don’t think I can keep it a secret anymore. I’ve been madly in love with you since seventh grade, Harry.”

“Oh no,” you gasp as you go to the next one.

“---convinced I might die alone if we don’t get together.”

Frantically you go over all of them, wishing the ground would open and it would swallow you forever.

“You should tell him you want to suck his dick dry.” Cindy’s voice is heard in the next one.

“---keep that to myself, but let’s just say everything his fans thought of… I thought of those too.”

The last message cuts off after your laughter. You’re staring at your phone in utter disbelief, part of you hoping the voice messages would just disappear from the thread and you’d realize you’re just too drunk and made up the whole thing.

But they remain there, and when your eyes wander lower you see the word that almost sends you into a coma.

Read 2:34 am

TODAY

Christmas was your favorite time, because both you and Harry returned to where you met when you were kids, but this year, your little trick ruined it all.

Harry hasn’t replied to your voice messages, not even to the text you sent him in the morning, trying your best to put out the fire you just lit.

Y/N: I can explain this, Harry. I got drunk, I didn’t know what I was talking, it was all just an accident! Can we pretend I didn’t send those messages? Please???

You guess his silence is a reply too, not the one you wanted though.

Now you’re locked up in your old room as you hear your mom greeting her friends for her usual Christmas party she holds every year. Normally you’d be down there, sipping on some wine, mingling, but this year, you might not even show your face.

Not when you know Harry could be already down there.

Maybe he is not coming. Maybe he was so traumatized by your voice messages that he will never ever want to see or talk to you. If that’s the case, you’ll probably die, because he is your best friend, but facing him right now also makes you want to vanish from this world.

You fucked yourself over. Big time.

“Y/N?” you hear a knock on the door from your mom as you’re anxiously pacing the floor. She opens the door and stands with her hands on her hips. “Stop acting like a baby and come down, will you?”

“Is he here?”

“No, Anne came alone,” she sighs.

At first you’re relieved. But then you realize that he might actually never want to talk to you again because of those stupid messages and that feels way worse.

Unwillingly, you join the party downstairs, but you try to avoid Anne. She is so close to Harry, there’s a chance he told her what happened and there’s no way you can look into her eyes after that.

It’s probably not the best idea, but you have some wine that makes you dizzy and you get into a spiral about Harry.

Why didn’t he reply to your messages? He could have at least reacted or told you it’s better if you never talk. You’ve known him for so long, it’s the least you deserve. Is he home alone now? He would rather stay back than to face you? Is this really the end of your friendship?

“Oh fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you decide it’s time to slow down on the alcohol, since it’s what got you in trouble in the first place, so put your glass into the dishwasher.

“Everything alright?”

Anne’s voice makes you jump and you’re met with her warm smile when you turn around.

“Yeah!” you squeak. “Everything is… perfect!”

She’s come to get a refill and you watch her as if she was a ticking bomb. But she is her usual self, there’s no sign of pity towards you, so there’s a chance she doesn’t know what happened between you and Harry.

“Where… Where’s Harry?” you ask, trying your best not to sound like an obsessed psycho.

“Oh, he had a meeting or whatever. He said he’ll come right over when he’s done, but maybe he got stuck in front of his laptop,” she chuckles. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon, don’t worry,” she pats your hand before walking out of the kitchen.

From that moment, your stomach drops every time you hear the front door opening, thinking it’s Harry, but as two hours pass by you start to think that he won’t come. You keep checking your phone, hoping for a message, but only seeing your pathetic last text every time you open the thread is like a slap across your face.

You really messed up because you were drunk and you outed yourself in such a ridiculous way. Now your best friend doesn’t even want to see you.

The party comes to its end, the house empties out and you get into a lethargic mood as you help your mom clean up.

“Why don’t you just go over and talk to him, hm?” she asks seeing your bitter face.

“It’s pretty obvious he doesn’t want to talk,” is all you say.

You lock yourself up in your room for the rest of the night, acting like a heartbroken teenager. You can’t believe this is how you lose Harry, your best friend, the boy you grew up with and the only man you ever truly loved.

It’s sometime past ten when you hear knocking. On your window.

“What the—“

As you sit up and walk over to the window you almost get a heart attack when you see Harry squatting in front of your window that’s right above the garage. Growing up it gave you the perfect opportunity to sneak out, because you could easily climb out without your mom noticing and Harry also used it as his entrance quite a few times. But now as you see the grown version of him there, your mind goes blank as you open the window.

“What… Harry, what are you doing?” you ask as he gestures at you to step back so he can climb in.

“God, this went easier when I was fifteen,” he chuckles when he is finally standing in your room.

“Harry, would you mind explaining why you didn’t use the front door?” you ask, folding your arms over your chest.

“Because your mum is probably asleep and I didn’t want to wake her.”

“Why didn’t you come in the morning then?”

“Because I wanted to talk,” he replies with a smug grin.

It’s odd to see grown Harry in your old room, you have tons of memories with him from when you were kids, but he is a man now, a tall, ridiculously good-looking man in your room that still has your old posters on the yellow walls.

“Talk?” you squeak, anxiety creeping up its way on your spine again.

“Mhm, about your messages. Remember them?” he asks and while you’re debating whether you should jump out the window or play dead, he is smirking at you as if it was all just a joke to him.

“I do,” you nod shortly.

“Anything to add to them?”

“Nope,” you say, but then change your mind. “Actually, I do have something to add.”

“Okay, go on, I’m listening,” he nods, still grinning as he leans against your dresser.

“Leaving me on read was rude. I might have sent you some unhinged, unexpected messages, but I apologized in the morning and you left me on read! And then you didn’t show up at the party, you made me think you never want to talk to me again. That was very rude.”

He stares back at you, his head tilted to the side and you feel the urge to hit him if he doesn’t wipe that smirk off of his face.

“I know. And I’m sorry for that,” he finally says. “But I felt like it’s not a conversation I want to have over text messages.

“Um, okay…”

Pushing himself away from the dresser he starts to approach you slowly while you’re backing at the same time, but the room is not too spacious, your back quickly hits the wall.

“The messages were unexpected,” he points out the obvious. “I have to say, when I listened to them in the middle of the night, I didn’t know what to think.”

“It was an accident, we got drunk and we were just messing around.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “So then… did you mean it?”

“What?”

“The things you said. That you’re madly in love with me and that you might end up dying alone if we don’t get together.”

Hearing the words from his mouth makes your head spin as you stare back at him on the verge of the biggest turning point of your friendship. For a moment you hesitate, consider saying it was just a joke, but you’re also too tired to keep it a secret any longer.

“Yes,” you finally say, your heart drumming in your ears.

He stares at you for what feels like forever, the corners of his mouth curling up and you see a little nod from him before he backs away from you so he’s not cornering you anymore.

“Good,” he then says and you wait for more, because that one word can’t be his reaction alone, he has to have more to say. But he remains silent, the smirk still plastered across his face and you finally lose your patience with him.

“Good? That’s really all you have to say? You know what? You’re an asshole! I might have sent you the most awkward and unhinged messages, but you left me on fuckin read and now all you say is good, but nothing is good! If this is just a joke to you, then maybe we—“

The words die on your tongue when his lips smash against yours, his hands locking your face in his palms as he kisses all your worries, fears and anxiety away. He pushes you against the wall again, his hips pressing against yours and you can’t hold a moan back when his tongue meets yours. Your head bumps against the light switch over and over again and it takes some time to realize that you keep turning the lights on and off in the room.

You grin against his lips and he keeps kissing them as you let out a laugh, your hands holding onto his slim waist.

“If you think…” he keeps kissing you, “That I’m done scolding you…” more kisses, “For leaving me on read… you’re wrong.”

“Scold me, punish me,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Do whatever you want.”

“Naughty,” you giggle.

He kisses you some more before pulls back, a more serious look on his face.

“I’m sorry for leaving you on read, but I really wanted to see your pretty face when I tell you that I’ve been madly in love with you too.”

Your heart is about to burst out of your chest at his words, the pain you felt in the past week already long forgotten when you see how he is looking at you.

“You’re not just pulling my leg? It’s not just a Christmas prank, right?”

“No,” he chuckles. “I just can’t believe this is how it happened.”

“I’m never drinking again,” you groan, but he just kisses your cheek.

“It’s fine, you can always send me dirty voice messages,” he smirks playfully.

“You’ll never let me live it down, right?” you sigh and he shakes his head grinning.

“Nope.”

“Alright, then I will tease you about leaving me on read.”

“Tease me all you want, as long as I get to kiss you afterwards,” he mumbles as he leans closer, brushing his lips against yours teasingly before finally kissing you.

ONE YEAR LATER

There is not one finger Harry has free as he pushes his way into his home, dozens of shopping bags hanging from him everywhere. With a groan he kicks the front door closed behind him and drops everything to the floor, finally feeling his fingers again.

“Babe?” he calls you, a bit frustrated that you didn’t come out to the car to help him carry the bags in and he is way too proud to make two rounds, so he had to do it all at once, resulting in him becoming a Christmas tree himself.

He walks further into the home he’s been sharing with you this past six months, looking for your pretty face to ask what was so important that you couldn’t help him.

To be exact, you left him on read when he texted you that he’s arrived.

“Y/N?” he calls for you again and he finally hears your footsteps approaching from the bedroom. Moments later you appear in your silky robe, an oblivious smile on your face.

“Hey babe!” you greet him and he forces himself to ignore how deliciously cozy you look with your freshly washed hair, makeupless face and he can smell your lotion even from across the room.

“Why didn’t you come out to help me with the bags?” he huffs, pouting his lip as you approach him gracefully. “I texted you and you saw it!”

“Oh,” you breathe out furrowing your eyebrows. “You mean… I left you on read when I should have definitely replied? Hm, that sounds like something that happened before to us.” You tap on your chin, pretending to be thinking and he finally realizes what it’s about.

“Babe…” he groans, but a chuckle slips from his lips. “Am I still not forgiven for that?”

“Never,” you grin at him devilishly as you step closer, placing your hands to the base of his neck.

“This was rude, I had to carry all the stuff on my own!” he pouts his lips at you like a little kid, his hands finding your waist.

“Aw, I’m sorry. I was busy, actually, so I couldn’t help.”

“What was so important?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

You step back, his hands slipping off your hips and you gift him with an angelic smile as you untie your robe and let it slide off your shoulders, revealing the sparkly red lingerie set you’re wearing underneath. Harry’s mouth hangs open instantly, his eyes roaming your body relentlessly.

“Is this a good enough excuse?” you ask, batting your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you’re forgiven!” he nods eagerly as he steps closer just to pick you up bridal style and he carries you back to the bedroom as you laugh, pressing kisses to his jawline, the grocery bags long forgotten in the hallway.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#fanficmas #fanficmas 2022 #fanficmas2022 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2022 #harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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