#This is draft two of the one i posted a while ago lol
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sparrowgrace · 5 months ago
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Meet Princess Eadahmisa
Eadahmisa had pitied hares, once.
Perhaps she had unthinkingly put herself in the hare’s position; imagined running, running, endless terrified running, before finally the wolves cornered her, and she became crunching bones and gushing blood and rare, rare sustenance. She had, perhaps, never imagined herself as the hungry wolf.
She no longer thought of the hare. A few days ago, her quarry had realized she was hunting him and picked up his pace, not stopping to sleep or eat. But she knew, as they both knew, that he could not keep that up for long.
The desert around her glittered gold. The whole world glittered gold, sunlight slanting into crystalline sand, shimmering in the relentless heat. She kept a steady pace, following the tracks still scrawled in the sand, seeing the patterns of her prey’s journey in the marks he’d left behind. Here, he’d stopped and turned his mount to examine his wake, no doubt hoping to gauge whether she’d closed any distance between them, or perhaps had she given up. Here, and she couldn’t say exactly why, he had broken into a gallop for several paces before slowing once more. Here, he paused to rest or think a moment, before veering slightly east.
She swung to follow, soon reaching his destination.
A wall of green, startling after the monotonous orange plainness, circled the dark oasis, the silence of the desert replaced with a buzzing chorus of insects and birds and frogs, camels fenced into an area by the water and lowing in the heat. Between the fruit and palm trees, the village had spread across the water, away from the openness of the desert, on wooden paths and trading caravans suspended on stilts.
Eadah guided her horse to the water and dismounted, absently running her hand over the heat of its neck, as she squinted at the village.
Villagers traversed the lake on small reed boats or across rickety step-bridges. They ate under the shade of awnings and curtains, sat on piers with their feet in the water, haggled with stall-owners squat over food or supplies or shining trinkets. A group of youngsters splashed naked in the water, their laughter echoing over the disgruntled grumbling of the nearby flamingos.
No one looked towards Eadah where she stood.
She’d seen small pieces of civilization like this on her hunt, though she’d never approached them, limiting her interactions to the lone nomads she passed, when she was forced to trade. She had assumed these people would share traits with the desert they inhabited: harsh, unforgiving, dangerous. She’d been told they would.
She eventually bade herself to ignore their easy, good-natured freedom. Her prey waited, undoubtedly, within the temple in the centre of the lake, its reflection on the water making it a hovering, symmetrical entity, gold and squared.
She left her horse and carefully manoeuvred the creaking, swaying village until she reached the temple path, level enough to the water that each wave lapped over the golden smoothness, splashing lightly under the tap of her boots. She moved from harsh sunlight into the soft gold of reflections, sunlight off the water lapping gently on the walls of the small entryway.
She unhooked her staff from her shoulder and left it with the rest of the assorted weapons, before moving through the archway deeper into the temple.
It was dimmer inside, braziers and torches flickering against the walls. The space seemed, somehow, bigger than logic should allow. She descended the steps, soft gold arching high overhead, carpets decorating the floor and children decorating the carpets. They huddled in clusters, voices thrumming gently.
Priests roved the area between them, unspeaking but singing softly, wordlessly. Tapestries and murals of rough, broken tile decorated the walls in expanse, coloured stone set into the softness of the gold. On the steps nearby, a crowd of children gathered in a circle around a singular nomad, perched on the top step and leaning low to tell stories to the gathered listeners.
As she moved away, she heard a small voice; “Why didn’t he fight her?”
And the answer of the storyteller: “Just as each of us are jagged pieces broken off God, so too is the Wolf.” Eadah stalled. “God gave us anger so that we may learn forgiveness, and hatred so that we may learn love, and God granted us the Blessed Wolf so that she may be cut open to reveal the Saint within. As we love God, we must love the Wolf, and when she bids us die we must bare our necks and know that our Saint will be freed.”
“Wasn’t he afraid?”
“Fear is how we love, little thing.”
Her prey waited in the centre of the temple, a circular room open to the sky above, sunlight spilling down and landing upon him in a spray of gold.
“You can’t harm me here,” he called. “Laws older than you or I or either of our tribes dictate that you cannot raise a weapon to me here. So tell me why you have been hunting me.”
Eadah considered him and finally approached. As she entered the circle of light, she pulled her scarf away from her hair and eyes. His face opened in recognition.
“You know my face?” Her voice startled her, rough and crackled with disuse, and unfamiliar after her weeks of silence.
In response, he dropped to his knees. He bowed his head, and she saw his jaw work for a moment, before he said carefully, “Have mercy.”
“Do you want to live?”
He nodded.
“Then I cannot have mercy.”
His name was Ivi, she remembered. Ivi, Ivi, Ivi. She reached out and took his chin, tilting his head back, and was disconcerted by how unfamiliar she’d become with the feeling of warm skin against hers. His eyes rose to her, and then to the sky beyond. Still holding his chin, she pulled the vial from her pocket. His mouth started shaping a rapid prayer.
She flicked the lid of the small glass vial, the liquid inside catching the sunlight. In her hand, Ivi uttered a harsh curse, but he didn’t fight her, even as she leaned over him and carefully tilted the vial, a drop of the liquid splashing into one eye and then the other. He blinked, reeling away and dropping with a wordless cry, and then the screaming began.
After a moment, she gave him her waterskin and let him pour it over his face, blinking quickly. When he quietened, she asked, “Do you know why I did this?”
He nodded, holding the waterskin to his chest.
“All laws began younger than you or I,” she said. “I answer only to the Council.” She bid no farewell when she left, and this time she was noticed. This time, in the wake of Ivi’s echoing scream, silence spread through the temple and watched her as she passed. She ignored them. She was, finally, going home.
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stick-by-me · 1 year ago
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Ka-ching!
New follower sticker for: @phenom272!
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cheeseceli · 5 months ago
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Skz meeting a pretty fan
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Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, just a tiny little bit of angst, headcanons
Description: their reaction to meeting a pretty fan during a fan meeting
Warnings: kind of love at first sight trope, delusional, some of them are dramatic, they are all idols, not proofread
A/n: the way it's been over a year that this has been in my drafts | daily click
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Bang Chan
He was kinda of tired already so he was zoning out
When he sees you he is like "...oh"
He is so invested in your conversation
If you comment about the production behind the music he will be so happy
Genuinely loves when someone acknowledges his work so his eyes will shine and he will smile so hard while explaining everything to you
He is upset when you need to move on to the next member
Sees you laughing with the other members and he's like 🤨
Wonders what they did that managed to make you laugh that much
Lee Know
He would stare at you
You know when his mouth is open and you can see his eyes shining?
Yeah, that's him right now
You say hello and he would give you his nervous laugh before looking at you again with those stary eyes
I swear he is such a softie
Would listen to every single word that you say, you can tell he is paying so much attention
Autographs something for you and makes a funny drawing as well hoping you'd laugh
Side eyes the staff when they say the time is up
Even when you move to the next member and other fan is talking to him, he would still look at your direction sometimes and get so flustered if you catch him looking at you
Changbin
Starts small talk right away
Will 100% compliment you
You ask him an autograph and he wonders how bad would it be if he gave you his number instead
Like he knows he cannot do that
But maybe if he was sneaky enough...
Doesn't do it by the end but he low-key regrets it for the rest of his life
He will wake up one day after five years and be like "damn I should've given them my number"
And he will make that everyone's problem
The boys can't stand it anymore because they've heard enough about you by now 😭
Convinces himself that he will see you again one day
Hyunjin
He sees you before you see him, so he is panicking
Is looking at the line all the time wondering if you will want to talk to him
Asks han if his hair looks good before it's your turn to talk to him
No but fr, he can't take his eyes off you
When you start talking he is like 😯
You look and sound like an angel, he must be in heaven
Even after the fan meeting he can't stop thinking about you
If he's feeling bold enough, he will definitely flirt with you
Low-key forgot he was an idol and was ready to risk it all for you
Han
Might believe in love at first sight after your meeting
Compliment him once and he will get so shy
Like sir, weren't you the one flirting like two seconds ago🤨
Would feel so betrayed if he isn't your bias LMAO
He has like a minute and a half to convince you he's the best stray kids member and he WILL try that
And he hopes that someone will record his flirty antics and post it on tiktok just so he can find your socials
He will make all the boys stalk the internet to try to find you
"but you can't contact them even if you find their account, so what's the point?" idk bro but he wants to see you again somehow
Felix
SUCH A FLIRT
The moment he looks at you he is already trying to win your heart
Kinda forgot he was an idol pt.2
Except he didn't forget
He just doesn't care
He wants to flirt with you and that's precisely what he will do
Will even flirt through his autograph if he can
Uses any kind of excuse to make physical contact with you ✨
And side eyes the staff when they tell him it's time to move on
Like no it's not??
Seungmin
Actually pretty good at hiding his new crush??
The most normal one out here surprisingly lol
He will be able to cover it up as just "good mood" but let's be for real
It's because of you
Anyways
Will smile so much
If you compliment his smile (please do!) he will get shy but so so happy
Also steals glances when you go to the next member
He'll be talking to the next fan but ends up laughing because of something he heard you say to another one of the boys
The fan is like ?? but Seungmin is able to play it off
I.N
So dedicated to give you a good impression
If you tell him your favourite skz song is one of his solos (or that your favourite has that title because of his vocals) this man is in heaven
Forgot he was an idol pt.3 except he didn't forget
He just lowkey very lowkey didn't want to be an idol in that exact moment
Had it been on any normal occasion he would probably try to charm you over
But this was his job
He couldn't possibly get delulu over a fan 😭 although he was already midway to that
Ends up covering a song you said you thought would fit his voice
Sees the comments of the cover wondering each one of those were yours
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: unrequited love
Reminder that this is all fiction, this does not represent the members in real life!
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs
Dividers by @thecutestgrotto | Images 1, 2 and 3
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azulpitlane · 2 months ago
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i love you, im sorry l fc43
summary: in which youre tired of your brother charles scaring off your dates, so you break his one rule—don’t date f1 drivers. you choose franco as revenge, but he doesn’t realize he’s being used and you don’t expect to fall for him.
tags: leclerc!reader, a bit of angst, DRAMA💜
notes: im still using my phone to post cause I haven't replaced my laptop lol so enjoy this draft. it was made during franco's rookie season so keep that in mind‼️
masterlist 1k celebration
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, francolapinto and 15,493 others
yourusername night out
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user picnic date??🤨
user is she soft launching omg
charles_leclerc why have you turned off your location?
user she just posted 2 seconds ago, how fast do you type😭
user baby leclerc is on a date aww
arthur_leclerc charles says to answer to ur phone asap
yourusername well tell charles he is one call away from getting blocked
user charles is an annoying older brother confirmed✅
alexandrasaintmleux 😍 liked by yourusername
user her brothers freaking out in the comments is killing me
user free y/n from charles
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f1gossip
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liked by arthur_leclerc and 27,290 others
f1gossip Y/n Leclerc on Lily Muni's instagram stories today. Many believe she's Franco's guest for the Abu Dhabi GP.
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user SHES AT WILLIAMS GARAGE??
user seeing her outside of ferrari isnt right...
user IS CHARLES OKAY???
user and she was pictured hugging franco earlier today oop-
user and she finally followed him back on ig 👀
user arthur liked this so hes probably showing charles right now😭
user poor y/n is probably gonna have her phone blowing up rn
user knowing francos been lurking in her likes before he even became an f1 driver is so funny
user was not expecting this but im obsessed
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yourusername 📍abu dhabi
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 45,839 others
yourusername another gp, but different view this time
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user SHES SOFT LAUNCHING FR THIS TIME
user so who gave u those flowers🤔
francolapinto better* view this time
arthur_leclerc do you have a death wish?
charles_leclerc you are lucky the season is over.
yourusername CHILL OUT???
francolapinto oh...
alexandrasaintmleux i need a debrief
yourusername yes yes😋 lets meet up at our usual place for drinks?
alexandrasaintmleux yes! ill text u
charles_leclerc IM COMING WITH
yourusername pls do not bring ur bf with
charles_leclerc I AM ALSO UR BROTHER! AND UNBLOCK MY PHONE NUMBER
user charles crashing out while franco is probably hiding in some corner rn
charles_leclerc i am calling maman and demanding a family meeting. you better show up, im not playing games anymore!
yourusername "no more mr nice guy" ahh reaction
arthur_leclerc lmfao
yourusername what are you laughing at?
arthur_leclerc nothing damn!
carlossainz55 hey so your brother is on the verge of a heart attack
yourusername is that ugly vein on his forehead protruding rn
carlossainz55 yeah actually wow! ive never noticed that
charles_leclerc ?!?!
yourusername 📍buenos aires
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 34,324 others
yourusername my tour guide around argentina is pretty cute
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user oh mygosh i was not expecting the hard launch so soon
user just gonna patiently wait for charles comments now
user the hottest couple ever omfg
leclerc_pascale hope youre having fun ma chérie❤️ be safe!
yourusername i am maman❤️ ill see you soon
charles_leclerc MAMAN?!?!
charles_leclerc this is just unnatural.
yourusername there's something seriously wrong with you but we gon get you professional help i promise <3
landonorris remember when i looked at you for 0.3 seconds and charles barked at me
charles_leclerc you were ogling. not staring.
alexandrasaintmleux you two make an ugly pairing.
yourusername CHARLES GIVE ALEX HER PHONE BACK?!
alexandrasaintmleux no.
francolapinto your natural hair😍😍
yourusername 🩷
user wait this was cute-
charles_leclerc barf.
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yourusername posted a close friends story
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alexandrasaintmleux if this is franco, i’m gonna lose it.
yourusername um… so it’s franco.
alexandrasaintmleux YOU WERE JUST TOGETHER THOUGH??? IN ARGENTINA??
yourusername yeah, so… i kinda joked that he should come to monaco if he was serious about asking me out.
yourusername and he actually did😀😀
alexandrasaintmleux y/n!!! i thought this was one of your schemes to mess with charles?? this is starting to sound serious?
yourusername I KNOW AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
yourusername i thought he was just some fuckboy who wanted to sleep with me since he’s literally been flirting with me since day one, but now he’s saying he actually wants something serious.
alexandrasaintmleux oh my god. im actually speechless right now.
alexandrasaintmleux does he know the real reason you agreed to a date in the first place…
yourusername … no.
yourusername but in my defense, i didn’t think he’d take it seriously!! i thought he was just messing with me like always, so i went along with it to annoy charles.
yourusername and now he’s out here being all sweet and genuine and saying he actually wants to be with me and i think i might be in trouble.
alexandrasaintmleux 🤨🤨you’ve accidentally fallen for him, haven’t you?
yourusername …no comment
alexandrasaintmleux oh god, I'm nervous on how this is gonna end
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yourusername
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liked by francolapinto, leclerc_pascale and 49,352 others
yourusername maman and i got a new chef and he was 1/10 would not recommend
tagged leclerc_pascale, francolapinto
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user so they're actually the only couple ever!
user maman leclerc approves aww
arthur_leclerc wow even I feel betrayed, am i being replaced?
user the leclerc men are so dramatic i'm crying
user wait I CAN CALL HER MY FAVORITE WAG NOW😜
lorenzotl beautiful ladies! so sad i couldn't make it
charles_leclerc excuse me?!?? am i not apart of the family anymore where I don't get invites😒
arthur_leclerc i didn't get one either...this hurts
charles_leclerc i've honestly run out of things to say
yourusername good cause he's coming to maman's birthday party
charles_leclerc WHAT
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yourusername posted stories
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curlyfriesgalore · 4 months ago
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"let it all out, baby."
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you've been dating daisuke for a while, already growing accustomed to his body and behavior, but something was off. nothing break-up-worthy, far from it, but you're a little concerned with how quiet he's been in bed.
so one "night," when swansea is too drunk out of his mind, anya is busy caring for curly, and jimmy is doing fuck all, you and daisuke spend some quality time in your room, which miraculously survives the foam.
one thing led to another, and now you're giving him head. however, as much as you want to get lost in your lust, you can't help but focus on his face—not out of your usual affection, but to analyze him.
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★ a smut-shot broken down into bullets with dialogue sectioned off into chat-format segments. [2,697 words]
☆ gen tags: post-crash. gn! reader is anya's intern, but your job isn't mentioned in the fic (it's just for lore's sake). daisuke is insecure in his masculinity (some angst). set in our year all because i reference one meme lol.
★ nsfw tags MDNI: dom reader. sub daisuke. fellatio and a handjob. neck biting and nipple sucking. so much whimpering!!!
[ahh, posting again because i found a fic i made for another character two years ago, so i decided to rework it! i was actually really glad to find this 'cause i've been wanting to write daisuke smut, but currently my nsfw drafts are all curly. art by washitquickly on twt —iris🌠]
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daisuke squirms as you lap your tongue around the head of his velvety dick, your spit blending with his sweet and sour slick. he digs his gapped teeth deep into his chapped lip. his mouth is in a tight crease, eyes squished shut with brows deep in concentration, wrinkling his lightly pimpled forehead.
he looks so out of breath, yet zilch emerges from that man's mouth. you wonder if your skills have worsened since the crash. maybe it was stress? but no, you knew that couldn't've been the case. your licks have always made him involuntarily writhe in pleasure, and your breath alone was enough to make precum shoot out of his soft slit.
speaking of which, you did exactly that, and a high-pitched moan ensues, finally.
you groan along with him, feeling his clear fluid slide down your throat. when your voice vibrates its low hum, shivers trickle down daisuke's aching cock. it's enough for him to jolt, flutter his eyes open, and mewl out a squeaky whimper.
you look up in awe, expecting to see your loverboy in pure ecstasy, but your heart drops. all you see is his hand clamped over his mouth, eyes wide in horror: the farthest thing from rapture.
gently, you remove yourself, the sensation of smooth skin lingering in your mouth as a trail of saliva connects your lip to his tip. with your hands still on his thighs, you felt him tremble under your palms.
daisuke pulls his legs towards his chest, encasing them within his arms as he buries half his face into his knees. his brows dent into his temple. he mumbles what sounds like an apology and wipes his face against his hinge joints. worry washes away your arousal in an instant.
carefully, you unfold his arms, spreading his legs to reveal the gorgeous mess you so deeply love. you crawl on top of him, resting your stomach on his, feeling his liquid lather onto your abdomen as you softly cradle his chin, bringing his face to yours.
as you thumb away the tiny tears dripping down his acne-scarred cheeks, he carefully brings his gaze to you, revealing the sea of tears swimming in his dark eyes. daisuke looks like a sad puppy, hurt and desperate for his partner's forgiveness, yet you are unsure as to why he's reacting this way.
he tries to gulp down the cries congested in his throat, attempting to force an explanation, but his reasons refuse to be revealed. for a man who spoke so many words, he felt too embarrassed to say any.
so, rather than letting him hurt himself any further, you envelop his warm body in your arms. daisuke silently melts as you comb your fingers through his sweaty hair, caressing his scalp as you try to piece things together. you think back to all the times you guys have had sex.
time and time again, you remember how quietly he'd finish. no matter how intensely his body shook from your touch, nothing but a small sigh would leave his panting chest. daisuke could be a puddle of sweat, drool coating his chin, eyes rolled all the way back as he failed to wait for your cue to let him cum all over your stomach—and yet, the only thing missing were the sounds of his moans.
you didn't question it at first, assuming he was, ironically enough, a quiet guy in bed, but things weren't adding up.
whenever you sneak attack his sides, tickling the air out of him, daisuke would shriek as if he'd witnessed the murder of his favorite pokémon. his face contorts into the physical embodiment of the 'ash baby.'
then there was another time, a month before the crash, when it was jimmy's turn for movie night. the co-pilot pulled up with his favorite horror film, intending to creep the skin off of everyone, and it nearly did for daisuke. he screeched so hard, practically ripping your eardrums, and lunged himself onto you, toppling the others over like dominoes on the couch.
(you recall a very tired captain curly lecturing a sheepish daisuke, telling him to be more careful with his surroundings, as anya aided swansea's sore back while jimmy snickered to himself next to you).
countless times proved how reactive he was, besides the obvious fact that this man does not have an off button. so, for him to be completely silent during sex didn't make any sense.
well, he wasn't completely. you've heard his soft moans and hushed whimpers escape from daisuke, unbeknownst to him, but you knew he could be much louder than that.
like, hello? he's the daisuke juarez, the guy (in)famously known for talking on and on for days without fail; surely, he could groan the life out of his lungs.
because, clearly, he wants to.
he needs to.
but you didn't know why he was so adamant about being super quiet. you wanted an answer so you wouldn't have to constantly try to get a read on his suppressions. and, by the looks of it, you're about to get one.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
you cup his face and caress his warm jaw. daisuke delicately places his hand on top of yours and strokes it back, rolling his thumb against your knuckles.
"can we talk now?" your question drifts into the soft rumbles of the ship.
daisuke carefully nods, one last garbled sob croaking out his throat before he responds, "y-yeah..."
"tell me. what's wrong, baby?" you ask softly as your hand dances around his face, your fingers tracing his features, wet from tears.
"um, do i..." daisuke pauses, briefly breathing in some much-needed air, "do i sound weird when i—y'know—uh, moan...?" he leans his cheek into your palm, and you feel the bumpy indentations in his skin flush into yours. his sights are set on everything but you.
your brows knit, but clarity relaxes the knot in your shoulders. "d'aww, baby..." you pout. "is that what this is?" daisuke, slowly attempting to match your eyes, purses his lips with another nod.
shaking your head, you bring his chin closer to yours, "no, no... not at all, dai." you press your lips into his pursed ones, tenderly transferring your love to him and relieving his tight kiss into its original plumpness. you pull away, resting your forehead against his, "i've always found them very cute..."
"if anything," you chuckle, "i wish you moaned more." finally, he looks at you, and you're met with wide eyes and lifted brows, "really?"
now it's your turn to quirk your brow. "of course, really! what makes you think i'd feel otherwise?" daisuke laughs at that and eats his lips, looking up at the metal ceiling as he sifts through his memory box.
"well- i don't know, i mean, back on earth," you catch a brief dullness in his gaze, "i once heard the girls in my class talk about how weird some guys sound when they moan, and like," daisuke drums his fingers on your forearm, "when i asked, they'd say any dude who sounded too much like them?" when he looks at you, he falters, "ach- how do i say it?"
your eyes narrow, struggling to understand that train of thought. daisuke frowned, not at you but at the following words, "it was something like 'oh! men who whimper are soOo icky to me' and 'dudes should sound deep, not like...'" daisuke winces, heaving a frustrated sigh as he continues to mimic those girls. "'...whatever weak subby boy bullshit that's been circulating online—' i know, it's stupid." he immediately stops when he sees your grimace.
you blink your eyes shut, shaking your head and sighing when you peel them open. "so," your hand wipes over your mouth. "you ended up adopting that?" you ask, tucking your thumb under your chin as your index rests on your bottom lip, elbow propped up on one knee.
"i mean, sort of?" daisuke moves his hands to rub circles on your bare sides, "when i realized that i moan like," daisuke air quotes, "a 'weak subby boy,' i got really embarrassed and well- forced myself to sound more like a man, i guess..." the shame in his face, apparent.
you hum, taking in the information as he continues to explain his insecurities. daisuke tells you all the times he's been egged on by his guy friends for how he sounds when he'd whine after getting hit by a baseball ball (when that shit HURTS for anybody, daisuke emphasizes) or how often his friend group would point out his squeals, joking about how he'd never get laid with a voice like that. the thing is, he consciously understands that his classmates are biased individuals, so daisuke knows that there's no real point for him to act all secretive with his sounds. but he can't help it. he worries that letting himself just... be himself, in this context specifically, might make you find him less attractive.
"hUH?!" you exclaim, making daisuke jump. you're so baffled that you grab his face and squish his cheeks with all the affection your squeeze can imbue. he looks at you, doe-eyed with lips puffed out like a fish. "i—first of all, what an absolutely shitty thing to say to your friend, let alone do it daily. and second of all, not every man moans the same. just 'cause yours is a little higher doesn't make you any less of one..." he attempts to defend them, wanting to say that they weren't that bad, but you hush him, reading through his lie before he could assess it himself. then, when you rationalize his insecurity, he tightens his lip, taking in your opinion as you continued to speak against the toxicity of his friends. noticing he's gone quiet, you rub his cheek, changing your tone into something much softer. "daisuke."
"yesh...?"
as your serious stare delves deep into his soul, you reassure him, "there is no one—and i mean, no one—in this universe that i love more than you."
"oomph, i shink your beftfriends whould be mhad if they hurd thath." daisuke jokes, and you roll your eyes, shushing him as you stifle your laugh, "hey, i'm being serious here...!" to which daisuke chuckles and nods for you to continue, mouthing an 'i love you, too.'
you sigh, "your whimpers... are the cutest, most adorable noises i'll ever hear in my life, and i don't want you to shut them up, ever. i mean it."
"mph- reallhy?" the innocence in his voice made you squish the sides of his face harder as you hummed in agreement, "really."
"i want to hear them," you take a moment to sit up, straddling his thighs as you wrap your fingers around his dick, it instantly springs. "over... and over... and over again." with every pause, you stroke him. your palm tugs at his cock from the hairs on his abdomen to his soaked tip. daisuke chokes out a gasp, his legs squirming as he gulps, "a-ah, fuck... baby." his body trembles, randomly jerking with every drag of his thick cock.
"nothing will ever change the way i see you," you press your lips onto his jaw, feeling the tiniest stubble. "how sweet you are, how handsome you look, or how good you sound to me." you trail kisses down his neck, and latch onto the edge of his adam's apple, nibbling a whimper out of him.
"if anything, your moans make me love you even more than i already do." as you peck along his chest, his whines squeal breathlessly, and his whimpers exceed his vocal cords. every compliment you throw at him sends his brain into autopilot.
"ngh, mh..." none of daisuke's words made any sense, his mouth melding into mush while yours formed dark hickeys on all his right spots. he was panting uncontrollably. looking down at you with those half-lidded eyes of his, ones leaking with so much love and lust. he grips the sheets with one hand while the other carefully combes through your hair.
your mouth was now at level with his nipple. you watch it harden in anticipation as he edges his chest a little closer to your lips, making you chuckle at how needy your boyfriend's gotten. "now, before i let you cum, i want you to be as loud as you possibly can be, okay? for me, baby."
he nods, loving your coos, but uncertainty nearly cockblocks him, "w-wait, babe, what if everyone hears me?" daisuke watches you huff a laugh, "like anyone's cared about us fucking before." you both chuckle, and daisuke relaxes, "oh right, hehe."
"even if someone hears," you lightly circle his nipple, the tiny bumps on its dark epidermis sliding so perfectly against your thumb. daisuke's dick twitches, already biting his lip at the sight of your tongue inches away from his chest's nub. you continue, breathing hot on daisuke's skin. "they get to know how beautiful my baby boy sounds in bed."
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
daisuke's breathing gradually quickens at the heat. when you finally lick his nipple, his cry is instantaneous. it's the prettiest noise you've ever heard, pulling at your heartstrings as a rush surges through your abdomen.
you close your eyes and focus on stroking his dick with every lick you make, his adorable moans filling the air. the way you roll your fingers and wedge them on the damp head, massaging the precum out his slit, melts daisuke, turning him into a pathetic, panting puddle in your arms. he absentmindedly ruts into your hand out of pure pleasure, sliding his slick all over your skin.
soon enough, his whimpers peaked, his voice consuming the room. you knew he was reaching his high based on the synchronization of his thrusts and your pumps. bed sheets crumple under his fist, and his other hand no longer on your hair but on the small of your back, squeezing your waist as he tries to travel down to knead your ass.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
"babe, i'm close...! i'm so close." daisuke blabbers between mewls, his hands clutching onto your hips for support. he spills all of him into your palms, creating a wet patch underneath his thighs. you intensify your already vigorous pumping, simultaneously pinching a nipple as you bite the other, "come on, baby... you're almost there." "i'm cumming—fuck— 'm cumm...ing, nghnghm! ohmygod...!" intense shudders siphon through daisuke's bloodstream, his whole body convulsing as he feels his milk bud, moments away from dripping out his sore slit. "let it all out, baby." you coo, tonguing his nipple with your wet love.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
with one final groan, his cum drenches your hand as he arches his back so far that it nearly sends you falling. all that fills your ears are the sounds of your boyfriend's sweet sobs, easing into an aching sigh.
after tugging his cock with a few more strokes, daisuke collapses further into the bed, his head lying so far back into the pillow that you can see his adam's apple bob after every gasp and gulp. your lips leave his nipple, and he shivers from the cold air hitting his wet skin.
as he's catching his breath, you stretch your back and crane your spine far enough to feel every bubble in your ligament pop down your bones. after rolling your neck side to side, you get a good look at daisuke, who is disheveled and disoriented.
you chuckle and lift his head up, daisuke's teary eyes akin to those of a desperate puppy. you bring your sticky fingers to your mouth, swallowing his sweetness, and daisuke watches, thirsty for a taste.
smiling at the drool dripping down his puffy lips, you bring your face to him, gracing him with a smooch. the kiss muffles his deep moan. his tongue explores yours, devouring his own dick with what lingers on your papillae.
daisuke pouts when you pull away, but before he whines, you wrap your hands behind his neck, sitting yourself up and pulling him into your chest. he sighs into the hug, embracing you as much as he physically can while you massage his wet and messy hair. you kiss his scalp and softly praise him for being such a good boy.
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[i was going to expand on the post crash aspect but i got wayyy too tired. but know that the story was originally going to have an afab reader, where you ride daisuke till he cums inside you, so i'd then add a line about how you couldn't care less about getting bred 'cause you were probably dying on the tulpar, anyway 😭 so it was going to be a LOT more angsty. i also intended to write a segment (after he admits his insecurity) of him missing earth and the structure of a home so badly that he's developed a mommy kink, so i could use it later when you guys go back to sexing buuut oopsies. i'll save that for another time 🫠. —iris🌠]
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gasstationlady · 1 year ago
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the start of something beautiful | a lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x private!reader (fc: tyla)
lando is spotted with an unknown woman, and everyone thinks she’s another fling. however, later revealed as naomi campbell’s daughter, lando's fans slowly start to love her despite her tendency to be private.
notes: btw, i’m so sorry i’ve been mia for a while! honestly, i have a ton of drafts i’ve written over the time i didn’t post, but i lowkey hate all of them lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy this fluff :)
disclaimer: swearing. photos not mine. OLD PIC OF JAZ AND ROSS (yes it’s a warning bc i’m still mourning that relationship, and ik i’m not the only one). there are a few mistakes in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix lol. also, i hope the flow doesn’t feel too rushed!
masterlist
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 138 others
yourusername 🌸
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yourbestie 👀
↳ yourusername 🙈
yourbestie framing these pics brb 😍😍
f1gossip
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2,993 likes
f1gossip We received these photos of Lando and a girl today! It looks like the same girl he has been spotted with for the past 3 months, but it’s still unclear who it is. ☕️
View all 202 comments
user three months of them being pictured AND YET NONE CLEARLY CAPTURE HER FACE. that’s some bs
↳ user no deadass bc you guys had one job 🙄
user lmaoooo i know the delulu fans are crying that she’s still here
user Are we sure it's the same girl? Lmfao even if it is, he's probably going to get tired of her soon!
user god i hope people learn and treat her better than how they treated luisinha
landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 759,301 others
landonorris First time trying wakeboarding 🤙
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user happy lando >>>
user Where’s your girlfriend
user not the red bull life vest lmfaoo
user lando rlly said here’s some shirtless pics to distract u
↳ user frrr but like it’s not working 😭
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f1gossip
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12,321 likes
f1gossip Naomi Campbell and daughter, Y/N Campbell, making an appearance at today’s GP! It's presumed that Y/N is dating Mclaren driver, Lando Norris. Our sources in the paddock mentions that the two visited the Mercedes, Ferrari, and Mclaren garages before the race. 👀
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user i'm literally in love w her she's soo beautiful 😍
user this actually makes sense that they knew each other since naomi has been connected to f1 for a while now
user I would be unstoppable if I looked like her.
user she looks so kind 🥺🥺
user oh the things i would do to reincarnate as a wealthy person’s child
user i was there and got to meet her and i’d just like to say that i’d go to war for her
landoupdates
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7,626 likes
landoupdates Max, Lando, and Y/N (seen in second photo, far right) with fans at an after party! We received these pictures a few minutes ago, and the fan included “Y/N mostly stood behind as Max and Lando were asked for photos but she was so so kind !! Although you can tell she likes to keep to herself, she told me she thought my dress was cute and even got Lando’s attention for me so I could ask for a picture 😭 Also, he kept holding her hand !!!”
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user her face card is insane.
user now that we know she's naomi's daughter, i can't believe we didn't see it before LOL
user “he kept holding her hand” 😭😭😭😭😭
user I have never wanted someone to go off private so bad 😩
user honestly she’s my new fav wag
user it’s the way everyone loves her rn lmaoooo
user LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT
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f1gossip
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11,234 likes
f1gossip Lando, Ginge, and Ethan possibly alluding to Lando’s new relationship with Y/N in the recent Quadrant video 👀👀
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user not them clowning him 😭
user i mean we all know by now that they’re together but this was the cherry on top
user melting over how he couldn’t stop smiling 🥹
user the fact that he kept this clip in 😩😩
user I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING “LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT”
user I get it 😭 I also wouldn’t be able to hide that I’m dating Y/N
user perfect example of private but not a secret, in love with them 🥹🥹
landoupdates
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5,389 likes
landoupdates A few photos of Lando and Y/N at the paddock today ☺️
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user literally my fav couple
user when is he gonna make it officially on insta
↳ user My thoughts exactly!! 😭😭 I know not everything has to be posted, but I’m just excited to see him officially announce it.
user my girl y/n looked so fucking good today
user i just want him to post her solely because i want more y/n pics
↳ user LOL you’re so real for that
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, angryginge13, georgerussell63 and 1,221,334 others
landonorris We so good ❤️
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user THE HAND PLACEMENT
user not tagging her is criminal 😭😭
↳ user girl what’s the point when she’s on private
user When will it be my turn 😩
user LANDO??? OMFG
user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😁😁😁🔊🔊
user omggg i can’t, they’re goals
user Y/N IS SO CUTE
user i luv my parents
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northern-passage · 14 days ago
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what have i been up to?
i decided to do a little check-in type post just to let you all know what i've been working on. i know things have been quiet here, mainly because i'm just not as active on social media as i used to be (but especially here)
i have been working on tnp, though. i've been rewriting chapter 2 (what was previously chapter 1) and i know a lot of people complain about rewrites but the fact was simply that i had written myself into a corner; when it comes to IF, when you have a lot of stats and branching and variations to track, you get to a point where it simply does not make sense to try and force it, and i really needed to go back and fix my coding and cut a lot of variables. which is what i've been doing, and many of you have seen how that's changed the game so far with the rewritten prologue (now chapter 1).
with that in mind, i've also done a lot of worldbuilding. again, you've seen some of this if you saw the pantheon post i made a while ago (though some of that has changed already, too, along with more edits to chapter 1 😅) and i've put a lot more thought into the setting, how the world "works" and the different relationships between countries and cultures, etc.
i will be yapping about all of that under the cut if you're interested, but if not, just know i am still working on the game. i do not have an estimated timeline for an update, but i am trying very hard to get chapter 2 out this year.
anyways, my rambling:
one of the main changes will be how Gael and Adrania function. Gael and Adrania remain similar in essence but the relationship has changed, as has the source of their hostilities. i've also put a lot more thought into the way gender roles would work in this world, something that i've previously been a bit wishy-washy on. reading more fantasy and studying lectures on the craft and understanding the way oppression works in the real world has allowed me to brainstorm a better, more realized world with tnp.
that being said, i still stand by my original goal with this project, which is that i'm not really interested in writing violent/graphic misogyny, transphobia, or homophobia. but i am interested in exploring the way empires hold power, and for tnp, that has always been through money and trade. even in the very first iterations, the major cities like blackwater and king's harbor are designed with very clear and purposeful class divides, i've just put a lot more thought into how this would actually work.
and there is also the influence of the gods; when your major religious figurehead is revered as a "mother," as well as the enforcer of justice, what does that mean for the world and the women in it? when you have gods that are genderless or genderfluid, how does that change societies perception of trans people, and gender as a whole?
i struggled when i started tnp about how to depict gender in this world, and originally i simply chose not to give it much thought, and i used a lot of anachronisms rather than actually trying to explore what transness and gender within the context of tnp would look like (i think this was my biggest mistake with Lea at the start. if you remember that you're a real one lol). and i think that's a cop out and simply not how any society would work. Adrania is an empire; people will be forced to comply to various roles and expectations in order for this empire to retain control.
so this led me to 1. reimplement the tolls, something that was present in my very first draft but got scrapped before publishing for the first time. it's easy to control people when you have papers and tolls to track them (or restrict their movements if they don't have the "correct" papers). 2. expand on the relationship between Gael and Adrania. where did these two countries come from? when did they split? how has Adrania managed to grow in power while Gael has not? and how has the plague exacerbated the hostilities? etc. we'll see a lot of this explained in the next chapter (as well as some edits made to chapter 1 again), with Adrania's trade agreements and how they exclude Gael specifically.
and finally, what gender roles are people expected to play within society? if Adrania's main god is a woman (okay, a wolf, but you get it) and a mother and also known to be a ruthless dispenser of justice, what does this mean for Adranian men and women? if their god of death is genderless and also commonly represented as a god of dreams and transitions (from life to death and wakefulness to dreams and from one gender to another or beyond) how does this impact the trans people in this world? if the god of war and harvest is sometimes a woman and sometimes a man, who benefits from elevating one depiction over the other?
lots of fun questions! which i think has led to some interesting changes in the game which makes the world feel more real. it also gives me a reason (not that i "needed" one but, ya know *gestures vaguely*) for all of the women i have in combat leadership roles: Keres, Hadrien, and Merry, just to name a few, and why someone like Redwine would be disliked and challenged as a political, landowning leader instead (and ultimately replaced by a man). while all the warrior gods are women (Wolfmother, the Moon, Stormbringer), Adrania emphasizes the male depiction of the Sun, which leads to this divide of men seeking landownership and more administrative political roles, versus women who, outside of motherhood, make careers as generals and captains and knights.
with trans people, there are similar expectations, of course, but they are also pushed towards more spiritual roles due to their perceived kinship with the death god as well as the Sun (and this also means that while motherhood is revered in this world, there is a looser definition here than in our world, due to transness being acknowledged, accepted, and an integral part of society. what "motherhood" is and what it means to people will be explored heavily in game, you just have to trust me on this one!) obviously there is a real history of trans people being seen this way, and it's something i've turned over in my head for a while. beyond the spiritual, though, trans people are seen in every other role as well, and we'll see some trans people who have little to no relationship with religion or the death god (like Merry, Lea, Clementine, Rodrick, and Rafe) and others that have an actively hostile relationship with it (Noel. lol) and including the potentially trans mc, we see a diverse depiction of trans people, as hunters and watchers and captains and healers and bards, etc. i'm hoping this still gives a well-rounded, multi-faceted look at how trans people live in this world without pigeonholing them solely as "divine oracles," or othering them from their cis counterparts.
overall, i feel that i've matured as a writer since i started tnp and i want that to reflect in the world as well. rereading the original demo made me cringe and a lot of it just felt very childish and flat, and i feel like i really didn't have a strong enough grasp on the fantasy genre, nor the skills and knowledge required to do proper, intensive worldbuilding at the time. now i think the story and setting and characters have grown a lot and i'm more capable and confident to do the things that past me couldn't. anyways thanks for reading all this, this post was just an excuse for me to talk about everything because i'm dying keeping it all to myself LOL. i look forward to catching back up to chapter 3 and finally sharing it all with you eventually!
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cxtori · 10 months ago
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Satoru Gojo ✭ Kiss Me Back
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wc: basically 5k… it wasn’t meant to be lmao
summary: based off of this thought i posted a while ago
genre: angst, fluff, drunk “confession” but it gets misunderstood, friends to lovers, silly drunk Gojo
warnings: n/a
tori’s note: I finished this fic after having it in my drafts for almost a year. I kinda strayed from how my original prompt went lol. Idk how I feel about the second half of this, I’m not a huge fan of it but y’know, it be what it be. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
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Gojo doesn’t drink often. In fact, it’s more accurate to say he never drinks. He hates alcohol. The way it tastes, the way it burns, and especially how quickly it affects his system.
He’s always been a lightweight, it only taking a few shots before he was intoxicated. But for some reason, Shoko’s teasing pressure to get him to drink got to him a lot more tonight than usual. 
It was supposed to be only one shot, then just one more. But now, here he is, a couple hours later and 6 shots down, drunk and stumbling, leaning against you for support.
You grunt as you struggle to keep the tall man vertical and walk him down the street to your car. 
“You are amazing, Y/n,” Gojo slurs, wrapping his arm tighter around your neck. You huff and roll your eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that 3 times already,” you laugh lightly. Gojo trips over his own foot, causing you to stumble and almost fall. Thankfully, you catch yourself and keep the two of you from crashing into the concrete. 
“Jeez, Toru! Are you serious?” You ask, unbelieving that he was so intoxicated that he really couldn’t walk straight. Gojo only moans miserably in response. “We’re almost there,” you sigh.
You knew how much he hated the repercussions of drinking and tried to stop him before it was too late. But he seemed to be feeling a little self-destructive tonight, so your warnings fell on deaf ears, much to your annoyance. Even so, you still felt empathetic enough to take him home yourself, turning down Nanami’s kind offer to do so.
After another block of walking and stumbling, you finally make it to your car, opening the passenger side and awkwardly shuffling around as you try to help Gojo into the seat. It felt like he was purposefully doing everything he could to make this simple task as complicated as possible. Which, honestly, you wouldn’t put past him. 
You eventually get him and his lanky limbs into the vehicle and hold back a laugh when he groans and dramatically drapes himself over your center console, arms spilling into the driver’s seat. You walk around to the other side of the car, moving his arms carefully before sitting down and pushing him to lean against the window. 
“Okay, tough guy. You still have the water Nanami gave you?” You ask. Gojo clumsily reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the water bottle he somehow managed to fit in there. Damn men’s pocket sizes.
“Good, I want it empty by the time I make it to your place,” you state, turning on the car and pulling into the street.
“The whole thing?” Gojo whines. You laugh breathily, finding amusement in his drunk demeanor.
“Yes, the whole thing. Gotta stay hydrated so drink up!” You encourage. 
The white-haired man mutters a complaint as he cracks open the bottle, and you watch dumbfounded as he drains it in seconds. 
“I didn’t mean drink it all at once…” you say. Gojo shrugs and sinks further into his seat. 
You drive in silence for a few minutes, the pale, orange street lights whizzing by and the soft, white noise of the tires rolling on the pavement making the ride a peaceful, comforting experience. At least it would be if Gojo wasn’t staring holes into the side of your face. 
In his drunkenness, he’d somehow managed to misplace his glasses and blindfold, much to your dismay. You adore those brilliant blue eyes, but damn, if they weren’t intimidating as hell when they were staring you down. You do your best to ignore it, keeping your eyes focused on the road ahead of you. 
You feel your heart skip a beat when a cold, calloused finger presses gently against your temple before tracing your hairline, sweeping your hair behind your ear.
“You’re so pretty,” Gojo whispers, his words barely audible. Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. 
“O-oh, umm… I- th-thank you,” you stutter horribly. Gojo hums softly as though he’s satisfied with your reaction before laughing lightly. His hand leaves your quickly heating face as he turns back to the window, slumping against the cool glass. 
After what couldn’t have possibly even been a minute, you hear the faintest snore come from the man. You poke his arm, expecting some kind of reaction. But nope, he’s out.
You take a deep breath and start blasting the AC. It suddenly feels really stuffy in here.
You soon reach his house and pull into the driveway before parking the car and climbing out. You open the passenger door, being careful to not let Gojo dump out onto the ground. You shake his shoulders, whispering to him that he was home and needed to wake up. After some gentle-turned-vigorous shaking, the man wakes up bleary eyed and a bit confused. 
“Have a nice nap, sleeping beauty?” You tease, taking his arm and attempting to pull him to his feet. He grunts, reluctantly swinging his feet out of the car and onto the ground. The moment he stands, he leans back against the car, his eyes squeezed shut in discomfort. 
“Shhhhit, why did I do that?” He slurs, the alcohol still screwing with his brain. At least he’s more coherent than 30 minutes ago. 
“Not to be like that, but I did try to stop you,” you joke.
“Shut up,” he groans. His eyes open and meet with yours, but instead of holding the annoyed glare you were expecting, they were soft, appreciative. His typically pale complexion was still dusted pink, though not nearly as flushed as earlier, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile to accompany it. 
He leans against you, his arms snaking around your waist in a loose hug, and his head resting heavily on your shoulder as he sighs. “Thank you, Y/n.”
“Why don’t you thank me when I’ve gotten you inside!” You laugh awkwardly, pushing the large man off of you. 
Gojo pouts, his soft, pink lips protruding in a way that could only be described as borderline sensual. You tear your eyes away from him and link your arm in his to walk him into the house with much less stumbling this time.
You make it inside, Gojo dragging down the hall to his room while you dig in his kitchen cabinets in search of ibuprofen. Once you’ve found what you’re looking for, you grab a glass and fill it with water before making your way to Gojo’s room.
You knock on the door, the sound echoing through the cold, empty hallway. A muffled “come in” reaches your ears and you open the door. 
You step in and your eyes land on a half-naked Gojo sitting on his bed, stopping you in your tracks. He did say to come in, didn’t he?
He looks at you, a questioning expression written on his face. With everything he’s done this evening, it’s beginning to be hard to believe he’s not purposefully trying to fluster you.
You draw in a breath and walk over to him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you nervous.
“Here, for the potential hangover,” you say, handing him the pills and water. He takes it gratefully, downing the meds and water quickly. He sets the glass on the nightstand with a soft thunk, and an odd silence follows after. 
“Well, I’m gonna head home now. G’night, Toru,” you say, turning on your heels and heading to the door. Your hand barely touches the doorknob when Gojo says your name.
“Y/n,” he calls quietly. You stop and turn to him with a questioning hum, but he doesn’t give any response back other than a waving hand, signaling for you to come back to him. You shuffle awkwardly to stand in front of him, confused about what he wants. 
He stands up, his chest almost bumping against yours as he does so. You begin to take a step back, but before you can, his hands are on your waist, holding you in place. You look up at him to ask what he’s doing, but the words get stuck in your throat the moment your eyes meet his.
Those bright, cerulean eyes that were so often hidden from the world, were looking at you with such care and fondness that it made your chest tighten. 
Before you’re even aware of what’s happening, his warm, soft lips are pressing tenderly against yours. 
Your tense muscles relax and eyes flutter shut as your lips push back against his. His hands grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him before one lifts the back of your shirt, fingers dragging slowly over your skin. 
You sigh into him, your own hands traveling up his arms, to his neck, eventually finding home in his silky hair. His other hand moves from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek as he deepens the kiss. 
His tongue darts out and sweeps across your lips and the faintest lingering taste of bitter alcohol bites your tastebuds, snapping you back to reality. It’s only then that you remember who you’re kissing, where you are, and how you got there. 
Your eyes fly open and hands move to his chest, pushing him away from you harshly. Gojo loses his balance, landing back into a sitting position on his bed, his once peaceful expression now shocked and confused. 
Your hand covers your mouth, surprised by your own actions. It’s only a second or two that you stay there, staring at each other before you decide that you should definitely leave.
“I’m sorry, I need to go,” you say, wasting no time in leaving his room and ignoring his calls for you. You jump into your car and start the engine before your door is even closed.
What were you thinking? He’s the drunkest he’s been in ages, how could you let that happen? You curse yourself as you drive home, frustrated that you allowed such a thing when your friend was in such a vulnerable state.
 You make it home and park in the driveway, but you don’t leave. You sit in your car and stare blankly at the steering wheel as the full weight of regret begins to sink in. 
You’ve desperately wanted that man to kiss you for years now. But not like this! Not when he was intoxicated and most likely not thinking straight. You wanted a genuine kiss; one he gave you because he truly wanted to. Not because his drunk-self just wanted attention.
How are you supposed to keep your feelings for him under wraps after this?
You’ll just have to lie. You’ll tell him that it was just a slip up, that you were caught off guard. That he kissed you and- dammit, you kissed him back! And not only that, you were wrapping your arms around him. You can’t play off your feelings for him when you kissed him like that!
You groan painfully as you open your door and force yourself into your house, trudging your way to your room. You change your clothes and crawl into bed before plugging your phone in. The screen lights up with the red battery, which disappears quickly, revealing a missed call and several texts from Gojo.
I’m sorry Y/n. Can we please talk?
It wasn’t what you think
Y/n?
Hello?
He almost never texts you, let alone several times in a row. But you can’t find it in you to respond. You turn off your phone and stare at your ceiling for what feels like an eternity, the moment replaying in your mind on repeat. 
It wasn’t what you think? What is he assuming you think?
You raise a finger to your mouth, remembering how it felt to have his lips on yours as you trace over them. 
It was so warm, so sweet. The way he held you close to him, so strong yet gentle. The way his thumb stroked over your face so tenderly. Maybe… it was real.
No. You can’t allow yourself to believe it was genuine and get your hopes up, you can’t.
You roll over onto your side just as your screen lights up once more. You take a glance at it and find another text from Gojo. 
I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Please let me explain.
A new wave of anxiety washes over you when you realize you’ll have to see him tomorrow. You do work at the same school after all. You don’t have a few days to process this or even find a way to respond. 
You wrap tighter into yourself and painful tears fill your eyes, not taking long before they’re streaming down your face and soaking into your pillow. You just want the earth to open and swallow you. 
Your only comfort is in the slim possibility that he was still drunk enough to have a chance of not having clear memories the next day. Maybe he’d wake up, see the messages he’d sent you and not even remember what it was about. 
You know it’s a foolish hope. He wasn’t drunk enough during that kiss to have no recollection of it. Even so, it’s the only thought that calms you down enough to fall asleep. 
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Okay, all you have to do is file a couple reports, meet with Ijichi and Nitta, and check in with Shoko on a new corpse. You don’t even have to be on campus the whole day, just do your few tasks and leave. 
You were not going to talk to Gojo today. You’re not sure your heart can handle it right now. You’ve barely even processed what happened last night. It’s like your mind is trying to convince you it was a dream. But the unanswered texts still sitting in your inbox say otherwise. 
You decided you would do your best to avoid the inevitable conversation. You’re sure that when he sees you, he’ll likely confront you about it. But, if you were with others, you knew he’d keep his mouth shut. You can’t hide from him, but you make damn sure he can’t catch you alone.
You know you’ll have to talk about it eventually, just not today. And maybe not tomorrow. Or the day after that.
You take a deep breath as you walk into the school and head for Yaga’s office. You’re not too worried about bumping into Gojo here as he usually avoids this part of the school simply because he’s afraid of running into Yaga and being asked to do something he doesn’t want to. 
You make it there without incident and knock on Yaga’s door before entering. Thankfully, your meeting doesn’t last long as you just have to turn in your reports and give him a quick rundown of your past week’s assignments.
Next was finding Ijichi and Nitta. Which meant going to the more common areas of the school. Which meant risking running into Gojo.
At this point, you were just hoping he decided to go MIA today as he typically did. Or maybe he’d be too hung over to even bother getting out of bed. Whatever the case may be, you just hoped he wouldn’t be behind the door to which you are about to enter.
You turn the doorknob quietly and poke your head in, finding no one but Ijichi sitting at a desk looking over a stack of papers, and you feel relieved. You step inside and Ijichi looks up, a small smile appearing once he sees it’s you.
“Ahh, Y/n. You’re a bit early,” he greets kindly. 
“Haha, yeah. My meeting with Yaga didn’t take as long as expected,” you laugh softly as you walk over to the desk and take a seat across from the man. “Where’s Nitta?”
“She’s currently out with the first years. They were sent to investigate the disturbance you reported a few days ago. Turns out it was just a few Grade 3 curses roaming around.” Ijichi replies.
He shuffles the papers spread out on the desk into a few separate piles before picking up each one, shaking them into neat stacks and paper clipping them together.
“Oh, that’s good to know,” you say with a smile. “So, you said you and Nitta needed something?”
“Oh, yes. We wanted your opinion on-”
“Gooood morning!” A familiar voice calls happily as the door swings open. You hunch over in your chair and glue your eyes to the papers in front of you, not daring to look at the man. You didn’t think you would run into him this soon.
“Oh, goodmorning, Gojo,” Ijichi says.
“Ijichi,” Gojo greets and nods to his co-worker.
He turns to you, your eyes still studying the reports laying in front of you. It was obvious you weren’t reading them though, considering they were upside down to you. “Y/n,” he says quietly.
You still refuse to look at him, mumbling a barely audible “good morning” in return.
Ijichi, sensing some tension, clears his throat and returns to the matter that brought you here in the first place. He only had a few questions, wanting your opinion on which recent cases should be assigned to which students. It wasn’t long before you had fulfilled your need and could leave.
You say your goodbyes, stand from the desk and make your way to the door, still having not spared Gojo, who was leaning against one of the couches, even a glance.
Despite hiding his eyes behind that dark blindfold of his, you could tell he’d been staring at you the whole time. You could practically feel his gaze burning holes into your skin. But, just as you expected, he didn’t dare bring up anything about the previous night with Ijichi in the room.
You walk out the door, thankfully leaving Gojo behind it. But you weren’t sure how long he’d stay there. You make your way quickly through the halls as you head towards the morgue. You open the door and step inside, the cold air making your body shake with a chill. 
You walk through, but find no sign of Shoko. Deciding that she must be in the office, you turn and start making your way over, it being just a couple doors down the hall. 
You step outside of the morgue and about jump out of your skin when you’re met with blinding white hair. Gojo. Of course. You should’ve known he would catch up to you. 
You stand there for a moment, him standing in the doorway and therefore blocking your exit. You still can’t bring yourself to look at him, not really, only giving him quick glances. It must be so easy for him to make “eye contact” when he doesn’t really have to.
“Can we talk?” He says, his voice taking on an unusually shaky and serious tone, and you suppress a sigh. Any hope you had of him not remembering last night shattered with those three words.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say quietly, desperately wanting to avoid the impending conversation. 
“Y/n,” he says, his large hand reaching carefully for your arm. You move quickly, avoiding his grasp.
“I don’t want to talk,” you say and push past him, making it through the doorway. You speed walk down the hallway to the morgue office, thankful that it’s just a few doors down. Gojo begins to say something but before he can, you’re knocking on the door, shutting him up quickly.
Shoko opens the door only a moment after you’ve knocked, silently stepping aside to let you in once she sees it’s you. Her neutral expression breaks a bit when she sees who’s behind you.
“Gojo, wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she says, referring to the rough condition he was in last night.
“I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?” He chuckles. He looks at you as he says this and you feel your face grow warm. Shoko walks over to her desk and shuffles through the various items in search of something.
“How are you feeling? You haven’t had that many drinks in a long time,” She asks curiously.
“I feel great actually. Y/n is a pretty good caretaker,” he says, once again looking over at you. “She’s the reason I’m not hungover.”
Yep, you certainly were. Maybe you should’ve skipped the water and ibuprofen. But that was before what happened. Past you had no idea that future you would be cursing that decision.
“He wasn’t too much trouble was he? Gojo’s always annoying when he’s drunk.” Like he’s not annoying when he isn’t drunk.
“He was fine,” you say plainly, wanting to move on from the topic.
“Fine is one way to put it,” Gojo says, an obnoxiously flirty smirk on his face. What happened to the serious and borderline nervous Gojo you had just a moment ago? Bring him back please.
“Maybe I should’ve let Nanami take you when he’d offered,” you mutter. Shoko turns back around to you, confused by the comments being made.
“Is that really what you would’ve wanted?” Gojo asks. 
“If it means we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, then yes.”
Shoko looks between the two of you, reading the looks on your faces and expertly deciphering that this was not a conversation she needed (or wanted) to be a part of.
“I’m not getting involved in this,” Shoko mutters as she collects her things and quickly leaves the room, abandoning you in this anxiety-inducing situation. “We can meet later, Y/n.”
“Ah! Wait, Shoko!” You call, but she ignores you and walks out the door. Well, this certainly isn’t what you wanted to happen. Now you had no excuse to leave and apparently didn’t have anyone to have your back. You knew Shoko saw your plea for help in your eyes and she actively ignored it. But, it is Shoko. She always avoids getting involved in things that don’t concern her.
The silence that follows Shoko’s leaving is so incredibly deafening and you hope the ground will open up beneath you. You debate leaving, but you know that Gojo will just follow you. There was no escaping it now. Dammit, and you were so close to getting out without speaking to him.
You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the desk, your eyes glued to the floor.
“Y/n,” Gojo speaks softly. You refuse to look at him. You can’t. You don’t know what will happen if you do. “Y/n.” He steps closer to you and you sink further into yourself, feeling your throat tighten. “Let me explai-”
“What did you mean?” You close your eyes, finding yourself talking before you can even comprehend the words leaving your mouth.
“What?” Gojo says, confused. You sigh, annoyed with yourself now for having said anything.
“Your text. You said it wasn’t what I thought it was. What did you mean?” Gojo looks at you. Well, you assume he’s looking at you. He could be looking at the wall behind you for all you knew.
“I…” Gojo starts but doesn’t finish. He sighs quietly and leans against the chair in front of you. He doesn’t attempt to speak again for a long moment and you begin to wonder if he even plans to. And you’re right, he doesn’t speak. But instead, his hand reaches for the dark blindfold hiding his eyes, and he pulls it down around his neck, his snow white hair falling into his face.
You tear your eyes away as soon as he does, not able to bear even the thought of looking at him directly in those blue irises. Luckily, you’re not tempted to as he keeps his head down, his hair shielding his eyes from your view.
“I remember everything from last night,” the man says finally. You feel your heart sink. You knew he remembered, but for some reason, hearing him say so only made your anxiety worsen. “You didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye last night,” he says with a mild, teasing tone, though it was made with minimal effort, the tension in the room making it hard to joke playfully.
Your arms tighten around you and your throat burns, your eyes remaining focused on everything but him. 
“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be leaving in such a hurry either,” you say, risking your voice breaking into tears. Gojo chuckles.
“I thought you’d stay for a bit longer after the way you were kissing me,” He jokes, and this time it has his usual lightheartedness to it. Despite that, you feel your blood run hot through your body and for a moment you forget that you’re avoiding looking at him. Your eyes whip over to see him already looking at you, a smirk on his lips.
“Wha- you kissed me!” You whisper yell, afraid that someone outside may hear you. You can’t believe him. HE made a move on YOU, and yet he wants to talk about the way you were kissing HIM?
“Buuut, you kissed me back!” He says accusingly but airily. You close your mouth at this. He’s right, you did. And this is just what you were afraid of, him realizing that you kissing him back meant you actually enjoyed it if only a little. You couldn’t hide it.
“And I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry,” you say quietly. You turn your gaze away just in time to miss the way Gojo’s face twitches and his smile drops. Before you can’t stop yourself, you continue to speak, the coil in your throat snapping and the tears beginning to well in your eyes.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you back. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me to begin with. But please, I don’t want to hear what you have to say about it. I know you were drunk and it was a mistake just… Please, don’t tell me that.” 
The silence that follows your statement is so quiet that you can hear Gojo’s uneven breaths alongside your own. You feel the urge to run, to walk out the doors and never turn back. To find a hole somewhere to bury yourself in, never to resurface.
“You think I made a mistake?” Gojo’s words barely reach your ears, his voice so soft you almost have to strain to hear it. He looks at you, completely dejected. “Even if I did feel that way, do you think I’d come here to mock you for it? Do you think I’d be that cruel?” The hurt in his voice is so obvious that you can feel it yourself.
“I… I don’t know.” Truthfully, you did know. You knew he wouldn’t do something like that. He may be annoying, but he’s not cruel. It was out of your own fear of the outcome that you were avoiding this conversation. But then, two words in his statement stand out to you. 
Even if. 
Meaning even if it was a mistake. Meaning he didn’t think it was?
The tears welling in your eyes begin to fall when you dare to look up at him, his own already on you. But you don’t look away this time.
“Would you have kissed me if you were sober?” You ask quietly. Gojo’s shoulders slump and his face grows longer at your words. He takes a cautious step towards you, testing to see if you’ll back away. And you don’t.
“Y/n, I didn’t kiss you because I was drunk,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. He takes another step forward, this time reaching out a hand to place on your arm, and you don’t pull away.
“That’s what I meant when I said it wasn’t what you thought. I knew you figured it was an alcohol-influenced choice. And while the alcohol admittedly may have had something to do with it, that wasn’t why I did it.” Your vision blurs as you begin to cry, your tears feeling like rivers of fire as they flow down your cheeks.
“I did it because I wanted to, Y/n,” he admits. He lifts a hand to your face, wiping your tears as he strokes your cheek with his knuckles.  “It wasn’t a mistake. It was a choice. And one I don’t regret.”
You close your eyes, not being able to see with them open anyway. His other hand moves from your arm to swipe at your tears, both hands now cupping your face tenderly.
“I don’t know what to say,” you mumble. You raise your hands to wrap your fingers around his wrists, your thumbs stroking over the back of his hands. You open your eyes, your vision clear enough to see him looking at you fondly, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His soft lips that, in the back of your mind, you’ve been thinking about all morning.
Your gaze must have lingered on his mouth for a moment too long as his smile widens. He comes closer to you, his head towering over yours and his hands guide your face to continue looking at him.
“You don’t have to say anything right now. But.” He leans his face to yours, his warm breath against your lips. “I would like to kiss you again. And I hope you won’t run away this time.” His voice lilts in that familiar, teasing tone and your heart twists.
“I won’t,” you say with a breathless laugh. 
His large hands continue to hold your head as he moves forward, wasting no time in putting his lips against yours in a passionate but tender kiss.
And this time, you let yourself kiss him back.
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©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate. reblogs appreciated
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rnnsdrms · 4 months ago
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THE BOYS WHO ... !!
ᥫ᭡. ── DEAREST READER. renna’s writing nsfw’s debut? wowza. not really a debut since i wrote an nsfw alphabet for mycroft two years ago, lol. i’ve been wanting to write nsfw for a long time now and while there are some on my drafts, i am still not confident with my writing skills. afraid it sounded cringey. but i’ve finished watching blue lock and i need to let some things out. FEATURING: BLUE LOCK, FREE! & HAIKYUU!!
ᥫ᭡. ── CONTENT WARNING. adult content. minors do not interact. characters are aged up (when i wrote this in mind). nothing too explicit.
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“—who press their cock between your folds, sliding it up and down but not wanting to slide it in just yet. looking down at you with an almost twisted smirk, they can feel your hips grind against their length, signaling them that you, his precious little doll, so desperate for his dick. with one hand holding their dick in place, the other reaches up to capture your neck in a firm hold—not too rough, just tight enough to loosen your jaw. “look at you, rubbing yourself against my cock. that desperate, huh? come on, use your words, baby, wanna hear you say it,” they tease with a condescending tone, their eyes darkening with every passing second, already consumed by a primal instinct you know all too well.”
BLUE LOCK: ITOSHI SAE, MICHAEL KAISER, KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, barou shouei, mikage reo, karasu tabito, shidou ryuusei, julian loki, aiku oliver, sendou shuuto
FREE!: MATSUOKA RIN, TACHIBANA MAKOTO, KINJOU KAEDE
HAIKYUU!!: SUGAWARA KOUSHI, MATSUKAWA ISSEI, KUROO TETSUROU,
“—tease your nipples until they’re sore, pinching the tender, sensitive buds with deliberate precision. their thumb glides across the taut skin, drawing lewd gasps from your lips as your body arches into their touch, trying to feel more of their large palms. you beg them to stop, looking up at them with eyes half-lidded, yet your pupils clouded with immense pleasure. ‘such a cute liar,’ they think, a smirk forming on their lips. leaning down, they capture your already bruised nipple with their mouth, swirling their tongue and sucking hungrily, each movement sending new wave of shocks through your trembling frame. “can’t believe you’re already this wet, just from my fingers playing with you like this …” they murmur while their face is between your chest, voice thick with satisfaction. the sight of you—a moaning, whimpering mess—fuels their pride, knowing they’re the only one who can unravel you so completely.
BLUE LOCK: CHIGIRI HYOMA, NAGI SEISHIROU, BACHIRA MEGURU, yukimiya kenyu
FREE!: MIKOSHIBA MOMOTAROU, RYUGAZAKI REI, SERIZAWA NAO, hazuki nagisa
HAIKYUU!!: KENMA KOZUME, SEMI EITA, AKAASHI KEIJI, bokuto koutarou
“—falter the moment their cock sinks into your wet hole, any semblance of composure slipping with every inch like the sweat streaming down the side of their head. their brows draw together, bliss carving itself across their face as your soft, warm walls envelop their size so perfectly—like you were shapes to fit only them. “ah, you feel so good, baby, fuck—” they groan, voice trembling as their head falls back. their hands grip your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as if to mark you. “you’re mine.” they mutter. then, they lean down to whisper in your ear. “mine, mine, mine, my pretty little thing—” their words breaking into a possessive rhythm as they begin to move, each thrust sealing the claim.
BLUE LOCK: ITOSHI RIN, ISAGI YOICHI, zantetsu tsurugi, nanase nijiro, noel noa
HAIKYUU!!: KAGEYAMA TOBIO, AZUMANE ASAHI, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, sawamura daichi, ushijima wakatoshi
FREE!: YAMAZAKI SOUSUKE, KIRISHIMA NATSUYA, SHIINA ASAHI, kirishima ikuya, nanase haruka
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RNNSDRMS ©. SUPPORT WRITERS BY REBLOGGING THEIR WORK. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR POST MY WORKS ON ANY SITE. I WILL POST MY POSTS ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA SITES MYSELF AND THAT’S ALL YOU GET.
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opiopal · 2 months ago
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(I found this old draft from like, early December! I remember it was a practice at writing dialogue and a bit of angst? I just remember sitting in an art class and typing it out lol, But I decided to clean it up a bit and post! Since I haven’t been posting often and I have about 60 drafts lined up, lowkey I can’t tell if it’s any good or not, since idk if my skills have grown since my wattpad days. I would’ve fully rewritten it, but I knew it would’ve been a pain so I just spell checked and replaced a few sentences.)
(First scene takes place before lesson 16, second scene is during lesson 16. Also this is just a thing I thought of a while ago)
•CW: description of blood and dead body at the end.•
Mc has been staring at him for a while, hugging onto one of their pillows tightly, completely lost in thought. Mammon had brought them an extra cup of noddles, they had both just gotten back from RAD a while ago so they were reasonably hungry, and he apparently made two “by mistake” and just didn’t wanna waste it.(Mc thought it was a dumb excuse, but didn’t want to mention it and just accepted the food.) Though Mc had finished theirs a while ago, mammon was taking his sweet time, awkwardly staring down at the floor and occasionally flicking his eyes over at the human sitting no less then four feet away from him. It doesn’t cross their mind that he may be acting so awkward due to the fact that they have just been staring at him for the last ten minutes, but how could they really tell? Ever since they had made a pact with him, he’d been so awkward that it made levi look like an extrovert. As the seconds go by he wonders if he should question them, maybe there’s something wrong with them?? Why else would they be staring?? Or maybe there’s something on his face? Is his hair a mess? Is his shirt wrinkled? Why in the three realms won’t they just look away???
“do you like me?”
as they finally break the silence mammon chokes a bit, he coughs as his cheeks almost immediately get red,
“H-wh- I- What?!” “do you like me?” They asked it so casually, as if they were asking him if it were going to rain soon.
“O-of course I don’t!”
“then why do you hang around me?”
“because I HAVE to!”
“even at home?”
“yes!”
“how come?” They set their pillow to the side as they stare at him, he stammers
“I- well- because.. it’s… dangerous for you to be alone!”
Mc tilts their head slightly and furrows their brows, ”do you think your brothers would be a danger to me? Am I not safe here?”
“NO! I mean- uhm- obviously you’re safe here, I just.. you know I need to watch you!”
“but if I’m safe.. then why would you need to?”
“well-“ he pauses, his face somehow gets redder,
Mc smiles and scoots closer to him,
“you wanna know what I think?”
he side eyes them as they slowly start to smile,
“I think we’re friends,”
“PFFTT WHAAAT! NO! No. No we aren’t.”
“I think we are!”
“No” ”yes,” ”no-“ ”yes!” ”no!”
“Then I’ll ask again, How come you hang out with me?”
“I-“ as he pauses again to try and think of an excuse that wouldn’t cause anxiety or worry, he doesn’t want them to believe his brothers would hurt them- but he doesn’t want them to know the painfully obvious truth!!!! mc grins and wraps their arms around one of his,
“we’re frriendss~” they say in a sing songy voice, pressing their cheek against his shoulder. at this point he was so flushed you’d assume someone had came in and slathered red paint all other his face.
a bit of frustration creeps in as he yanks his arm from their grasp, and pulls them in for a tight hug as he avoids eye contact with them. If he can’t deny it, he might as well own it.. right??
“Well. I guess you WOULD want to be friends with the great mammon! It’s only natural!!”
a little surprised, mc giggles and wraps their arms around his torso in return,
“oh yeah, that’s totally it.”
“A- hey! Don’t be gettin all sarcastic!”
They turn their head to look up at him, at this point nearly laying in his lap. They stop giggling for a moment to smile at his face red face, they didn’t really mean to tease him, but he didn’t seem to be taking it to harshly. though still they apologize,
“I’m sorry, you’re right. Though you are a pretty good friend.”
“… really?”
his response surprises the both of them for a second, honestly he didn’t mean to say it, that was just an inside thought that managed to sneak out. He adjusts his arm to support the back of their head as he stares down at them.
“yeah, of course, I think you’re amazing mammon… and you’re doing a fantastic job… keeping me safe, that is.”
• •
That moment almost immediately enters his mind as he stares down at them, pulling their body closer into his chest as their blood slowly begins to soak his arms and lap.
he wasn’t doing a fantastic job. He didn’t. He hasn’t. Why would he let this happen? HOW could he let this happen? He’s holding his human, his mc, as his youngest brother laughs.
He can’t look away, his mind re-memorizing their face, their eyes looked straight ahead with no sign of life, unblinking. He cups their face, shaking them gently, wanting them to do something, anything. To laugh at him being so worried, to make a comment about all the commotion, to mumble something about Lucifer, to blink, to BREATHE, To do ANYTHING. he could feel their warmth fading away, they were so cold. They didn’t deserve to be cold.
His brain was so clouded that he hardly took notice of the door being opened and his brothers arguing coming to a stop, his head finally jerking up when someone spoke their name.
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szkunas · 10 months ago
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KNOCK KNOCK, GUESS WHO! ౨ৎㅤsuguru geto.
synopsis / premise ♱ㅤwhen things in your life go well for a long time, there will undeniably be a problem knocking on your door. this time, the issue is your ex-boyfriend, wanted by the jujutsu society — who is very angry with you, even after he stole your money. || PART ONE (previous)
featuring ♱ㅤsuguru geto (jjk0 / 2017 version) x FEM reader.
warnings ♱ㅤ NSFW ♡︎ ㅤporn with very little plot ! toxic behavior ! suguru (GENOCIDAL man) ! unprotected sex (wrap it up) + unrealistic portraits of sex ! creampie ! reader and gojo are not in a relationship, but mutually interested in each other ! coercion / dub-con (both consent but just to be safe) ! genocide / death mentions (geto) ! stalking and breaking in ! bondage + choking ! spanking ! edging ! obsessed suguru agenda ! delusional suguru (you will see) ! seduction !
honorary mentions (inspirations, please read) ♱ㅤthis ask, by anon! all credits to them, i was not planning a part two, haha. whoever you are, i hope you enjoy it.
author’s note ♱ㅤso, today i was sitting down and thinking “im going to finish that yuta draft and probably start the sukuna draft for the event, since he’s winning the poll”. guess which of these two things I did? exactly. none. so, here is more suguru geto for you. i apologize in advance — i am not good at writing seduction. this is a bit rushed lol. repost because i can't see my post in tags
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THERE IS NOTHING SCARIER than discovering that the person you love most is hiding a dark secret. it could be a lover, a second family, a dark past or a real, rotting present. that’s the feeling you get: everything is rotten. the walls around you and the space are shaped into a molten mist that rots as time passes, as you read the letter that someone slipped under your door.
the highly wanted criminal, suguru geto, was seen in your apartment two weeks ago, as shown in the photos below. we ask for your full and complete cooperation in the investigation, and soon some sorcerers will need to interrogate you. expect their visit at any time and answer the door when the time comes.ㅤ— the higher-ups from jujutsu society.
oh, hell. no. this cannot be happening.
as the procedure says, you burn the letter and get rid of the ashes.
although your situation is absolutely desperate, the secrecy of jujutsu comes before your disastrous love life. you turn to look for your cell phone, and the delay hurts your bones.
it seems like the object disappears when you need it most. when you find the damn phone, you don’t even hesitate. as you type the number that, at this point, your head knows by heart, your hands shake. this cannot be true. they are lying, they are trying to deceive me and defame suguru. but why? why would society need to do this?
of course, mentally, you suppress yourself. and a rational part of your brain — the part that isn’t driven by the love you feel for a man who’s been with you a long time — slowly realizes that this is the truth.
that’s why the disappearances in the middle of the night, the slight disregard for non-sorcerers touching you or him. the preference for privacy and not allowing you to post photos of the two of you together. he doesn’t have social media, he said. it feels very public. what a lie, he was actually a wanted criminal and cult leader.
no one answers the call, and you press the button once again. and again. and again. by the sixth time, you’re not sure if your hands are shaking with fear, disgust, or hate.
your money. your savings, built up after you left the witch life behind. a small guarantee of your future, a future you planned to have with suguru. a future stolen and lost, by the same man who once stole her heart. beautiful black hair and purple eyes really make a girl forget to pay attention to the red flags.
you leave voicemail after voicemail, until the box is full. then, messages. text after text while your fingertips digit furiously. it didn’t take long for you to realize that a response from him would be even worse, so your last messages were simple, direct. do not talk to me anymore. don’t ever appear in front of me again. and don’t you dare involve me in your affairs, you bastard.
pressing the send button through tears was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done in your life. and so, blocking the number seemed like the most sensible solution. it’s not like he would respond, even if you gave the number to the investigators — your exact intention.
so everything went as it should. 39 missed calls, 104 unanswered messages that changed her perspective of him forever, along with a letter that turned to ash, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. your life took a new direction, an unpredictable metamorphosis that made you move to another address after the entire legal process on your part was concluded. you didn’t know, and you had no involvement, as hard as it was to believe. and then the sorcerers left you alone, and this was your second new start to normal life.
lonely and with a betrayed heart, in a new apartment far from your ex. unloading the last box does not bring the relief of releasing a chain, but the pain. the pain of losing something. as if the chain had tied itself to one of your ribs and ripped it away, taking a part of you.
but the tears dry. time passes. the pain diminishes, and the space that takes it in the heart is hatred. you become your priority again, and in time, you rise again only to fall again. one last effort, a call to a certain sorcerer you once knew, satoru gojo. this was his noah’s ark, his last hope before resorting to more desperate methods.
he answered. and since then, a lot has changed.
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it’s been almost ten months since suguru stole your money and trampled on your love and dignity. almost ten months in which you had your heart broken, and you slowly put the pieces back together. now, your latest relationship — it’s not really a relationship.
six weeks ago, you and satoru had sex in your apartment for the first time. since then, he has been very helpful in all aspects of your life and visits you regularly. he takes you on dates and even carried you when his feet got sore from walking. it sounds crazy, feeling so comfortable with someone after just six weeks, but that’s what happens.
gojo is more than an arrogant boy who uses humor in every situation he sees, he has a heart, and a very generous one at that. despite his insistence, the credit card that was entrusted to you is rarely used (and you managed to convince him to change the password, too). his intention was to ask for help, not to become a parasite that will take as much from him as he can. not when he’s a much better person than you expected. a kind of clumsy white knight, in a cute and a bit of a loser way at the same time.
so, of course, the dates have become routine now. cinemas, walks in the park, roller skating, going for ice cream. these experiences stand out in your memories, as sweet as scenes from clichéd romance films. kisses in the rain, desperate hands pushing you into the apartment — maybe this time, you might be able to tease him a little, make him lose it and have you right there, in a dark corner? the idea is exciting, dangerous, and so stupid it makes your heart flutter.
he still owes you a new bed, though. you keep fucking on your couch because you two broke your single bed the last time you did it.
checking yourself in the mirror before a date is, naturally, what everyone does. the red dress that adorns her body is a little short, the kind of thing you see on a seductive movie character. but satoru asked for this tiny — as tiny as the dress, in his words — favor and promised anything you wanted later if you wore that and hung on his arm all night. even when he’s being a pervert, he’s just a guy who’s whipped for you.
the idea makes you take a step back. satoru can’t be in love with you. yeah, okay. he does cute things often. he takes you on dates almost every week. he’s always trying to make you laugh and has already learned most of your quirks, likes and dislikes. he remembers you throughout the day, at random intervals, and buys you things so casually that you had to beg him to stop and not max out his card bill — he just laughed and said it was all cheap anyway. heirs…
but he can’t be in love. it’s all new, recent. perfect, but maybe it’s just hidden by the love fog at the beginning of a relationship. it has already blinded you to bad signals once, and you internally wonder if you are using gojo.
of course, part of you has already thought about it. having sex with your ex’s best friend and solve your financial problems. two birds, one stone. but satoru is everything suguru is not — true. intense and real, without a mask of sweet truth that covered a rotten truth.
honestly, you don’t want to think about it too much right now. this is a conversation that should be between you and satoru, not between you and your intrusive, insecure thoughts. he deserves to know the truth and he deserves to know that you’re just as interested as he is — not on the money, but on him.
a text message makes you smile right after spraying a sweet perfume on your neck. the screen lights up with that contact that has now become your favorite.
toru <3; ㅤ already in the dress? photos or else ill die (seriously)
a small laugh escapes your throat, and you immediately prepare to take a photo. stepping back a little and posing in front of the mirror, you could swear you heard something near your apartment door while simultaneously hearing the soft click of your cell phone.
one pose to show the front, and one for the back, with a soft, evil smile. satoru isn’t your boyfriend, but with his attitude, he could very well be. he looks at you as if you were the only woman in the world, and as if he wanted you forever. it’s beautiful. it’s such a beautiful emotion to see in those blue eyes that you can’t wait for the next time you look.
after texting back, asking what time the movie starts, your eyebrows come together in a frown. omnisity takes over the environment quickly, and you swear your heart stops beating.
this energy— it cannot be.
“hi princess. missed me?”
the whisper in your ear is so sudden that you immediately turn your face to look. a hand grabs your chin and forces your head to turn back to the mirror, and you gasp, immediately struggling.
suguru geto, on the flesh, the greatest traitor to have walked the earth since judas. traitor to the jujutsu society, criminal and mass murderer, and of course — your ex-boyfriend. right behind you, and forcing you to stare at the mirror as his free hand snatches your phone away.
you hit him with your elbow, but he barely moves. humming, as if he is amused. as if you are some game. geto’s hips press forward against yours, and he efficiently traps you between the sink and him.
this cannot be happening.
what suguru doesn’t find amusing, though, is your text messages with satoru. long or short, little flirtations or obvious nudes, these messages are simply something that makes him turn his nose up in disgust. how dare him. how dare satoru take the one thing suguru truly loved that way?
“get off me.” you murmur, your eyes widening. like any sorcerer, you know the basics of defending yourself, but panic runs through your veins like poison. your muscles feel like solid stone, and you can’t stop your breath from hitching when his hand stops cupping your cheek to grab you by the throat.
he’s a criminal who definitely must have had his share of fights. you are a sorceress who has not been in the field for almost ten years. in a real fight? he could drown you in that sink and satoru would only find out hours later.
satoru. the thought makes you immediately ramble.
“don’t you dare lay a hand on me. satoru will—” he squeezes your neck softly, a silent message for you to keep your mouth shut. suguru sighs, annoyed he needs to explain it to you, word by word. he really, really likes you, but he’s not in the mood after all these games.
this small action — squeezing your neck gently — makes you remember old times. old times, not good days. because, although they were good, the memory was effectively corrupted when he left you, almost a year ago.
“satoru will not do a thing. he doesn’t know i’m here, and he won’t know.” a break. “yet.”
your eyebrows shoot up, before your face contorts into confusion. what does he mean, yet? if anyone knows he’s here, he will be executed. why would he risk it, just to see you? is he here to kill you?
the thought brings visible panics into your eyes — the wonderful, pretty eyes you have. the window to your soul. your soul and body, which suguru would like to possess again.
again, what a ridiculous term. he never stopped owning it, in the first place.
maybe if you buy time, satoru will come see what’s taking so long. he will help. you’ll be safe.
but the date is only thirty minutes, and for satoru to come in person, you would have to wait another forty. one hour and ten minutes with your genocidal ex-boyfriend. wow. this must be some kind of twisted lottery of fate, where winning makes you unlucky.
you force your voice to remain calm, composed. he does not deserve the satisfaction of your fear.
“why are you here?”
“oh, look at her.” he mocks, as if you’re not even just there, listening. “asking why i’m here as if she has no idea.”
“i don’t.” you grit your teeth. “this is why people ask, imbecile. they want answers— ugh.” he squeezes your neck again, making you grow quiet until he relaxes.
“darling.” suguru smiles softly, but some veins are popping up on his hand. he is absolutely pissed, using that sweet voice to smooth you. “you know why i’m here. don’t play dumb. you— let satoru touch you.”
his tone is still soft, affectionate as the boyfriend you once called yours. but beneath the sweetness, there is an anger, a possession. like an animal whose territory has been pierced.
“did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he leans in, his hot breath making shivers run down your spine violently. “you underestimate me, my love. i’m a bit offended. coming from you, i expected so much more.”
his hand snakes all over your body, and close as he is, you’re sure he can hear your erratic heartbeat. thump-thump. thump-thump. thump-thump.
like the engine of a machine, accelerated to its limits. if your organs are your gears, you believe you are malfunctioning right now. a poorly functioning machine due to information overload.
it’s a lot to handle. his hands are warm as they gently pull your dress up, groaning. “i barely had to move it away. what, you enjoy dressing like a slut for satoru?”
it seems like your voice only works normally, as it should, when you feel your panties being pulled down, gasping. “suguru, no! you can’t!”
“oh, i can’t? why? c’mon, darling, just the tip.” he throws your phone away — the sound the device makes when it breaks against the wall is blood-curdling. he wraps both his arms around your waist, pressing his hips to yours. “pretty please?”
you grit your teeth. why the hell is this attractive? perhaps it’s because you barely heard geto beg before. but, no. you can’t. satoru, your satoru, he’s waiting for you — instead, you have your freak ex humping slowly against you. no way, is he wearing buddhist attire? like a monk or something. but these thoughts don’t matter. his words take you out of your head.
“i saw everything that day, you know. and a little before, and after that. getting all cozy with satoru, because i’m not here? you offend me, sweetheart. i’m a bit hurt.”
“oh, i’m not hearing this.” you curl your hands into fists, slamming them on his arms. “not after you lied about who you are, stole my damn money, and left! fuck you, geto! fuck. you.”
he smirks against your ear, grabbing your wrists and pulling your arms behind your back. you groaned, and he quickly decided to hit two birds with one stone.
tugging at the clothing strip that holds his robes together, he rips it off and uses it to tie your hands together as you squirm. he gives it a little tug, confirming it’s not too tight, and throws his clothings to the other side of the room.
“i know i haven’t been here.” he pauses, and you can watch him through the mirror as he forces you a bit down. “and i’m sorry. i wanted to tell you, i did. but i couldn’t. i know what you would think, and— i couldn’t lose you.”
it’s like a sincere admission, but you’re not foolish enough to feel sorry. not for him, definitely. throwing salt at the wound is your strategy right now.
“you lost me anyway. y’know, satoru really has a way with backshots that—” your words are cut off by a gasp, when he rips your panties off you and holds you down by the back of your neck. your back does a pretty arch for him like that, but suguru is not nearly amused enough.
“don’t be a brat. i made mistakes, but you, too. whoring yourself for my best friend? are you kidding me, love?”
“i’m not your love, don’t call me that.” he grabs you by the hair, tugging your head back up to look at his eyes through his reflection.
a pause, and suguru decided against what he was going to originally say, softening his grip on you.
“i missed you. i did. can’t i show it to you? just a little, baby, please?” he presses his hips into yours a bit more gently, and you can feel it.
his rock-hard erection, rubbing softly against your warm pussy. it makes you shiver and hum against your will. a part of you misses it. nothing wrong with satoru — he’s a great learner for an inexperienced guy — but geto knows just how to blow your back and be soft at the same time. an art satoru hasn’t mastered yet.
the idea of doing this to that white haired man who is so good to you — it brings tears to your face. how dare you want to say yes? but also, how could you say no when suguru’s head is rubbing deliciously against your entrance?
you close your eyes in defeat, not able to look at yourself.
“be quick. and don’t ever ask me anything again. you get this— and you disappear from my sight. forever.”
a deal with the devil. sacrifice something and gain something. your body for peace.
he chuckles, throwing his head back with a smirk. “oh, you and i both know that’s not happening, sweetheart. i’ll be here, forever.” he slips his hands down your waist, grabbing it gently and pushing his cock in.
the feeling is— exquisite. geto could try all he wanted, search in all the world, but he never could find someone like you. your body is almost poisonous — intoxicating is the right word. he just bottomed out and he’s already mixing his thoughts. that’s the effect you have on him.
suguru’s hips start moving at a restless pace, not giving you time to breathe or a warning. he can’t waste time with words, not now. not after being pulled away from you, his beloved, for ten torturous months. just when he was planning to come back and convince you to join his cult — or just grab you and lock you up, whatever —, he found you riding his best friend. sinking down satoru’s cock and making him cream all inside you.
the idea makes him huff, thrusting harder.
and you, under him? with your wrists tied up? well, you’re a mess. you’ll have to try bondage with satoru later, it’ll surely make his cock explode. your eyes widen, and you babble something — what’s wrong with your head? why are you thinking about satoru, then, suguru, then satoru again?
oh, lord above, maybe both at the same time? it’s a fantasy that makes you blush more than what you’re doing right now.
suguru guides your head up again, holding your neck gently.
“what are you thinking about, love? you keep—” he grunts. “clenching down on me.”
“nothing,” you stammer out. okay, there is something seriously wrong with you for enjoying this so much. a moan escapes you before you can stop it. “nngh— satoru!”
his eyes widen at the same time as yours. if your hands weren’t tied up, you would have brought one up to your mouth. the squeezing on your neck is firm, enough to not cut air circulation, but present. surely. the whisper of your name echoes through the bathroom.
“what did you just say?”
he looms over you, blushed cheeks and vulnerable expressions changing all the time, staring at your dumb little face in the mirror. suguru has a soft frown on his face, his eyes wide in horror, and his lips are slightly parted. but there’s a dark shadow oozing off him, a rage that cannot be contained.
he’s hurt. he’s mad.
you try to justify it quickly, to do damage control. “suguru! i said— i said suguru!”
but it’s a little too late for that, and lies only make it worse. he pins you down harder, his hips moving back at a ruthless pace this time. harder, faster — no mercy or trace of the sweet man who used to make love with you as if you were made of glass.
now, he fucks you as if he hates you, he hates your guts.
your moans and whines are muffled by the obscene sounds escaping where your hips meet. plap plap plap, mixed with a softly, slightly wet whisper of some sort. suguru lets go of your waist and brings his hand up.
you gasp when it hits the back of your thigh in a loud smack!
he forces you to look up, breathless as he murmurs.
“start counting.” he groans, harshly. and he smacks you again, right on the ass. he’s hitting so hard that you believe his intention is leaving a red mark — a present for satoru to look at later. and you’re right. his friend knows no boundaries and keeps taking what is his. what choice does he has, unless to mark you up?
smack.
you shiver, trying to squirm away and kick before he pins you down again.
“behave, brat. now start counting.”
smack.
“one—” you moan when his heat hits your sweet spot, huffing. smack. “two.”
“good girl.” smack. smack. smack. “how many is that, princess, mm? ohh, that’s the good pussy i missed so much. so— tight.”
“ngh! three! four! f—five?”
“is that a question, or are you answering me, my love?”
he chuckles meanly, thrusting into you again. you both grunt — near the edge already.
“suguru.” you throw your head back, whimpering. “i’m— i’m gonna—”
“ohh, you’re going to cum? that fast, honey? satoru hasn’t been good enough to you, i see.” he thrusts harder, laughing meanly at the way your eyes widen and tear up. “aww, he can’t treat you like you want. he fucks you like a good girl, i bet. but you want to be fucked like a slut.”
he leans down, peppering your neck with kisses and hearing your deep breaths. “it’s okay. i’m close, too. you have this effect on me, my love.” he grunts again, grabbing your hips. “throw that ass back on me, baby, yeah? yeah, juuuust like that.”
he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up as he presses his lips to yours in a upside down kiss. it would be romantic if it weren’t so possessive, visceral, crude. carnal. desperate.
when your lips part, he grunts and sighs softly, while you’re moaning loudly. nearly at the same time, your orgasms hit you both with everything.
suguru’s thrusts become messy, sloppy, and his skin feels a bit sticky against yours as he fucks himself using your pussy, pushing in ropes of cum to paint your insides.
you let your head fall forward when it’s your turn, squirming and whimpering softly. his forehead would have hit the sink if he weren’t holding you up. some more seconds, to dry out both of your highs. slowly, gently, he pulls out of you, watching the fat drops oozing out of your used hole.
suguru smirks as he undoes your restraints, kissing the back of your neck tenderly and adjusting your dress.
“don’t forget who has you first, mkay? i left a little gift for you and satoru here.” he sighs, sounding a bit sad. “i’ll have to go again, i’m sorry. but i’ll be back soon. don’t miss me too much. just leave your window unlocked, and i’ll be here again.” he grabs your face to turn it again, brushing his lips against yours. “unlocking them is a chore.”
geto leans back, and you shiver, confused. the sound of clothes being adjusted and thrown back into a body makes you turn your head moments after you heard it, still a bit too slow.
and he is gone. as you fix yourself up on your feet, you shiver as the realization hits you hard as a stone. no, no. satoru. no.
you stumble to the corner of the bathroom, picking up your phone. the screen is broken, but a call icon appears. you accept immediately, nearly sobbing.
“hey, senpai,” the nickname is soft coming from his lips. a small joke, playing with an honorific that he does not use with figures he should use. “you’re— a bit late. did something came up, or?”
“satoru.” you sob, and even through the screen, you can feel him tense up. his voice becomes more serious.
“what happened? are you okay? where are you? i’m on my way.” the scraping of a chair can be heard in the background of the call.
“i’m— my apartment. i have something to tell you. we need to talk, seriously, we—”
you shiver, and for some reason, you can picture your ex perfectly — walking proudly, with his nose up, the wind making his black hair flow behind him and cruel, purple eyes accompanied by a soft smirk.
“i made a mistake.”
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ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I APOLOGIZE FOR ANY MISTAKES.ㅤthank you for reading! <3
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fligniuz · 1 month ago
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Flig I found you many moons ago on ao3 and I would love to know your favorite ao3 fics/writers!!
It’s come to my attention that many Luigi nation tumblr girlies have not tapped into ao3 and they need to!! Plus I love hearing about writers favorite writers :) love u down bby
ANON! I AGREE! as someone who had to crosspost my stuff here ao3 gets almost no love from luigi nation we gotta fix that!!!! i know it takes a while to sign up but guys please it’s SO worth it☹️
god okay the love of my life is youllbemadeofashestoo, they’ve posted a few great fics for luigi but my ABSOLUTE favorites are preferred weapons (oneshot) and after the same rainbow’s end (2 ch, one with backstory and one with filth). last i heard from them they had a few things in their drafts but they haven’t posted since jan. and i miss them dearly☹️although they have been active under other people’s work (mine LOL) this month so they’re still kicking somewhere!! i hope they return soon
present_paradox is another wonderful author!!! not sure if they’re on tumblr but i really like mansplaining (this one is technically satire but i still think it’s way too hot LMFAO) anddd they did a collab with sailaway where they wrote a black mirror inspired fic about public sex with luigi (pay-per-view). i love the way he’s portrayed in these, this little community is so creative
BlytheDollFace is writing some good stuff too! they currently have a multi-chapter fic with an oc where luigi is a rock climbing instructor (����) but they also wrote this oneshot with brat taming luigi that i adore
ok one more… Cheytrbl is AWESOME and has posted a lot!! english is not their first language and yet their writing is some of the most phenomenal shit i’ve seen on ao3. my favorites from them are python (featuring tutor luigi) and they just posted elevation where you fuck him in surfbreak’s broken elevator LOL💚
came back later to edit this and add a few!!
doctorwhoper is another favorite of mine! they have a few fics running currently, my recs are music to watch boys to (ongoing, hasn’t updated since feb. tho💔) and this one featuring pilot costume luigi…ya💚i also miss them dearly but i think they are just busy with life things
snailsnailsnail (i think @/bellobambino here??) has some cutesy fluffy fics with luigi being a sauce thief and taking U out for a diner run that i thoroughly enjoyed, they also have a fugitive luigi au series if that’s your thing!
cursedtobevirgodominant has been mentioned on my blog before, i love their stuff!! they have two fics ongoing rn: one where luigi is your pretend bf and one that has an enemies to lovers kinda feel with lots of banter and angst!!
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moonstruckmoony · 7 months ago
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So a long while ago @lamieboo tagged me in this post (I'm not reblogging bcs it'll be way too long sorry 😢) I made some art and wrote a whole one shot for it because it was the perfect opportunity for a Winter lore I've always wanted to make. Please be kind lol 💀 I haven't written in ages and I'm such a noob when it comes to writing, also English isn't my native language. I had to run my draft through multiple writing tools back and forth to find better phrasings and dictions that better express what I want to convey. Roughly ~1,000 words.
Green and Gold
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She stepped forward as the wardrobe creaked open, the boggart slipping through the narrow gap in the door. Long, flowing golden threads emerged first, and Winter drew in a sharp breath.
The rest of the boggart soon took form—a woman in a pale blue dress, slumped weakly on the floor, her calf bleeding from a deep slash. Golden locks framed her worried face, and her piercing blue eyes, so much like Winter’s own, locked onto hers. Winter’s hand instinctively went up to the scar across her left eye. The woman’s chest heaved with silent breaths. The faint murmur of the students lining up behind Winter faded until she could hear nothing. Then, the woman’s lips parted, as if to speak.
“Close your eyes, snowflake.”
Was that truly her mother’s voice? Winter couldn’t remember if boggarts could speak. Could they mimic human voices? Or was it only mouthing the words while the voice echoed from somewhere deep within her mind?
Her hands went clammy. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. 
She knows what’s coming next. Behind her mother’s beautiful, tear-streaked face, a blinding green light appeared. Winter swiftly squeezed her eyes shut and raised her wand. “Riddikulus,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she kept her eyelids tightly closed.
· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · · Sebastian went pale, even as the swirling Mallowsweet leaves spun into a twister before him, which without question, the most mesmerising form of the Riddikulus charm he had ever seen. It wasn’t a form he would laugh at, unlike most transformations of the charm. It was breathtaking. But no, what had truly gripped him was the green light that followed her mother’s appearance. He had never seen Winter like this—paralysed by fear, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. She was always so composed, so captivating. Full of life, curiosity, and wonder.
He hadn’t realised this was her deepest fear.
And it was the very same curse he had cast just last year. On his uncle. Right in front of her. What had she looked like back then? He couldn’t quite remember. The sound of her laboured breathing lingered faintly in his mind, and he recalled her standing frozen for a moment before following him as he fled the catacombs. But the look on her face—he had no memory of it. Was she shocked? Horrified? Traumatised? He had been too distraught, too consumed by his own turmoil, to notice. Merlin, how must she have felt? Watching her best friend cast the Killing Curse—the very same curse that had taken her mother’s life—right in front of her? His throat went dry. His insides twisted painfully. Clenching his hands into fists, he dug his nails into his palms.
Was this… was this the reason she had refused to learn the spell? Not that he had wanted her to; in fact, he had been relieved when she didn’t. But it left him with questions. She was his kindred spirit, after all, and he knew the Dark Arts intrigued her, even if it was purely out of curiosity and for the sake of knowing. She wanted to learn, and had learned the other two curses. He had thought, perhaps, she would eventually ask about the last one, even though he wasn’t sure if he could bear to teach her—not after what happened to Solomon, to himself.
To Anne. But she was adamant in her refusal to learn it. She had said so out of the blue, when they began speaking again after the catacombs—after weeks of silence between them. Now, he finally understood why. And his heart broke for her. “Sebastian? Sebastian, what just happened?” Ominis’ voice snapped him back to reality. His best friend’s face was filled with concern, surely anxious for not being able to see what’s happening. Just this time, Sebastian is glad he couldn’t. He wouldn’t want Ominis to witness her in such a state. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He tried again, but his gaze drifted to Winter, who was slowly making her way towards them from the front of the line. Another student—Arthur Plummly, perhaps—stepped forward to face the boggart, but Sebastian hardly noticed. His focus was solely on Winter, her head bowed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her body trembling slightly. “Winter…” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. They stood there for a moment, locked in each other's gaze. “I… I’m sorry.” He finally managed to speak. “What... what are you apologising for?” So much. Even though he’d already apologised to her and Ominis countless times, he hasn’t apologised for this one. “You—you know why.” He knew she understood. They’d always had a way of reading each other, and this was one of those moments. “That’s… It’s not—you shouldn’t…” She trailed off. And Sebastian was thankful she didn’t finish. Because he did feel like he should apologise. Even though hadn’t known about this, what he did that day might’ve stirred up memories she had buried deep down. Just like the cursed boggart had just now. Another silence passed before he slowly pulled her into an embrace. One hand rested on her back, the other gently cradling the back of her head. She froze at first, startled, but after a moment, her body softened into his arms as he tenderly stroked her hair. From his peripheral vision, Sebastian saw Ominis approached hesitantly. His alabaster hand tentatively found Winter’s smaller one, which still hung limply at her side, and she allowed their fingers to entwine. Sebastian could see the questions lingering in his best friend’s furrowed brows, but he’s certain that Winter would talk to him–she would explain everything to them when she’s ready.
He glanced forward, aware of the curious eyes from the students waiting in line—some watching with intrigue, others with quiet sympathy. It was a peculiar view, after all: Winter with her two best friends huddled together in such an unusual position. Up front, he caught sight of Amit ducking as his boggart morphed into harmless paper planes flying about after his successful Riddikulus. Sebastian hadn’t seen Amit’s boggart, but he imagined it was likely something ordinary, like a failing report card marked with a dreaded “T” in Astronomy or History of Magic.
None of that mattered now. The only person of importance was the girl in his arms, her trembling slowly subsiding, her once-laboured breathing easing into a soft, steady rhythm.
· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · ·
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aspentreewrites · 1 month ago
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and when all the flowers are rotten and all the cannons shot
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Chapter 6
Pairings: Codywan
Tags/Warnings: (spoilers for this chapter!!) slow burn, pining, injuries and angst, force bond shenanigans, tending to wounds, AO3 rating is E for future chapters
Description:
The truth of the matter burrows deep into Cody’s skin, settling into the home it’s long-since made for itself there, nestled tightly amongst the other secrets he harbours that are too shameful to ever speak aloud.
He digs his fingers into his temples, breathing in heavy lungfuls of the steam-drenched air as if it might reverse the realisation that now weighs upon his heart like lead.
This is no longer just some passing infatuation.
He’s in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.
(or: an account of the relationship between one Marshal Commander and his General from in the midst of a war.)
Link to read on AO3 here!
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A/N: If you saw me misfire and post this draft 30 minutes ago no you didn't lmao. Sorry for the delay in posting this one - I got married last week!!!!??!! It still feels surreal lol. Thank you for bearing with me :) I hope you're all doing very well. Your comments have all been so kind, I'm always so very happy to read them.<3
Thanks as always to @whenyourfavouritedies for beta'ing this chapter!!!
Wordcount: 10.2k
Prev chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
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It first finds Cody in the early hours of the morning, just as he’s donning his armour in preparation for the final briefing before they touch down on Mekrun. It’s been a little over two weeks since his last deployment, and truth be told, he’s itching to get back into the fight.
He’s in a meditative state in his quarters as he slips on his bracers, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the mission ahead. He’s looking forward to being on the ground again, blaster in hand - it’s been a while since he and his General have been able to work together like that on the battlefield.
There’s nothing like that exhilaration, the feeling of being so entwined with another person that you may as well be one singular weapon, the movements of your bodies like a dance - always in sync, always in tandem.
It’s while Cody’s mulling over that thought, an absent smile tugging at his lips, when… something happens.
A small crack; a splintering at the back of his consciousness.
The pressure is small, gentle; breaking through to him like a baby bird hatching cautiously from an egg. Cody freezes, his body tensing at the foreign sensation.
It’s subtle - incredibly subtle. To any normal person’s mind, it might be something altogether ignorable. 
Cody, trained from birth to zero in on any potential danger and neutralise it, is far from a ‘normal person’.
The Commander gets the instinctive, incredibly disorienting sense that he’s not quite alone.
His head whips around to face the door, desperately trying to figure out if an intruder has slipped into his room. Could that be the source…?
All the while, that sensation in his mind continues scratching, tapping, fracturing.
It’s not that it gets stronger as the seconds pass, but it feels like it’s settling - burrowing deeper. Cody doesn’t know how, exactly, he’s able to identify what it’s doing, it just feels… strangely intuitive.
His mind races, trying to pin down the threat. 
Something is here. Something that shouldn’t be.
Cautiously, with a shaky intake of breath, he begins to probe at it - as much as one can probe at something that exists entirely within the brain, anyway - trying to get a sense of what this tiny, budding thing wants with him. His back finds the wall as his eyes continue to dart around, doing his best to keep himself steady. 
Why does it feel warm?
Not uncomfortable warm, like the trickle of blood down the side of the temple after a hit to the head, or like being choked by fire in the middle of the battlefield. No, it feels more like… basking in an expected beam of sunlight after a storm, feeling those first rays kiss your skin.
It’s almost as if it’s alive, Cody thinks faintly, partially hoping that this is all just some dream, the result of a fever he didn’t know he had. 
After the minute or two of analysis prove unfruitful, he pulls away from inspecting the sensation. The feeling of it at the back of his mind quickly returns to a light background hum at the corner of his consciousness, nearly unremarkable in how unobtrusive it is. Cody curses under his breath.
All he knows: this is far from normal.
He stays against the wall, unmoving and heart pounding, for what feels like an eternity before he pulls himself together enough to pull on his helmet.
He prods at it once more as he uncertainly ventures out into the hallway, each step weighing on him heavily. This… thing, certainly doesn’t feel hostile, but…
It might not want to hurt him, but it’s definitely, undoubtedly a concern.
Whatever it is might well pass, but Cody decides that he has enough time before his meeting with Obi-Wan this morning to make a quick drop in to see Helix anyway. If this is the result of some sickness, it would be better to deal with it now than in the middle of a firefight, if possible.
Helix is one of the best medics in the GAR - perhaps the best, by Cody’s estimate - and as such, he is exceedingly well versed in the art of giving bad news. There’s a particularly sympathetic type of expression that he makes that any seasoned member of the 212th could identify from a mile off - calm, neutral, expertly schooled to never look overly worried or condescending. The type of look that tells you that something’s probably wrong, but that it’s going to be dealt with as efficiently as possible.
… Which is why it’s of particular concern to Cody that right now, after he’s just patiently sat through a million scans, the man is making a face.
“What?” Cody asks stiffly, swinging his legs over the side of the medbay bed. Helix doesn’t immediately respond, instead continuing to gaze down at his datapad. His frown, unnervingly, deepens.
The nervous anticipation builds further in Cody with each second that ticks by in silence. The agony of it is almost comparable to a kick in the ribs from a varactyl - and Force knows he’s been on the wrong end of Boga enough times to know intimately what that feels like.
Helix lets out a grumble under his breath, and Cody swiftly revises his thoughts. No, actually: this experience is assuredly worse. 
He knows he should wait until the medic has had time to look over the results properly, but he’s getting more and more restless by the moment. Cody can’t help but press again, beginning to get a little desperate for a response - any would do, at this point, even just a word or two. 
“Is it the–” Cody hesitates briefly, unsure if he wants to give voice to this particular worry. “--Whatever that thing was that you found the other day? The… blip?”
Cody fidgets uneasily for a few more moments before Helix finally glances his way with a shake of his head. The Commander isn’t sure whether he should feel relieved or even more anxious at the blankness that’s overtaken the stoic medic’s features. 
His nervous system decides for him, settling on a strange, gut twisting tension. “No,” he replies. “The anomaly we found on the scan the other day seems to be… unrelated.” 
Right. That should be reassuring, Cody thinks. Somehow, it isn’t.
Putting his datapad down on his desk, Helix crosses the room in measured steps. He stops just short of Cody, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and then his facade falls. He… suddenly looks terribly concerned. Oh, Gods. Cody meets his gaze with what he’s sure is an equal amount of panic. 
“Commander,” he begins, taking a moment to gather together his words.
Cody decides that he must be dying. There’s no other explanation for this, surely.
Ah, well, he thinks, dazed, as he waits for Helix to continue. Twelve years old. I’ve had a better run than most. 
Still, Cody considers upon reflection, he’s always been of the opinion that he would die with a blaster in hand. The idea of some parasite in his brain taking him down is almost insulting.
Helix shifts, clearly uncomfortable with the verdict he’s going to have to dish out. “You might be in charge of the battalion, sir, but that doesn’t mean you’re invincible.” His voice is firm, bordering on reproachful, and Cody braces himself for impact. “Not from physical wounds, or…” he presses his lips into a thin line, “emotional ones.”
What?
“We’ve been built to be more mentally resistant than the average civilian, but post traumatic stress disorder can still–”
Cody chokes.
“I– Helix, that’s– it’s really not the problem,” he interrupts in a frantic stammer, wanting to be anywhere in the galaxy but here, having this conversation. Yes, he has the nightmares, they all do, but that has absolutely nothing to do with the situation at hand.
It becomes swiftly, humiliatingly clear that Helix isn’t convinced by his weak protest. 
“I’m just saying, the scans all turned up clean,” he responds sympathetically - and now there’s that face that he’s so damned good at. The medic’s calm demeanour is usually a reassurance to Cody, but in this moment it’s quickly becoming an irritant. He’s highly aware that he’s not going to be believed no matter what he follows up with. 
Cody frowns, craning his neck to try and get a look at the words written on the medic’s datapad over on his desk. “I’m not going insane,” he insists.
“I never said those words exactly,” Helix responds carefully, drawing the Commander’s attention back to him by moving to block his view. “But… a ‘cracking sensation’ in your mind..” he repeats with a raised brow, and Cody winces. It does sound bad out loud, admittedly. 
Helix sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “I think you’re incredibly stressed, Commander,” he continues, “and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Anyone would be, with the responsibility you carry. But it means you need to go on medical leave, soon. After today’s mission.”
Absolutely not. Cody levels him with a scowl. It’s petulant of him, perhaps, but he knows he’s not going crazy - this is real. It probably won’t be fixed by resting this off. “We both know that’s not going to happen,” he returns.
Helix sets his jaw, holding his gaze in challenge. After a few tense seconds, he relents with a sigh, stepping aside and gesturing resignedly to the door. Cody feels his body relax, just a little, now that he’s allowed to leave. He hates feeling cornered, being spoken to like a child - though quietly, he’s grateful that the medic has enough gall to do it. It’s saved him before.
“I expected as much,” Helix mutters, moving back to his desk and fixing the Commander with a warning glare. “No, I can’t order it unless I have outright evidence that stress is absolutely the cause, but I’m sure the General will agree with my assessment when I send the report over - which, make no mistake, I will be doing first thing when we return this evening.”
Cody, unfortunately, has no doubt about that.
He slinks out of the medbay with his tail between his legs, mulling over Helix’s words of concern as he makes his way through the winding hallways of the ship towards the meeting room. Perhaps if he gets in before Obi-Wan, he can make them both some breakfast. 
A result of stress… Cody’s expression darkens. Helix is incredible at what he does, but he’s categorically wrong in this case. He’s not losing his mind, he’s sure of it. 
(It occurs to Cody, briefly, that most people who lose sanity believe themselves to be fully of sound mind throughout the process, but he quashes the treacherous thought as quickly as it rears its head. That might be true for other people, but not for him.)
And then there’s the secondary concern - that whatever it is, it’s apparently completely separate from the blip that had been detected on the scan a few weeks ago. So there are two undetected unidentifiable things running amok in his brain right this second. Lovely.
Perhaps, he thinks, he can get a second opinion from the Jedi. Surely Obi-Wan can… scan him, or something, using the Force - then he can figure out what the real cause is, and fix that from there. If it is a living thing like he’d guessed, then it should be easily detectable, right?
That’s a good idea, Cody affirms to himself. Obi-Wan is already inside, I can speak to him about this after we’ve gone over the initial plans. Cody pauses just outside the door to the meeting room, his hand hovering over the controls as he blinks rapidly. 
He just thought that with a remarkable amount of confidence. It’s very early in the morning and the door is closed, why wouldn’t Cody be the first one in?
And yet, somehow, he’s certain. Obi-Wan is inside the room with two cups of caf, waiting for him to arrive. One of the cups, his mind tells him calmly, has sweetener in it.
That fact strikes Cody as odd.
Unusual, he protests internally, not entirely sure why this, specifically, is the sticking point for him amidst this rather unorthodox situation. Why sweetener?
Because, his mind supplies easily, we ran out of sugar reserves this morning.
Cody decides faintly that the possibility he’s lost his mind has just increased tenfold.
He shakes his head, trying to shake the strange thoughts that have been placed there by who-knows-what - there is still a meeting to be had, strange feeling or no. Cody presses his hand to the door controls with a confidence he doesn’t quite feel, and the door swooshes open smoothly ahead of him. 
Inside, Obi-Wan stands, his brow furrowed as he looks over the rudimentary battle plans they’d prepared last night. He looks like he hasn’t slept all that much, which is a strangely comforting piece of normality within this very disorienting morning.  
Cody’s eyes fall to the two mugs of caf that sit on the surface in front of him. A packet of opened sweetener sits on the counter nearby, fetched unhappily from the far back of one of the supply cupboards.
Ah.
For the first time in his military career, Cody doesn’t feel particularly smug about the fact that he was right about an impossible hunch.
Obi-Wan glances up from his work with a tired smile, oblivious to the war being waged in his Commander’s head. “Good morning, my friend. Shall we get started?”
Cody just about manages to nod and smile weakly in return. Later, he resolves. He can tell him about what’s going on in his head later. 
For now, there’s a battle to plan.
_____________________________
As it turns out, ‘later’ may mean not today at all.
There have been far too many updates from the ground to consider, far too many new plans to be made for Cody to rationalise being able to bring up anything new and potentially worrying to Obi-Wan. The promise of ‘later’ quickly becomes ‘when we’re safely back on the Venator and have probably had some sleep’. 
It also doesn’t hurt that Cody has spent most of the meeting fretting about Obi-Wan’s reaction and inevitable overblown concern, and as such is incredibly willing to put off the conversation for as long as possible.
It probably should feel more urgent, given the nature of it, but he decides that it can at least wait a few hours. They have lives to save on the ground, after all.
The Negotiator hangs stoically above the planet of Mekrun as they deliver the briefing to their men. It’ll be a hot landing - right in the centre of one of the biggest zones of the firefight - and the promise of action still sends a thrill through Cody, despite the worry this morning. 
He was literally created and raised for this, and in these moments, Cody finds that he doesn’t care as much as he probably should. Something in his blood that flourishes under fire, he supposes, and he knows that most of the Vode share that same spark, the love of the adrenaline, right or wrong.
“We will be splitting into two teams,” Cody announces, looking out across the sea of 212th gold gathered before the two of them. There are a few shinies present, not quite having earned their paint stripes yet - a shipment from Kamino that arrived barely a week prior. Today will be an exciting start for them, he hopes - and it shouldn’t be too dangerous of an assignment, to boot. 
Cody looks forward to seeing how they decorate themselves after today. Pride stirs in his chest as he sees the eagerness in their eyes, the evident excitement at becoming officially part of such a renowned battalion. He hopes to get to know them all properly tonight, safely returned and in good health.
Stepping forwards, he gestures to the hologram that’s rotating above the centre console in the room. It’s currently displaying a layout of the battlefield below, the layout of the local geography, and most importantly, the system’s Communications tower - the protection of which is the reason for their presence here today. 
“Alpha team will accompany the General into the comms tower on the north side, in the hopes of intercepting and disabling the bombs being planted there. We’re not expecting many of the Separatists to be present, but the ones that will be are priority for takedown.”
He zooms out a little on the holomap.
“The rest of us will make up Bravo team, coming in to hit the droids on their flank here,” he says, pointing to the southern fields a few kilometres away from the tower. “With any luck, we can repel the ground forces before they’ll have a chance to call in too many reinforcements.”
“There’s already a squadron down there made up of the local guard,” Obi-Wan adds calmly, stroking a thoughtful hand over his beard. “Cody’s team will join them in their base, creating a distraction so that my team can - hopefully - slip in and out of the comms tower without drawing too much notice. This infrastructure is vital to both the civilians and Republic operations of this sector, so we must ensure it isn’t destroyed outright.”
He glances at Cody, giving a subtle nod for him to continue.
“The distraction will be conducted in a way to draw the enemy down to us in the southern quadrant,” the Commander explains, taking over smoothly. Delivering a strategy briefing clearly and efficiently is almost like an art in Cody’s mind, and he would like to think that he and Obi-Wan are exceedingly well practiced at it. “It’s the safest place to engage, away from both the tower and the living space of the engineers that work there. Once we see that they’re turning their attention to us, I will rendezvous with Alpha team and we’ll regroup from there.”
Adrenaline creeps through Cody’s veins, anticipation of the fight to come building within him. He powers down the holomap, his eyes drifting over his men one by one, seeing the same emotion stirring within each of them as they stand, that spark in their eyes unmissable. 
“To recap, then,” he says evenly, folding his hands behind his back. “Alpha team, with Obi-Wan: stealthing into the tower, disarming the bombs, getting any civvies to safety. Bravo team, with me: get in fast, cause enough mayhem to draw as many troops as possible south. I’ll split to rendezvous with Alpha once my team is sufficiently set up, and we’ll progress with any impromptu plans then. Any questions?”
It takes less than 5 minutes for all queries to be sufficiently answered, and a further 10 for the 212th to be gathered at the dropships. 
Exactly 20 minutes later, they’re planetside.
The familiar smell of smoke and burnt circuits fills the air as Cody disembarks from the ship, plasma flying through the air in all directions and a cacophony of violence filling his ears.
The excitement in his veins is, he imagines, as potent as any hit of spice.
Maybe Helix was right in that there’s something wrong with him, but being on enough battlefields throughout his life has Cody's mind strangely tangling up the feeling with the thought of ‘belonging’. 
Perhaps it's a natural reaction. He's a clone; he has nowhere, he owns nothing - nothing but the fire and ash of war, the rifle placed in his hand, the brothers who he fights alongside.
… And the Jedi he was sworn to protect. 
As the last of Bravo team exit the ship behind him, Cody makes sure to distance himself from that particular train of thought before it can do any damage. Now is not the time for such distractions.
“With me!” he calls, signalling for his men to follow as he makes a rush for the cover of a fallen tree.
Swiftly, Cody assesses the battlefield ahead from his current vantage point. The local guard here have put up a formidable defence considering their numbers, but this level of warfare is not something they’d been trained for. Now’s the time to free them of that burden. 
The communications tower looms in the distance a few klicks northwest of their location. It stands a little ways up a cliff, overlooking a ravine below - all points for potential reinforcements to be stationed, if Obi-Wan’s team is particularly unlucky. 
Cody knows he’ll need to bring out all of the stops to divert the clankers’ attention exclusively to the fight down here, but he’s got enough tricks up his sleeve that he’s not particularly worried. They have around seven minutes before Alpha team will be sneaking their way into the tower - that’s five more than Cody needs. 
He allows himself a small smirk behind his helmet. Showtime.
Cockiness is not a trait of Cody’s that he likes having - it irritates him when he sees it excessively in his peers, and he is more than aware that giving himself over to it is a surefire way to get himself killed - but sometimes he can’t help himself. He’s damned good at what he does, and he knows it. On a mission like this, he can indulge himself a little.
With a practiced hand, he carefully removes an EMP from the pouch at his hip. He rolls it in his palm as he watches a large group of clankers in the field ahead marching towards the dugout base their allies are camped in. They’re likely preparing an ambush. Cody’s eyes narrow. 
Not on his watch. 
“Droid poppers at the ready, men,” he instructs quietly. “We rush the platoon on my signal.”
Behind him, he hears the squad prepare themselves, a series of quiet rustles as they draw out their grenades in unison.
“Hold…”
It’s as if Mekrun itself is holding its breath along with them - the moment of calm before the storm hits.
Cody lets out a slow breath to keep his movements steady, tilting his arm back as the droids gather together, ever closer… his eyes track the droids, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“Now!” he barks.
A volley of EMPs launch overhead, scattering amongst the feet of the enemy. The droids don’t even get the chance to panic before the poppers all go off in unison, pulses of electromagnetic energy causing the entire group to collapse in on themselves in a shower of sparks.
Cody launches out of cover alongside his men, picking off the clankers before they have time to reactivate.
“Keep moving! We don’t stop until the bastards are sending everything they’ve got to us!” he yells. “Get to the dugout, go!”
The battle, once they successfully gun their way down to the hastily made guard station, proves to be one of attrition.
Over the next hour, Bravo team make their stand, slowly but surely cutting down the waves of droids sent to their location.
It’s an odd thing to be relieved about facing down a group of destroyers, but when the droidekas come, Cody knows without question that they’ve drawn the worst of the horde away from the tower. 
It quickly becomes a pattern - Cody leads a small group above ground, drawing the encroaching clankers nearer to the dugout. Once they’re close enough, the rest of the squad dash above ground to surround them and take advantage of their surprise. 
It’s not the most elegant of battle plans, admittedly, but it works damned well. It seems the Seps here weren’t expecting any form of meaningful, planned resistance, and they’re paying the price for that now.
By the time Cody feels satisfied that the rest of his men can take care of themselves, they’ve started carving a tally to track their kill counts on an old wooden pallet inside the base. Cody is content enough with being in second - he’d be far out in first place if not for the combination of a conveniently clustered group of B1s and a particularly well aimed grenade by Wooley.
One of the shinies, a fairly diminutive sniper named Blackbird, is in dead last and not particularly pleased about it. They’ve been repeatedly warned of the consequences - the tragic fate of being the one to cover the first round back at 79’s when they make it home. As Cody prepares to head off to the rendezvous point, he hears another officer trying to bolster their spirits by promising that most of the boys will probably only order something cheap. It doesn’t seem to cheer them up much.
The Commander can’t quite stifle his chuckle, patting the kid on the shoulder as he passes.
“Rite of passage, rookie. You’ll manage. Just make sure you don’t fall in the field to get out of the punishment, yeah? Eyes sharp and watch your flank.”
The young clone nods, sitting a little straighter after the acknowledgement from Cody. “Y-yes sir.” they reply, offering a sharp salute. They haven’t yet managed to speak to him without stuttering, at least a little. 
Over the years, Cody has become more than aware that he’s inspired a certain… mythos from the Vode back on Kamino. More often than not, any newly assigned troops have stars shining in their eyes during their first few weeks of deployment whenever they speak to him. Apparently Rex and a few of the 501st ARCs have had the same issue. 
It’s flattering really, just… misplaced. He might be a decorated name, but off-duty they’re all equal. The last thing Cody wants is to make his brothers intimidated by him. It’s an uncomfortable notion.
Still, he offers a smile, giving Blackbird a short nod before he begins to jog away. 
Once safely clear of the danger of the open field, Cody activates the comms at his wrist. “Alpha team, I’m heading for the rendezvous at the scheduled time. I believe our distraction has been successful, but the fight is ongoing. What’s your status?”
Only static and silence greets him in response. Cody frowns. He gives it a minute before he tries again.
“Alpha team, status report.”
Nothing.
Great.
It would be incredibly nice, Cody reflects as he picks up the pace with a groan, for things in the field to go as planned just once.  
_____________________________
The rendezvous point isn’t far, thankfully, and a majority of Alpha team – currently headed by Waxer – are already there and waiting by the time Cody arrives.
They offer salutes as he approaches. Obi-Wan, for whatever reason, doesn’t seem to be with them.
“At ease,” Cody nods, a question in his gaze as he gestures for Waxer to go ahead. 
“Commander,” the Lieutenant begins, clearing his throat before giving his report. “We disarmed the bombs successfully, but the Seps did a number to the tower during the fight. It’s fixable, but comms are gonna be out in the system until the engineers can get back to work.”
Cody had suspected as much, but it’s a relief to hear the tower hadn’t been damaged beyond repair. It’ll certainly make the imminent cleanup efforts much simpler. 
“The General and a few others split off to sweep for more survivors,” Waxer continues, “but he shouldn’t be long. There were only a few members of the maintenance team missing by our count, and he said he sensed they were nearby.”
Cody relaxes a little at the news. It looks like they arrived quickly enough to prevent too many civilian casualties - an unfortunately rare circumstance as of late, so it’s not something he’ll take for granted. It’s looking so far like this will be an easy win for the Republic. 
“Understood,” he replies. “Good work. Bravo team are holding strong at the southern quadrant. The distraction there has been successful, and with your team going to support them, we should be able to take out the remaining stragglers easily enough. The Seps are turning their attentions to–”
Cody freezes unexpectedly, his blood turning to ice. Nausea settles over him as his mind prickles with an altogether horrifying sense of knowing.
Obi-Wan is hurt.
Waxer blinks over at his suddenly-motionless Commander. “Uh…” He waits for a few moments in bewilderment, glancing back to the rest of his men before he clears his throat quietly. “... You were saying, sir?”
Obi-Wan is hurt. There’s not much time. 
The strange sensation that Cody had tucked away at the back of his mind this morning rings out with alarm. It doesn’t feel like speculation, or a voice speaking from anxiety and fear - it feels like concrete, unmistakable fact. 
Not much time? Cody thinks desperately in return, trying his best to communicate with the feeling. It doesn’t respond.
Oh, Stars, no.
For a long few seconds, all he can do is just stare at Waxer, dazed and disoriented as he tries to find his voice again.
“The–” his throat sticks. He tries again. “The General is– injured.” Cody stammers, his voice coming out weak. 
His stomach churns with a sense of dread that won’t subside, and he momentarily forgets how to breathe. He catches himself reaching for his comm-link instinctively, before he remembers that there is absolutely no way he can get a message to his General right now, or in the immediate future, not with the tower damaged. Damn it all. “Where did he and his squad go when they split?”
Waxer shifts in surprise. “What? None of us can reach him sir, how did you–?”
Finally, Cody’s training kicks in and he manages to wrangle some sense of control from the haze. Some strange divine force is connecting him to his Jedi, and if it’s telling him the truth, then it might be enough to save Obi-Wan’s life. His prime directive above all else is to keep his Jedi safe, and he will move the stars themselves to do so if he has to. The feeling is disorienting and his fear is mounting, but he can cope with that. He has to act.
His gaze snaps back to Waxer, grasping his brother’s shoulder firmly. “Tell me where he went, Lieutenant,” he commands, hearing his words coming out much stronger than before, to his relief. “That’s an order.”
Waxer straightens up. “The north ridge, Commander, right by the chasm. But I don’t know if he took the road up to the cliff, or–”
No. He took the path to the ravine. He’s still there.
Cody’s mind is suddenly, sickeningly overtaken by images of his General laying face down in a stream, his blood seeping out into the water around him. Was it the presence in his head showing him that, or was it just the result of his own terror? Gods help him, he can’t tell.
“Understood,” Cody says, beginning to stride away.
He feels his stomach twist - he’s actually believing everything this damn voice is telling him. If it turns out that some parasite or Separatist chip has infected him, he might be walking right into a trap… but Cody knows that he can’t afford to take that risk. Not when so much might be at stake.
He begins to run, barking orders over his shoulder. “I have flares. Prepare a med-evac to sweep over the ravine if I don’t signal in the next thirty minutes. Until then, the team at the south field needs backup - I’m counting on you, Lieutenant!” 
The run turns into a sprint, spurred on by the alarm bells inside him screaming at him to move, move, move.
“Sir–!” Waxer calls after him. “The weather– there might be a flood incoming, are you sure you want to–?”
The Commander pays the warning no mind. A sudden flood in the ravine might well be both possible and deadly, but as long as there’s a chance that Obi-Wan’s down there, his job is to drag him out before then. He can’t afford to waste a second.
If you’re lying, I’ll make you regret it, he thinks pointedly to the voice in his head, on the off chance that this is some malicious, external force peering into his mind. Once again, Cody’s attempts at communication go unacknowledged. He’s strangely glad of it - at this point, he’s fairly sure that having it respond would make him feel worse. The threat serves to make him feel marginally better, at least.
As the path down to the ravine comes into view, Cody feels his chest tighten, sending a silent prayer out to any god that will listen that he makes it on time.
Just hang on. I’m coming.
_____________________________
The ground beneath Cody’s feet changes from mud, to pebbles, to the splash of shallow water as he makes it to the base of the chasm.
Please be nearby, Cody thinks desperately as he searches, the strange sensation in his head giving way to an intuition about the directions he needs to take. He doesn’t like the feeling of trusting it blindly, but he doesn’t have much choice. Please be alive.
Further in, it whispers to him, faster.
Cody doesn’t think he’s ever run so fast in his life, but he spurs himself on even so.
The water is fast-flowing but still mercifully shallow, though Cody doesn’t want to imagine just how quickly that could change with the threatening rainclouds that have started to gather overhead. Waxer might have been right in his warning, but it’s far too late for worrying about that now.
He skids down a small slope, taking himself ever lower into the winding chasm. His heart pounds wildly against his ribs as he spots a body near the bend ahead, a flash of gold and white armour, unmoving. The sound of blaster fire has been steadily getting closer with each footstep.
Fuck.
Sprinting around the curve in the rock, Cody’s worst fear is confirmed.
Ahead of him, the ravine widens, the cliffs on either side rising imposingly, impassive observers to the carnage happening within. 
The group of his brothers that had splintered from Alpha team are dead. Their bodies are scattered, cast aside as they wait for the rain to wash their corpses into the lake downstream.
A collection of droids and a group of people - mercenaries? - clad in dark gear are engaged in a shootout with one another within the canyon. This would ordinarily be enough to stop Cody in his tracks - they hadn’t been informed of another faction’s presence here, and he doesn’t know where their allegiances lie - but right now, he doesn’t have the time to try and work out what’s happening or why. 
Instead, his gaze is glued to the body being dragged further through the chasm by the hands of one of the mercenaries - the body clad in a thick brown cloak that’s enveloping lighter, fawn coloured robes; the body that’s currently slowly bleeding out from a gash in its side; the body of the man he loves.  
Cody doesn’t stop to observe further.
He’s - recklessly, certainly, but he can’t just sit and just wait - storming out into the open in seconds, beelining straight for the man pulling Obi-Wan along behind him like some prized prey from a hunt. 
His blaster is raised, and they’re not expecting him - one clean shot to the back of the head is all it takes. 
A snarl rips itself from Cody’s throat as the mercenary tumbles forwards to the ground, dropping Obi-Wan’s body unceremoniously into the shallow stream - by some mercy landing on his back, and not face down into the water. 
The attention of the surrounding hostiles are all now very decidedly on Cody as he continues to sprint ahead.
It’s an open space with no cover, and Obi-Wan’s body is in the centre of it all. He can’t exactly fight back with his blaster, so he does the only thing he can reasonably think of to do in the time allotted to him. 
Reaching his Jedi’s side, he swiftly reaches down to unclip the lightsaber that - miraculously - had remained at his belt throughout whatever fight he’d faced earlier. 
Cody presses his thumb firmly into the activator as he plants his feet over the body of his fallen General, sparing only a quick glance downwards to the pallid face of the Jedi beneath him. He doesn’t have the time to check his pulse or breathing now, not while they’re surrounded by enemies. Please, please be alive. 
The hum of the saber and the gentle vibration that buzzes through the hilt is a steadying force as blaster bolts continue to fly around him in all directions. He’d love to have the luxury of stopping to ask questions, but it doesn’t seem as if he’s going to get the chance before he or everyone else here lies dead.
One afternoon, long ago, Obi-Wan had shown him the basics of Soresu - Cody hopes that he remembers enough to make it through this.
His addition to the fray certainly seems to have confused both factions. The droids enter into a panic, shooting at anything that moves, including their own numbers. Most of the mercenaries stand their ground, though a handful decide that it would be in their better interest to abandon their quarry (and presumably, their paycheck) and retreat further into the ravine. 
They wanted to take Obi-Wan’s body. Why?
Cody stays above the Jedi, pivoting on the spot to parry incoming bolts back to their senders. Without the use of the Force to aid him in intuiting where the shots are coming from, he can only try his best amidst the chaos. Every shower of sparks or yelp of pain from a returned bolt that connects is a victory, buying himself a few more precious seconds before the next projectile comes his way.
Cody can barely find the ability to think, let alone to form a cohesive plan. All of his thoughts are concentrated on surviving second to second until he can safely reach the flare gun at his hip.
He brings down the lightsaber in an arc to slice through the shoulder of a mercenary that had unwisely decided to chance running his way, before twisting around his body to block an incoming bolt from the right. His joints aren’t loose enough for this type of thing, he thinks with a grimace. It suddenly makes sense to him why Obi-Wan insists on warming up each day with dancer-like stretches and movements before he trains - all of these acrobatics are hell on the hips.
Keeping the saber in front of him swinging rapidly, Cody does his best to estimate a count of the enemies that remain. The two groups around him are carving through one another at such a rate that hopefully this won’t last too much longer. 
A splash of water drips from the visor of his helmet, followed by another, then another. If Cody’s body could tense further, it would.
The drizzle of rain would be welcomingly cooling if it weren’t for the threat the worsening weather represents. He’s all too aware that all of his efforts would be for nothing if they both drown down here.
Centering himself as best as he can, Cody remains steadfast. Fighting so desperately as the heavens open above him - a part of him is reminded of Kamino, of his training. The headspace is a welcome one to slip into, and he allows himself to draw focus from it. This is no different to then, he tells himself. I survived every day back then, I’ll survive now.
A volley of shots come his way, and he spins the lightsaber around himself in an approximation of a move he’s seen from Obi-Wan in the past to deflect them. It proves mostly effective, but one bolt nearly finds its mark, tearing a scorch mark through his right pauldron. 
The shootout intensifies for a few unsettling seconds, and then, to Cody’s unease, all falls unnaturally still. 
He doesn’t waste the opportunity, surging forwards in a hope to cut down the last of the droids, but before he can reach it, it crumples in on itself, crushed by… nothing. Before Cody has time to react, the last two mercenaries fall to their knees, their faces turned to the cliffs above, one uttering a hoarse cry of the word “Master!” 
There’s a chuckle from somewhere high above him, and Cody tears his eyes from the men, risking the glance upwards. 
Something is very, very wrong.
A cloaked figure stands on an outcropping, watching him as a wild predator watches its prey. 
Cody grits his teeth, raising the lightsaber a little higher.
“So, Kenobi has found himself a little pet, has he?” the figure calls down to him, sounding sickeningly amused. Their head turns toward the mercenaries. “You… have failed me. Run, and be grateful for your lives.”
His voice, gravelly and low, echoes through the ravine, and Cody becomes incredibly aware as the mercenaries scramble to escape that it is now only him, the Jedi on the ground, and this stranger. Alone for miles in any direction.
The figure - a man, by the sounds of his voice - leaps down into the ravine proper. It’s a drop that would kill anyone else, or at the very least break some bones - this person, however, lands with a feline-like grace. 
He must be a Force user then, Cody concludes, his eyes never leaving the threat and his feet remaining rooted to the ground over the Jedi. 
It is, unquestionably, his duty to keep his General safe. If Obi-Wan lives, then Cody will drag him out of here or die trying, but if – the thought almost causes his heart to rip apart here and now - if Obi-Wan is dead, then he will protect his body to the last. No one else will touch him, not while Cody still draws breath.
“Come now, clone,” the stranger rasps. He sounds winded - potentially injured from an earlier fight, Cody notes. He’ll take any advantage he can get, right now. The man lifts his hood to reveal himself as a Zabrak, distinctive red and black markings carving up the sections of his face into sharp, jagged portions. A striking visage - Cody’s never seen anything like it. “Surely you don’t wish to throw away your life to protect a dead man’s honour. Hand him over.”
Cody focuses on the weight of the saber’s hilt in his hand, taking a deep breath and easing his white-knuckle grip as much as he can. Obi-Wan had told him once that you need to treat a lightsaber like a dancing partner, not like a tool. 
Work with it, and trust that it will work with you, he hears his words echo in his mind. It shouldn’t be swung like you would a simple club, or an axe.
He is tense, alert, but in this moment, he is not scared. He is Commander Cody of the 212th Battalion. He has never faltered in the face of death, and he faces it down with the same steadiness now, dogged and unflinching. If this man truly is a Force user - a Sith - then let the stories of this final stand be sung by his brothers into eternity.
Cody holds the Zabrak’s unblinking gaze. “If you want him,” he says, trying to channel that effortlessly calm, firm tone that his Jedi flaunts in the worst of situations, “then I’m afraid you’ll have to go through me.”
The Sith’s lip curls up in a cruel sneer, all pretense of composure discarded in an instant. “Your blind loyalty to the one who holds your leash is touching,” he spits, venomously. “But in the end, it won’t save either of you.” 
He reaches into his cloak, drawing his own lightsaber and activating it, crimson red and double-bladed.
Cody’s eyes widen in horror and recognition, a cold shiver creeping up his spine. That blade… he knows exactly who this is.
With the knowledge of his name comes the knowledge that his chances of seeing tomorrow are slim, but Cody feels his resolve only grow in the face of it. Knowing that this is the bastard who has made it his mission to hound and torture Obi-Wan over the course of his life, he’s even more determined to keep him away from his Jedi at all costs.
“Maul,” Cody states, his voice low. The Sith begins to stalk around Cody in a slow circle, a viper waiting to strike. Cody leans a little further back on his left foot as he turns in place to meet him, the lesson on Soresu lingering at the back of his mind.
Maul smiles at Cody’s recognition. “It’s so nice to hear that he still talks of me, even after all this time.”
All hell breaks loose.
Cody narrowly avoids being struck as Maul launches forwards with an unnatural speed. He brings up Obi-Wan’s lightsaber to block at the last second, the force of the clash reverberating through his arm, up into his shoulder with a stinging pain.
Relax the muscles, he remembers Obi-Wan telling him as he corrected his form, fighting while tense will only harm you.
As the Zabrak darts over to the other side of him, Cody acts, striking him with the back of the lightsaber hilt. He leaps backwards in a desperate attempt to gain a few seconds of freedom, using them to pull out the flare gun and fire into the air. 
Maul snarls, pressing the attack once more. Cody throws the gun to the side, redoubling his efforts on blocking and redirecting hits. If Waxer saw the flare go up - and Force, he hopes he did - all he needs to do is survive for a few more minutes.
… A few more minutes against the man that killed Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn in less than five when fighting one on one. A bead of sweat trickles down Cody’s temple.
Easy.
He grunts as Maul lands a kick to his abdomen, stumbling back a few steps but being sure to maintain his grip on the lightsaber. Being disarmed here would be a remarkably quick way to die. 
They trade blows back and forth, Cody focusing on the defensive, Maul pushing in every chance he gets. It’s an exhausting effort, and he’s sure his panting is audible through his helmet, but he’s still on his feet, scrapping for every inch he can take.
Commander Cody, as he has done in so many battles before today, holds the line.
Each second he stalls is another second won of analysis; learning how Maul moves, the speed at which he’s about to rush in and attack, the patterns he’s about to swing his saber in - and then Cody sees it.
His left side. 
He’s favouring his left side.
Each of his attacks are weighted, so his right arm must be damaged. If Cody can exploit that–
He grunts as he wards off a particularly strong slash to his side.
– then he might stand a chance of survival.
Cody draws back, loath to move too far from Obi-Wan’s unconscious form, but knowing that he has to risk it in order to press this advantage. Shielding, he reminds himself. He has to shield, or else Maul will be able to anticipate what he’s about to do.
The Sith smirks, his expression near manic in his relentless pursuit. “Scared, little clone?” he taunts, watching in clear sadistic amusement as Cody retreats a few more steps. 
Cody subtly adjusts his stance, as if he’s going to continue to block. He raises his chin in defiance, his eyes narrowing. It’s what Maul will expect to see.
“No.”
Maul smiles. “The tremor in your voice betrays you.”
Time seems to slow as the Zabrak charges, his blade raised overhead to strike.
Cody plants his feet, feigning a block before darting to the right at the very last second and bringing Obi-Wan’s blade down to catch the top of his shoulder.
It doesn’t go deep, but the damage is done. Maul hisses in pain, backing up rapidly as his right arm hangs limply by his side. Cody doesn’t dare let his guard down yet, repositioning himself in front of Obi-Wan.
Maul snarls, his eyes flashing with anger. “You dare–”
Just as he begins to speak, thunder rolls in the distance. The threat of a sudden flood looms heavily over the both of them on this impromptu battlefield, and Cody lets out a shuddering breath. It’s bad news, but all the same, it might be the best news possible for him.
He sees the moment the truth dawns on the Sith - by staying here, they’re both risking certain death by drowning - a ravine this narrow and deep would fill with water in seconds. Even if Maul wasted time killing Cody here - and he could, even when injured, no doubt - he couldn’t drag away Obi-Wan’s body as he had his lackeys trying to do earlier, not with his injured arm.
For whatever reason, his motive was to take the Jedi’s body along with him, and now there’s not enough time. 
Either all three of them die here and now, or Maul gets the chance to escape before their med-evac arrives.
Cody keeps the saber raised, even as the Sith takes another step back, evidently considering his options. His expression turns unnervingly blank as his eyes alight on Cody once more. There’s something more in his gaze now, something that wasn’t there before - recognition? Respect? 
“Clever boy,” he murmurs, dipping his head. He deactivates his lightsaber, holstering it at his side and clutching at his injured arm with a grimace. “You’ve forced my hand. Very well.”
Cody watches as Maul begins his retreat further into the canyon, the hand gripping Obi-Wan’s lightsaber beginning to tremble with the receding adrenaline. 
“The next time we meet, you will not have the privilege of hiding behind your owner’s weapon,” Maul snarls, his voice echoing through the canyon with that one last lingering threat before he disappears from view entirely. It’s true, Cody knows. He has a target on his back now, the size of a planet - and he’s sure it will be collected on.
For one long, long moment, the Commander simply stands, panting for breath, not quite sure if this is all a stress induced hallucination, or whether he actually survived the encounter. 
The rain, though still light, has been getting progressively worse. It collects at the base of his visor, creating small waterfalls that dance in the periphery of his vision. Briefly, Cody allows himself to close his eyes.
He’s pulled out of his dizzying sense of disbelief by the sound of a soft groan below him.
Alive. 
Cody’s eyes snap open.
A strangled gasp escapes him as he falls to his knees, pulling off his helmet and letting it clatter to the rocks below, scratches be damned, as he sees the Jedi’s breath stutter - not a sign he’s doing well, of course, but there is breath to be had.  
The sheer relief at seeing Obi-Wan alive, the lingering adrenaline from the duel and the sheer shock that his own heart’s still beating all combine to make a dizzying amalgam of uninhibited recklessness. 
He cradles Obi-Wan’s face in his hands, lowering his forehead to press to the other man’s. One of his hands slips to curl at the nape of his neck, and his heart pounds as Obi-Wan weakly reaches up to do the same.
If any of their men could see them now, sharing a keldabe kiss in the middle of the battlefield, they’d never hear the end of it. Cody is very aware that he should be reprimanding himself for this lapse in judgement, should be pulling away to a respectful distance, but he doesn’t. He can’t.
He’s still breathing heavily, and he’s fairly sure that holding Obi-Wan this close means they’re both bleeding onto one another. He doesn’t quite have it in him to care.
“I’ve got you, General,” he manages to choke out, his fingers curling tighter in the Jedi’s hair, afraid that he’ll disappear if he lets go for even a second.
Obi-Wan smiles - Stars, he’s so glad to see that smile - “Quite… the display there, Commander,” he rasps, his tongue darting out to wet his cracked and bloodied lips. Cody swallows. How long had the other man been out here before he arrived, fighting for his life? His free hand slips down to apply some pressure to the wound at his side, trying his best to stem the bleeding. 
Cody feels nauseous with the weight of his worry, and he knows Obi-Wan will be able to sense it. Still, he can’t quite bring himself to give voice to it, instead trying to smile. To his credit, he manages, even if it’s considerably watery. “Ah, I was… trying to impress you. Angling for a promotion, you know.” 
He draws back to raise his head as he hears the distinctive whirr of a LAAT/i approaching, and feels some of the tension drain from him. Not long now. He carefully shifts Obi-Wan, pulling him away from the stream and into his lap, hoping to alleviate some of the discomfort the other man is so clearly in. Obi-Wan lets out a breath that sounds more like a wheeze than anything else.
“I believe… the only position you could be promoted to would be mine, Cody,” he comments. He sounds incredibly weary, and his eyes fall shut with the effort of his words.
“Never let it be said that my ambition is held back by common sense,” Cody jokes softly. He gently brushes a few strands of hair away from his Jedi’s face, his gloved fingers lingering at his temple. Obi-Wan’s brows are pinched together, clearly in terrible pain. Cody can almost see the way he’s slipping, losing his grip on his consciousness. 
“Hey. Stay with me,” he implores, his chest tight.
It’ll only be a minute or so at most before the medical evac will arrive, but Cody is incredibly aware that he can’t let the Jedi fall asleep before then. He racks his brain frantically for anything he can say to hold Obi-Wan’s attention, to give him any reason to keep talking.
“Shit,” Cody mutters under his breath, “Obi-Wan, you–”
“I’m trying,” the Jedi mumbles softly, and Cody’s plea dies on his lips. 
Instead, he just clings to him a little tighter. “... I know.”
For a moment there is silence, pierced only by the rushing of the stream beneath them and the uneven, laboured breaths of Obi-Wan. The Commander watches him, swallowing thickly before he speaks. Hopefully this will be enough.
“My name… it’s not actually Cody,” he says. 
Obi-Wan’s eyes flicker open at that, hazy and bewildered, and Cody can’t stop a fondness from entering his expression, despite his concern. A temporary victory. Now to keep it going. “Thought that’d get your attention.”
“It’s not…?” 
Cody shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his General. The fingers at his temple have long since shifted to tenderly stroking through the wet strands of his hair.
“Well, it is now, I suppose. But it wasn’t initially.” 
Obi-Wan looks like he doesn’t have the strength to keep speaking, but there’s curiosity in his gaze. Cody blinks away the sudden stinging of tears that have gathered at the corners of his eyes. 
Just stay with me for a few more moments, please. You’re nearly there.
“Kamino,” he forces himself to say, even as the words come out hoarse. “During training. My brothers had decided to name me, after I....” 
Cody trails off, deciding that now is not the time to detail the abuses he had (quite stupidly) decided to take the brunt of to take some heat away from the rest of the Vode. Obi-Wan doesn’t need distressing further, today.
“... Well. Kote,” he continues. “They named me Kote. Except, over the years, most people misheard it, and… well, Cody was the one that stuck.” 
Obi-Wan blinks slowly, clearly at war with himself to keep himself conscious. Cody is unsure that the other man has even heard him, let alone taken in his words, but after a long pause, the Jedi gathers himself to speak again.
“‘Glory’,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper. “Isn’t it?”
A tear escapes down Cody’s cheek as the evac ship finally comes into view above them, lowering into the chasm. Half dead and the man is focusing his energy on accurately translating a fairly archaic word in Mando’a. That’s his Obi-Wan.
“Yes,” he affirms, his tone hushed. “That’s right.”
The Jedi smiles, finally losing his internal battle as his eyelids flutter closed once more. “You wear it well.”
Sudden shouts erupt from behind them as the LAAT/i lands and the medics start to rush their way over to them.
Cody sucks in a shuddering breath. Obi-Wan will make it. He will.
He reaches for his discarded helmet, slipping it back onto his head. With a grunt of effort, Cody lifts the Jedi up into his arms, turning towards the ship. 
“I’ve got him,” he insists to the already-fussing medic as they approach. They reach out to try and take Obi-Wan from him, but Cody adjusts to hold the Jedi tighter, slipping past them.
“I’ve got him,” Cody repeats, his tone probably harsher than it needs to be. He’ll apologise for it later, but for the moment he’s just relieved that they back off.
No one else tries to bother him as he takes a seat on the gunship, holding Obi-Wan securely across his lap. Bacta first, then rest, he thinks wearily.
Somehow, though, he doubts he’ll get much rest in the near future. The weight of the other man in his lap is a reminder of everything he has to lose, and Cody knows himself well enough to be sure that he won’t be doing much more than pacing until his General is conscious and back with him. 
A matter of hours, if he’s lucky. Days, if he’s not.
A deep sigh escapes him as the ship takes off and someone comes over with a scanner to check their vitals.
At least he’s alive. At least they’re both alive, somehow. Cody’s still not entirely sure how he managed it, but he’s incredibly grateful.
He thinks of the squad that will be still on the ground, fighting to take out the last of the Separatist forces. He has confidence enough in Waxer to know that they’ll be doing fine on their own, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel uneasy at being pulled out of the fight like this. 
Outside, the rain worsens, battering against the side of the ship as it continues to ascend. Cody glances down, taking in the states of the ravine he was fighting for his life in mere moments before. The water is filling up in there rapidly, the speed of it already something terrifying to behold.
Cody really, really hopes that Maul didn’t make it.
He knows that he probably did.
_____________________________
Back on the Venator, Cody stands in only his underclothes, a handful of bacta patches plastered over his arms and his back as he stares absently at the bacta tank in front of him. His Jedi floats inside, having been immersed practically upon arrival, his eyes closed and his expression oddly peaceful, given the circumstances.
The lance in his side will likely be a permanent one, but better a scar than a cause of death. 
Helix had left the two of them alone ten minutes ago, charging Cody with calling him if Obi-Wan’s condition suddenly changes, though Cody suspects that the request was only made to keep him inside the medbay and not disappearing off to his room to treat his pain alone, as he has in the past. Even knowing that, it’s working. 
Cody doesn’t want to leave Obi-Wan’s side, not yet.
He begins to pace slowly, his exhausted mind overflowing with everything he needs to tell the Jedi of when he wakes. The mission status, Maul, and… 
Cody pauses in his steps briefly, pinching his brow. And whatever is going on inside his head.  
Whatever the meaning of the feeling, Cody has at least worked out one thing: it seems to be wholly and inextricably tied to Obi-Wan. It lies dormant now, having retreated into the back of his mind at the same time that the Jedi had lost consciousness, but it’s unmistakably still present. Steady, warm - not unlike Obi-Wan himself, he supposes.
It was telling him the truth. That’s the main thing he can’t quite wrap his head around, and in the past hour or so, he’s done nothing but try.
“What’s happening to me?” he whispers aloud to no one in particular. He’s not generally one for angst, nor for lamenting over situations in which he has no control. Something about all of this, though - it feels significant, important for him to understand, though he doesn’t know why.
He doesn’t know a lot of things today, it seems.
Cody takes a seat on the edge of one of the medbay beds with a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. 
He’ll wait here, he decides, until duty calls him away, or until Obi-Wan wakes up - whichever comes first. The quiet yet incessant beeping of various medical equipment isn’t exactly conducive to his ideal working environments, but he’s completed paperwork in worse places.  
He types out a quick message on his datapad, a request for a mug of caf to be brought to him, along with a blanket. Cody hesitates, glancing over to where Obi-Wan is still healing, then adds an amendment. A double shot, he thinks, would be more sufficient.
Despite his exhaustion, it’s still only the early afternoon.
The Commander sighs again, opening up a few tabs worth of backlogged reports to start reading through.
It’s going to be a very long day.
next chapter here
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Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @mitth-eli-vanto
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6okuto-moved · 2 years ago
Text
ASTROLOGY BOT
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1.2k words, just timeskip akaashi overthinking and crushing on gn!reader. LOL
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akaashi has always considered himself ‘on the fence’ when it comes to superstitions and signs from the universe.
he might say ghosts aren’t real, but never goes near a supposedly haunted site just in case. he’ll ignore videos titled “for you” if he can’t relate, say it must have been a sign only after something goes wrong, and never acts on them even if he knows he has to.
but he can’t deny that he thinks about it throughout the day when it’s something he hopes is true—that maybe he’s tried out a few filters and trends to see if you, his crush of way too long, were his soulmate.
it’s bokuto this time, though, that sends him a sign.
a tweet, really.
an astrology bot on twitter that tweeted 17 minutes ago— “sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.”
AKAASHI!!!
i told you!!!
i turned their post notifications on to see if they’d say anything funny again and LOOK!!!!
keiji watches his friend’s texts come in through as notifications, eyes mostly fixed on the tweet, re-reading it over and over.
it’s a minute before he texts back.
it’s just a bot bokuto
it doesn’t actually mean anything
but bokuto is typing replies in mere seconds,
awwwww come on :((
remember when they were like
be careful virgo they don’t have the best intentions >:(
and IT WAS ABOUT ME ALMOST GETTING SCAMMED!! THEY STOPPED A SCAM!!! O____O
whats the worst thing that could happen???
i mean.. well…at least the worst thing that could happen ISNT u losing a bunch of money T_____T
imagine if u lost hundreds of dollars bc u confessed ;——; scary…
keiji breathes out a laugh.
i won’t lose hundreds of dollars but it’d haunt me for the rest of my life like every other embarrassing thing that’s ever happened and u know that
but thank you
i’ll think about telling them
he’s vaguely aware of bokuto sending another text with his name in all caps before he turns off his phone. it lands somewhere beside him on his comforter, and he takes off his glasses if only to run his hands down his face.
there’s a feeling he gets, akin to both butterflies and a 10 meter drop, when one of these bots decides to let his imagination get away from him.
for a few minutes keiji lets himself think it might be true, and that you think about going on dates with him the same way he does with you.
the latest idea he had was taking you to a new board game cafe that had opened nearby. he had skipped then swiped back up to its ad—a perfect spot for couples looking to spice up a regular cafe date!
he hadn’t closed his curtains properly that night, and the moon lit up his room while he stared at the ceiling. would you be competitive? would you rather play a co-op game?
would you see him sipping on his drink, and ask to have a taste?
he thought about how he might accidentally have some foam above his lip, and how you’d softly laugh before tapping above your own to signal his appearance. he cringed at the possible humiliation of looking silly in front of you, but it went away with the foam you’d gently swipe with your thumb, or maybe even hold his face to kiss away instead. you’d tease him and say it was as sweet as him.
but it’s nonsensical.
as far as keiji knows, whoever runs the account is using a random generator to pick a sign and bullshitting every tweet in their drafts.
it’s almost always only a sentence anyway.
but does that mean it’s a sign that this one was two?
keiji forces himself to stop thinking and takes a deep breath, letting the warmth hit his palms still covering his face. silence washes over him, and he lets his ears focus on the traffic outside, and the sound of the washing machine running a couple of rooms away.
but then he thinks about you. and he scrunches his eyes shut and groans, hands moving to grip his hair before he rolls over onto his stomach.
there’s a thud as his phone hits the ground while he pulls the blanket to cover his head.
sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.
sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.
not just tell them you like them, as if it was a shove to be courageous for once, but they like you, too.
did you like him, too?
was he good enough for you to like him?
did you hate him?
was he going to trust an astrology bot as uninformed about your feelings as he was?
maybe more importantly, was he going to let a bot dictate whether he finally confesses to you after almost a year of pining? a year based on the fact that one day you held the elevator door open for him with a smile and already knew what floor he needed?
(you had noticed him as the new employee, though he didn’t notice you while busy getting used to his job. he made sure to note the fact you got off the floor above him so he could press the button for you next time.)
and keiji doesn’t really believe in signs or the supernatural. he doesn’t want to let himself, because if he does then there’s probably a ghost in that shut-down building on his way to work, he’s gotten himself twenty years of bad luck, and he’s big enough of a coward that the universe decided to take it upon itself to tell him that itself.
but he’s hiding under his blanket when the absurdity of it all hits him—the anxiety and what-ifs and pretending he didn’t know you liked going for lunch a little earlier than him, and that he didn’t plan his break to say hello—and he feels like he’s sixteen again.
and maybe if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to feel other than being rejected, he thinks it’s being sixteen again.
so he jolts up.
and somewhere, in the back of his mind, keiji wonders if the universe jolted up with him, excited to see where this goes.
adrenaline working, he reaches for his glasses and fumbles to put them on with one hand while the other feels the floor to find his phone. the bright screen makes him squint, and the notification of bokuto’s “AKAASHIII :((” welcomes him before anything else.
sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you too.
the tweet seems to be engraving itself into his mind as his shaky fingers hold his phone, and he taps your icon.
he skims the last text you had sent,
thanks keiji!! i’ll see u tomorrow then :) and remember we get off early!
it's a little embarrassing how his chest tightens at you his name and a smiley face. but he goes to type one himself, spending a second to mentally tell the astrology account they’re changing lives, but nothing more or else he thinks he might throw up—
btw if you’re free, did you want to grab food after work? there’s a cafe i wanted to check out with you :)
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cream-and-tea · 20 days ago
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author ask tag!
i was tagged in this a while ago by @writinglittlebeasts and @theskeletonprior and WOW this was so much fun when i l got around to doing it! filled it out for Lay Me Down of course bc everything is temporary but self indulgent horror/fantasy you’ve been drafting since 2020 is FOREVER
What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?
i don’t really think of what i write having lessons in the sense that im trying to “teach” the reader something but the gravespeaker trilogy as a whole does have a pretty major “living in and for the past whether its out of guilt or nostalgia will rot you from the inside change (for better or for worse) is inevitable no one is really the same person at the end” thing going on that probably counts in that direction lol. it’s something that basically all of the characters have to grapple with in different ways and the more cut-and-dry villains (the director, issac belmont, pallas in the first book) i’ve got are all the people who cling most violently/obsessively to a past they can’t ever return to. but of course this all just a distraction from the real central message which is that being 17 temporarily makes you evil <3
What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?
*cracks knuckles* okay so settingwise the Hello From the Hallowoods podcast, the Wildwood books, and Over the Garden Wall have informed much of the vibes (post-post apocalypses and freakyweird magic forests that operate on their own internal logic) but i’ve also spent so much time in the woods (my favourite biome) that i’ve always wanted to write a story set primarily in some + that combined with my love of buildings that are malicious and don’t make any sense informed the rest of it. i also have had the idea for a kinda dual magic system (different people using two different types of magic drawn from the same source) bouncing around my head for a while and the life/death dichotomy is an easy one to reach for and build out when it comes to that (i was also reading tlt for the first time very early into the drafting process which i think inspired me to make the magic a lot grosser and more horror adjacent then it was originally). in general i think post apocalypses based in magic are woefully underwritten for how creative you can get with them and i wanted to make something that has room for truly fantastical crazy stuff while still feeling a least a little familiar. familiar but also Wrong, you know?
this may be tangential but i also wanted to incorporate some shades of like. fairytale logic? into the world especially in the interludes between each part. idk if ive been very successful with doing that in the way i want to yet but it’s definitely informed a lot of the way the story is written and put together
What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?
keeping this to just lmd pallas’s goal is broadly to help the director achieve HER goal of saving the world no matter the cost and on a more personal level to never examine their own thoughts or feelings or the gaping wound of loss and self hatred and bubbling suicidal ideation in the middle of their chest ever at all ever. when agnes enters their life they also gain the goals of first just teaching her bc they’ve been told to as punishment and then keeping her with them (they’re good at this part) and keeping her safe always (they’re pretty bad at this part) ❤️ i guess in this first book im trying to really put myself + the reader in their head and kind of set a baseline of Just How Bad Things Can Get. bookone really is rock bottom for pallas and they spend the entire rest of the trilogy working very very hard to never be that person again so i want people to understand why that is
agnes’s bookone goal is to stay ALIIIIIVE oh my gosh she literally just wants so badly not to die and that informs every single one of her decisions. obviously she also wants to do other stuff (learn more about her magic, find her dad, help nina figure out how she died) but all of that kinda depends, very critically, on her Not Dying for it to happen! unfortunately her method of staying alive involves attaching herself to someone who is the human equivalent of a bird slamming itself into a window over and over and over and over again so now things are all Complicated and she has to worry about keeping pallas safe and happy as well as herself. what i’m trying to Do with her character is a like. hadestown “go ahead and lay the blame/ talk of virtue/ talk of sin/ wouldn’t you have done the same?/ in her shoes?/ in her skin?” black sails “i did what anybody else would have done when confronted with the same impossible circumstances” kind of beat 👍
How many chapters is your story going to have?
as of now it’s currently outlined at 33 plus an epilogue but i have to admit that it’ll probably end up being more bc every chapter ive finished so far has been SO LONG godbless ❤️
Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?
original! and tbh right now i have no idea what im going to do in terms of publishing. everything ive heard about traditional publishing lately sounds Pretty Bad but also i love this thing im making and want it to exist in the world sososo much. maybe i’ll try self publishing or maybe i’ll just get it edited and post it on a website for people to read but i really do have to finish the book for any of that to happen lol. gonna try to focus on that part for now!
Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?
i wish i had more solid stuff re: craft to say here but im still learning and don’t feel very comfortable with the implication that what works for me will automatically work for another person. so in kind of that same vein: embrace all the ambiguity you can. i know especially, ESPECIALLY, if you’ve just started out doing writing it can be really tempting to explain every aspect of your story to make sure your audience will Get It the same way you Get It. but it’s honestly never really going to work bc no two readers will engage with the text the same way and none of them will engage w it the same way as you. i really wish someone had told me sooner that the urge to completely dissect and explore every worldbuilding detail or character motivation or moral question brought up will do your art a lot more harm than good. you’re never going to be able to appeal to everyone and that’s a good thing! sometimes things are more interesting if you just let them live entirely in the background or never say them out loud and trust the readers to put the pieces together (sometimes the pieces they put together are really not correct but at least it shows a willingness to think about the writing). ofc this doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be critical of your own work or listen to feedback but stories don’t actually need to follow a certain structure or specific rules or impart any specific morals or messages. they just need to be interesting and for better (and worse i can admit lol) lots of people have lots of interesting things to say.
i follow so many incredibly talented people it blows my mind but some of ones i want to interview by proxy are @saltwaterbells @encrucijada @carnivalls @catchingbigfish @tragicheirs @izzy246girl and @kudzucataclysm (no pressure obviously!)
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