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kamiversee · 3 months

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 51 || The Resolve

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst if you squint, & heart-tingling fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.5k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE TRUTH, CHOSO deserves to know the truth. After all he’s told you about himself the very least you could do is give him that. He’s earned it hasn’t he?

“Six,” You murmur honestly, your heart rate spiking as the word leaves your lips.

He repeats it as if he didn’t hear you, “Six?”

“Mhm, I’ve slept with six other guys since meeting you,” You explain in full, facing forward and avoiding looking at him.

Choso’s eyes are all over the side of your face and he takes a second, processing what you just said. “A-And that includes Geto… Sukuna, and the other guy you have feelings for, right?”

You nod and things get quiet for a second. The only thing you could hear was the pounding of your heart. He hates you, doesn’t he? He thinks you’re disgusting and is seconds away from kicking you out of his car right?

You should’ve told him earlier, maybe he could’ve helped you. It’s too late now though, the silence told you everything. You basically just told him you’re a wh-

The sound of Choso letting out a relieved sigh is heard, “Thank god.” He mutters, earning the turn of your head.

“T-Thank god?” You whisper, “You’re not… You don’t… Choso, I-“

“I mean, in total, six isn’t terrible is it?” He hums casually, meeting your widened eyes, “If three I already knew about, what’s three more?” He says with a shrug.

You blink, “Choso… You can’t be serious right now?”

He tilts his head innocently, “Why not? I mean we’ve known each other since when, like, September? It’s February now, baby. If you break it down, honestly, aside from me that’s one guy a month, no?”

The way he just responded as if it’s literally nothing makes you feel like a fool for worrying so much, “You’re serious…”

“Plus, we weren’t dating so,” He shrugs.

You sigh, “D-Do you want to know who-“

“Nope, absolutely not.” Choso cuts off, shaking his head instantly.

A slight chuckle leaves you due to his reaction, “Why not?”

“I don’t need any more images in my head.” He hums, “I know who two of those six are so, that’s enough info’.”

“Right…” You murmur, nodding slightly. That went entirely different than you were expecting, “Well uh, your next question, then?”

“That was the main one I think,” Choso sighs, “I can’t imagine there’s anything else I should know that could possibly change the trajectory of our… uhm, situationship?”

“You…” You blink, “You don’t want to know who the other guy I have feelings for is?”

A brow is risen and Choso doesn’t quite understand your offer, “Does it matter who he is?”

“I don’t know…” Your shoulders raise a little.

“I mean,” Choso moves his head and glances away in thought, “I can’t imagine it being someone I know since I only know a handful of people.”

“Uh, can I ask something then?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Does the name…” You pause wondering if you should really ask your question but after a second or two, you get it out, “Does the name Gojo Satoru mean anything to you?”

“Gojo?” Choso echoes, giving you a skeptical look as he smiles a bit, “Gojo Satoru? Uh, didn’t Geto mention him earlier?”

You swallow, “Mhm…”

“Does the name mean anything to me? I dunno, I mean, I know him but-, wait…” His eyes narrow at you, “Baby…”

“Y-Yes?” You squeak out nervously.

Choso tilts his head a little, “Is he…?”

“Is he what?”

He pauses, then he swallows and meets your eyes with an intense gaze, “Do I wanna know?”

“Wanna know what?” You ask for clarification.

“Do I wanna know if that’s my competition?” Choso explains simply.

You’re still not used to such easy and quick answers to your questions, “I d-don’t know, do you?”

He stares for a minute before shaking his head, “Never mind then, I already told you, I don’t care who it is.”

“But-“

“What would knowing who it is change?”

Well, it’d give you an opening to explain the list… But then again, do you want to explain the list?

“Baby,” Choso sighs, “What I don’t know won’t hurt me, right?”

“It might…” You mumble.

His brows furrow, “How?”

That’s a damn good question. If you tell Choso that Gojo’s his competition then proceed to explain how you only slept with all those guys, including Choso himself, because of a list you were blackmailed into completing— how would he react?

No, really think about it. One, Choso might feel like a tool. Even though you know you talked to him that day in the hall because you were genuinely interested in him, he might never feel that way. To any sane human, that interaction will feel set up.

And two, somewhere deep down, you still want to protect Gojo. Why? Because you know there’s more to this blackmailing situation and you can’t tear down his character anymore without knowing the truth, that’s just not in your nature. And hey, you may regret this later when you do learn the truth but, it’s the thought that counts, right?

A man who’s obsessed with you and loves you like Gojo does wouldn’t blackmail you without good reason-

Okay, wait, what good reason is there to blackmail someone? And… What if boredom wasn’t the reason like he said it was… What if this was all done just so that Gojo could somehow trick you into running back to him?

Think about it. He claims the list was done out of boredom but later down the line tells you he loves you. What if he knew Choso hates liars, knew you’d tell Choso the truth after so long, and assumed you and Choso would part, thus leaving you to run back to him?

What if this is some kinda sick game and when the credits roll, the winning option is revealed to be Gojo Satoru? What if-

Choso says your name, “Are you okay?”

“H-Huh?” You breathe out, not knowing the facial expression you hold.

Your eyes were all wide and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.

“What’s wrong?” Choso asks carefully.

You shake your head and snap out of your mind, “Nothing, sorry.”

“After all I’ve told you, you still chose to lie to me?” He teases.

Your heart jumps a bit, “I-I didn’t mean to lie, I just, uhm… W-Well-“

He snorts and you freeze. When you look at Choso you see the way he’s smiling at you for the first time in a while. As quickly as your eyes meet, he turns away and brings his hand over his mouth.

“You… You were messing with me, weren’t you?” You question, narrowing your eyes at the man.

Choso lets out a chuckle, “Kinda. M’sorry, you just got all nervous and it was cute.”

“Well I thought I fucked up again Choso, that’s not funny,” You tell him, frowning.

He laughs, the sound more genuine than ever and making your heart simmer into a state of relaxation. A pout takes over your expression and you couldn’t believe that after all this he still found a way to tease you.

Playfully, you reach over and hit his arm, “Quit laughing, you scared me.”

Choso’s eyes get dramatically wide and he winces, bringing a hand to where you just hit him and sending you a look, “Oh wow, and after I tell you I was abused, you decide to hit me…” He points out, again making your heart sink.

You swallow hard and get nervous all over again, “Shit, s-sorry…”

Choso stares at you for a second and it’s slow how his smile returns, the sight making you realize he was messing with you again.

This time you frown and turn away from him, “Oh my god, stop doing that, we’re supposed to be serious right now.”

He starts snickering, “Baby, c’mon you know that was a little funny.”

“It wasn’t,” You utter seriously, staring out your window and watching water slide down the glass.

The sound of him scoffing is heard before he moves and a hand is placed on your arm. You turn and look down at his fingers wrapping around your arm and watch how he tries to tug at your arms to get you to unfold them.

“I’m sorry, princess,” Choso hums, “C’mere, I was jus’ teasin’ you.”

You pull away from him, “Making jokes about your childhood trauma isn’t funny, Cho.”

“I laughed,” He says, shrugging.

You roll your eyes at him, “Well I didn’t.”

“Yeah and that’s the problem,” He argues back, “I can joke about my trauma. It’s my trauma.”

You sigh, “But-“

“Baby.” He cuts off, tipping his head to the side.

“What?”

Choso’s eyes grow pleading, “Look at me please?”

With a huff, you steadily lift your gaze to his, “Okay, now what?”

“Come here,” He says.

Your brows furrow and you blink, “What do you mean come here?”

“Climb over to me, I wanna hug you.”

You stare at him, “Choso I’m not climbing over-“

“Then I’ll go out in the rain, walk over to your side, and drag you out of that seat.” He says while finally pulling your arms loose. Then, Choso reaches down and unbuckles your seatbelt, “Either you come over here or I come over there.”

You sigh and look at his area, “Choso, there’s not even enough space for me to-“

He moves back into his seat and immediately adjusts his chair to go back as far as it can, providing you more than enough space to be able to sit on the floor and in between his legs if you wanted to.

“I dunno’ why you’re acting like you haven’t done this before,” Choso scoffs, “C’mon, bring your ass over here,” He orders, patting his thigh, “I’m not gonna ask you again.”

You sigh heavily and start moving, shifting your knees into the seat and then carefully climb over the center console and to Choso’s side. His hand goes to your waist to support you as you move and you soon find yourself sliding into his lap.

Choso’s car was rather spacious so it’s not like it was difficult for you to end up in this position with him, hell, you’ve been here plenty of times before.

Once seated comfortably, Choso settles his hands on your waist, holding you lightly as his head tips up to you, “Hi princess.”

You try not to smile at him, “Hi Cho.”

“Hug me,” He directs.

You pout, “You could at least say please…”

“If I was asking, I would’ve. But,” He tilts his head at you, “I wasn’t asking you, I’m telling you.”

You simply stare into those brown eyes of his for a moment, noticing the dullness from earlier has lifted and his pupils are dilated. After which, you begin to lean in slowly and Choso grows impatient, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you to him.

The smile you tried to bite back breaks free onto your face as you move to drape your arms around his neck, burying your face into him and feeling as he squeezes onto you.

Choso lets out a sigh and you feel his entire body relax underneath you as he rests his head back and shuts his eyes, “Now, can we stay like this for a while?”

The crook of his neck smells so good and you were just melting into his hold, “Mhm.”

The two of you nearly molded into one another’s bodies after all the stress that’d been endured. This was so surreal to you— to go from arguing and worrying you may have ruined everything to hugging that same person without being confused in the slightest, god it lifted this weight off your chest.

And as said weight was lifted, another weight took place on your heart. This weight was strong, suffocating even. What did this weight symbolize? Was it trust? Peace? Or… was it love?

Did such a simple yet emotionally present conversation become the breaking point for you? Was this all you needed to acknowledge your feelings? When you realized you felt something for Gojo, it was that time in his car when music was playing and he just looked so damn perfect.

But… With Choso it was different. The physical sensation of falling in love with someone is different for every person. In this case, it’s like the heat emanating from his previously wet and cold body was wrapping around you and smothering you with comfort.

Breathing in his cologne brought nothing but the brightest memories to the forefront of your mind. Choso consumed you with nothing more than a simple hug and he had no idea.

He was completely unaware of how his embrace and faint but gentle thumb swirling over your back made you never want to leave this very moment. Choso didn’t know that you were currently recalling your first phone call with him, remembering how he’d put a smile on your face after Gojo had stripped it from you.

And he’s always been that for you, hasn’t he? In a world where Gojo puts you in a dark room, leaving you frightened, confused, and nervous, Choso is to you the same light he claims you are to him.

Forget Gojo’s claims that you and him are the same. No, you’ve found the person in whom your similarities lay in and that person is none other than Choso Kamo, a man whose only fault with you was falling for you.

And even then, you don’t blame him for doing so because you did too. Your heart is simply swelling right now and you unconsciously started clinging onto his body tighter.

The way, “Choso,” Slips past your lips before you even realize is simply tantalizing to the man beneath you.

He feels as your breath hits the skin of his neck, your warmth giving him chills and making him swallow, “Yes, princess?” He replies.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize sincerely.

He sighs, “Told’ you to stop doing that.” Choso reminds you. Then, his hand slips to caress along your spine, “But, what are you sorry for, baby?”

You weren’t sure just yet. Everything? Nothing? Why is it that you have to apologize for a situation that was never your fault to begin with?

“Earlier,” You come up with, “I think I uh… I should’ve handled things differently.”

He nods a little, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling of your breath against his skin, “Oh, thank you for that. I’m sorry too.”

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong,” You hum, smiling a little.

“Called’ you dense,” Choso recalls and you feel how his body shifts a little, “Yelled at you, caused a scene, y’know, the list kinda’ goes on, babe.”

“Choso, it-,” You pause for a second. Then, you start moving, your hands slipping down to his chest as you push yourself up to sit on his lap comfortably instead of laying on him, “What?”

He raises a brow, “Hm? What? Did I say something wrong?”

“You called me babe.” You point out, grinning.

He chuckles, “It’s no different from baby is it?”

“It is.” You say.

Choso nods, noting that in his head before asking, “Which do you like more?”

“Doesn’t matter, I like anything you call me,” You tell him, smiling a little.

Choso nods slowly and bites back the mischievous smirk that threatened to show, “Anything?”

“Mhm,” You hum with a slight shrug.

“I’ll…” His words fade for a second and he’s so deep in his head as he processes what you just told him, “Yeahh, I’ll keep that in mind.”

You tip your head to the side, “Why’d you say it like that?”

“No reason, princess, ignore me,” Choso dismisses, “Anyways, I was serious about my apology.”

You sigh and move your hand to caress the side of his face, “Right, well, I forgive you, Cho.”

“You’re supposed to say I didn’t do anything wrong,” He jokes, leaning into your touch and pushing his lower lip out to pout.

A scoff leaves you and you slip your fingers down to his jaw before grabbing ahold of his chin, “Mmmh… You yelled at me, I didn’t like that.”

“Your face said otherwise.” Choso points out, glancing off to the side.

“Hm?” Your brows knit together.

“For a second I thought you were turned on,” He says, so clearly joking with you.

You snort, “If I was turned on, it’s not because you were yelling at me.”

“Yeah?” The way the corner of his lips quips up into a sly smirk makes you shift in his lap a little, “Then what was it, baby? I knew there was somethin’.”

“When you were arguing with Suguru,” You recall simply, sliding your thumb up to trace Choso’s lower lip, “I don’t know why but I thought it was hot.”

He raises a brow, “Oh yeah?”

You just barely meet Choso’s eyes and you could feel yourself folding. Good god, why is this man so damn sexy?

“Mhm.” You hum timidly.

He pushes his lips out a little and kisses the tip of your thumb, “Words baby.”

“Yeah,” You utter, your voice almost breathy.

“Atta’ girl,” Choso praises and you swear you should not be getting turned on right now. “Anywho, before you get yourself too worked up, I did want to ask you something else.”

You shake away your incoming horny thoughts and return to seriousness, “Okay… What is it?”

His gaze drops down to your torso and his eyes narrow, “Well, I wanted to ask about you and uh… You and Sukuna.”

For some reason, unlike earlier you’re not as nervous, “Okay…”

Choso’s index finger and his thumb are toying with the fabric of your top as the rest of his fingers rest on your hips, “Did you… Did you enjoy your time with him?” He asks carefully.

Your heart jumps, “Uh, I-“

“You promised to answer honestly,” Choso reminds you, lifting his gaze to yours once more, “I won't ask anything I don’t want the answer to.”

“Alright, well,” You look off to the side, “He was sweet to me after we…”

“After you had sex?” Choso fills in.

You nod, “Mhm. He was surprisingly good with aftercare. A-And I think… I think because of that, yes, I did enjoy my time with him.”

He gazes at you for a while without saying anything and you continue to keep your eyes elsewhere. Choso thinks back and he genuinely doesn’t remember Sukuna being like that. Before his last known girlfriend, after he’d have sex with whichever girl he was with, he’d kick most of them out.

But, there were a few he was different with. Those few Choso got to meet. The most memorable was the last known one, the same one Sukuna knocked out. Choso remembers her to be rather rude to him, calling him gross or disturbing whenever she and him crossed paths but, he recalls the woman having Sukuna wrapped around her finger.

Of course, due to Choso’s experience with Sukuna, he didn’t care to point this out to his older brother— if that woman was playing him, he deserved it.

Even so, it makes Choso wonder what about you made Sukuna treat you so nicely. Hell, it actually worried Choso because since the two attend the same university, Choso knows what it’s like to have his love interest taken from him by his older brother.

“More than…” Choso’s voice is soft, scared even, “More than with me?” He blurts out without thinking.

Your eyes snap onto his and your brows furrow, face shifting into something bothered, “What? Hell no.”

Choso releases a shaky breath and nods, “Oh, okay good.”

You tilt your head, “Choso are you worried I may feel something for him?”

“N-No, I know you said you don’t and I believe you.” Choso stammers, “I-It’s just-“

“He’s repulsive,” You snap, “After everything you’ve told me about him, I could never see that man in the same light.”

“Oh.” He chirps.

“Now, it does confuse me why I experienced something different but,” You shrug, “I don’t care to find out.”

Choso’s eyebrows raise and he stops toying with your shirt, “Really? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m not interested in him.” You say.

Choso smiles a little, “Good…” All his worry fades and he returns to his playfulness, “So uh, who are you interested in, then?”

“You, obviously.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes.

“Is it obvious?” Choso questions.

You frown, “I thought so…”

“Mmmh, I dunno’ baby…” He starts looking away with a skeptical expression.

“I’ve said it before but, I do want you Choso.” You remind the man.

His eyes shoot back over to yours, “Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Have me, then,” Choso says eagerly.

What surprises him the most is your response to that this time around, “Can I?” You ask.

He bats his eyelashes at you, “O-Of course.” The words pour out of his mouth and his heart skips a beat.

“You sure?” You question teasingly with an innocent tilt of your head.

“Fuckin’ positive,” Choso breathes, smiling, “Have all of me, princess.”

He’s so clearly happy about this and that makes you just as happy, “Okay…”

“Okay?” There’s a hint of need in his voice, “What does that mean?”

You give a sheepish shrug, “I don’t know…”

“Baby I can’t do I don’t know.”

“Okay then,” You slide your hands down and rest them on his chest, “Let’s make it official, Choso.”

“M-Make us official?” He asks for clarification.

“Mhm.” You hum.

“So,” He can hardly process what’s happening, the entire conversation feeling like a dream, “You wanna be my girlfriend?”

A pretty smile spreads across your face, “Yes, Choso.”

“Okay,” He whispers, nodding, “O-Okay, I can work with that.”

“Work with that?” Your brows knit, “Cho, what're you talking about-“

“Let’s go on a date,” He offers, “Wait-, no. Can I take you out on a date?”

You blink, “We’ve been on dates already-“

“A real one.” Choso urges. Oh he’s been planning this for months now, hasn’t he?

You’re smiling from ear to ear, “A real date?”

“Yes.” Choso says, “We both dress up all nice, go out to eat or somethin’, y’know, do this properly.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

His hands slide up to your waist and he squeezes a little, “Yes or no baby?”

“Yes,” You start smiling and your heart has never felt this full before, “Yes you can take me out on a date.”

“Thank you,” He sighs, suddenly tugging your body closer to his, “This way I’ll never have a reason to feel insecure.”

Your arms go up and back around his neck, “Yeah?” You whisper.

Choso’s voice lowers and his gaze is so intimate with you, “Mhm, I think that’ll solve every problem we’ve had so far.”

You nod, “I think so too.”

Both of your faces near one another and you’ve never in your life felt more content with a person before. Is this what you’ve been craving for months? Is this freedom? Peace? Bliss?

To have such a tough conversation with your heart spiking multiple times, and feeling worried about certain reactions, all to result in feeling more comfortable in a person is something you never expected. Do you deserve this? Such happiness?

Well, why wouldn’t you? What have you done to yourself to not deserve the man looking at you so lovingly right now?

Did you forget?

The list is over. You’re free to experience this without worrying about hurting anyone. You are finally allowed to love with all your heart instead of only half.

Gojo was right about one thing, he could never give you things Choso can because, at the end of the day, Choso will explain everything to you because he knows what it’s like to be confused and hurt. Choso understands you, he actually loves you.

As for that stupidly beautiful white-haired man? You’re not sure what to think of him anymore but, you think you’re done thinking about him.

Sure, you still have a journal to burn with him but, can’t you indulge yourself in the joy that is loving someone wholeheartedly? Is that not what you deserve after everything you’ve been through?

Your head tilts as your gaze sinks to Choso’s lips. Does this man even realize how wonderful he is to you? Does he know that he’s your savior? Is he aware of how much you adore him? How thankful you are to him?

“Choso,” You utter so carefully, your face nearing his.

“Yes?” He replies, his eyes dropping to your lips as they near him.

“Thank you,” You suddenly say.

He smiles a little, “For what?”

“Everything,” Your answer is vague at first but you’re quick to explain a bit more, “For loving me the way you do, being so open to me, telling me everything even though it was hard for you…”

“Baby that’s not something you have to thank me for,” He hums, letting out an amused scoff, “That’s the bare minimum of what I should be doing for you.”

Something sheer glosses over your eyes but you ignore it, smiling at his words, “But still,” Your voice is light and tainted with emotion, “Thank you for waiting for me.”

“If my reward for waiting is you,” He smiles, “I told you, I’d wait lifetimes.”

“Choso,” You breathe out, holding onto him so very tightly before the words slide out of your mouth, “I love you.”

His chest is against yours so you can feel the way his heart throbs. His breathing picks up in an instant, hitching for only a moment as your words caress his ears so beautifully.

“Y-You…” Choso’s at a loss for words. He’s dreaming, right? “You what?” He asks, his voice shaky as his eyes land on yours.

The sight of joyful and overwhelmed tears in your eyes lets him know just how real this is. Then, you lean in and just barely press your lips into his before repeating yourself, “I love you, Choso.”

Those arms around your waist squeeze you tighter and you don’t miss the way he trembles a bit, his own eyes glossing over, “I love you too, princess.”

Another sweet, soft, and lightweight kiss is shared between you two but as you pull away and your eyes meet all over again, Choso sees the way your pupils have expanded. He wonders how long they’ve been that way, having only seen it at such a size once before.

His brows tense and Choso pulls you to him again, muttering the words into your mouth, “I love you so much.”

You smile briefly against the connection before mumbling right back, “I love you too Cho.”

Everything you could’ve ever asked for was within your grasp now. Peace, freedom, happiness, certainty, hope, love— all of which was felt in the midst of you and Choso kissing so passionately.

This right here… This is what one would describe as a healthy relationship.

Arguments and drama occur but the end result should always be this; peace and understanding.

That’s what he is to you. Choso is your peace, your understanding, and the man you love all in one.

You’ve finally ended the war in your heart. Should someone ever ask you who ended that battle, who healed the plague on you, your answer would remain forever;

Choso Kamo.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

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@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

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A/N: Let's go! First fic of the year. This is a collaboration with @sinswithpleasure that has been stewing for a long time.

A/N2: Huge thanks to @passingnotions for helping look through the fic and giving some feedback.

A/N3: This convo

Me @12:50: I'm slowly making Exclusive a fic wdym sins @12:51: Exclusive is nayeon? Me @12:51: Yes ofc sins @12:52: pui sins @12:52: shes not

Exclusivity.

What a joke. You’ve never thought highly of it but you know this girl does. Well, did, actually.

First, with her boyfriend, the supposed love of her life. That was until she met you. The pure, loving girlfriend succumbed to you and realised her mistake of waiting till marriage, henceforth becoming your exclusive cheating slut.

That was until ten minutes ago.

When you pulled Nayeon into the corner room, you didn’t expect to be interrupted. However, after the man caught sight of her, naked as the day she was born, straddling and making out with you, he wanted in. It was the perfect opportunity to push her slutty instincts further.

“Go on, slut. Fuck him just like you enjoy fucking Daddy.”

No matter how hesitant Nayeon seemed, a rough kiss, a grope of her breast and a bulge pressing against her stomach later, she’s thoroughly convinced and she finds herself riding his cock. She doesn’t know his name, just that there’s another cock to fuck, to stretch her pussy, to fill her with cum.

Nayeon is in another world, seeking sinful pleasure and going against her beliefs of being an exclusive and loyal girlfriend. You brought her into this world, into your world, for you to indulge in, just as she’s savouring the feeling of getting fucked by another stranger. She’s stuck inside but by the look of things—it’s not like she wants to leave.

“Fuck, Daddy! I’m so full. Feels so—mmph!” The man interrupts her by pulling her in for a kiss, his tongue meeting hers eagerly. He grips hard on her waist and bounces her even harder onto his lap, a welcome gesture that causes the girl to hold onto his shoulders and match his strength.

You’re not one to miss out on the fun either. You take a few steps closer to the two until your cock presses onto Nayeon’s back before you slap her ass. She breaks the kiss to cry out loud and looks over her shoulder at you, eyes tearing, not from the pain but from the sheer pleasure she’s experiencing. They’re sending a message to you—‘More, Daddy. Keep spanking your slut.’

Of course you oblige. You would have continued even if she begged you to stop. But you know her. You know Im Nayeon inside out. She would never beg you to stop, only beg for you to give her even more, especially when she melts into the pleasure. Mouth gaped open, she moans out loud without a care for whoever passes by the room. Even when her orgasm hits her, her hips don’t stop moving. In fact, she thrives from it and rides the man faster. Her cum coats the man’s cock and makes a mess of their bodies and the bed underneath.

“Daddy, Daddy, fuck me, fuck my ass! I want all my holes filled!”

“One cock isn’t enough for you, slut, is that right?”

She shakes her head, “I need yours too, I… I need more cocks. Please, Daddy.”

You spit on your tip repeatedly before pressing yourself against the puckered hole. Nayeon freezes in place when you slowly begin to enter her ass. It's been a while since you've taken her like this, having always preferred to fill her pussy with your potent cum. Holding onto her waist, you push yourself into her. She’s gasping with each inch entering her body and it blossoms into a loud moan when you’re hilt deep inside.

Nayeon is shaking, tears streaking down her cheeks, yet she's still wanting more. She holds onto the man's shoulders and shifts back and forth to adjust to the extreme feeling of being filled with two cocks. Her delectable body reacts immediately with her holes tightening around you both. You slide yourself out of her ass and immediately, all you hear from the girl are unhinged cries, "No, no, no! Put it back! Fill me. Fuck me, keep fucking me."

At her request, the action resumes. You start to properly fuck her and the man humps upwards as best he can. He leans into her chest and sucks on her nipples, Nayeon hugging his head close to keep him there. Her body starts to move to your rhythms as she eagerly bounces on the two cocks. It's her first time being double penetrated and she's taking it like a pro.

If she remained exclusive with you, she would have never discovered how much she enjoys taking two cocks at the same time.

If she remained exclusive with her boyfriend, she would have never discovered how much of a slut she can be.

You’ve broken Nayeon over and over and you’re breaking her again. You’re sure of it. Her body repeatedly clenches around you, the stream of moans only pauses for her to catch her breath. Stray strands of hair stick to her sweaty forehead and the tears that flow down her cheeks ruin her makeup. Her image is completely gone but that’s not on her mind now. There’s nothing in her head other than the cock in her cunt, the cock in her ass, and how fucking good it all feels.

“Cum slut,” the man breaks his silence, “cum all over me again, and I’ll cum deep inside you.”

It’s like the word ‘cum’ reignites a flame with Nayeon. She’s slamming herself down hard and grinding her hips as if to push the cocks even deeper inside of her. Rambling non-stop, begging, “Please, please, please! Just fill my holes, I need it, need cum in me—cum. Gonna cum. Cumming, I’m cumming!”

You watch Nayeon crumble and explode as her squirt makes an even larger mess than before. It’s a sight you always love to see: watching her fall and succumb to erotic, sinful pleasure. She’s cursing and crying before becoming incoherent, but even though her words aren’t forming, she’s shooting daggers at the man under her, pleading for him to give her what she wants, what they both want.

With a loud groan, he lets himself loose. Warmth from his hot potent seed fills Nayeon’s pussy and she sighs; her body slows down as she takes it all in. While the other two wind down from their orgasms, you keep the pace up in search of your own. You press a palm onto Nayeon to push both her and the man under her onto the bed, and you take advantage of the position to go faster and harder. Why should you care if you're being too rough on the girl? You're just using her for what she is—a plaything, a slut, a cum dumpster. It's not like she doesn't like it this way, when she's reduced to nothing but a tight hole for you to derive pleasure from.

Nayeon makes out with the man while her ass is being ploughed by you. You hear her moans mix into the rough kiss, see her scalp being grabbed. You’re enjoying the sight. Your creation of this slut being stretched beyond her self-imposed limits time and time again. As if she knows your eyes are on her, she turns to face you while her neck is being planted with light bite marks.

"Daddy, Daddy please," she calls out for you, her dirty lover, in her sweetest voice, "are you going to cum soon? Fill this slut's ass with your cum, Daddy. I know you want to ruin your slut as much as you can."

Your thrusts speed up and you’re rapidly slamming your hips against her butt. Nayeon’s body rocks back and forth to meet yours and she bites her lips before continuing her sick melody.

“Your cock’s the best, Daddy. You’re the best. Dump your load in this greedy, cheating slut. Cum, Daddy, cum.”

She’s practically begging so you stop holding back. You can barely keep it up any longer, and a handful of thrusts later, you shoot your load in Nayeon’s ass as she asked for.

Your body continues to work on autopilot and buries your cum deeper into her hole while you’re still savouring the intense orgasm. Nayeon moans from the last few thrusts and when you finally soften and slip out of her body, a small white stream immediately flows out and stains her reddened skin—one that is quickly plugged by her very own two fingers. When she gets off the man's lap, you catch a glimpse of another stream of white, this time from her pussy, and she stops it with her other hand.

Kneeling on the bed before you with her legs spread, she looks up at you, tongue sticking out to inform you that she’s still hungry. Plastered on her face is a wicked smile as she brings both hands to her mouth and she licks the cum clean.

“Thank you Daddy.” She kisses your chest. “Although, I still have one more hole that needs to be fucked.”

She bends lower to kiss your cock and you gently stroke her hair, but a split second later, you're gripping her scalp and pushing yourself into her mouth. “So what you’re saying is that you need a third cock?”

A muffled moan is all you hear from the girl. You're fucking her face with the same intensity as when you were fucking her ass, dead set on making an even bigger mess of her makeup, while Nayeon is lost in her thoughts, her fantasies now including a fourth person with her.

~~~~~~

Nayeon’s heart pounds to the beat of the music that’s blasting across the whole house. She’s still throbbing under her dress and cum continues to ruin her panties while she finds her boyfriend in the crowd.

“Sorry babe, I saw some old friends and I started talking to them and I lost track of time and—”

“It’s fine, baby. I was having fun with my friends too. Whatever makes you happy.” He kisses her forehead and smiles. “Let me go grab you a drink.”

Just like that, she’s alone again, dancing to the music, waiting. That only lasts for a moment. She catches sight of the man, her third partner, and was it not for the loud bass, the people around her would have heard her moan. He’s with his friends and they all turn to look at her with a devilish smile. Some of them approach her after, and they greet her with a simple whisper, “Slut.”

Nayeon moans.

The next moment, hands skirt up her thighs. She does nothing except remain still, feeling afraid, confused, turned on. These hands brush over her cum-stained panties, and next thing she knows, fingers are pressing against her freshly fucked holes through the ruined fabric. It doesn’t take long before a bold hand slides right under the waistband to touch her directly while her new partners surround her to hide their actions. These new men take what they want from her—hands are all over her body, palming her breasts, yanking her hair, squeezing her ass, rubbing her thighs. Nayeon bites back a moan when she feels two distinctly different men pleasure her—one man rubs her clit, the other shoves his fingers into her cum-filled pussy.

“Oh, fuck, so good—” are the only words Nayeon can come up with. Under the loud music and surrounded by her current partners, no one else hears her moan. She feels her legs grow weak as cum and slick drip out of her hole, and the men around her hold her up as they have their way with her.

“You’re such a whore, you cheating slut.” One of the men touching her voices what the entire group thinks, and the men around her laugh. “I wonder what your wonderful little baby boy would think when he sees this.”

“Wait—! I…where’s my boyf—?!” Nayeon panics. He can’t see her like this!

“Over there, slut, but not like you really care, do you?” The wall of flesh around her parts slightly, and Nayeon scans the room in a rush. Her eyes dart from person to person, and they land on the sight she wishes to see—her boyfriend distracted by someone, and on a second, closer look, she’s locking eyes with you. You flash her a sick smile before you mouth the same dirty word that set her off earlier.

“Cum.”

Just like earlier, the one command breaks her. Her eyes quiver, the pressure quickly hitting its breaking point. Under the lustful touch of men she doesn’t know, Nayeon reaches an explosive high—a high-pitched whine is all she can manage as her orgasm tears through her. The men around her gasp in shock and awe—Nayeon ruins her underwear for all of her partners to watch, and feast on the sight they do, lustful eyes taking in every detail. The girl in their hands nearly collapses as she squirts through her panties, her juices spraying through the cloth and running down her bare legs. The puddle beneath her only grows—none of the men stop fingerfucking her, hell bent on extending the pleasure she enjoys. The whore in their hands doesn’t bother hiding her moans anymore—the pleasure clouds her judgement, and she lets herself go as more and more streams of squirt flow down her legs to the puddle beneath her.

“Please, more, please, I—!”

Nayeon’s broken—she’s begging these unknown men for more pleasure, and she nearly cries when they reject her.

“No can do, baby. Your boyfriend’s waiting.” The men around her laugh at her despair as they begin to leave the scene of their crime, but one of them stays just for a second more to slap her pussy over her ruined, drenched underwear, with a parting remark.

“See you next time, slut. Next time, you’ll be pleasing us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Nayeon’s boyfriend comes back to her, she hurriedly pulls the skirt of her dress back down to hide the evidence. She thanks whoever decided on the dimmer lighting of the party venue—her boyfriend notices nothing about the pool of cum beneath her feet.

“Hey baby, I’m back. Here’s your…”

As her boyfriend speaks, Nayeon finds herself tuning him out in favour of her thoughts.

‘Next time, you’ll be pleasing us.’

Nayeon can’t wait.

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #twice #twice smut #im nayeon #nayeon smut

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sevcasejay1chicago · 5 months

Note

Hi! Would you please write one with Matt/Kelly/Jay x reader where the reader is walking home or something and gets attacked. Roughed up a bit maybe a concussion and like a dislocated shoulder... but she manages to get away before anything too bad happens and just runs on instinct to 51. Kelly and Matt all worried and trying to comfort her but she’s in shock. Sylvie and Violet take care of her and take her to med. Jay meets them there. Maybe with worried brother-in-law Will and a Connor appearance?

Messed with the wrong one- Matt, Kelly, and Jay

Warnings: attack briefly described, vomiting, possibly wrong medical jargon

————————————

You have always been decently independent, which is something that your boys love and hate at the same time. You enjoy doing the grocery shopping and often find yourself walking the short distance to the small neighborhood market around the corner from your shared home. Today was no different.

It was late in the afternoon. The sun was just starting to set and you were happily enjoying watching the beautiful colors change in the sky. Jay was still at work, you having been able to leave early since you finished your paper work, but Jay still had a few files left to tidy up. Your errands could have waited, but you had the time now. So, while Matt, Kelly, and Jay were all still at work, you planned on getting a head start on dinner.

You were two blocks from the market when you felt four hands grab you and drag you into a nearby ally. All your training kicked in and you fought back as hard as you could. All you could think about was getting home to your boys. You kicked and punched, having to drag yourself off the ground twice. The second time you found yourself on the ground, your head also found purchase on a brick wall. You quickly shook it off and stood, laying one guy out and dodging the other, bolting down the ally and running as fast as you could. You didn’t dare look back.

Next thing you know, you are running through the bay doors of 51 and Kelly is snatching you up in his arms. You are violently shaking, blood tricking down your neck and face. You don’t respond when Kelly talks to you, given the fact that you can’t hear him over the ringing in your ears. You notice blurred figures run past you and out of the bay doors, others running out of the firehouse to see what the commotion is all about. Matt comes to your side, but you flinch and scream when he touches you.

“Shhh. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s just Matt.” Kelly whispers, rocking you back and forth in his arms. He isn’t sure you hear him, but you relax as you bury your face into his neck and breath in his familiar scent.

Matt doesn’t attempt to touch you again. Not yet anyways, but he thinks he understands why you screamed now. Your left arm is cradled between you and Kelly protectively, leading Matt to believe that your hurt. “Kelly. She’s hurt pretty bad.” Matt whispers, walking around you slowly to examine you with only his eyes.

Kelly nods. “I know. I know baby. Let’s sit down, yeah?” Kelly says, acknowledging Matt and guiding you to sit in his chair at the squad table.

Brett and Violet are standing at the ambo with the doors open. They are both assessing you from afar until Matt and Kelly can get you focused or give them permission to approach. Brett can tell you are slipping into shock, but she doesn’t want to make things worse, so she waits.

It doesn’t take long after Kelly gets you sitting down. His hands pushing your shoulders to lower you down has you screaming in pain. Matt steps aside and waves the medics over, allowing Kelly to keep a hold on you since he got to you first.

“Y/n? It’s Sylvie Brett. Can you hear me?” Brett asks, crouching down to find your tear filled eyes. When you nod, Brett smiles warmly at you. “Good. Good. Can you tell me what hurts?” Brett asks, not yet laying a hand on you.

You gently run your right hand over your collar bone and then touch the back of your head. When your hand comes away with blood, you start shaking harder and hyperventilating. You didn’t feel that.

“Hey. Hey. Baby. It’s okay.” Kelly soothes, taking your hands in his. He carefully wipes them off with a towel that Violet offers as Brett stands to examine your head wound.

“Pretty deep.” Brett comments. At this point, you have lost most of the color in your face and are sweating pretty heavily. Brett can tell, without checking your vitals, that the shock is fully setting in. “Kelly. Get her loaded up. Violet, run inside and tell Boden what’s going on then drive us to med. Matt, call med and have them set up a trauma room and have x ray and CT ready upon arrival.” Brett instructs, putting her feelings as your friend aside to get you help quickly.

Everyone jumps to their tasks. Kelly scoops you up and apologizes as you cry out in pain from the movement. Brett gets in the ambo and immediately pulls out some pain killers and an Iv tray for you. She hands Kelly a towel to keep pressure on your head wound as she hooks you up. You barely flinch as the Iv is stuck in your hand, but begin to calm slightly as the meds take over.

When you stop whimpering, Brett moves to check your chest. “Y/n. I gotta look, okay? No pressing. I promise. Just gotta make sure that everything is still relatively where it’s suppose to be.” Brett said, not wanting to scare you with the fact that your bone could potentially be out of your skin or at an alarming angle or something.

You nodded, leaning your head further into Kelly’s hold as Matt finally jumped in and the ambo began moving. You groaned as the movement caused nausea to spike as your head swam. “Mmmm.” You ground out, trying to breath through the nausea.

“What’s wrong hunny?” Brett asked, pulling back from looking at your collarbone, which seemed to be in place, to look at your face. You had gone pale once again, your face scrunched up as you shakily brought a hand to your mouth. “Okay. Hang on.” Brett said, pushing Kelly forward to lean over and grab a sick bag for you. Matt immediately took it and held it under your chin so that Brett could keep examining you.

“M-Matt.” You gasped, clutching onto his wrist when he came into view. It was like you were just processing that he was even around at all.

“Shhhh. I’m here baby. Kelly and I are here.” Matt soothed, using his free hand to wipe tears from your face. “We are almost to med. We gotcha now.” Matt murmured, hating to see the pain and fear in your eyes. He wanted nothing more than to find whoever did this to you and lay into them, but you were his first priority.

Matt’s thought process was cut short when you heaved, flying forward with a scream of pain at the end of it. Kelly stood, holding your forehead in one hand and the cloth to the back of your head with his other hand. Matt held the bag around your mouth, holding one of Kelly’s arms to stop from trying to steady you or put his hand in the wrong place and hurt you more instead o comforting you.

“Brett. You gotta do something.” Kelly said, trying not to burst into tears as you threw up, screaming when you had enough air. You were shaking violently again, the pain and the vomiting causing your body to go into overdrive.

“Kelly. I can’t. We are two minutes out. I gave her enough to take the edge off, but they gotta assess her before she gets anything else on board.” Brett tried to reason, wiping tears from her own face as she attached wires to you to check your vitals. “I’m so sorry Y/n. I’m so sorry. We are getting you to med.” Brett whispered, her heart aching as she watched her friend get sick and scream while her other friends desperately tried to help.

As soon as the ambo got to Med, Conner Rhoads, Maggie, and your brother in law, Will Halstead, were pulling open the doors. Will stood slightly away, knowing he couldn’t treat you, but he also couldn’t leave you and the boys until Jay got there. Luckily, Jay had been notified by Will when he found out, so he knew his brother would be there soon.

“What do we got?” Conner asked, helping Brett get the stretcher out of the ambo as Kelly kept up, one hand still holding the cloth to your head while the other held the bag Matt had to secure it under your chin as you gagged.

“Deep head lac and suspected broken collar bone. The vomiting started about 4 minutes ago. GCS 6, 140/97, pulse 120, O2 95 on room air.” Brett spout out. “Iv in the field. Left hand. Administered 5 of Morphine to take the edge off.” Brett said, getting your sheets in her hands.

“Okay.” Conner said, “On my count. 1, 2, 3.” Conner counted, then helped transfer you onto the hospital bed. You screamed out again as they moved you, then proceeded to pass out. “She’s out. Elevate her feet. Tip the bed.” Conner instructed, following your head down as you were moved. He checked your pupils and palpitated your collarbone while you were out. “I can feel some inflammation around her collar bone on the left side. Most likely broken, but still in place. She also has a minor concussion. I’m gonna have them do an xray and CT just to make sure on both.” Conner said, standing and looking at the monitor. “Maggie, put her on 5ML of oxygen. Her stats are dropping some. Probably from the pain. Let’s go ahead with another 15 of morphine and some Zofran too.” Conner said, typing it all up pretty quickly.

You began to stir as Kelly pushed some fly away back. Conner was quick to get to you, repositioning the bed to a more comfortable position and checked your head lac. Your eyes fluttered open just as Conner was stepping back.

“Welcome back.” Connor said with a smile. “Your gonna be okay. We need to run some tests, but I think that you’ll only need a few stitches and all you’ll need is a sling to stabilize that arm while your collar bone heals.” Conner supplied, smiling as he heard Matt, Kelly, and Will sigh in relief.

You nodded, then winced. “Hurts.” You whispered, throat raw from throwing up.

Conner nodded and moved aside for Maggie. “Mags is gonna give you more morphine and some Zofran. Sound good?” Conner asked, searching your face for confirmation. When you you gave a shaky thumbs up, he smiled. “Good, I’ll check back in a bit.” Just as Conner was leaving, Jay skidded to a stop as he came barreling through the door, almost hitting Conner in his haste to get to you.

“Baby girl.” Jay breathed, patting Conner on the shoulder and going around him to get to you. He was sweating, eyes wild as he searched your body for injuries, hands and bottom lip shaking.

“J-Jay.” You immediately sobbed out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You wailed, covering your face with your right hand.

Jay shook his head as he laid a hand on your leg. “Shhh. No baby. No. It’s okay. It’s not your fault sweet girl.” Jay soothed, rubbing your leg over the blanket. “We got them. Voight and Antonio have them. Your safe.” Jay soothed, smiling sadly at you.

“She was so smart and so brave. She ran straight into the bay doors of the fire house.” Kelly praised, kissing your forehead.

“You know your always safe with us.” Matt said, rubbing one of your feet over the blanket.

“I-I didn’t even think. I j-just ran.” You sniffed, wiping your face with the back of your arm. “I just thought a-about you guys. I-I needed to get h-home to you guys.” You murmured, tears streaking down your face again as the horrors of the event began to creep into your head.

“You’ll be home tonight sweet girl. Until then, we are here.” Jay soothed, moving forward as Maggie walked out, kissing your forehead gently. “You did so good Angel.”

“I’m home here with you guys. Wherever you are is home.” You whispered, finally relaxing as the drugs numbed the pain and the nausea. You were exhausted and you knew your boys would keep you safe, so you allowed your eyes to slip closed.

——————

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@starset21

#one chicago #one chicago x reader #matt casey #kelly severide #jay halstead #matt casey x reader #jay halstead x reader #comfort #kelly severide x reader #fluff #emeto fic #emeto tw #tw emeto

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Note

I know you literally only JUST posted that best friends dad Andy Barber one shot but, if you ever decide to write a part two🫣

Maybe reader can be the confident one, she makes the move when they go inside and Andy’s a little bit unsure at first but eventually they get down to the goodddd stufff if you know what I mean😮‍💨

Love your work!! Can’t wait to read more of it🫶🏼

hey, honey, I'm really hoping that the part 2 I wrote is for the correct part 1, haha, it's been a while, and I apologise for taking so long! thank you so much for supporting me.

part 2 of 51 and married

summary - after checking out your best friend's dad in front of them, you head inside, and things become heated.

warning - smut, swearing, cheating, blowjob, creampie, daddy kink.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You knew it was wrong to crush on your best friend’s dad, especially knowing he was married. You had gotten up after checking him out, heading to the bathroom as you felt your heart pounding inside your chest. How could he look so good? How could his wife not see what she had right in front of her? Everyone in town knew she was sneaking around behind his back, seeing worthless men who didn’t live up to Andy Barber.

You look at yourself in the mirror, eyeing the cute bikini set you had put on, hoping to gain the older man’s attention. Your eyes move up and lock in the mirror, checking out your face, and you turn the tap on, splashing your face with some water. You breathe in and out for a second before reaching over to the glossy pink lip gloss you had left in the bathroom. You unscrew it and then apply it across your plump lips, rubbing and popping them together before you build up the courage to at least talk to Andy without becoming a blubbering mess.

You open the door, and as you walk out, you bump into something hard. “Oh!” An arm wraps around you, balancing you. You blink up, locking eyes with Andy. You put on your best seductive smile, noticing how his eyes lock onto how glossy and plump your lips look. “Mr Barber! Were you waiting for me?” You smirk, resting your palm on his chest, noticing his hand hasn’t moved.

Andy blushes, cheeks turning bright pink. He clears his throat when noticing the exposed flesh he’s still touching. Andy quickly moves his arm away, scratching the back of his neck. “N–no, I uh….”

You giggle at how flustered the older man can get. “I’m just teasing, Mr Barber.” Your tongue flicks out, licking your bottom lip, catching Andy’s gaze. “Did you need to go in?” You feel your cunt throb with how close you are to him, with how your body is pressed up against him. He shakes his head, so transfixed as he stares at you. The tension is high, and you feel this is your chance. You should shoot your shot. “I… I noticed something might be broken in there.” You bite your bottom lip, looking up at him with large innocent eyes.

Andy can feel his throat closing as he tries to swallow. Unsure if he should go in with you, of course, he knows there isn’t anything broken. He’s seen the way you look at him, and he’s heard what you’ve said. Andy was extremely flattered that someone so young and gorgeous wanted him, and even though his wife wasn’t faithful, he didn't know if he should go through with it. But the way you looked up at him, feeling you pressed against him, made him want to throw it all away, give into his desires. Andy nearly groans as your lip juts out, pouting up at him, and he decides what the hell. He pushes you gently into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. “Get on your knees.”

Your thighs squeeze together, and a moan nearly slips out at the command. Andy raises a brow, and with that, you drop, feeling giddy inside as you are so close to finally tasting him, feeling him in your mouth, how heavy he’d be on your tongue. Your hands make quick movements to take his hardening cock out, moaning at how large he is. You don’t waste any time and quickly take him in your mouth, licking and sucking, enjoying the sounds he tries to suppress but can’t. You look up at him, feeling slick build between your thighs as you lock eyes. Your hand begins to massage his heavy sacks, and you suck him deeper into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. You moan around him, enjoying the taste that’s on your tongue.

Andy’s head tilts back and rests against the door before quickly looking back down so he doesn’t miss anything. Here he is, in his bathroom with you on your knees, sucking his soul out. Andy had imagined this since his son had introduced you. He stops you, suddenly pulling you up and bending you over the bathroom counter. “I’m sorry, I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside you when I cum.” He grunts, pulling your bikini bottoms aside. His finger touches your glistening cunt causing him to groan before he lines his thick member against your awaiting entrance. Andy’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he slides in, feeling his heart stop as your tight walls squeeze him, making it hard to fit all of him inside you.

Your eyes cross, hands gripping the counter as he stretches you open. You had been dreaming of this since you first met him. Knowing he had to be packing since there was always a prominent bulge in his pants. You could feel his hands gripping your hips, plunging deeper and harder into you, pushing you into the counter. His eyes lock with yours through the mirror, “O–oh, Mr B–Barber….” You let out a low moan, never having felt this much pleasure from a man before.

Andy leans forward, gripping your throat. “That’s not my name, sweetheart.” You can barely think anymore with how deep he is fucking into you. With every thrust, he hits your sweet spot, which causes you to believe you see stars. “What’s my name, honey? C’mon, I know you’re a smart girl, don’t act so dumb now that you have a cock inside of you.”

You whimper, trying desperately to figure out what name he wants you to call him. “D–daddy?” How Andy snaps, and pounds into you tells you, you picked the correct name. His cock throbs wildly as he drives himself faster and deeper into you. Your body bounces against him, and his eyes watch your plump breasts, enjoying how they go up and down. “Daddy, oh, Daddy! You feel so good!” You grip his hand around your throat, feeling your walls clench down on his cock as you cum, your juices squirting out of you and covering him.

“Fuck!” Andy grips you tighter, picking up his pace and pounding into you. “Fuck, fuck! I’m going to cum! Where do you want it?”

“In me! Please!” You beg, pushing your hips back with each thrust. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel his cum spurting out of him, filling you. “So good…” You whine, clenching and unclenching as he continues thrusting until he’s completely empty.

Andy slowly pulls out of you, tucking his softening cock back into his pants before grabbing some toilet paper and cleaning you up and putting your bikini bottoms back into place. You stand, gripping the counter, as your legs feel a bit shaky. You slowly turn and wait for the regret to set in, waiting for Andy to realise what he has done and leave you alone. Andy cups your cheek and softly smiles, “Thank you.” He leans down and presses his lips against yours before the two of you walk out of the bathroom, thinking the coast is clear.

“Uh…” You both turn, eyes wide when they connect with Jacob’s, his hand mid-air with a drink in his hand. His eyes move between you and his father before he shrugs. “Okay.” And with that, he walks back outside, drinking his drink.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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montammil · 2 years

Text

whumper dialogue

1. “Come on. Don’t make me do this again.”

2. “Oh, darling, don’t scream. You’ll ruin your pretty voice!”

3. “Go ahead, tell them. No one will believe you. They all think you’re crazy, so it’s your word over mine.”

4. “This is for your own good, Whumpee. I’m just trying to help, after all!”

5. “I’ve waited so long... You have no idea how much I wanted this.”

6. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

7. “Don’t worry. I’m almost done.”

8. “You’re not going anywhere until you learn some damn respect. Get over here. Now.”

9. “This is your last warning. Next time, you’re dead.”

10. “What did you say? No, no, repeat that for me, dear, I didn’t hear you. Tell me what you said.”

11. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll help you forget. Then we can start over again.”

12. “Oh, Whumpee, I’m not leaving this world alone. You’re coming with me.”

13. “I’m not done yet.”

14. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

15. “Just relax. It’ll be over before you know it. And like I said, you probably won't feel it anyway.”

16. “Oh, don’t cry, pet, you’ll make yourself sick! I don’t have to calm you down myself, do I?”

17. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

18. “Now, sleep. Sleep and forget.”

19. “I told you I’d come back.”

20. “I’ve got a little surprise for you, pet.”

21. “You’ll have to stay down here. It’s for your own good.”

22. “You’re still my favorite.”

23. “I didn’t think you’d be such a challenge. That’s okay, just makes things more fun for me.”

24. “You’ve done such a great job today. Good pet.”

25. “I bet you loved that.”

26. “You think you’re so special.”

27. “You’re not afraid, are you?”

28. “You should have just stayed silent.”

29. “Go ahead, scream. It’s just music to my ears.”

30. “Honestly, you should be grateful you’re still alive, darling. If anyone else said that to me, I’d snap their neck in an instant.”

31. “What are you going to do? Kill me. Go ahead. I’ll even give you my knife! I know you won’t, though.”

32. “Interesting, isn’t it? That you don’t remember anything? Well, let me fix that for you.”

33. “You and me. Forever.”

34. “Please, Whumpee, don’t look at me like that. You’re almost making me feel bad for you. Almost.”

35. “Oh, you poor thing.”

36. “You should have ran when you had the chance.”

37. “Think of how much better life will be for you now. A free roof over your head, free food, free clothes? You should be a little more thankful, honestly.”

38. “You won’t be needing this anymore.”

39. “You remind me of someone...”

40. “Maybe you need to be taught some manners.”

41. “If I weren’t so in love with you, I’d kill you.”

42. “You’ve had your fun, now it’s my turn.”

43. “Have a nice sleep, dear.”

44. “Don’t ever try that again.”

45. “I’m not going to waste any more of my time on you.”

46. “I still remember the first time I saw you.”

47. “You’ll never leave my side again.”

48. “I like those little noises you make when you’re scared.”

49. “Oh, you didn’t argue this time! That’s progress.”

50. “You know, even when you look like you’re dead, you’re still beautiful.”

51. “Why did you run? You know how much I love you. You know how much I need you.”

52. “Okay, now you’re just asking for it.”

53. “Now? Now you just sit here and bleed out.”

54. “I know you won’t remember this, but I thought I’d tell you, anyway.”

55. “I can’t hear you, Whumpee~ Mind repeating that for me?”

56. “I’ll give you to the count of three.”

57. “Just think, maybe this will all be over soon!”

58. “You’ve ruined everything.”

59. “You’re making me do this.”

60. “Oh, darling, please be still. This won’t take long.”

61. “The only reason you’re still alive is because of me. Remember that.”

62. “You can’t scream. Not here.”

63. “Do yourself a favor and give up. You can’t escape.”

64. “I told you to shut your mouth.”

65. “You should have seen this coming.”

66. “Be quiet. You don’t want to wake the others, do you?”

67. “The fun has just begun!”

68. “Just because you aren’t beautiful anymore, doesn’t mean you can’t be useful.”

69. “Now, clean yourself up. I’m not doing it for you.”

70. “Look how pretty you are... Red’s really your color.”

71. “Now that you found your anger... it’s time to play.”

72. “You should have thought about that before you started screaming.”

73. “I didn’t break you, did I?”

74. “Either you apologize this instant, or you’ll be seeing nothing but the basement walls for the next week.”

75. “I’m disappointed in you, Whumpee.”

76. “Shh, don’t struggle. It’ll be easier this way.”

77. “You want to sleep? Beg for it, then.”

78. “I never tire looking at you, darling.”

79. “Now, why’d you go and do that? Look at you, now you’re hurt! And not by me this time...”

80. “I suppose I could always just toss you aside like yesterday’s trash.”

81. “Don’t be scared, Whumpee! You’re back with me now, why would you be scared?”

82. “Oh, my dear. Don’t tell me you think you’re the first person I’ve done this to.”

83. “Careful now, don’t tense up. It’ll just hurt more.”

84. “You’re not the first, and you definitely won’t be the last.”

85. “Let’s say you did escape. What would you even tell them?”

86. “I want to kill you slowly, but even that might be too kind for you.”

87. “Next time, I won’t knock you out first.”

88. “No one will ever know.”

89. “I can tell you’re not really asleep. Your breathing is different.”

90. “Don’t be sad, little one. I’m putting you out of your misery just like you wanted! You should be smiling!”

91. “Now you’ve really gone too far.”

92. “Do you see how completely useless you are now?”

93. “Sit up straight.”

94. “You have a visitor, Whumpee!”

95. “You better hope you’re worth it.”

96. “I’m going to take you apart slowly, and then... I’ll put you back together again.”

97. “Let’s see... where to start, where to start...”

98. “My friends will take great care of you.”

99. “I heard that you like pain. I won’t disappoint you.”

100. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret, darling...”

#whump #whump dialogue #whump prompts #tw violence #tw murder #murder tw #violence tw #whump tw #tw whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #creepy/intimate whumper #whumpblr #tw intimate whumper #tw threatening #whump writing #whumper dialogue #whumper x whumpee

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path777 · 7 months

Text

다른 생각 말고 (don’t think of anything else): from fantasy - iiso. as i said nipple piercing jeonghan needy whimpering desperate mewling all of that okay strap in 1.2k

“thank you for your hard work!” jeonghan is glowing as always, a professional smile hung on his lips. but it’s late, he’s tired, and you can tell. this variety show has just wrapped up taping, and your eyes follow him as he bows to the staff he passes by, ducking into the dressing rooms to get ready to leave.

you stand outside, waiting. the evening is cold but you welcome the chill—it’s a nice difference from the stuffy, crowded warmth inside.

[윤정한]

9:38 PM jeonghan-ssi

9:38 PM the car is outside whenever you’re ready

9:51 PM it’s cold ㅠ

thirteen minutes isn’t a lot, all things considered. but knowing jeonghan…he’s usually in a hurry to go home, you think. so what was taking him so long? you check your phone one last time, just to make sure—still nothing. you apologize quickly to the staff driving, walking inside at a speed which can only be called brisk, making a beeline for the dressing room that he had been using.

thirteen minutes wasn’t a lot—you should’ve waited longer. you should’ve come in sooner. or maybe you should’ve knocked. either way, you catch him putting on his jacket over a thin, white undershirt; as his…something, you swallow, unsure where to put your gaze. as his manager, you ask, “are those piercings?”

you walk towards him, platform boots thumping loud on the floor with every step. you grab the front of his jacket, tugging it open. just as you thought—on either side of the faint outline of his nipples, two little bumps.

“yoon jeonghan. what-” you start, his full name slipping out of your mouth, though you had really only been working for him for a couple of months. regardless you shouldn’t anyway, whether it be six months for six years, boundaries are important, and so are manners—

you notice that he’s been strangely silent. looking up at him finally, you sense something different about him; you decide to hold off on the piercing question. “what’s wrong?”

“hm?” he says, staring at you. he doesn’t seem to be looking though; it’s just a place to land his eyes. you feel overly aware of the rise and fall of his chest, virtually silent but crashingly loud to your ears, and his hands, all of a sudden, on your hips. “nothing.”

jeonghan doesn’t notice. he gets like this when he’s tired, a little softer, and more suggestible. easy might be another word for it. you try not to pay too much attention to his hands, hot over your clothed skin. “when did you get them done?” you ask, tilting your head in inspection. you don’t recall seeing them before, but then again, you can’t say you’ve paid much attention to his chest. that would change after today, of course. “also, what are you still doing here? don’t you want to go home? how about let’s talk about this in the car,” you turn away and start to head for the door, the tension in the air too heavy for you to breathe comfortably.

jeonghan grabs your wrist; you turn back.

“like them?”

“sorry?”

his hand tightens around your wrist, just barely. “do you like them—the piercings,” he says. he drops his hand to his side, and for a second you breathe out a sigh of relief. but it’s too soon; he takes the hem of his shirt and pulls it upwards over his head.

“jeonghan-ssi, what are you doing—” you say, your voice jumping an octave without meaning to. the shirt is in his hand, at his side. the first thing you notice is that he’s pale; the second thing you notice is that he’s thin. your gaze trails down, from the lines of his collarbones down to the angles of his hipbones, disappearing into his pants. finally, your eyes land on what he wanted to show you in the first place.

his nipples are pale, like the rest of him, the areolas faintly pink, and the center just slightly darker. on either side of them, two simple, plain silver studs. how new are these, you find yourself thinking, without meaning to. how new are these and can i put my mouth around them.

“yes,” he breathes out, and shit, i didn’t mean to say that out loud, but before you know it your hands are wrapped around his upper arms, leaning in to wrap your lips around a nipple. the metal is cold on your tongue, and experimentally you swirl it around with your tongue, feeling it slide down and against the wet muscle. jeonghan makes a noise then, somewhere between a moan and a whimper. it makes you pull away from his chest. his face is flushed, uncharacteristically so, and was his hair always this mussed? he looks down at his chest and so do you, cheeks heating at the sight of his nipple, shiny with your spit.

“don’t stop,” he says, voice raspy, laden with desperation, “please.”

jeonghan looks so easy it borders on lewdness. the metal of his piercings glint around his nipples, the cold air making them harden into tight little buds. you bring your lips to his other nipple, licking at it with the tip of your tongue. kitten licks, small and teasing. “please,” he whispers again, and he sounds so needy that you can’t help but scrape your teeth against the skin, just lightly. the moan that escapes him is unlike anything you’ve heard from him so far, a whimpering and mewling little thing that has your head spinning, even though you were the one giving, not taking.

“you have to go home,” you say, vision swirling. “you have an early schedule tomorrow.” what a hypocrite, you think to yourself as jeonghan wordlessly places a hand at the back of your head, pressing your face back towards his chest, meeting no resistance.

inconspicuously, or so he thinks, he starts to palm at his cock through the fabric of his pants. “let me,” you say, turning him so that he faces himself in the mirror. tugging his pants off, your hand reaches around him to wrap around his cock, grabbing him at the base and jerking him off with the precum that he had been leaking. “look at yourself in the mirror.” your other hand comes up to his chest, pinching hard at a nipple. jeonghan cries out then, chest jolting under your touch. he’s practically naked now, with his pants and underwear pooled around his ankles, his shirt forgotten on the back of some chair. his hair smells like vanilla and you press your nose into the nape of his neck, your hand wrapping even tighter around his cock. he’s leaking almost excessively onto your hand, the sticky substance hot on your skin. you’re so close to him that you can hear every noise that he’s making, every noise he’s trying to hold back and every noise he lets escape.

it’s only when you hear a small sniffle that you look up at him; his eyes are watery, rims brimming with unfallen tears. “i’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know what for. “i’m sorry. you look beautiful.” your hand slows around his cock, and your other hand comes to a rest on his waist, instead. the tear falls, landing on his cheek delicately. “no, i’m sorry, it’s just—it’s just a lot,” he exhales shakily, sniffing again. “keep—please touch me.” he says, turning his head to look at you. “please.”

your hand starts moving again, but this time it’s tender, almost, every touch like a confession falling from your lips. you are confessing—you are repenting. you savour every sensation, the slide of his wet skin against yours, his moans shaky and gasping near your ear.

“come for me,” your thumb brushes over the head of his cock, “watch yourself come for me.” you say after a pause, “jeonghan-ssi.” he spills, all of a sudden, over your hand. you watch as he throws his head back, eyes closing as he moans, soft and quiet, lips falling open with the sound.

#yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan x reader smut #jeonghan x reader smut #svt x reader smut #my mind is a mysterious place…#UNedited UNproofread we move

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aranarumei · 1 month

Text

something there.

hello shiramiya fans. got inspired by ch 51 to write something. it is under the cut but you can also read it on ao3

—

On some level, Shirahama’s always been aware that he’s weak-willed. But this—this feels like something else. “Tashiro,” he says. “I'm going to slack off.”

“For the last time, I'm not—what?” Tashiro cuts his complaint short, turning to face Shirahama with a searching look.

Whatever this is, it sucks, that’s for sure. He grits his teeth. “I'm just—I have to dip out for a second.”

“Huh,” Tashiro says, the word suffused with both carelessness and judgement. His eyes flicker around their surroundings, and he adds, “Okay. It's not too busy, anyways… did you ask—”

“I already asked Karasubara.”

“Then what are you still doing here?”

It’s a good question, but it’s not one that has an answer. It’s just—it probably isn’t anything serious, but Miyano hadn’t looked great, and what if it is serious? Even if his boyfriend’s taking care of him, it’ll be good for Miyano’s classmates to know how he’s doing. And that way he—they—won't worry.

“I don't know,” he says, and because he’s vindictive: “Why didn't you compete in the crossdressing contest this year? You seemed so pumped about it last time.”

Tashiro's hands stray to his hair, and he twirls a loose strand around his fingers. It vaguely strikes Shirahama that it’s not dissimilar to one of the sprites of the sporty basketball girl he’d romanced last week. “I didn't want to shave my leg hair,” he says, even though last year Miyano hadn’t shown a single inch of his leg.

Tashiro’s just non-committal like that, Shirahama supposes—even now, he likes to act as if his ping pong captaincy just “happened” like an accident. He's spent three long-suffering years on the basketball team—he knows the apathy Tashiro unintentionally or purposefully projects is deceptive.

“What are you waiting for?” Tashiro asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Go.”

It’s enough of a push, and crucially: it feels like enough of an excuse.

—

There are too many people inside this school. Shirahama can hear Tashiro's voice in his head still, the strange wry twist that he'd clearly picked up from someone else, paired with his evergreen bluntness—what did you think was going to happen at a cultural festival?

I wasn't thinking, he replies in his head, aware that it's a horribly strange conversation to be having, and the kind of shameless, setup-to-punchline answer he'd never give in real life. But when he'd thought about the decorations, he'd mostly thought about having something that would look nice, feel nice, and have their class at ease. He hadn't been thinking about all the other people that would be milling about.

If they're staring at him, he certainly isn't going to chance making eye contact. So he ducks his head and soldiers on towards the relatively isolated nurse’s office, and in a sudden fit of bravery pauses for only a moment before opening the door. That courage immediately leaves him when the door opens with a sharp creak and he startles, hold almost slipping from the doorknob, but it's the pathetic thought that counts. Or something.

As he's about to slip in and shut the door behind him, a rustle sounds from one of the beds. The breath leaves Shirahama's chest, and he watches as Miyano's boyfriend—Sasaki, that was his name—emerges from the curtains, hair wild in a way that reads more like “bedhead” than “artfully tousled”—not that he'd say it was ever artful, but he's got no place to be critiquing Miyano's boyfriend's hairstyle…

—and speaking of. Sasaki’s staring at him. He sure is tall—for a moment Shirahama wonders why he'd never played basketball, but it’s the kind of wonder that’s paired with utter relief at the nonexistent situation. Then he feels very strange about that thought until Sasaki, with the sedate aura of someone who’s just woken up, blinks at him as if to communicate something.

Shirahama stares back, caught like a deer in headlights.

“Close it quietly,” Sasaki says. Shirahama finally re-registers that his hand is hanging slack on the doorknob. “He's sleeping.” His voice is low, smooth, and deliberately softened to the point that Shirahama has to strain to hear it.

He wavers in the still-open entrance; his legs don't let him run away. The door closes with a soft click, but it may as well be a marching drum.

“I just… came to check in on him,” Shirahama says, too many beats late, careful to pitch his voice just above a whisper. He's not sure he manages. It's the “too many people” thing again, only concentrated—somehow, he’s the one out-of-place in a school he's attended for two and a half years.

Sasaki nods. “Thanks for looking out.”

“Oh… no problem.” He represses the urge to throw up his hands in a sign of “I come in peace,” but he doesn’t know what else to do with them, so they hang limply and indecisively in front of him. Miyano's boyfriend is—it would be rude to say that he's scary, because he's seen the way he acts around Miyano, who doesn't seem to think he’s anything close to intimidating, but he's also Miyano's boyfriend, a term that feels—he shouldn't say it's strange. It shouldn't be any stranger than Kuresawa's girlfriend—bad example, because Kuresawa’s so weird, and Shirahama’s suddenly, overwhelmingly relieved that Miyano doesn’t make hour-long professions of his love—but the thought rests uncomfortably in his head. It's like there's an itch he doesn't know how to scratch.

Sasaki takes the time to inspect him now, squinting at him with a look that’s not akin to judgement but does feel like some kind of thing, and Shirahama would be embarrassed about his inarticulacy if he wasn't already beyond embarrassed with himself. Though he's always hated the feeling of assessment, he does his best to not squirm under Sasaki’s gaze. What Sasaki's likely remembering is the strange hanger-on to Tashiro's high-five run and jump, but even if that's banal in comparison to, say, the date-spying—which is mortifying in retrospect and has given him an eternal respect towards Hanzawa, though he’ll never vocalize this to anyone for fear of the result—something about recognition is just sour.

“Ah,” Sasaki finally says, snapping a cord of tension in Shirahama's shoulders. “You're on the basketball team.”

A strange flush scatters across his neck. “You remembered that?” His voice cracks at the last word, and he tacks on a whispered “Sorry!” that Sasaki accepts without fanfare.

A light shrug. “Just happened to.”

Shirahama throws his memory back to the interaction. He remembers the stray basketball, for sure, but on review something clicks into place. “…Kagiura, right?” His voice settles. “You were looking for him.”

At that, Sasaki falls silent.

Shirahama almost offers to call up Kagiura, but they're not particularly close, and Sasaki's expression doesn't really read as “excited” or “pleased.” In fact it's kind of reading as “ticked off,” which doesn't bode well, because he's pretty sure that if he got into a fight with Miyano's boyfriend, he'd lose. Embarrassingly.

Then, delivered in an unsettlingly flat voice: “I don't know him.”

“What?”

“Kagiura,” Sasaki clarifies, who indeed does say his teammate's name like he's never said those syllables in that order before. Come to think of it, he had called Kagiura by some kind of nickname, hadn't he? “I just… knew of him. Was just curious,” he mumbles.

“He does always get a bunch of confessions on Valentine's day,” Shirahama grumbles on instinct. Then he realizes there's a lot of terrible implications to that routine complaint and backtracks. “Not that—”

“He's popular?”

He feels, suddenly—not actually suddenly but an ebbing and flowing always—wrong-footed. “…Yeah?” Huh, Miyano's boyfriend is kind of a weird guy. Whether this thought puts Sasaki squarely in the space of “not scary” is debatable. But it is some kind of comfort.

There’s a rustling sound by the bed. The room falls silent in an instant, and Shirahama finds that he’s locked eyes with Sasaki. Something like meaning almost passes through there, but before Miyano's boyfriend can say something about needing him to be silent, or his unnecessary check-in, or his unwelcome presence, Shirahama tumbles out excuses in rush of whispers. “I’ve still got to help out with the festival—just thought I’d check—I’m sure you have it handled—I’m going to—I'll go.”

He stumbles out of the office, thankful he hadn’t even taken two steps past the entrance, and closes the door as quietly as he can. His mouth is so dry he’s not sure any of those words he'd said were audible. It’s entirely likely he stood there, gaping and sputtering like a dying fish, before running away.

No one's there to look at his expression and tell him. Shirahama's glad for it and the fact that there's no mirrors in the hallway—the last person he wants to look at is himself.

#shiramiya #shirahama kyouji #sasaki to miyano #sasaki shuumei #kiri.txt #my writing #harusono

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countrymusiclover · 19 days

Text

9 - Life Changing Moments

Part 10

Dr. Redheaded Neighbor

Tag list - send an ask to be added @annieradcliff @watermeezer @zaidatorcuatomorgado @kmc1989

Maxon made a noise looking up at Will with a tilt of his head. “What do you think that conversation is going to be about, Max.” Will just sat down with him laying at his feet simply wanting to wait until she got back.

Sylvie and I exited the ED going to sit down on one of the benches outside the building so we could talk. I wasn’t sure what she needed to talk to me about or how she found me here at the hospital in the first place. “So, I have to ask how the hell did you find me here exactly?”

“I looked you up on the internet. Facebook showed some pictures with you and Dr. Halstead. I searched through his page and found out that he worked here. The chance of you being here still at the same town was a happy coincidence.” She explained and I nodded somehow not finding that creepy given the smile she had given me.

I clicked my tongue intertwining my hands together in my lap. “Okay, so – what exactly did you need to talk to me about privately?”

“I have been trying to rack my brain about why I couldn’t get you out of my head and it finally came to me. It’s because you clearly aren’t ready to be done helping people.”

I eyed my right leg wishing that I didn’t have the brace on all the time. “Maybe I am. I mean I had to be discharged from Army after I got injured. I don’t remember the last mission I only know I came home with this on me probably for the rest of my life.”

“Look I have been thinking about offering you a chance to come work at Firehouse 51 or at least consider looking into helping out there.” The female firefighter sends me a smile again.

Running a hand through my loose hair I sighed thinking about what she was offering. “Wow. That’s - that’s a huge offer. I mean I don’t have any training to be a Firefighter or Paramedic like you guys.”

“You’re right but you’d be able to learn on the job and take courses if you really want to look into what I’ve mentioned here.”

I asked her meeting her blue eyes. “Is this even allowed with your boss?”

“If you truly are considering saying yes, I will speak with him as soon as possible.” She reached forward touching my knee.

Since coming home I was just focusing on trying to adjust getting back to civilian lifestyle and getting spend more time with my best friend again. “I’ll let you know. Uh here – I can give you my phone number.” Taking out my phone I handed it to her showing my phone number.

“Thanks. Just call me, Mallory.” She put her number in my phone handing me my phone back.

The hospital sliding doors opened causing me and the firefighter to turn our heads and attention towards them. I saw Maxon coming towards me before I saw Will slowly running over to us. “Raegan is awake and asking for you. If you want to see her now.”

“Oh my gosh. Ms. Brett, I will certainly let you know my answer later.” Jumping up onto my feet Maxon bolted to the doors with me and Will following him inside the hospital doors. I entered the room she was supposed to be in seeing her sitting somewhat upright in her bed, smiling when I rushed to her bedside. “Rae, I was so worried about you. I – I thought something really bad was going to happen.”

She blew a raspberry at me. “I’m too stubborn to leave you alone. Especially when you haven’t fessed up and told your Redhead how you feel.”

“You know the thought of you dying is more important than my romantic life.” I sent her a glare.

She crossed her arms over her chest huffing at me. “Okay but you know that I’m right. Halstead from what I can tell isn’t very good about hiding his feelings. So, I see no issue with getting it over with and telling him that you have feelings for him too.”

“But what if he- “

She held her up left hand with an iv sticking in her arm. “I will take this out which will set off all the alarms and go find himself. Do you really want me to be the one to tell him what you won’t.”

Holding up my hands up in surrender in front of me I begged her. “Don’t you dare do anything like that. I’ll tell him soon okay.”

“You better.” Raegan sent me a warning look.

Pushing opened the apartment door I tossed my keys on the countertop the second I walked inside Will’s apartment while carrying in a pizza box that we had picked up on the way home from the hospital. Maxon jumped up onto the couch and he laid down in a curled-up position. Will came in shortly after sitting his bag by the door. “Oh, what a day. I gotta say I love being an ED doc but it sure wores me out.”

“At least now I finally kept up on my promise on bringing you this.” Spinning the pizza box around on the kitchen counter I drew the lid open and the familiar comforting smell filled the air.

He shrugged his jacket off ditching it onto the back side of the couch coming over in two long strides until his nose was right above the pizza box. “Ohh I’ve been needing this all day.”

“I gotta admit it is pretty good pizza.” I picked up a bite thinking back to my old home state. “I do remember the drive to Dominos wasn’t too bad either.”

Will set his piece of pizza down. “How dare you say bad things about me pizza..”

“I can’t help I’m from Indiana, Will.” I throw my hands up staring at him.

He glared at me across the kitchen island. “Dang country girl.”

“City slicker.” I did my best to hold a straight and serious face when I was looking at him but I only lasted a few more seconds. I bent my head down in my arms laughing my head off.

Will mirrored my laughter shaking his head. “Who would’ve thought that we would work together like this. Living together, me, you and Maxon.”

“We do make a pretty good trio.” Picking up my slice of pizza I take out a few bites before picking up another.

Will moved over to the couch sitting down with some pieces of pizza on his plate. “Do you ever think we’d still work together this great as a couple?”

“Wha – what did you say?” I nearly choked on the bite of pizza I had in my mouth.

Will’s gaze focused on me standing by the kitchen island sitting the plate down on the coffee table in front of him. I’ve been thinking for a while that I should have told you this much sooner. And so now I’m done waiting.” He rose from the furniture striding over to me until I held my hands up before he can say anything more.

“Will, hang on a second. I need to say something to you too. I – I just have been so terrified of what you would say.”

He rummaged around in his pocket holding up a random coin. “Let’s let luck decide this then. Heads, we say our feelings one at a time. Tails, we say them at the same time. And there’s no backing out.” Will tossed the coin up off his thumb and it landed down in his palm.

“What does it say?” I nervously gripped the ends of my tea shirt in my fingers nervous for his answer.

“Tails.”

I gulped. “Okay. 3 – 2 – 1.”

Will and I paused before uttering out at the same time. “I have feelings for you.”

Covering my mouth with my hands I felt some tears welling in my eyes. “I thought that you wouldn’t – um.” I didn’t know what to say considering I assumed he wouldn’t feel the same way since we’d been friends for over six years now.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He asked me.

I started to respond to him but he cut me off. “I was afraid that our relationship would be ruined and that you wouldn’t feel the same way- “

He crashed his lip’s down onto mine where I gasped taking a second to process what was happening. I had imagined what it would be like to kiss him but now that it was happening I thought I was dreaming. I leaned up slightly on my toes kissing him back and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Mal, Mallory, listen to me okay.” He drew back holding my face in his hands, smiling through happy tears. “Our relationship could never be ruined by you being honest with me. Cause I have always had feelings for you. Always have, always will.”

I grinned up at him gripping the fabric of his shirt. “So this is for real?”

“Yes, Mallory. This is real.” He sent me that familiar cheeky grin. “Now what would you say to me taking you out on our first official date tomorrow night?’

Leaning up on my toes I began the next kiss we shared. “I’d love that.” Will moved his hands around my waist holding me against his chest until we broke away knowing the pizza was getting cold.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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bcbdrums · 5 months

Text

Cadenza

A Soul Eater fanfic. Read on: AO3 | FFn

Fourth in a series of 31 prompt-based one-shots. Prompts from this list.

---------

A/N: Soul needs to bond with Maka's dad. Just saying. Anime-verse, post-canon. My headcanon is that the room with the piano and pictures on the wall we see in episodes 1 and 51 is actually an art gallery somewhere in the academy. 4. “Hold fast to dreams for when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow.” --Langston Hughes

Sunlight poured warm and bright through the gallery's picture windows like a curtain, bathing the room in gold. Just like any dawn, it served to bring a sense of freshness and rebirth to the surroundings and a feeling of hope for better things.

It should have been inspiring.

It was not.

Soul stared at the dust that floated through the yellow rays as he sat in the one part of the room untouched by the sun's warmth, the piano next to the wall still in shadow.

He looked down at the keys, pristine and unmarred even by fingerprints — a testament to the academy's custodial staff, he supposed. But, he also rarely heard of the instrument being played.

He set his hands in a familiar pattern, letting them rest upon the smooth ivory, but he didn't play. Countless songs were at his fingertips, but his soul denied each of them. Whatever it was he was yearning for that had brought him back to the rarely-used room, he couldn't identify it to bring it out.

And so he sat unsatisfied, letting memories of the past float through his mind like the dust in the sun and simply staring down at familiar black and white, a small comfort in and of itself even if it couldn't resolve whatever had his soul in such a twist.

"I’d expected to hear something by now."

Soul startled upright at the unexpected intrusion.

“D-Death Scythe!” he exclaimed, the name coming out less respectful and more accusatory, which only added to his sudden panic.

Outside of the collective safety of the classroom and without his meister, Lord Death’s second in command suddenly seemed very intimidating. Not that it stopped Soul's cocky tongue.

“How did you know I was down here!?”

“I saw you heading this way. And the art gallery isn’t exactly a popular student hangout,” was the man's soft reply.

Soul slowly lowered himself back down on the piano bench, seeking that small familiarity for protection as the tall man slowly approached, hands in his pockets and a gentle smile on his face.

“I was looking forward to listening. Your playing is practically legendary,” the death weapon continued, stopping just behind the hinge of the grand piano’s lid and setting a hand on the smooth, black surface.

“Huh?” Soul replied, his initial panic being replaced by confusion. “You must be thinking of Kilik, or someone else.”

“I think Maka talked for at least an hour about you and the piece you played after you two became partners,” Death Scythe continued. He paused and glanced toward the windows, the light still streaming in and quickly increasing the ambient temperature of the room. Or maybe that was just Soul’s nerves getting the better of him. “That’s a night I’ll never forget.”

'Neither will I,' Soul thought, but he wasn’t about to ask the man what had caused his eyes to grow misty and stolen the smile from his face. But before he could fumble out another response, the red-haired man had turned back toward him.

“So how about it? What can you play?”

Put on the spot, Soul wasn’t sure if he should show off, flee, or say something insubordinate. But Death Scythe’s comment about Maka talking about his playing for over an hour had caused the roller coaster of his thoughts to flatline.

She truly thought that much of it? Granted, she was wholly uneducated and slightly tone deaf when it came to serious music, but what he had chosen to play for her—in fact, what had been designed to put her off—had captivated her that much?

Death Scythe was still waiting, his expression calm but his eyes encouraging. Soul thought for another moment and then adjusted the placement of his fingers over the keys. 'Show off,' was what his racing mind kept repeating, and his fingers began flying over the keys in long-practiced patterns, filling the room with boisterous rhythms and jolly harmonies.

He didn't look up, focused on accuracy for something he hadn't touched in years, but he could peripherally see the expression on the man's face. He was impressed, and Soul smirked as he arrived at a cadence where he could stop. He wasn't about to play an entire sonata on the spot, no matter who the audience was.

When Soul finally looked up in victorious satisfaction, the death weapon lifted his hands and offered soft but affirming applause.

"You're very good," was the man's comment after several honoring claps. The words were genuine, Soul knew, but he suddenly had the feeling of being exposed—the way he used to feel during a lesson when he hadn't practiced beforehand and knew his teacher would be able to tell. Sure enough, the proof came out in Death Scythe's next words. "But that isn't what you played for Maka."

Soul wanted to snip at the man for his intrusion and for his assumptions. And he knew it would take the slightest thing—either an insult to his musical intelligence, or, it was past ten in the morning so shouldn't he be at the bar already?—to send the red-haired man spluttering angrily away. But, he found his mouth had gone dry.

As the tall man stepped around the instrument to hover over his shoulder Soul suddenly realized he wasn't seeing him as a death weapon, but as Maka's father. A man who despite flaws that could be listed from sunup to sundown (in his meister's opinion, at least) was still skilled, intelligent, and ultimately someone whose approval mattered to Soul.

"I used to play guitar, you know," Death Scythe said, reaching down to set a hand on the keys. Soul leaned away from the man's proximity and looked up at his slightly furrowed brow, where it was clear he was trying to recall something.

"What kind?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Electric. Les Paul."

Soul's brow rose.

"It's still in my closet somewhere. Haven't touched it since...I was younger than you," the man continued, pursing his lips with a small hum of nostalgia.

The younger weapon glanced between the man's face and his hand still resting on the keys not far from where Soul's had been, but he'd tucked his hands into his lap when the man came near.

"Why'd you stop playing?" he asked, unable to help himself.

Death Scythe shrugged lightly. "Got busy. Chasing souls, chasing after my meister, chasing..."

He trailed off, and Soul mentally finished with the likely demeaning comment of 'tail,' but his curiosity had been piqued now and to offend Maka's dad wouldn't get him any real answers as to why the man had followed him down to the gallery.

Before he could think of something else to say, a single chord rang through the room. It was slowly followed by another, and another. There was no added rhythm, each chord lasting a slow four counts, but it was clear almost immediately that it wasn't that type of piece as Death Scythe played. The progression was complex, having started in happy major but moving quickly to minor and drawing the tension out, approaching resolution but taking surprising turn after turn away from it. Soul glanced away from where he was memorizing the chords to the man's face, his eyes only half-watching what he was doing as they had glazed over, clearly recalling something. And whatever was on his mind, Soul knew it wasn't music theory.

"So you play piano too?" Soul asked, though he could tell from the uncertainty of the man's movements despite the lack of errors that this wasn't an instrument he had much experience with.

Death Scythe didn't reply immediately, hesitating as he seemed to struggle to recall something, and then brought his own impromptu performance to a conclusion with the expected major chord. But everything that had come before it had left the sunlit air with a feeling of melancholy.

The man finally straightened up and took a step away and back out of Soul's personal space, for which the teen was grateful.

"No, just when I would write... To hear the song with a different sound, to see if it was really going where I wanted it to."

Soul's chest was burning with curiosity now, despite the fact that this was Maka's hated, cheating father standing next to him. Had he written the haunting song he'd just played? What was its meaning? How many other songs had he written? And was that guitar in his closet still in fair condition?

Death Scythe moved back to where he'd stood before by the piano lid's hinge, in the position a teacher might occupy. Soul felt the familiar unease of being scrutinized again, but he didn't shrink from it. His expression was open now, watching the older, more experienced scythe and waiting. What for though, he wasn't sure.

"We never had to fight the kishin itself in my day," Death Scythe began, "but we certainly had our share of defining battles."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Soul couldn't help but quip. He doubted the older weapon had ever dealt with anything quite as painful or terrifying as the blast of the kishin's weapon.

Of course, Soul recalled then with a flash of guilt...the man had lived through exactly that.

"Entire covens of witches. Rogue wizards. Immortal monsters who couldn't hardly sustain damage let alone die," Death Scythe reminisced, glancing out the window as his expression fell to stone.

Soul bit the inside of his cheek. Despite having faced and ultimately helping Maka win against the kishin, there was something too real and ominous in what Death Scythe had said. There was still madness and evil roaming the world, and he couldn't forget his duty just because they'd been victorious against one extremely large threat.

Soul began to mentally pack away the twisting confusion in his chest that had led him to the gallery that morning. His own problems were nothing in comparison to his responsibilities to Maka, or to Lord Death and the rest of the world.

"She doesn't love you because you're close to becoming a death weapon, you know."

Soul's thoughts were arrested again, every one of them floating away like the dust in the sunbeams as his throat constricted.

'What?'

Death Scythe was looking at him again, the hardness to his eyes having softened but not to the place it was when the man had entered the gallery. He didn't speak again, simply staring at him out of the wisdom of experience that was reflected in the clear, teal depths of his eyes, suddenly extremely visible despite the curtain of red hair that was designed to hide them.

When Soul remembered to breathe, he leapt to insubordination as a defense. Because talking about Maka in that way wasn't something Soul ever wanted to do with the older scythe.

"Psht, and what would you know about love?" he retorted cockily.

Death Scythe's expression only softened further, and Soul balled his sweaty hands under the piano in unease. No one ever looked at him the way the man was now, except perhaps Maka, and it was unsettling. As if he could somehow see through him even lacking soul perception, see his thoughts and insecurities and everything in his life that had his wavelength pulsing erratically as he wondered who he was and who he was supposed to be.

Death Scythe shifted to lean against the piano and inhaled slowly. His gaze on Soul clarified in seriousness. His voice remained low and soft as he answered, as it had with every word he'd spoken.

"I know that in the lives we lead as weapons, we're incomplete without it. We belong in the hands of a meister, and that relationship in itself is part of what defines us. Trying to make it on our own, or out of sync with them...it won't work. We'll end up losing ourselves if we don't...allow ourselves to accept love. And give it in return. Because the trust that comes in love is the foundation of a successful weapon-meister partnership."

Soul ran over the words in his mind, processed them... He knew they were true. But rebellion still won out.

"And I'll say it again... What would you know about it?"

Soul didn't like how Death Scythe had seen through him so clearly, to the questions that had haunted him ever since the kishin's defeat as life had slowly begun returning to normal. But, what was normal anymore? His soul had been stirring ever since that day with questions he couldn't even put to words, but hearing one of them spelled out so clearly was a bit more than the young scythe could handle in the moment.

Just who was he to Maka now, after everything?

Death Scythe's response to the dig against him was to hum softly in acknowledgement, his gaze lowering to the floor. But the small, thoughtful smile he wore remained.

He turned back to the window, and Soul noticed the brilliance was fading from the sun's rays. He couldn't see the dust floating in the air as clearly anymore.

"You're still very young."

"Hey—"

"And I don't want you to make any of the mistakes that I made."

This gave Soul pause. He watched in silence as the death weapon's smile began to fade to seriousness again, and he wondered... This was Maka's father. A victim of tabloid fodder for over a decade, an unashamed alcoholic and flirt, an utter failure in domestic life...and the death scythe of death scythes. The way he'd always viewed the man, through Maka's eyes, suddenly merged with the man who had taken that first nearly-fatal blow from the kishin, standing bravely with Lord Death between madness and the rest of the world.

Spirit Albarn turned from the window, piercing Soul with his clear, teal gaze once more. Crimson stared back, open and almost childlike in the hope Soul suddenly found he needed.

"Don't let what you think you need to be...become so important that you lose your soul."

The younger scythe was pierced by the words as well as the gaze, again struck by how the man he'd never wanted to respect had seen straight through him. Curiosity brimmed at the back of his mind, about what could have happened to lead the man astray from the foundation of love he had so aptly named as vital to a weapon's relationship to their meister. But he ignored it, swallowing slowly as he let his grip on nothing fade, his gaze falling to his hands as he spoke.

"What if...I'm not sure I even have the key to my soul anymore?"

Death Scythe's expression fought then between impassivity and a grimace, the man glancing down as the latter slowly won, and Soul had the overwhelming impression of seeing Maka's father once again and not the death weapon.

"Then...you look to your meister. And h— She'll...know where to find it. If you trust her."

The older man pursed his lips and seemed to force away whatever discomfort he felt and then looked back at the teen with knowing, pressing eyes. Soul felt his mouth had gone dry again as he attempted to process what in essence was permission and in fact encouragement from the man to love his daughter.

"So. Soul Eater..."

The red-haired man nodded toward the piano, his soft, parental smile returning as he straightened up from where he'd leaned against the instrument.

Soul looked down. He brought his hands back to the keys and moved them into another pattern, anticipating. They were still sweating, but not for fear of being judged on a mistake.

It all started with one terrifying chord. And after taking a deep breath, he let it resound through the room—through his fingers, through the floor, feeling the vibrations through his bones until the power faded. And then, a single repeated note that increased in speed until it finally climbed.

He let everything fade. The warmth and radiance of the sunlight around him, the gnawing in his chest of something yearned for and unsatisfied, and Maka's father watching him less than two feet away. He let himself slip into the music, ignoring the constraints of tempo and rhythm as he alternated between precision and recklessness, simply playing as his soul demanded.

And through playing... Not for his family, not for aid in battle, and not even for Maka... He felt the beginnings of peace; a settling of his wavelength into the same frequencies vibrating out of the strings as he played for him for the first time in perhaps years.

And that, he finally realized, was what was missing. Ever since the crisis of the kishin's escape, he had spent every part of himself on being what everyone else and especially Maka needed. It was in his nature as a weapon. But as he felt the confusion in his heart lessen, he was forced to admit that Death Scythe was right.

He couldn't continue being everything for Maka, and everyone else, if it all ended with giving every part of himself away. And with all he had learned in his short years at the academy, he realized he was ready at last to find himself again.

These thoughts sent more peace through his wavelength as he let the song almost play him, responding to it as much as he was directing it—the push and pull of the tempo, the power and gentleness of the dynamics, everything in his soul pouring out through his fingers in the way he had always desired but felt he couldn't permit himself to express.

As he let the newfound freedom bring rest to his soul, he suddenly understood just how right Death Scythe was. The passion he felt to be what his meister needed was no longer a pressure, nor carried fear of failure. It was light within him, and he knew...if he continued this pursuit of his own soul—the reason he'd joined the academy to begin with—then he could truly be the weapon partner she deserved.

The revelations washed over Soul as he played the final chord of the song with cathartic release. And he didn't want it to be over. He wanted to keep playing, to let his wavelength spill out in the way he'd first learned before he'd ever discovered his weapon blood, and relearn himself in the way that he never wanted anyone to know was so precious to him. But before he did that, he knew reluctantly that a thank you was in order. He lifted his gaze from the keys.

"Hey—"

Soul blinked at an empty room. Death Scythe was gone, and the suns rays had shifted, lighting up the ivory in an almost golden aura and leaving him feeling empowered, his soul practically vibrating in readiness.

"Hmm," he huffed lightly as one corner of his mouth curled upward just enough to reveal a toothy grin. He shifted his hands on the keys and began another song, his soul rising with the music like the sun.

#soul eater #soul eater fanfiction #soul evans #spirit albarn #death scythe #soul eater evans #spirit #cold nights warm hearts #fanfiction #if you squint there's a Stein mention

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distant-velleity · 3 months

Text

(un)sweet dreams

Summary: Once Malleus Overblots, Yu doesn't exactly dream. Silver does. Word count: 3.5k+ Warnings: my unbeta'd writing A/N: So!!! Yesterday I played through Book 7 Part 3 since that dropped on TWST EN, and it inspired me~ In regards to Yu's story, I haven't actually considered Book 7 a whole lot, so I felt like writing this would be fun and solidify his plotline some more at least before his own Overblot. Haha. Um. This is meant to replace the MC-centric chapters of 7-40 through 7-51; where it ends is roughly where in-game 7-52 starts. Please enjoy my Silver and Yu acquaintance content bc I sure don't write enough of it (<- it has an entire relationship section on Yu's wiki) <3 Also, contains reference to this oneshot.

In the distance, thunder—the herald of dignity and danger—rumbled. Of an unimaginably deep weight, it rolled through the clouds and over the seas.

…

In the drearily elegant throne room, static zipped through the air, the buildup to a temper at the end of its wick.

“It’s incredible! 16 years, and not a trace of her! Are you sure you searched everywhere?”

“Uhhh, we searched mountains, forests, houses… and all the cradles.”

“FOOLS! Search for a maid of 16. Go… and do not fail me.”

…

In the depths of the forest, pretty voices rose, unaware of the unwanted guest listening in.

“You’re already betrothed! To Prince Philip, dear!”

“But that’s impossible. How could I marry a prince? I’d have to be…”

“...A princess.”

“And you are, dear!”

…

In the winding tower, a spindle glistened in the light.

“Touch the spindle. Touch it, I say.”

As delicate as a petal, a hand was drawn to the spindle.

“You poor, simple fools, thinking you could defeat me! ME! The mistress of all evil!”

…

To call it ‘waking up’ would be a lovely description, but an ultimately unearned one. To Yu, it feels more like dragging his consciousness out of a haze after fainting; his thoughts are blurred around the edges and his memories blurrier still.

He blinks once, twice, and slowly raises himself to sit up. Beneath his hands, placed to support the dead weight of his body, the ground ripples outwards in the image of water.

Yu stares at it.

He feels no dampness through his clothes, no chill, so the reasonable assumption is that the ground isn’t any sort of liquid; and yet it behaves like one. There’s certainly a surface beneath him, but how real is it? As far as he can see, the world is purely black, with no horizon line in sight.

Strange.

…Strange, but not unfamiliar. After all, Yu has been here a number of times before.

(More vividly than any other memory, he recalls Riddle crushed by a flurry of books; Leona discarded from an unending chessboard. Azul left beached without the safety of his pot; Jamil weighed into submission with chains. Vil smothered with distorted veils; Idia dragged deeper and deeper into the darkness.

All these incidents which should have caused splashes, yet—each time—caused the ground to do little more than ripple.)

Only, this time, there’s no one but Yu here. He’s all alone in the expansive darkness for some unknown reason.

Why?

As he racks his brain for the answer, a screen pops up before him. And then another, and then another after that…

[ CURRENT DEBUFF — Fae Maleficence: USER’s physical body is deeply asleep and frozen in time. ]

[ MAIN MISSION — “Perpetuation by Briar Thorns” Continued. ]

[ NEW OBJECTIVE: Figure out your situation. ]

[ Setting tracker to target object… ]

[ USER is 500m away from exit. ]

Yu sits there, allowing the messages to sink in. For a moment, he’d forgotten that this would always be the work of the System.

He shakes his head to rid himself of any lingering grogginess and carefully brings himself to his feet. In the distance, as promised, is the only other source of light aside from his locket—a glowing white rectangle vaguely resembling a door, waiting upright as it does every time he is sent to this strange mindscape.

Slowly, limbs fatigued, Yu walks over to the exit as the ground ripples beneath his feet. Floating beside him, the tracker’s number of meters steadily decreases.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the light.

[ USER is 0m away from exit. ]

What lies beyond the door is totally uncertain; Yu would like to hold onto the hope that he'll simply wake up as per usual, but something tells him that won’t be the case. Still, there’s nowhere else for him to go. Not unless he enjoys the loneliness of a solitary forever—and even if so, he has the nagging feeling that people need him.

Inhale, exhale.

There really is no getting around it. Yu steps out of the darkness and into the light of the exit.

…

Weightlessness strikes him before his senses are muted.

[ Entering new dream. ]

“A new dream?”

Like an epiphany, just as he’s being transported from one mindscape to another, Yu remembers the disaster that occurred before his bout of unconsciousness. The lounge had been filled with fire, then embraced with thorns, and most importantly—

[ USER has entered Spectating Mode. ]

“—Yue’er—!”

Yu blinks and stops mid-shout, regaining his senses in the middle of a fairytale-like landscape.

Frozen in an eternal sunrise, the sleepy forest of his surroundings is painted in a warm pink wash. Even the towering trees and steep, rising cliffs appear rosy under the light. A little ways from the stone path beneath Yu’s feet is a babbling creek, crystal-clear and so brilliantly lavender under the dawn sky that it glimmers.

However, it too is halted in its tracks by the absence of time—so, rather than follow its futile downstream flow, Yu’s gaze traces the creek’s edge until he finally looks at the quaint cottage before him.

It’s odd; just looking at it makes him feel at home. The thatched roof, the brick base and chimney, the curved shuttered windows, the waterwheel—perhaps it’s because the sight seems right out of a storybook that it feels so comforting.

Yu takes a step forward. So does someone else, right through him.

Barely able to stifle his scream in time, Yu stumbles backwards, watching as none other than Silver proceeds on the stone path. Unaware of the wide eyes trained on his back, he continues on ahead with a relaxed posture. At this moment, something he said during an interview comes to mind—

…‘I lived deep in a Briar Valley forest before coming to this school’...

“Is this what he meant?” wonders Yu aloud, hesitantly following Silver to the cottage. When it becomes apparent that he truly cannot be perceived, he breaks into a jog to outpace the sophomore’s naturally longer strides. “It’s… definitely not what I imagined…”

Although Silver’s resting stern look is unparalleled, there’s something blissful about it that Yu just can’t quite place. The look of someone returning home, ready to rest and bask in familiar comfort after a long day.

“But…” Yu hesitates as he realizes something, the two of them approaching the door. “This is just a dream, isn’t it? What are you expecting to see when you enter that house?”

Obviously, he receives no answer. It doesn’t stop him from holding his breath as Silver opens the door.

Consequently, Yu realizes a second earlier that there is nothing but a despairingly hollow void on the inside of the cottage.

“Silver, wait!” he shouts to no avail.

Silver naturally steps inside, only for his foot to find no purchase and no floor. His eyes widen helplessly as he stumbles forward, plummeting into the darkness. Yu scrambles to stand on the edge of the doorstep while clinging to either side of the door frame with both hands.

When he looks down into the void after Silver, he sees just a flash of that iridescent hair of his before it’s gone.

“Dammit—!”

[ Ending Spectating Mode. Termination in 3… 2… 1… ]

“—what?”

Suddenly, Yu’s grip slackens against his will, and everything starts disappearing around him. As the step beneath his feet and the frame underneath his hands fade from existence, he finds himself weightless again but intimately aware that he’s falling this time.

His descent is a terrifyingly long one. Various scenes and flashes of light zip by, until he passes two halves of a stone wall that shut like gates and meld together above him. The light disappears. Gravity chooses then to reorient itself entirely—meaning Yu is suspended in air for a moment before crashing down face-first onto the cold, hard stone of what is now the ground. The force knocks the air right out of his lungs, sending him into a fit of violent hacking and coughing as he tries to regain it.

“What just—” He gasps, balling his hands into weak fists. Although he’s still on the floor, he shakily props his upper body up on his elbows. “What just—happened—”

“Yu? You’re in this dream, too?”

Under the dim lighting, Yu looks up to see Silver on the floor nearby, appearing equally disoriented but at least more conscious than he was before. Strangely, a glowing specter of what seems to be a bird flutters around him for a moment, but it’s gone as soon as it appears.

“Oh, Silver!” Yu exclaims, relieved. He hurries to sit up properly. “You remember what’s going on now, right?”

Silver visibly hesitates, considering something, and then nods slowly. “Yes. Not only that, but I also remembered—a few months ago I had a foreboding dream with Lord Malleus in it, almost identical to this one.” He swivels his head to look around the room they’re in. “...it seems that we’ve fallen into a different room this time.”

Yu takes the time to also observe their surroundings. Dark stone walls, eaten away by age; hardly lit by a few sparse torches, flickering with an ominously familiar green fire.

Had Silver experienced that same thing in his initial dream? Stepping into the cottage only to be betrayed and sent into the abyss? If so, then…

“It must be the same castle,” Silver murmurs to himself without any prompting. “In that case, perhaps I can still find…”

He trails off, brows furrowing, and meets Yu’s eyes.

“What is it?” asks Yu.

“I’m sorry to ask this of you,” says Silver with earnest remorse, “but would you mind accompanying me in exploring this castle? There is something from last time that I feel I need to find, and it may assist in understanding our current situation.”

“Well…” Regardless of any possible misgivings about this situation, Yu mostly trusts Silver. Mostly. But, better to be around a knight with a comforting presence than anyone else in a dreary place like this. “...okay. Why not?”

“There are some risks. I don’t know what to expect once we exit…” Silver trails off, realizing it was just a figure of speech, and stands up. His movements quickly lose their dizzy sluggishness. Once he’s on his feet, he offers a hand to help Yu up, which is gratefully taken.

“Let’s go, then.”

…

The interior of the castle is ancient and almost abandoned, its walls a powerfully deep slate grey. There are only a few torches here and there to light the way, forming small spheres of cold light amidst the shadows. The arched ceilings are high up, causing the sound of their footsteps to echo back at them. Even the air is stiff and chilly, masking any signs of life.

“Just like Diasomnia,” Silver whispers.

The comparison is eerily accurate. Yu thinks about the lounge, where their physical bodies should still be, and a shiver runs down his spine.

“It… feels like we’re getting involved in something we shouldn’t,” he murmurs. “Do you feel that?”

“…yes,” admits Silver, a hand resting on his baton for reassurance. His eyes narrow slightly. “But at the same time, that’s a sign that we’re on the right path… I hope.”

He continues down the dim hallway with cautious confidence, leaving Yu quietly in awe of his ability to push forward despite his doubts.

It takes what feels like several minutes of walking before the bird specter from earlier flits by, catching non-existent wind beneath its wings and zipping ahead of them.

Silver’s eyes light up, stopping mid-walk. “That was—!”

“Wait, you saw it, too?”

“Yes. It normally marks the owner of a dream.” Before Yu can ask how he knows that, Silver continues. “Since this is my dream… I think it’s leading us to where we need to be. We should follow it.”

Again with that need to find and need to be—it only stirs skepticism in Yu, especially considering what happened the last time Silver simply followed the logic of the dream, but at the same time his hands are tied. “If that’s what you want, then. We don’t have a lot of time to deliberate.”

There’s only a curt dip of Silver’s chin in acknowledgement before he starts running after the bird, forcing Yu to sprint in order to keep up with him. It takes them down another long hallway before slipping into the entry arch of a winding staircase. Silver doesn’t even hesitate before racing up the stairs.

“Silver, hold on a—seriously?!”

Yu can do nothing but chase after them.

They seem to be ascending a tower, given the excessive length of the circular staircase that extends upwards for what may as well be an eternity. Yu wouldn’t find it difficult to believe if it were the tallest in the whole castle.

Finally, the bird gives one last weak flutter of its wings before dissipating. At that point, they’ve already reached the top, stopping right before the entrance to the room that crowns the tower.

The door shudders and creaks, swinging open on its weak hinges with barely any force; as if inviting them inside.

With Yu close behind, Silver enters, only to abruptly freeze in his tracks.

“This is it,” murmurs Silver breathlessly, sounding absolutely certain.

His gaze is trained on the sight right before him: the room empty aside from a sole spinning wheel, placed in front of floor-to-ceiling frosted windows. Its spindle is so sharp that, even with the limited illumination from the torches, it gleams in the light. Uncovered as it is, the intrusive temptation to touch it is strong even to Yu.

Outside, lightning flashes and thunder roars, momentarily turning the spinning wheel into a menacing light-lined silhouette. The rain only intensifies after, drumming against the window in violent torrents.

Silver suddenly takes off one of his gloves and steps towards the spinning wheel.

“Uh… Silver?”

Yu finds it difficult to hide his concern, and even more so when there comes no indication that he was heard at all. Silver continues to walk at a slow but resolute pace and reaches for the spindle with his ungloved hand. It’s perhaps the exact opposite of what he should reasonably be doing.

( ‘Touch the spindle.’ )

Oh. Yu’s eyes widen.

“Silver—Silver!” Yu raises his voice a notch, going so far as to grab Silver by the arm; only to be easily shrugged off. It’s surprisingly rude coming from the normally-composed boy, but it doesn’t seem intentional. “What are you doing?”

He receives no response—Silver continues on as if in a trance, eyes wide in an uncharacteristically morbid fascination. It’s not unlike watching a trainwreck in slow motion, the way his pale finger draws closer and closer to the spindle while Yu is helpless to stop him again.

Closer, and closer…

( ‘Touch it, I say.’ )

“Silver, don’t touch that—”

The spindle breaks skin.

Instead of blood, something dark and inky comes out of Silver’s finger. It is scarily reminiscent of blot. Silver stares at it as if he has no recollection of what he just did to himself.

“SILVER!”

Yu operates purely on instinct, clamping his hands around Silver’s to stop the ‘bleeding.’ He examines the other boy’s expression, shifting from confused to dawning horror. “Are you okay? Do you feel weird?”

“N…no,” Silver forces out, furrowing his brows. His skin has gone pale, sweat beading on his face, although it could just be from the shock of snapping out of his stupor. “I don’t think so—”

Around them, the room shakes violently; he and Yu both stumble as a result. An inky darkness seeps in from the cracks in the walls, rapidly covering the floor and filling the air.

“I—Is that blot?” Yu wonders in a terrified sort of way, stepping back as it approaches. He shoots a quick glance at Silver—being in a dream together is bizarre enough, but being alone in a dream with a possible Overblotter…!

Thankfully, Silver doesn’t seem to be going mad. No blot drips from his forehead or anything of the sort, but his lips set into a thin, stressed line. “It isn’t. We still have to get out of here, though. Hold onto me, tightly!”

He offers his arm, and Yu doesn’t think twice before grabbing onto it as if his life depends on the strength of his grip. In a way, it does. Then rationality clears his mind for a moment; he blinks and opens his mouth to ask what purpose this serves.

Silver, eyes narrowed with concentration, is just a second faster to speak.

“Those I’ve met and will someday…”

Sparkles of magic coalesce around them, little flashes of birds and flowers, as Silver recites his incantation. Yu draws in a sharp breath, surprised—this must be his signature spell.

“… 「 Meet in a Dream. 」”

The world fades as they warp away.

…

Yu hadn’t realized he was squeezing his eyes shut on instinct, but he opens them once he feels ‘wind’ ruffling his hair. He immediately regrets it.

The scenery around them is gorgeous, no doubt—a warm sky packed flush with cotton candy clouds, kite-like birds cutting a path through the air. It is, however, impossible to appreciate when one is plummeting directly towards the ground and there is less ‘wind’ as it is just your body obeying the laws of physics.

“Why are we so high up?!” Yu screams. For maybe the third time now, his deathly fear of heights is being weaponized against him.

Silver’s jaw is clenched tightly, focused on the rapidly-approaching ground. “I’m losing control… Hold on tight!”

He then grabs and holds Yu close to him, reassuring but also incredibly tight to the point of squeezing.

“Crap!” Yu gasps, the air being forced out of his lungs. Silver is strong, just as sturdy as the Leeches, but Yu’s hands still try to find purchase on the Diasomnia uniform’s various belts and armor sections.

“Sorry, but please bear with me!” Silver insists. “If we’re separated here—well, let’s just say I don’t think I’ll be able to find you again…!”

Yu promptly shuts his mouth, even though he still holds extreme misgivings towards their decreasing altitude. It’s then that they break through the clouds, and their surroundings change in an instant.

Gone is the dreamy sky—they find themselves falling towards another bleak-looking castle, raised among rocky mountains and an endless pit filled with briar thorns. The sky and landscape alike are a somber greenish-grey. Diasomnia, Yu’s mind provides helpfully.

Regardless, the walkway leading up to the dorm grows less and less distant.

Silver uses one arm to pull Yu even closer to him, muscles straining with the effort, as he releases the other to grab his magical pen. He draws it from its holster and yells at the top of his lungs, “WINDS!”

They are showered in sparkles before the world becomes blurry, spinning as their bodies reorient to be straight up. Yu vaguely registers his feet gently touching the ground and the arm around him loosening, but he still opts to lean on the infinitely more solid Silver.

“Are you okay?”

“Ughhh…” Yu closes his eyes, hoping his dizziness will die down. “Sorry. I don’t think I can stand on my own.”

“Take your time. I admit that spell was a bit abrupt.” Silver exhales in relief. “At least we’re both unharmed.”

Yu frowns. He stands up straight as soon as he can, dusting off his clothes. “I know I am for sure. How’s your finger?”

At some point, Silver must have somehow gotten his glove replaced. He peels it off to reveal his index finger back to perfectly normal. There is no scarring, no dried blood, nothing—just unmarred skin.

Some of the tension leaves Yu’s shoulders. “Thank God.” He looks away as Silver puts his glove back on. “So… from one castle to another, huh? This is a scarily accurate recreation of Diasomnia.”

“Right… it’s just a dream,” Silver remarks. “If nothing else, it’s proof that we managed to shake off the darkness…” He closes his eyes. “Good. That’s good.”

“Darkness? You mean that black stuff coming after us?” asks Yu. Just thinking about it again fills him with a sense of dread.

Silver nods. “If it catches you, it drags you into an even deeper slumber—I’ve encountered it a few times before. I’m… not sure why it showed up as soon as I pricked my finger, though.”

He pauses and stares quite intently at his own hand, lost in thought.

“How did I let that happen again? I thought I’d learned my lesson after last time, but as soon as I heard Lord Malleus’ voice…”

“Silver,” Yu interrupts. “Um, I don’t really get what happened, but we need to figure out where to go from here…” He gestures vaguely at the pathway before them and the grand exterior of Diasomnia.

“Ah—! Right.” Silver lets his hand fall back to his side, looking towards the dream version of his dormitory. “Let’s assess the situation first. I believe the owner of this dream will be inside.”

“Lead the way, then.”

Before they head into the main building, Yu hesitates and turns to look back. Where the winding cobblestone bridge towards the exit mirror normally would be is an opaque, all-consuming fog. Amidst that fog are wisps of green; magical fireflies flitting back and forth, shining like emeralds.

So this was made possible by…

“Yu?” Silver calls, already a few meters away.

Shaking his head to rid himself of any irrelevant thoughts, Yu turns back around. “Coming, sorry!”

He hurries down the path, trying not to look back again.

#kai's writing #twst oc #yuusona #twst silver #twst book 7 spoilers #uhmm yeah. giggles #silver as aurora agenda always gets me thinking #and yu the poor 'fairy godfather' who is STRUGGLING to do anything in this situation 💀🙏#(evan hansen voice) did i even make a sound? it's like i never made a sound #lots of dialogue taken from in-game sorry but there are changes trust me #i cant help it that yu is literally meant to be reliving the game itself but with his own divergences #now will i stop writing at school? hmm probably not

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dindjarindiaries · 1 year

Text

Security - Chapter 51: The Quest

summary: The Djarin family begins their adventure to Mandalore with guidance and a visit to an old friend.

warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, trauma, fluff

rating: T

word count: 4.795k

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chapter 51: the quest

Astra tightens her grasp on Zora, clutching the giggling child to her chest. “You said this was going to be a calm and quick trip!”

Din’s response comes through a focused breath. “That was before I knew they’d draw the attention of a giant sea creature.” His helmet turns over his armored shoulder as he tries to steal a look at Astra and Zora. “Hang on back there.”

Astra’s too busy securing Zora in place to respond or to observe what else is outside the transparisteel that surrounds her. Zora’s nearly one-year-old curiosity has started to get the best of her, but with her father currently flipping the ship over and preparing to fire, exploration isn’t exactly ideal. At least Din has Grogu, Astra reminds herself with a soft sigh.

Din flips the ship again and Zora lets out a hearty laugh, the kind that brings a smile to Astra’s face no matter how hard she tries to resist it. “Is she laughing?” Din questions, his own smile evident in his tone.

“Are you surprised?” Astra retorts. She earns a soft chuckle through the intercom, along with an excited squeal from the other Djarin child. The sound only makes Zora laugh louder. “All right, angel.” Astra presses a kiss upon the curly hair of Zora’s head. “We have to hush. K’uur.”

Zora obeys, though her curious brown eyes still widen at their surroundings. Her little fingers tighten around Astra’s own as she joins her daughter in observing the atmosphere they’ve flown into. There’s a sandy shore that’s full of helmeted Mandalorians, a sight that would’ve made her heart fall even if the giant sea creature hadn’t been there. Astra can see children lingering behind the front line of forces and her chest inflames with panic on their behalf. She holds Zora closer.

The shot Din takes is calculated and simple, hitting its target with no mercy yet no harm done to those who watch. With the first obstacle cleared, Astra holds her breath and continues to look out at the group of stunned Mandalorians. They would become the very next obstacle, and given Din’s supposed crime, she isn’t sure which one would be more hostile.

Din lands the starfighter with ease on an empty spot along the shore. He slides open the transparisteel above their heads, earning a curious coo from Zora, and looks out at the group he used to call his tribe. Astra hasn’t seen so many of them since the day she entered their covert on Nevarro. She wonders if any of those Mandalorians are still here.

“Din Djarin.” The Armorer’s voice is calm, steady. Astra has no doubt that the favor Din just did for the tribe is the cause for her civility.

“We wish to speak with you,” Din responds. His tone is just as composed and formal as the Armorer’s. When the Armorer remains silent, Din goes on. “We won’t be long.”

The Armorer takes a visible breath while Astra holds her own. To not be directly by Din’s side in the waiting is almost torturous; the tension that oozes from his beskar is palpable. When her golden helmet offers a firm nod, the air becomes lighter and cooler, and Din returns the gesture with a confident straightening of his armored shoulders. The Armorer begins to walk off while the other Mandalorians disperse and recover from the fight.

Astra’s become no better at trying to get out of the starfighter while balancing Zora on her hip. She quickly outgrew her beskar-fused sling, which Din then made into clothing for her—though its absence is now strongly felt in struggles such as this.

“I’ve got her,” Din says in a soft voice from alongside the ship. Astra hands Zora off to him and hears her loud screech of delight. Din chuckles and lets Zora clutch his bandolier. “Hello to you too, baby girl.”

Din keeps a gloved hand extended to help Astra down, making her chest warm almost as much as her face does at their audience. She presses a hand upon his cuirass and pushes herself up to kiss his beskar cheek. “Ready?”

Din nods, steadying Zora on his hip as Grogu stands alongside Astra’s leg. Astra smiles at their son and invites him to continue walking alongside her. As they start to follow the Armorer’s path, Astra watches Zora tug at Din’s bandolier and point at the ground. He pauses to set her down at his side and keep one of her hands tight in his grasp. Astra grins when they continue to walk together, Din matching Zora’s slow pace as she wobbles through the sand. Grogu giggles at Astra’s side, though she notices that he also prepares his tiny hands to catch her should she fall.

Despite the lack of visible gazes surrounding them, Astra can sense each and every eye on their family. She’s not afraid to return their glances with her jaw set. Astra’s determined to hold her tongue for Din’s sake, but she’s got her defense ready should someone try to challenge them. Din once told her she has the heart of a Mandalorian, and despite her lack of armor, she’d be more than willing to show those gathered here exactly what hides beneath the surface.

The silence becomes too much for some. The whispers make their way to Astra once they’re just a few more meters away from the entrance to the cave the Armorer had disappeared inside of. “Of course the apostate would wed an outsider,” one of them says, tilting their helmet at the Mandalorian who stands beside them.

Astra turns towards them with a furrow etched deep between her brows, but Din steps up and speaks before she can. “Direct your anger towards me,” he warns in a low tone, “not my riduur.” He gives his helmet a menacing tilt. “This is your only warning.”

The two Mandalorians straighten at his words. Astra shares a look with Din, who sets a gloved hand upon her back to urge her forward again. Zora and Grogu waddle alongside them as they close the distance to the cave. Din’s hand runs from Astra’s back to her hand, giving it a squeeze in both silent apology and comfort. She returns the gesture.

They round the corner and see the Armorer standing within her forgery, her back turned towards them. There’s a Mythosaur hanging on the wall just as there used to be on Nevarro, along with all the same equipment and tools Astra remembers seeing in the tunnels. Din stops in his tracks and Astra and Grogu follow, but Zora tries to walk forward more. When she starts to fuss, Din scoops her up from the ground and keeps her set on his hip, a position that temporarily satisfies her.

“You have removed your helmet.” The Armorer’s voice startles Astra amidst the heavy silence. The Mandalorian leader’s back still faces them as she addresses Din. “What’s worse, you did so of your own free will.” She turns and lets her visor stare Din down. “You are no longer Mandalorian.”

Just like Glavis, Astra wants to speak in defense of her husband, but she knows now that it’s not her place to do so. Even Grogu chirps something from where he stands in between his parents. Din takes Astra’s hand again with the arm not holding Zora before he responds. “The Creed teaches us of redemption.”

The Armorer moves closer to the forge that stands between them. “Redemption is no longer possible since the destruction of our homeworld.”

An impossible quest. Astra has to strain herself to hold back a scoff. Her and Din share a look as he drops her hand to reach towards his belt. “But what if the mines of Mandalore still exist?”

The Armorer doesn’t look their way. She responds in a dubious tone. “All was destroyed in the Purge.”

Din retrieves the artifact from the pouch on his belt. “Is this inscription not Mandalorian?”

The Armorer’s helmet snaps towards Din. Zora tries to reach for the green crystal, but Din holds it out of her grasp and sets it down on the small table in front of him. She starts to whine, but a soft “shhh” from Din gets her to quiet down quickly. Astra watches Grogu make his way to the side of the table and pull himself up alongside it. She tries to take Zora from Din so he can sit, but their daughter lets out an immediate cry at the mere idea of separating from her father.

“It’s all right,” Din assures Astra in a hushed voice. He sits and keeps Zora on his lap, causing the Armorer to tilt her head at the two of them as she makes her way over.

“Where did you come upon this?” The Armorer’s visor never leaves the relic as she sits across from Din. Astra crosses her arms over her chest, hoping to deflate some of the unease that sticks like sap within it.

“Jawas.” Din glances up at Astra, the look alone easing some of the tension from her. She recalls getting the comm from Peli that one of her Jawas had found something Din would take interest in back on Tatooine. Mos Eisley was thankfully a rather quick trip from Mos Espa. “They came upon it by trade from a traveler who claimed to have visited the surface of Mandalore.”

The Armorer remains silent as she picks up the relic. Its green crystalline surface shines even in the darkness of the cave, the Mando’a inscriptions standing out amidst the rough texture of the trapped rock. “Then this relic only proves that Mandalore’s entire surface has been crystallized by fusion rays.”

Din’s helmet lowers and Astra watches as Zora leans her head against his armored shoulder. He lets her wrap her fingers around one of his as he goes on. “But a traveler was able to retrieve this, so perhaps it is not poisoned.”

Grogu looks between Din and the Armorer in an effort to remain engaged. Astra smiles and shifts her weight, thankful for his light amidst the darkness she’s brought upon herself.

“If I visit the planet,” Din continues, “and I can bring you proof that I have bathed in the Living Waters beneath the mines of Mandalore, then by Creed, the decree of exile will be lifted and I would be redeemed.”

The Armorer takes a long pause, looking over at Grogu when he coos in her direction. Astra forces herself to take a deep breath. She notices Zora’s half asleep on her father’s lap, meaning that at least one out of the two parents are at ease. When the Armorer looks at Din once again and speaks, Astra can hear a smile in her tone. “This is the Way.”

A strange weight lifts off Astra’s shoulders upon hearing the Armorer speak. It’s as if she wants Din to earn this redemption just as badly as he does, despite being the one to enforce it. Though it’s a harsh punishment, Astra begins to wonder if it was harder for the Armorer to follow through with than she initially thought.

Din takes a deep breath of his own relief as the Armorer stands and walks away. Grogu looks at Din and Astra with excitement, though his ears lower upon him observing his mother. Astra tries her best to ease her nerves for Grogu’s sake. She bends down to pick him up while Din stands and keeps their sleeping daughter tucked in his arms. “Then we will see you again.”

The Armorer remains where she is at the work station across the cave. Astra prepares to leave, but stops herself when Din speaks again.

“But… there’s one more thing before we go.” The Armorer turns around as Din glances at Astra. She hears the leather pull tighter on his gloved hands. “The others referred to ner riduur as an ‘outsider.’” Din struggles to say the words in a calm manner. “They’ve disrespected her, although she’s done nothing wrong.”

“Pay them no mind.” The Armorer nods at them. “They long for something they do not have.” Her golden helmet focuses on Astra. “You were trusted and promised security for a reason.”

Astra draws herself close enough to Din’s side for her arm to brush against his. She beams at the Armorer and returns her nod. “This is the Way,” she dares to say.

The Armorer gives her helmet a fond tilt. “This is the Way.”

Din lifts a hand from Zora to set it upon Astra’s back. He guides their family out of the cave and back towards the ship. Astra’s relieved to see that most of the Mandalorians have dispersed, either caring for the wounded or cleaning up the creature’s mess. She grimaces when she spots Paz Vizsla among them, memories of the cruel way he fought Din tearing across her mind like the new vibroblade at her hip.

Once they reach the starfighter, Din stops and leans up to set the sleeping Zora in Astra’s usual seat. He reaches to take Grogu from Astra and places him beside his sister. Din then walks the two of them around the ship, giving them at least some type of privacy as he holds her chin with one of his gloved hands. His visor searches her gaze and he doesn’t have to say a word. Neither does she.

“Nevarro is next,” Din assures her, his voice soft. “We’ll ask Greef if we can stay there for a night. I know the starfighter isn’t a proper place for rest.”

Astra offers a smile. “It’s all right, Din.” She huffs and avoids his visor as she goes on. “I’m just… I don’t think I’m as strong as I used to be.”

“Don’t say that.” Din holds her face with both his hands, urging her to look at him again. “Don’t ever say that, Astra. The fact that you’re still here, amidst my demanding adventures…” Din gives his helmet a shake, “that alone is a testament to your profound strength.”

Astra’s smile returns. She holds his wrists with her hands and gives them a gentle squeeze. “If I’m being honest, though, I’m not really talking about rest.”

Din runs his thumbs over her cheeks. “I know.” He leans forehead to rest his helmet against her head.

Neither one of them has to say anything more. It’s the cycle that’s repeated itself ever since Din was exiled from his tribe. Din assures Astra it’s not her fault, she starts to believe him, and then something happens that makes the wave of guilt swallow her whole once again. For that reason, Astra wants Din to earn his redemption just as badly as he does. Still, Astra makes herself speak the thought that won’t leave her mind. “You love being a Mandalorian.”

“I love my family more.” Din runs his fingers along her face before he forces himself to step away. “Now, the quicker we leave, the quicker we can get to Nevarro.”

Astra nods, letting Din help her up into her seat. She holds on to the kids, who are both now asleep, while Din gets himself settled. This time, he takes Zora, and Astra holds on to Grogu. She smiles as she watches his upper lip curl in gentle snores while the blue skies and shores are replaced with distant stars and the flickering blue lights of hyperspace.

“Cyar’ika?” Din’s voice suddenly comes from the intercom.

Astra lifts her brow. “Yes?”

Din pauses before he speaks with the most meaning he can muster. “I love you.”

Astra grins and runs her hand over Grogu’s furry head. “I love you, too.”

Din’s shoulders start to slump in a sleepy posture, and Astra finds herself doing the same. Though the space is much more cramped than the Razor Crest used to be, Astra’s become used to it, and the smooth ride of the starfighter through hyperspace soon lulls her into a much-needed rest.

When Astra awakens, it’s to the sound of a voice speaking over the comms. “Welcome to Nevarro,” they greet, “independent trade anchor and Outer Rim Hyperlane port. Please state the purpose of your visit.”

“Here to meet an old friend,” Din answers as he navigates the ship to the surface.

Astra can already see how much the planet’s changed since the last time they visited. Grogu coos as he also observes the upscale view of Nevarro they’re offered from up here. Astra smiles and gives his head a kiss. “It’s been a while,” she says to him. “Hasn’t it?”

Grogu coos yet another response while Din finishes landing the ship. Astra chuckles and slides the transparisteel open, almost immediately being met by Din’s outstretched hands. He takes Grogu and sets him in the pram alongside his drowsy sister. Din then helps Astra down, though this time, he keeps his hold on her hand. She smiles and wraps her free hand around his arm, also resting her head against it once they’re set in stride towards the blooming city.

“It’s absolutely beautiful here,” Astra says, stealing a glance up at Din. “I can’t believe how much it’s grown since last time.”

“It’s… much different than before,” Din agrees, taking a step closer to her side. “It’s very nice.” His helmet surveys the area. “And it seems very safe.”

Din’s observations, as well as her own, give Astra an idea that she keeps to herself. It would be too dangerous to surface it now, right at the beginning of a quest that will no doubt take much more time to complete.

A white protocol droid greets them as they walk closer to the heart of the city. “Welcome to the port of Nevarro,” she greets, “gem of the Outer Rim.”

Astra raises her brow and looks at Din again. “The gem?” she repeats.

Din returns her look and offers an amused shrug. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Our esteemed High Magistrate welcomes you,” the droid continues as they walk on, “and hopes that your stay will be a prosperous one.”

Astra lets out a laugh of disbelief. “High Magistrate?” She laughs more when Din shakes his helmet.

Grogu coos with curiosity from the pram. Astra lifts her head from Din’s arm for a moment to steal a glance at him. Zora’s sleepy eyes blink a few times as Grogu points things out to her, whether it be the monkey lizards in the trees or the delightful-smelling goods in the bazaar. Astra’s chest fills with a comforting warmth as she rests her head against Din once again.

Meanwhile, the droid goes on. Astra pays half a mind to her, as the other half’s running loose with thoughts of what could be in this new version of Nevarro. It’s much, much different than it used to be, back when the ash of the lava rivers coated each dwelling and seedy bounty hunters ruled the streets. Now, there’s singing and laughing in the streets.

The family’s walk takes them to the center of the city, where the statue of IG-11 stands tall and proud. Astra gives Din’s hand a gentle squeeze as they approach it. He returns the gesture and keeps her close, his helmet tilted up as he takes them in a semi-circle around it. Din steals a quick glance at their son. “Do you remember your old friend?” he asks. Grogu tilts his head and coos, his ears falling a bit in remembrance of how IG-11 fell.

“Mando! Astra!” a new voice draws their family’s attention.

Din and Astra turn around to see Greef Karga approaching. The High Magistrate now wears galactic best that’s not unlike a planet’s royalty, with strong accents of luxurious red and gold as well as emerald. Two small droids hold up the back of his cape, making Astra raise an eyebrow despite the large and friendly smile that’s spread across her lips. She’s since raised her head from Din’s arm as he closes the distance between them.

Greef laughs as he goes on. “I heard you two were back, but I didn’t believe it.”

Din steps forward to greet him first. “Magistrate Karga.”

“That’s High Magistrate Karga to you.” Greef grins as he offers Din a firm handshake. He then turns his attention to Astra. “And of course, one of the galaxy’s most beloved princesses.” Greef takes her hand and sets a chaste kiss on the back of it.

“Oh, please, Greef,” Astra scoffs with a playful smile. “You know I dropped that title long ago.”

Before Greef can respond, his eyes widen at a new observation he’s made. Astra follows his gaze to see he’s noticed the newest member of their family. “I believe there’s an introduction in order,” Greef states.

Astra grins as Din reaches to lift Zora out of the pram. “This is our daughter, Zora,” Din introduces her.

“Daughter!” Greef laughs with delight and claps his hands together. “What a surprise!” Zora rubs her eyes with her tiny fists and starts to smile as Greef comes closer. “Why, hello little Zora!” Zora giggles with happiness when Greef shakes her hand. Din keeps her propped up on his hip while Greef looks between Astra and Din. “You must look like your father.”

Astra nudges Din’s armored shoulder. “Told you.”

Din tilts his helmet and looks at her. “He’s never even seen my face.”

Greef points at Astra. “But I can see hers.” He turns to Grogu and smiles even wider. “And of course, this little one!” Grogu chirps as Greef reaches down to pick him up. “Welcome back!” Greef returns his attention to Din and Astra as he holds Grogu in his arms. “Come. Let’s catch up on old times.” Astra stays close alongside Din as Greef pats his shoulder. “It’s so good to see you all.”

Din looks around, making an obvious gesture with his helmet. “Doesn’t even look like the same place.”

“I know,” Greef says with a soft breath. “We’ve done a lot with it.” He gestures with his free arm to the area around them. “The citizens have been instrumental in making this all work, and look at this.”

Astra glances around with a smile that never fades. All she sees is a blossoming community, one of harmony and peace. It’s like an upscale Sorgan to her, almost like the smaller villages that surrounded the city of Arilia she once lived within.

They head inside before Astra’s thinking can go off to a dangerous path. Greef leads them to his office upstairs, where he sets Grogu down upon his spinning chair. Din sets Zora beside him and Astra shakes her head as she watches Grogu use his abilities to spin them around. She keeps an eye on them even as Greef invites both her and Din out onto the open balcony.

“We are an official trade spur of the Hydian Way,” Greef tells them as they overlook the city.

“Congratulations,” Din speaks up first.

“You should be very proud,” Astra adds. “I know how difficult this kind of progress can be.”

“Well, we’ve got a construction boom going on in the city,” Greef explains. “The belters are mining the asteroid fields at the edge of the system.” He pauses and looks from the view to Din and Astra. “There’s a lot of money to be made on Nevarro.”

Astra looks at Din as he responds. “I can see.”

“I can set you up with a prime tract right over by the hot springs,” Greef offers, pointing off in the direction of the springs. Astra follows his gaze as best as she can, and even Din seems to ponder his offer for longer than he should. “You two can settle down with Zora and the little one, you can hang up your blasters. Live off the fat of the land.”

Astra swallows hard and looks at the floor. Din visibility tenses alongside her. It’s difficult to be made such an offer, one they would both accept should the circumstances be any different. Instead of agreeing, all Din offers is a single word. “Grogu.”

Greef furrows his brow and sets a hand on his hip. “Come again?”

Din nods in Grogu’s direction. “His name is Grogu.”

“Oh.” Greef looks at Grogu. “If you say so.” He waves the two of them back inside. “Come. I wanna show you something.”

Din and Astra share a look before they follow him. Greef walks around his desk and pulls up a holomap.

“Now,” Greef goes on, “as I was saying, there’s a beautiful parcel available right down here by the falls.”

Astra bites her cheek and looks at Din, waiting for him to reject the offer. Instead, he’s frozen, his gloved fingers fluttering at his sides. Astra furrows her brow, looking between a confused Greef and her evidently conflicted husband. “Can you excuse us a moment, Greef?” Astra asks.

“Of course,” Greef agrees, lifting his hands in further reassurance.

Astra takes Din by the hand and leads him back to the balcony. She stops and takes both his hands in hers as he releases a heavy sigh. “What is it?” she questions, her voice hushed and full of concern.

Din shifts his weight between his feet, his visor looking out at the view as he gains the faith to respond. “You deserve a home.” The words come out strained from his modulator.

Astra’s gaze softens at him. “Din…”

“Nevarro looks beautiful, and it’s safe.” Din looks down at their entwined hands. “I can tell you like it very much here.” He gives them a soft squeeze. “Having a home is important to you.”

“It is.” Astra lifts a hand to tilt Din’s helmet back up at her. “But you’re more important to me, and you have a quest to fulfill.” She offers him her most reassuring smile. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

Din tilts his helmet at her. “You’ve already given up so much for me.”

“As have you.” Astra nods at him. “That’s what our riduurok is.” She gestures with her head to the holomap Greef still has pulled up. “I’m sure this home will be ready for us once we’re ready for it.”

Din’s visor searches her gaze for a few moments before he takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He returns her nod. “Only if you’re certain.”

“I am.”

Din presses her hand to his chest. His voice is a whisper, now. “I’m sorry.”

Astra shakes her head. “Don’t be.” She lightly drums her fingers upon his cuirass. “You’re my home. Remember?”

Din tilts his helmet, the best substitute he has for a smile, before he leads the way back inside. Greef looks up at them from the holomap as Din provides their agreed upon response. “We appreciate the offer, but we have some matters to look after.”

“Oh.” Greef lifts his brow. “I’m confused. I thought you had completed your mission, but you’re still running around here with the same little critter.” He gestures to Grogu, who continues to spin a giggly Zora and himself around in the chair.

Din sets a hand on the back of the chair to stop them. He pauses before he answers. “It’s complicated.” He exchanges a glance with Astra. “We completed our quest. He returned to us.” Din hesitates and moves closer to Astra’s side. “I removed my helmet, and now I’m an apostate.”

“Which is all the more reason for you to stay here with us,” Greef insists. Astra tightens her hands into fists at her sides. “Where you are from, you may be an apostate, but here… you’d both be landed gentry.”

“Maybe after we’ve…” Astra begins to say.

She’s interrupted by a droid walking in. “Magistrate,” they call for Greef.

“High Magsitrate,” Greef retorts.

“Yes, High Magistrate,” the droid corrects themselves. “Apologies.”

“Your timing couldn’t be any worse,” Greef complains with a look over his shoulder.

“But it’s just that there’s someone here to see you.”

Din and Astra share a look.

“It can wait,” Greef hisses.

“But it’s pirates!” Greef turns around in a rapid movement. Din and Astra continue to glance at each other, Astra’s eyes widening a bit as Din shifts his weight. “Pirates in the courtyard.”

Astra looks between Din and their children, who continue to giggle and play around on Greef’s spinning chair. She furrows her brow and draws herself just a bit closer to Din’s side. There’s still a lot for them to discuss since landing on Nevarro, but one thing’s for certain: Perhaps Nevarro isn’t as safe as they thought.

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greyennui · 1 year

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Q&A for Anger is but Passion Borne of Love

@waterho-writes and I can still hardly believe how much love and support we've gotten on this Bowuigi fic, so we want to thank y'all for sticking around on this journey! We're only about halfway through the story, and we can't wait for y'all to read the rest.

Below the cut is the Q&A with all your questions. Enjoy!

Q: Did Mario and Luigi come from Earth like in canon or have they always been in the fantasy world?

It’s a passing mention in Chapter 1, but Mario and Luigi grew up in an orphanage that still sends them a monthly stipend (allowance). They’ve always been a part of this Regency-era Mushroom Kingdom, but are still outcasts in a way.

Q: Is Luigi allergic to flowers?

Not all flowers, just the really pollen-y and smelly ones (like lilies).

Q: How tall are Luigi and Bowser?

Luigi is 5’8” (~172cm) and Bowser is 6’4” (~193cm) For a visual reference:

Q: What happened at the trial?

Keep reading to find out!

Q: Are we gonna get Bowuigi smut??

Waterho: There will absolutely be smut. GreyEnnuigi can only stop me for so long. 😈 GreyEnnuigi: Don’t worry; the Explicit Sexual Content and Dom/sub tags are not just for show (and note that we did not add the Rape/Non-con archive warning). Consensual spicy times will come! And so will Bowser and Luigi!

Q: Could you give a summary of the smut in the chapter notes if it’s plot-relevant?

The smut will be plot-relevant at some points, so we can definitely do this.

Q: Will Luigi get his own emotional support animal for his anxiety (like Polterpup)?

Waterho: Does Bowser count as an emotional support animal? GreyEnnuigi: We haven’t planned for a Polterpup in this story, as there’s already a fair bit going on plotwise. Putting a dog into the mix might well and truly throw us off the rails. ;)

Q: Will Luigi be able to overcome his anxiety? I want to see Luigi put someone in their place after they insulted him.

Luigi actually does this during the announcement dinner in Chapter 8 in this exchange with Lord Booking: Lord Booking paled a bit, his mouth turning into a slight frown. “Indeed. Such a delicate flower must be hidden away, for exposure to that world would surely wither it.” […] [Luigi] straightened himself up, still holding Lord Koopa’s hand open in both of his own, then addressed Lord Booking directly: “Some flowers may thrive in the shade and wilt in the sun, but it does not make them any less a part of this world, Lord Booking.” Lord Booking is implying that Bowser is hiding Luigi away because he’s a commoner in a noble’s world and can’t handle the change. Luigi’s response is essentially, “Yeah, I’m a commoner and I’ve lived my life differently, but that doesn’t mean I don’t belong here.” Don’t worry, we like character growth in this house. ;) GreyEnnuigi: On the same sort of subject, if you ever have questions about the fancy Regency language, don’t be afraid to ask! It’s very flowery and can be complicated, especially if English isn’t your first language. I’d be happy to “translate” any passages for you into modern English.

Q: Is there going to be a good or bad ending?

There is going to be a happy ending! This is a fairytale retelling, after all. ;)

Q: You started this fic as a joke, but now it’s not a joke anymore. How did that conversation happen?

A few things to note before we answer this: 1. GreyEnnuigi has wanted to write a Regency AU for a while. 2. We saw the Mario movie together and started reading Bowuigi fics because we couldn’t get enough. 3. We noticed that a lot of Bowuigi fics had a Beauty and the Beast theme. With that out of the way, here’s the transcript of how that conversation played out over text messages: 22:48 Waterho Ok hear me out 22:49 Waterho Bowuigi Beauty and the beast set in a regency setting 22:49 GreyEnnuigi omg wait haha 22:49 GreyEnnuigi but like 22:49 GreyEnnuigi is Bowser still koopa 22:50 GreyEnnuigi or is he big beefcake human 22:50 Waterho Big beefcake human obviously 22:50 GreyEnnuigi excellent 22:51 Waterho The more I fall down the bowuigi hole, the more I feel like I gotta try my hand at it lmao 22:51 Waterho That movie changed me [sparkles emoji] 22:51 GreyEnnuigi bro the URGE i have had this week 22:51 GreyEnnuigi it's undeniable 22:51 Waterho Why are we like this 22:52 GreyEnnuigi i prefer not to ask questions like that 22:52 GreyEnnuigi BUT LISTEN 22:52 Waterho This was a children’s movie why did they have to make The Scene so spicy 22:52 GreyEnnuigi if you can give me plot and conflict and incidents 22:52 Waterho Listening 22:52 GreyEnnuigi i will write that shit 22:53 GreyEnnuigi i have too many plots I'm thinking about rn but if you can give me an outline I'll do the rest [relieved face emoji] 23:04 Waterho [drops a 5-paragraph summary of the first chapter and main plot points] 23:04 GreyEnnuigi omg that was quick 23:04 GreyEnnuigi okay I'm reading 23:06 GreyEnnuigi eheheh yes I like this 23:06 Waterho Excellent After that conversation we kept feeding each other ideas and plot points and then GreyEnnuigi was writing it and Waterho kept coming up with more scenes and now here we are.

Q: What is it like making a chapter for this fic?

Waterho: basically, I supply the maladaptive daydreaming, and GreyEnnuigi supplies the prose and structure. Then we add it up and try to create a somewhat cohesive narrative. Many of our conversations these days start with “ok listen….” GreyEnnuigi: We have the overall plot planned out and most of it outlined, so we already know what main plot events we want to happen in each chapter. After that it’s a matter of filling the rest of the chapter by fleshing out the characters, doing a bit of worldbuilding, and making sure we’re progressing all the relationships properly. This usually happens with Waterho proposing a specific scenario, then we ask ourselves how this and that character would react and does that fit with the plot, and then we agree on how the situation unfolds. Then I write it all out, Waterho tries to convince me to add fluff and smut too early, I rein it back in and write something more subtle, and then we review, edit, and post. Here’s an example of this sort of back-and-forth from our chat transcript: 23:00 GreyEnnuigi thinking I'm gonna start chapter 3 with Kamek confronting Bowser about Luigi, but what else should happen in ch 3 after that 23:00 Waterho Let’s see the part where bowser [redacted for spoiler reasons] 23:01 GreyEnnuigi ooh so soon?? 23:02 Waterho If we want to draw it out more we could push that part off 23:02 GreyEnnuigi i just don't want Bowser to be too soft at the beginning 23:02 GreyEnnuigi Luigi needs to wear him down first lol 23:02 Waterho Fair enough

Q: Is this fic definitely going to have 20 chapters?

With what we currently have planned and outlined, 20 chapters is our best estimate for how long the story will be. It’s very possible this will change, and if it does, it’s more likely that we’ll end up with more than 20 chapters as opposed to less.

Q: Is there a schedule for uploading chapters?

We don’t currently have a schedule and we’re just posting the chapters as we finish them. That being said, we’ve been on a pace of about 1 chapter every other day. That could definitely change, though, so don’t expect us to stick to that.

Q: In this world hetero is not seen as the default. Did you write it this way because you didn’t want to focus on the homosexuality topic but more on the Bowser/Luigi ship itself?

Short answer: Yes. Long answer: The concept of homosexuality being accepted in this AU came about as we were discussing the reason Bowser would accept Luigi in exchange for Peach as a spouse. If we were to follow realistic Regency-era ideologies, then it would be extremely unlikely for Bowser to take Luigi as a spouse as he is (i.e. a cis man). We wanted to follow the Beauty and the Beast storyline, which at its core is our protagonist falling in love with someone who is widely regarded as unlovable. It wouldn’t have made sense to include homophobia in the plot, and that wasn’t the story we wanted to tell. Also, the beauty of fiction is that we can make our own rules and do whatever the hell we want with it, so we did!

Q: Who’s who??

Luis Walbright: Waluigi Thomas Kamek: Kamek Kammy Magis: Kammy George Morton: Morton (Koopaling) Lemarcus Swift: Lemmy (Koopaling) Laurence Ripley: Larry (Koopaling) Lord William Booking: King Boo Ellord Elvin Booking: Professor E. Gadd Lady Daisy Sarasa: Daisy Ellady Rosalina Sarasa: Rosalina Lord Henry Toadsworth: Toadsworth Ellady Etta Toadsworth: Toadette Lady Birdie Pirah: Birdo Ellord Peter Pirah: Petey Piranha John Tannock (tailor): Tanuki (maker of Tanuki suits) Lord Robert Ombler: King Bob-Omb Ellady Sylvia Ombler: Sylvia (Paper Mario: TTYD) Lord Lionel & Ellady Catherine Graham: GreyEnnuigi made these up, but their names are basically animal crackers (Lion & Kitty + Graham) for no reason other than it amused them Ignatius Hopper: Iggy (Koopaling) Wendy Carter: Wendy (Koopaling) Gustav Ember: Goomba (general, no specific character) (note: Waterho still maintains that the Goomba should have been named Barry Ragoon) (note: GreyEnnuigi still maintains that it's best if GreyEnnuigi remains in charge of naming the characters in this fic)

Q: If we were to make fanart for this fic, where should we tag y’all to let you know?

We would be honored if you wanted to make fan art for our fic! If you do, tag @greyennui and @waterho-writes on Tumblr, and you can also use the fic’s tag #Anger is but Passion Borne of Love

#Q&A #bowuigi fic #Anger is but Passion Borne of Love

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valkeakuulas · 2 months

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The Bad Batch episode 15: The Cavalry Has Arrived/Finale

I've not done reaction posts like these since the days of MTMTE (and now I feel old) but since it was the season 3 finale, I thought I could just do that.

Mostly, I'm inspired by @come-chaos who has done these throughout the whole season

Let's start with saying that I'm actually positively happy about the finale!

I mean, I would've liked certain things to be a bit different (the whole tangling of the CX clones in front of our noses but cutting them that short for example as well as have at least 4 more episodes for this season to clear things up) but no one died? Only one limb was lost?

The fact that they are still alive by the time Rebellion rolls in (minus Echo because we don't know about him 😭) was a LOT more than I was hoping for.

51 minutes??? Can they fit everything in less than an hour???

Oh. Oh, the title! It’s black, just like their armor!!

Bitch fight, bitch fight

Echo hits with consciousness. It’s super effective!

The music for the baby rebellion! That sling! It’s been only so short into the episode and everything’s moving so fast!

FUCKING DARKNESS, THE LIGHT COMES FROM THE SAME PLACE AS THE MUSIC, PEOPLE!

Buttons, buttons, buttons

It’s Zillo, bitch! Chomp chomp chomp!

Echo knows his sister

adkljalgfjagh Bayrn is definitely proto-Grogu; he loves destruction

“Echo’s handiwork or Omega’s?” “Omega” x2

IT’S THE CX CHAMBER! … Hey. Their bodytypes? Are they – are they copies of the Batch? Like clones of clones? Because I see one big, one sniper and so on

HOLY SHIT HIS HAND, THEY TOOK HIS HAND … Y’know, it wouldn’t be a proper SW cartoon/movie if someone didn’t lose a limb, so why I’m so shocked?

Ohhhh, the music when the clone rebellion starts!

Rampart, you bitch! Uh oh, that bomb’s gonna go off

IT'S A TRAP! ECHO!

NO ONE’S DEAD YET! THIS IS EITHER A GOOD THING OR A BAD THING?!?

The rain and the lightning, a storm on an otherwise calm planet. Comparison to Kamino maybe? Because in there, everything important happens during the storms

Bye, Scorch

Ohhh, the way Hunter and Crosshair are kneeling side-by-side, steadying each other! How Hunter tells Cross to thrust Omega

DIE BITCHLOCK 😡

… Everyone’s still alive??? How? Is this - is something bad going to happen at the very last minute?

Project Stardust gets mentioned

Pabu! Sun! Happy clones enjoying space-sushi and ice cream! Emerie has no glasses!

Echo leaves, oh nooooooooo

“Whatever we want.” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NO ONE DIED

… Wait, what’s this?? Is that Ventress? … HOLY SHIT THAT’S AN ADULT OMEGA, ISN’T IT??

Gonky!

omg Hunter got old! But how come he’s still dark-haired? And the beard! And a ponytail?! He was a DILF before but daaaaaaamn, now he’s a mega-DILF 😘

awwwww, Hunter being all Dad! And Crosshair and Wrecker are still alive?! But no mention of Echo??!! Why's that???

Tech’s goggles, Tech’s goggles!! And Lula was on the chair where Omega threw her bag!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

#Star Wars: The Bad Batch #the Bad Batch spoilers #Star Wars

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notsocheezy · 2 months

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Brain Curd #52

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please enjoy.

It was a gloomy sort of day outside - raining as hard as I’d ever seen it. The clouds were so thick and grey that the only light that managed to illuminate the city was that of momentary flashes of lightning.

It was the perfect sort of weather to spend inside with a cup of tea. I took a sip and flinched when the still-nearly-boiling liquid singed my tongue. A minute more to cool.

The very moment I set it down on my side table coaster, there was a knocking at the apartment door. At first quiet, nearly ignorable, it got louder and louder. By the ten second mark, it was a pounding, pleading sort of knock. I looked through the peephole, and through the distorted lens could not make out the face cloaked in darkness. Still, the figure continued banging on the door. Against better judgment, I opened it - though with the chain still attached.

The figure brought their eye to the opening, and I was mortified to see my own face staring at me, saying “You are capable of great evil.”

If it was anyone else saying so, I’d tell them to take a hike, but I couldn’t turn myself away back to the frigid cold.

I poured another cup of tea and set it beside them. They eagerly took a sip and burned their tongue.

“So…” I said, trying to start the conversation. “Evil?”

“Ah, yes.” They put their cup down on the table without using a coaster. “Great evil. Not your everyday run-of-the-mill kind.”

“What do you mean, like - like Hitler?”

“The painter?” They scratched their chin and looked up and to the right. “Oh, no, hold on…” They pulled out a device that looked like a modern-day Blackberry and scrolled through some text. “This is universe 52, is it not?”

“I don’t know, to tell you the truth.”

“Oh, wait, sorry, I was looking at the wrong document. Is your Hitler a musician… or an architect or something?” Their face froze up when they got to the part they were looking for. “Uh… no, to answer your question, no - not like Hitler.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Yeah, no, sorry to scare you like that. I just meant, like… world domination type stuff, you know?”

“That was Hitler’s whole thing too.”

“No, I mean, yes, but the genocide thing… we don’t do that.”

“Oh good.” I tapped my fingers on the arm of my chair. I never knew I was so awkward. “What did your Hitler do?”

“Other than painting? Massive tax fraud. And there were some… allegations too, but there’s still some debate on that.”

“Did you guys still have the holocaust?”

“Well, yeah, of course, Hitler wasn’t the only person capable of fascism.”

“What about 9/11?”

“Forget about that, it isn’t important. We’re really off track here.”

“Okay,” I put my hands up. “Sorry I asked.”

“Right, where was I?” They fiddled with the trackball on the side of their device until finding some sort of notes page. “Right. You are capable of great evil… yadda yadda yadda… in universe 51 - your neighbor universe - you stole nuclear warheads and held the entire Earth population ransom for one billion dollars.”

“Like Dr. Evil.”

“What?”

“From Austin Powers.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nevermind.”

“Anyway, in the process, you murdered thousands and caused countless more minor injuries.”

“That sounds like genocide.”

“It wasn’t racially motivated.”

“How does that make it any better?”

“Shut up.” They pinched the bridge of their nose and sighed. “Maybe you aren’t villain material.”

“No, no, wait, I can do this. I really need a job.”

“Fine, fine, here.” They handed me an aptitude test. “Go take this exam in the corner. No cheating.”

It wasn’t an easy test, and it took me about fifty minutes to complete, but it for sure could have been worse. I bombed my SATs back in high school. I turned the exam back into my alternate self. They put on reading glasses and took out a red pen to start grading.

At first, they seemed pleasantly surprised, but as they turned pages, their expression soured and the red pen was used more and more often.

“This is unfortunate.” They said.

“What was my score?”

“Ninety-seven.”

“That sounds great!”

“Ninety-seven per-bi-cent. That’s out of two-hundred. This was a true or false test. You did slightly worse than guessing.”

“Damn.”

“And what’s worse, the inter-dimensional police consider you an accomplice to the you who stole the nukes.”

“Why?”

“You were nearby and you didn’t say anything.”

“But I didn’t even know until you just told me!”

“You’ll have to tell that to the judge, I’m afraid.”

I slumped in my chair. “This has been an absolutely awful day.”

So anyway, yeah, that’s why I didn’t make it to the unemployment office yesterday. It was a job interview, and I’m telling you, I would have taken the job if it was offered. Denied? Shoot. Here’s hoping the inter-dimensional police serve decent prison food.

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bratshaws · 1 year

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through the hourglass 62. brb x oc

a/n: no ROOSTER in this chapter ;-; but there will be ON THE NEXT EHE

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: mentions of eric. OHB OY

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44/

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

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The first few hours without Rooster were fine, Nicole was quiet, she was used to not having her dad during the mornings after all. Beatrice was thankful that their daughter was such a calm baby most of the time, either too busy looking around with interest or trying to grab the mobile above her head as it moved in circles.

But as the day went by, Nicole got fussy, the closer it got to Rooster’s return time the eager she got, kicking and waving her arms and legs, letting out happy squeals because she somehow knew that Rooster would walk past the front door and kiss her cheeks over and over before picking her up. Beatrice just frowned as she watched from the sink, seeing her little daughter just wriggling out of pure excitement about having her father back soon.

Beatrice looked up at the clock on the wall seeing that indeed he’d be home soon if he was still in California. Maybe Nicole wouldn’t mind it too much, maybe she’d act just like when they both go to the Hard Deck…she hoped so at least.

But alas, that wasn’t what happened.

When the clock’s hands moved to the specific time that Rooster got home,Nicole stopped moving - as if she wanted to hear his steps as he got into the house - and waited. Beatrice felt so bad, chewing her lower lip at the expectative look on her daughter’s face, “Nikki,daddy isn’t home, he’s going to be away for three months.” she knew her daughter couldn’t understand but she couldn’t not tell her about it.

Nicole just moved her light green eyes to Beatrice, then back to where she knew the door was even though she couldn’t see it. “Nikki, I–” how does someone explain that to an infant? There was no way she’d understand, but Nikki’s face slowly scrunched and soft hiccups broke out of her throat when she didn’t see her father, “Oh no,no,no, no,Nikki.” Beatrice rushes to the bouncer just as Nicole’s hiccups got longer and high pitched into gentle crying.

She picks the baby up, holding Nicole against her chest,bouncing and shushing her the best she could but it wasn’t working. Especially when Beatrice turns around and Nicole’s eyes meet the front door and only the front door.

It was the very first time that Nicole cried so loud.

And it pained Beatrice immensely, “No,no, it’s okay, it’s okay,” her eyes stung as her daughter cried loud and she felt the hot tears touching her neck, Nicole’s tiny fists clenching her mother’s shirt, “Sssh,sshh,it’s okay, it’s okay baby,I know.” her voice cracked and she wiped her own eye with her sleeve covered shoulder, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I know,I know you miss him. I miss him too.”

More crying, she could feel how hot her daughter’s cheeks were because of the blood flow rising to her face. Nicole was heartbroken just by her crying, it was the worst thing she had ever heard, “Nikki,ssshhh,it’s okay.” she kept bouncing the infant, walking around the kitchen with the dogs following her since they heard the crying as well, “It’s okay, sshhh,it’s okay…”

Nicole’s crying slowly faltered to gentle whimpers, tears clung to those long lashes and her tiny chest convulsed with hiccups, only being able to let out a quiet whine after a while. Beatrice cautiously turned her head to check on her daughter, seeing that there were tears still in her eyes but she stopped crying completely, “...oh,birdie,” she whispers, kissing her daughter’s head, ‘It’s okay.” she knew deep inside it wasn’t, she knew that Nicole couldn’t understand why her father who stayed close from the second she was born wasn’t there by her side.

Her mother just bounced her in her arms for a few more minutes,kissing that fluffy hair that was now leaning more to a dark sandy brown color much like her father. And the comparison only made Bea frown a bit more, “I’ll have to talk to him and check when we’ll be able to chat, so you can see him too, you know?” Nicole whined again, earning another kiss to her head, “It’s okay, birdie, it’s okay.”

Nicole’s cries dissipated into nothing, her tiny hands holding onto Beatrice’s shirt still and her soft cheek squished on Beatrice’s shoulder. Her mother rubbed her back soothingly, heart still hurting from seeing her cry so much.

When she went to put her back on her bouncer,Nicole cried out in complaint and Beatrice pulled her back up so she could be close to her chest, “Okay, you don’t want to be there, that’s fine.” she murmured, “But mommy has to clean some stuff,birdie.” she explains, “I think I can…um…well…” she could wrap Nicole against her body as she cleaned the house, she had learned a few wrap carries from youtube videos that she wore whenever they had to go out.

Beatrice sighed, adjusting her baby in her arms as she walked up the staircase to Nicole’s nursery, turning on the lights and gently placing her on the changing table. She stays close in case she cries out but she doesn’t, she just keeps her mother in her sights all the time.

Soon enough Beatrice hears the sound of her phone, the same one she kept downstairs, “Ugh, fuck.” she groans, flexing her hands and then picking Nicole back up, “Sorry,sweetie, mommy is all over the place. We just need to…ugh, okay, maybe– Ellie!”

Eleanor scrambles up the staircase and almost hits her ribs on the threshold, stopping with her ears perked up and pink nose turned to where Beatrice was, “I know this is a bit weird, but you love grabbing things…can you get me my phone? It’s in my bag,” she moves her hand on her chest as if to show the position the bag usually is when she’s holding, “My bag, you know it,right? You know what it is.”

The white pup blinks up at her, wags her tail for a bit then bolts downstairs. Her hurried paws echo all around the house and Beatrice could hear her sniffing about trying to find the one thing her owner asked her to get.

Beatrice just waited, while looking down at Nicole, frowning at the tear tracks on her soft and small face and the gentle sniffling she still had going on. Beatrice refused to tell Rooster about this because she knew if she did he’d blame himself immediately and that’s not what she wanted especially when he’s so far away.

She didn’t know when they’d be able to talk, he left early this morning after all, but she hoped it’d be soon because of Nicole’s reaction of his absence. She knew Nicole didn’t like when they weren’t home, but thy managed to work through it by sending her to Bea’s parents, she was now used to her mother’s absence during that specific period of time.

But Rooster’s situation was a bit different.

Nicole didn’t understand because she’s just a baby who just turned a month old, she’s used on having both of her parents close by at all times and not to mention, she has a strong connection with both. In her little baby mind it made no sense why her father wouldn’t be home by the time he should be.

Beatrice’s worried thoughts stopped when she heard the tinkling of her xenomorph keychain swinging and Eleanor’s clipped nails clicking on the floor. The white dog stood by the door with the strap of Beatrice’s bag held tightly between her large maws, curved tail wagging “Ellie!You got it!” Beatrice’s tone only makes the dog’s tail wags harder and she wiggles her way inside, dropping the bag on the brunette’s feet and then rolling on the floor to show her pink tummy, “You are such a good girl, thank you! Thank you!”

Beatrice gives her some belly rubs before Eleanor rolls back to stand on her paws, watching with curiosity as Beatrice opens the bag to pull out her phone, “Thank you Ellie,I’ll give you treats downstairs, okay?” Eleanor’s tail stops wagging and she barks out a complaint, “Ellie! Later, I promise okay? Don’t worry,you’ll get it.”

She could swear the pup’s eyes were narrowed in disbelief but she turned around and left the room with a trot. Beatrice sighs, tossing her back to the rocking chair as she checks her phone with her free hand still on top of Nicole’s chest.

Her daughter’s small palm touched the back of her finger, holding the digit close and tight as her mother checked what set her phone off.

Beatrice couldn’t see much yet, checking all her messages and seeing that four of them were from the girls’ group chat,two were from Hangman who took on the mantle of ‘worried uncle and honorary older brother’ asking if she was okay and the last one from her mother who let her know that she was coming over later to bring her dinner.

She smiles in thanks, typing out messages for everyone until Shells’ name popped on the screen, interrupting her typing.

Shells (16:34)

Babes!! Are you home?

Bea (16:34)

Yeah,I am…why?

Shells (16:35)

I’m coming over. We need to talk about something and I’m bringing Ev with me!

Cue to Shells sending a picture of herself and Evelyn inside Shells’ buick, their taller friend holding several bubble teas on her lap while giving the blonde an ugly look

Bea (16:36)

Wait,what? Why? Is everything okay?

Shells (16:36)

You’ll see! Love you!

Beatrice just stared down at the phone in silence,blinking quietly and then furrowing her brows, only looking away when she heard Nicole’s soft noises from her changing table. “Sorry,birdie.” she says sweetly, pocketing her phone into her jeans, “Your aunt Shells is coming over with your aune Evelyn.” Maybe that would help her cheer up, she liked Shells and Evelyn a lot more now that she was used to them.

She was confused as to why Shells was coming over considering they’ve seen each other earlier that day while cleaning the bar…and why she was coming with Evelyn. But Beatrice didn’t have much time to think about it because the doorbell rang and Eleanor started barking like crazy, “They are already here?!” she pulls out her phone to check the camera app and in fact, it was Shells and Evelyn, with Shells waving at the camera with a huge smile.

Beatrice opens the mic to talk through her phone, “I thought you guys would arrive much later.”

“She stepped on the gas to get here.” Evelyn explains as Beatrice walks down the stairs with Nicole against her chest, “She really wanted to get here soon.”

“With good reason! Come on,Bea!Come on, we gotta celebrate!”

What the hell was going on?

Beatrice slides her phone back inside her pocket after gently pushing Eleanor away and opening the front door. “Ah!Bumblebea!” Shells is grinning so wide it’s like her face will split in half, “Hi,Nikki! Hi! It’s me your favorite auntie!” Nicole just blinked at the blonde but did hold onto her finger as she wagged it in front of her face, “Ah,she’s so cute, here Ev, let me grab it.”

She takes the bubble teas from Evelyn’s hands and marches past Beatrice inside her house. The brunette looks back to where her friend was humming and then looks back at Evelyn, “...what is happening?”

“I have no idea.” Evelyn says as she walks in so Beatrice could close the door, “She showed up at my place and ordered me to come down, didn’t say why, just said we were going to see you and that it was going to be great.”

“...that’s worrisome.”

“No kidding.” Evelyn mutters, the two of them walking along to the kitchen where they could hear Shells’ happy humming, “Anyway,how are you? I know Rooster left this morning.”

Beatrice smiles weakly, giving her friend a shrug, “...well it’s…I’m used to it.”

“But Nicole isn’t.”

“No.” comes out as a groan as she looks down at her daughter, “Cried so much when she didn’t see Rooster walk through the door, broke my heart,Ev.”

Evelyn stays silent for a bit, but Beatrice sees her friend’s jaw move and her lips curl into her mouth. She had a feeling that hearing brought back memories from her own childhood when her father was gone for a long time and since Rooster told her that Cyclone first held Evelyn when she was already one year old it probably made her a bit uncomfortable to think about it again, “...It’ll be fine.” she finally says, breaking the silence between them, “She’ll be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“You and Rooster are raising her well when it comes to that topic,” there’s a hidden bitterness in her words, undoubtedly from the time when she was younger, “She’ll understand. Plus, when he calls,she’ll be able to see him.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Do you plan on telling him about her reaction?”

“No, absolutely not.” Beatrice shakes her head while changing Nicole’s position to her other shoulder, “He’ll just feel guilty and I don’t want that.”

“Are you two coming or what?” Shells’ voice interrupts them,”Come on!”

Both women looked at each other then stepped a bit faster to the kitchen where Shells had somehow found a bag of spicy chips that she poured into a bowl, “What’s the celebration for?” Beatrice asks, grabbing a chip herself and sitting down when Shells flaps her hand as if telling her to do so.

“Yeah,I want to know why I was yanked out of my house as well,” Evelyn comments with her arms folded on top of the table,”Considering you said absolutely nothing.”

Shells had that little smile on her face, the one that she often had that reminded them of ‘Dennis the Menace’ for some odd reason. She crunched her chip with the same smile, grabbing the bubble teas she left in the fridge and placing them in front of her friends, “Mango for Bea and Ube for Evelyn.” she ignored her friends’ confused stares, sipping her own strawberry one and popping the bubbles in her mouth.

The blonde waits for a little bit, then she waits until both of them were sipping the cold treat to finally say “So, do you guys remember Beatrice’s ex? The one who ruined her life and still tried to act like he had a chance? Well he messaged me and asked me about you.”

Beatrice stopped drinking, glad she didn’t choke on the bubble at the sudden mention of her ex-boyfriend, “W-What?”

“Yeah,he messaged me on insta. Asked me about you,all that shit.”

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed, “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,babes.”

There’s silence because they never expected to hear about Eric again, nor knowing that he messaged Shells. Shells. The one person he is scared of from the second he met her years ago. Beatrice just looks at the white bubbles in her cup, seeing the red and yellow liquids mix inside as she takes in what Shells said, “...what did he want?”

“He wanted to know about you, wanted to know how you were.” Shells looked so happy, “I told him you were probably busy giving Rooster attention,wink-wink, and he got pissed about it. Said I was in the whole scheme, it was crazy.”

“Scheme?”

“I think he still believes you are just,” she shrugs, “Not…really married to Rooster. I think he thinks it’s all a great joke being played on him.”

“That’s insane.” Evelyn says, giving Beatrice a worried look, “Why the fuck would he do that?”

“Because Eric thinks he’s better than everyone, there’s no one who could best him and he likes to feel superior to others.” she explains while running her fingers on Nicole’s hair, “...but it’s…why would he do that? Why would he message you?”

“Beats the hell outta me,babes.” Shells shrugs, “I just cussed him out and told him if he ever did this again I’d kick his balls so hard he’d cough pubic hair.” and she says that with a smile, extremely pleased with herself, slurping her tea with the same grin.

Beatrice didn’t like how he showed up again. She thought that after she broke his nose, after he ran away from her at the reunion, he wouldn’t consider on asking about her or trying to see how she was again. “I don’t get it.” she mutters with a gentle shake of her head, “Why would he do this? It makes no sense.’

“I agree,”Evelyn says while supporting her chin on the back of her hand, “Why would he try to reach out to you now? Especially after everything.”

“Maybe it’s the universe aligning so Rooster can beat the shit out of him.” Shells suggests, “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

It would.

But Beatrice just chewed her lower lip, “It’s been…what, two years since I last saw him? It’s so odd to me, guys. It’s like he can’t believe I am married,it’s like he doesn’t get it.”

“Maybe he’s just stupid.”

Shells and her colorful commentary never ceased to amuse them but Beatrice looked…annoyed and worried at the same time. Why the hell is he still trying to get information out of her? That makes absolutely no sense. And she didn’t want to worry about that when there were other things like the baby in her arms that was curiously looking at the bubble tea right now, “Maybe he is.” Beatrice whispered, “I…I just don’t like it.”

“I mean, no one does.” Evelyn adds, furrowing her brows, “Do you think he really believes you are making your whole relationship with Rooster?”

“Honestly I wouldn’t be surprised.” she mutters, “A lot of people seem to doubt that…ugh,I can’t think about it right now,I need to focus on Nikki and how we are going to do everything here without Roos. Jake and Bob said they’ll show up later this week and-”

“Oh! So will we then,right Ev? A big sleepover party!”

“No one said anything about sleeping over,Shells.”

“I know but wouldn’t it be fun?”

Evelyn flicks her eyes from Shells to Beatrice and Nicole, gesturing twice to the still awake baby in their friend’s arms. Shells finally remembers that the reasons for a sleepover, especially when there’s a one month old baby involved, shouldn’t even exist, “...oh.”

Evelyn sighs with annoyance before turning towards Beatrice “We’ll stop by, you won’t be alone.”

“I know.’ Beatrice grins, “And I appreciate you guys a lot because of it…it’s just,you know, it’s strange. She feels it too and…I don’t know,I don’t want to do a bad job.” Nicole’s light green eyes meet her mother’s and her tiny hand comes up to touch her mother’s lips. Beatrice couldn’t help but kiss the little palm and keep it close to her face, “I felt so bad seeing her cry.”

Evelyn parted her lips to speak, closed them, then opened them again, “Do you have something that Rooster used before he left?”

“Oh,uh, there’s one of his shirts.”

“You can hang it by Nikki’s crib when she’s asleep…it’s what my mother did to me with one of my dad’s shirts…It helped a little, at least until you can talk to him.”

Beatrice thinks about it but agrees, mentally glad to be done on the Eric subject and focusing on Rooster instead. As always, he was a much better thought than her ex ever was. “I’ll do that, thanks Ev.”

“You are welcome.” a pause, “Wait, did you just bring me over because you wanted to talk about how you dealt with Eric?”

Shells smiles, slurping what was left of her bubble tea, “Yeah! I thought it’d be fun!”

Which then evolved into a back and forth of questions and amused answers that Beatrice couldn’t really add in, choosing to sip her tea in peace while relaxing from what happened earlier. Even if Eric was brought in conversation and even if she worried why he was still so…latched onto her, thinking of Rooster helped a whole lot.

…God, she hopes these three months go by fast.

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