IRREDEEMABLE
Part 4
Love, a concept so complicated to even grasp and yet, every single soul in the universe end up craving it. I have had my share of the cravings, but, news flash, it all resulted in me being left alone stranded. So the concept is now hid safe inside a box. buried deep down somewhere inside, and at times like these I hear the faint screaming it does from the suffocation, all for some acknowledgement. And now, Geto, Love? The one minute he stared longer? Gojo's words kept replaying in my head on my way to find Suguru.
I wouldnt run my thoughts any deeper into this, i mean why should i? what did he do about this? how long has this been going on, and ,oh fuck , thats a pillar and my head is gonna raamm into-, wait no its soft, wait its a hand, a familiar one, shit-
I slowly raised my head to see geto by the vending machine with one can of his favourite drink and the other hand as a barrier to my head and the wall. and yet he doesnt frickin spare me a look, why te hell is his head stooped so low.
Walls are everywhere these days huh?,the audacity to joke around right now without even meeting my eye.
"So youre not even gonna look at me?" I blurt out, unexpectedly helpless in my delivery.
As I see him lift his head up very reluctantly and struggle, i find myself doubting everything gojo previously said, miutes ago.
"Whats up y/n". THE NERVE.
"Didnt take you to be a fuckboi Suguru Senpai, following your best friend's steps is it?"
With a confounded expression I saw him squint his eyes and , well that should be a question then.
"You never called, Geto".
His eyes bulged a bit like he wasnt expecting me to care about the things that we did yesterday. I saw him mumble something under his breath while maintaining the good old strained eyebrows.
"What, you dont care about how i feel now that you slept w me?"
I see his expression waver into immediate shock that desperately needed to set some things straight.
"Y/n..you don't know what you're talking about.. please".
No amount of strained expression from him is helping this mixed signal facade that's happening to me. He takes a deep breathe noticing my baffled expression.
"I do. i do care, more than I've done for anyone else. its just.. by the time you were asleep in my...in my arms, gojo had texted. Soo..it worked. Everything worked out. As intended. Or it didnt, and he came to his senses maybe,finally,else, it doesnt make sense. it makes zero sense. i mean why the fuck would someone not know how to treat you? to treat you shouldnt come as a chore or a result of some challenge, its as natural as breathing air, and idk what was with him all this while, but im sure he realises now, so give him a chance, he'll treat you better I'm sure."
"Is that what you want?"
"What..why..why would it matter, what I think" he visibly gulps, confused.
"It matters to me geto, if you care about me, to know that you like me, I don't know geto you messed with my head, I can't get you out of it...i broke up with gojo."
"What..wait. what?" His face couldn't contain the emotions that rollercoastered through his mind.
"Just say it geto, fucking say it. Do you or do you not like me. Shit, why am I even doing this? " I steer away on my heel as an attempt to hide the tears that are about ruin my mascara, until I feel an immediate grab on my wrist, the same soft hands.
"y/nnn, y/nn....how do i tell you this...you have no idea. not a thing. the way i have craved for you, to be with you, the way i have literally felt my blood boil seeing the way my bestfreind treated you. you have no ideaaa. please dont torment me any more than this, shit im sorry, i know, its not your fault. hell you had no idea how i felt. its just. all you had to do was exist ynnn. the way you aree, the way you smile, hold the hemm of gojos shirt when he failed to pay you the attention you more than deserve, the way you gently hit shoko on her shoulders when you laugh, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, the way and fuck the way, the way i saw you yesterday, every inch of you, its etched in my memory, by choice. Fuck, I need some water"
I couldn't contain the happiness that bloomed inside me and I had to do something crazy because he looked just too cute.
" for now i can help you moisten your lips I think", I stand on my toes to reach his open mouth, so confused and wary and place the timid but hungry kiss on it, but within seconds he makes sense of things and grabs me by my waist only to land a kiss that lasted longer than the hourly bell that rang twice or thrice after that.
"Aaargh, this...you're tempting me to do something irredeemable again" he breathes with a glistening red lips messy with the stray tints of my lipstick.
"Let's redeem through it this time then."
The smirk on his lips right then looked more promising than ever.
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Ride 789: Inheriting wishes
Pag 1
3: Yes, I got it! The last one!!
4: Bon apet...
5: What, Kabu, are you eating trash now?
Guaa- the worst person saw me!!
Th- that's not it, this it- uhm....
Pag 2
1: Have mine
3: Nom nom nom, so good!
You worked a lot for the sprint
Good job following on this climbing while resting and resupplying
5: Imaizumi-san is treating a kouhai kindly!!
Hotshot is rewardina kohai!?
I....
Ho....
What is it, I feel a weird atmosphere
Pag 3
1: I received my orders from Onoda-san!!
2: Climb and pull the team
3: Climbing at a fixed pace as much as possible, while watching the condition of tiredness of everyone's pace, synchronizing our breaths
Pag 4
1: It's the least damaging way to climb!!
The pack is coming!
It's Sohoku!
Pag 5
2: Danchiku... this is a good pace
He's good at watching everyone and matching his performance to them
3: You really are his polar opposite
Ah, person who gave me food
4: Rokudai, watch closely
Ye-yessir, teh!!
5: What Danchiku is doing now is the correct way to “pull”
Yessir, teh
You also
6: got your orders, didn't you?
Pag 6
1: From Onoda!!
2: Mountain King and Manami are overtaking the other climbers who had come out!!
Are they going to the lead like that!?
They-
Pag 7
2: What, how, they're so fast....!!
3: Amazing!
So fast!
They're running at an incomprehensible speed
This is a race between the Inter High's
Pag 8
1: two times finalists!?
2: Sakamichi-kun!!
Manami-kun!!
Pag 9
1: It's true, Mountain King and Manami are racing
Yeah, they're fighting seriously
For this year's mountain prize....
2: You seem to be in good condition!!
Yeah!! Manami-kun!!
3: the first day's mountain is gonna be the most amazing!!
4: There's a lot of people in the audience too
Yeah
A huge crowd, the summer air, and the blue sky
Pag 10
1: I wonder if Toudou-san and Makishima-san also felt the wind like this, on Hakone's mountain two years ago!!
2: The sky is blue!!
There's a lot of people in the audience too!!
4: I'm having so much fun chasing after it it feels like I'm in a daze
Pag 11
1: Even though my body is tired and my muscles are exhausted, it feels like my heart is saying “let's go until our limit” and pushing my blood!!
5: Yeah!!
I think Makishima-san and Toudou-san definitely felt like this!!
Pag 12
1: Shooo
Just get ahead of him by a few millimeters
My heart is pounding
Jinpachi!!
Maki-chan!!
2: About the race between them that day, I heard other people saying:
3: “It was fierce”
“It was a race of their souls”
“I saw a battle of the limits of climbers”
Pag 13
1: But looking at their backs, it looked fun
3: Back then we could only imagine it
4: But now, like this
Running against you, who shares the same feeling
Pag 14
1: It's like we can “experience”it!!
3: Yeah!!
Pag 15
2: I didn't think the mountain on the first day was so freeing, that it would make my heart feel so clear
3: It's strange
4: The thing I longed for from the bottom of my heart... my strong wish....
5: even if I couldn't fulfill it at the time
Pag 16
1: it still came true in another form!!
Pag 17
1: You're right!!
Pag 18
1: Mountain King and Manami accelerated again!!
4: The orders!!
Pag 19
1: It's time, go
Switch with Danchiku
2: Pull the team, Rokudai!!
Yessir, teh!!
I received them from
2: Back-gate slope-senpai....
Pag 20
1: My “orders”!!
2: Rokudai-kun
Yessir, teh
3: Please pull the team on the mountain while switching with Danchiku-kun
Yessir, teh!!
4: My first orders.....!!
I'l ldo it with all my strength
Actually
5: I wanted to say “please climb the mountain together with me”
8: Huh!? Together!? The mountain!?
9: When I was in first year, I didn't see the race between Makishima-san and Toudou-san
10: …. so
Onoda....!!
For Rokudai-kun
Pag 21
1: I wanted him to see the race between me and Manami-kun as a first year climber
2: Onoda-kun
3: But it'a not as easy as taking him along to race together
4: If I don't refine my thoughts I'll never catch up with Manami-kun as he is now!!
6: That's why I have another order for you, Rokudai-kun
Another one...!!
7: Look up at the mountain
Send your heart out to the road before you
Pag 22
1: Imagine it with everything you have!! Our
2: our fight to our limits!!
Their fight!!
Pag 23
3: Back-gate slope-senpai!!
Then... on your first year... or your second year- when you'll have a rival....
4: A ri-rival!? Me!?
5: Hakogaku caught up!!
Pag 24
4: Remember about today, please
5: Ah... the guy who came on Minegayama with Manami-san...
Is this guy really the manager....!?
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Kit! I'm obsessed with your writing!
For the prompt list: 25!
(prompt list)
i don't think i've ever done this prompt/this combination!
25. librarian/avid reader au (sort of)
(2.6k)
As a Jedi who rarely goes undercover, Obi-Wan is used to the occasional stare. Citizens of the Republic are all too often fascinated by the Jedi, and Obi-Wan knows he looks like a holo-perfect one. His choice of wardrobe rarely deviates from Jedi standard, and he’s been told he radiates the sort of complete inner peace that people associate with Jedi. It’s all very flattering and it mostly means that it is impossible for him not to be made as a Jedi the moment he steps out of the Temple.
So he’s rather used to the occasional stare from civilians. It’s almost to be expected.
He is much less used to that sort of attention within the Temple.
Especially within the Archives, where general practice and observation of decorum demands that all who are present must keep their noses out of everyone else’s business. Jedi do not come to the Archives to chat. They come to research, to learn, to study.
They certainly do not come to the Archives to gawp at other more respectable Jedi.
Obi-Wan tries to convey this in the glare he sends across the cavernous reading room to the padawan currently watching him from between the stacks of datapads.
It must work because the padawan’s eyes widen and then he ducks out of sight, disappearing in a flash of lilac robes, the color of fabric denoting an Archival padawan.
Huh.
He’s never drawn the ire of the Archival Jedi before, and he doesn’t quite understand what he could have done now. After all, he is waist-deep in a research project for Grandmaster Yoda—he is in the Archives almost every day of the week and makes a point to abide all of the Archive’s customs and rules.
When Obi-Wan leaves a few hours later, daily notes carefully tucked away in a bag and two datapads on loan, he checks with the droid that scans the serials on the ‘pads, but the droid has no record of Obi-Wan Kenobi possessing an overdue ‘pad or flimsi-book.
It’s strange.
But then, padawans are strange creatures. Probably why Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’ll ever have one himself.
—-------------
Three days later, he returns to the Archives, one datapad in his bag for return.
It’d looked promising on the shelf, a database containing different accounts of the oral history of Jedha, but upon further perusal, it had been useless to his needs. What Obi-Wan was researching—what he needed to find were descriptions of the earliest Jedi on Jedha. The growth of two factions inside that temple, told from an outsider’s point of view.
What he needed to find was a description of the beginning of the Sith, and that was proving difficult.
He deposits the datapad at the droid’s counter, tapping his fingers along the surface for a moment in thought before he turns to stride deeper into the Archives. He supposes—there are planets outside of Jedha with histories heavy in Sith ideology. He does not have to start with Jedha, even if that’s where the Sith Order began.
He can pull a list of the most notorious Sith lords; he can note down their homeworlds, perhaps request Council permission to travel to those planets. To understand the past, one must understand the present too—or the nearer decades of history at the very least.
It’s a place to start, anyway.
Two hours later, he has neatly copied down the names, titles, and homeworlds of six different Sith lords.
And then he runs into a problem. His search of the Sith Lord Plagueius results in a short missive from the database:
>> User: OWKenobi, ACCESS has been denied. Your activity has been flagged as SUSPICIOUS.
Obi-Wan’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks around himself, half wondering if anyone else is experiencing the same sort of problem.
But the group of Initiates closeby seem to be carrying along fine, giggling quietly to themselves as they pick at the keyboards in front of them.
Obi-Wan frowns and turns back to his own keyboard, deleting the name of the Sith lord and typing in another’s. Darth Feindan, a ruthless Sith who had lived close to five hundred years ago, known as the ghost of the Outer Rim and known for—
>> User: OWKenobi, ACCESS has been denied. Your activity has been flagged as SUSPICIOUS.
Alright. Fine. Darth Derritus. He had risen to power a thousand years before, because of—
>> User: OWKenobi, ACCESS has been denied. Your activity has been flagged as SUSPICIOUS.
“What?” Obi-Wan murmurs to himself, putting down his stylus finally to stare at the locked screen.
When he drags the cursor across the screen, a new message pops up.
User: OWKenobi, your account has been LOCKED. Please see SYSTEM ADMIN for SUPPORT.
He blows out a shocked, annoyed breath, standing from his desk. Alright. Obviously there’s been some sort of mistake, and Obi-Wan can sort of understand what’s happened. The Sith are not much of a threat to the Jedi Order in this day and age, but they’re still considered rather…taboo.
Obviously, his purely academic interest was flagged as suspicious because of the nature of some Jedi attitudes towards the remnants of the Sith.
All he’ll have to do is talk with the Archival staff and get his access back. Perhaps Jocasta Nu is present today. He will tell her of the error, that he has been assigned a research project by the Grandmaster Yoda, and she will straighten things out.
Yes, she’ll handle it completely.
Only it’s not Master Nu behind the Archival desk when Obi-Wan approaches the front entrance.
It’s the same lilac-clad padawan that Obi-Wan had caught glaring at him all those days ago.
And to make matters worse, the boy is glaring at him again, watching him approach with his arms crossed over his chest.
Obi-Wan fights the urge to glare back. He is an accomplished Jedi Knight, and this is a youngling.
Well, not a youngling. He is obviously a senior padawan, braid long enough to reach past his shoulder and rest over his heart. Obi-Wan would put him at perhaps eighteen, perhaps twenty. There’s something still rather boyish about his features, despite the overall pleasantness of his dark eyes, soft lips, apparent cheekbones.
Though that just may be the childish scowl he’s wearing as Obi-Wan approaches. As soon as he gets to the counter, however, the boy drops his eyes to the book in front of him as if it’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
“Hello,” Obi-Wan says, because he is an accomplished Jedi Knight who is capable of keeping annoyance out of his tone. “I seem to have run into a problem with my research.”
“Oh?” The senior padawan says, sounding somehow both insouciant and insolent.
Obi-Wan bites on his tongue so he cannot say any of the first five things that pop into his mind. “Yes,” he says instead. “The problem being that a system administrator seems to have locked me out of my account.”
The system administrator in question turns another page in his book. “What were you researching?”
“Information that I as a Jedi Knight have the right to access,” Obi-Wan snaps, irritation seeping into his tone despite his best abilities. “Now can you please give me back my account permissions, padawan—” he breaks off and cranes his head to look at the nameplate on the desk. “—Skywalker so that I can get back to work?”
Padawan Skywalker shuts his book with much more force than is required as he turns his face up to glare at Obi-Wan. “You’re researching the Dark Side.”
“I’m certainly trying my best to,” Obi-Wan replies drily. “It would go a lot faster if you would unlock my account.”
“Why are you researching the Dark side?”
“Because I’m deliberating the benefits of Falling and would like to understand their position on universal healthcare for Dark side users before committing, padawan. Now, could—”
“You’re not funny,” Padawan Skywalker says furiously, lips suddenly pinched white, taking his book and his bag and turning away.
Obi-Wan watches him go with his mouth open.
Well, he supposes that means he must put a pin in researching the Dark side for the moment.
Good thing he has just stumbled upon another subject worth investigating.
—--------------------
He feels rather sheepish the next day when he returns to the Archives with a cup of take-away caf in one hand and folded piece of flimsi in the other.
Thank the Force Padawan Skywalker is behind the front desk once more.
Damn the Force that Padawan Skywalker is behind the front desk once more.
He’s leaning with his head on the palm of his hand, pushing his stylus around on a blank sheet of paper with the Force as his other fingers drum restlessly over the protective covers of the datapads near him.
“Does your master allow you to use the Force in such a needless way, padawan?” Obi-Wan is saying automatically before he can bite his own tongue off which really would have been preferable.
Anakin Skywalker lets the stylus drop and glares up at him as if he thinks so as well. “What are you doing back here?” He says, an accusation.
Obi-Wan, because he may be more of a youngling than he gives himself credit for, says, “This is a public place.”
And Anakin Skywalker, who is every inch a nineteen year old child, sneers and replies, “Maybe for people with account access,” which really just makes Obi-Wan want to close his eyes and take several deep breaths and then pinch at the bridge of his nose.
But he cannot do that, because he’s holding a piece of flimsi paper in one hand and a cup of apology caf in the other one.
So instead he places the caf on the counter and pushes it closer to Anakin. “I didn’t recognize you,” he says before Anakin can decide to throw it at him or push it away or point out the sign at the entrance to the Archives that says, in very bold letters, NO FOOD OR DRINK PLEASE.
Thankfully, Obi-Wan’s words throw him off guard. “What?”
“Yesterday,” Obi-Wan says patiently. “I didn’t recognize you nor your name. I’m sorry, Anakin.”
Anakin blinks. For the first time in ten years, Obi-Wan is treated with the sight of the boy’s face without a glare or sneer or unpleasant expression. He’s all wide-eyed disbelief, slightly parted lips, dark eyelashes, darker brows, creased in confusion.
Obi-Wan suddenly and very intently misses the sneer. At least then the boy was too annoying to be considered attractive.
He’s much too young to be considered attractive now, Obi-Wan reminds himself rather pointedly.
And he’s still annoying.
“It’s been ten years,” Anakin points out. His presence in the Force has turned rather…shy, akin to a blush as he reaches out and takes the caf from the counter, curling both hands around the cup. “And we never met.”
“No,” Obi-Wan agrees. “But we should have. We would have shared the same master, if the Force were kinder.”
And they really should have—Obi-Wan had been Knighted at the age of twenty-three. Two years later, his old master went on a mission with his old master to Naboo. When they’d ended up on Tatooine instead, Qui-Gon Jinn had found a stray he’d wanted to adopt, a little boy from the desert. And when he’d been murdered only a few days later, Yan Dooku had stepped in and taken the boy as his padawan.
Up until he left the Order four years ago.
“Yeah, well,” Anakin mutters, shoulders falling down and in slightly. “It is what it is.”
The rumors are impossible to escape, and Obi-Wan admits that they’re…intriguing. That Dooku didn’t just leave the Order four years ago, but that he Fell. That he succumbed to the Dark Side after years of fighting against it. That studying the Dark had become a fevered pastime of his in the last few months before he Fell. Before he left.
Before he left his padawan behind.
“Lilac suits you,” Obi-Wan blurts out, wholly without meaning to. The boy had just looked so despondent for a moment, so pinned and small.
He has not had an easy lot of it, one master dead at the hands of a Sith after only a few days in his company and the other giving him up after several years to become one.
No wonder he’d been so suspicious of Obi-Wan’s research. The poor boy probably sees the potential for Sith in everyone’s shadows. Obi-Wan knows he would, if it were his master who Fell.
“Um,” Anakin says, and his cheeks flame red. Obi-Wan’s own darken in response. “Thank you.” He darts his eyes from Obi-Wan’s face and then back, as if he doesn’t want to look away for long. “Master Nu took me on after my master—left. She says I could become an Archival Knight within a few years.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and he finds that he means it. Despite the boy’s terrible customer service. “And speaking of the Archives, padawan, I thought you might like to see this.”
He unfolds the piece of flimsi with a flourish and places it down on the counter between them. Anakin glances down at it and then back up, as if checking to make sure Obi-Wan would like him to read it.
Obi-Wan gives him an encouraging nod. Padawan Skywalker seems like the sort of padawan to thrive under encouragement.
“Please reinstate Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Archival account access, as I as Grandmaster of the Jedi Order have given him leave to research a topic of great importance to me: the nature and nurture of Dark side use on Jedha, coordinates….” Anakin trails off, and then looks up at Obi-Wan again, eyebrows furrowed. “Yoda doesn’t talk like this, everyone knows that. Put more effort in your counterfeiting, you should have, Knight Kenobi.”
“Grandmaster Yoda did not write that,” Obi-Wan corrects. “I did. However, he did sign it,” he gestures to the edge of the flimsi.
But Anakin does not look impressed. He also does not look like a boy who is about to give Obi-Wan access to his accounts. “How do I know you didn’t just forge his signature?”
“Because that’s the imprint of his hand,” Obi-Wan says incredulously. “And I do not have claws.”
“It looks like a pigeon’s foot,” Anakin studies the flimsi for another second before pushing it away. “I’m sorry, I can’t accept this. It’s obviously a fake.”
Obi-Wan had watched Yoda dip his claws into the ink for the signature himself. His irritation comes rushing back in a tidal wave of rage. “What.”
Padawan Skywalker shrugs and sips his caf. “Sorry, Knight Kenobi. Thank you for the caf though.”
There’s a fucking smirk at the corner of his mouth. His eyes are fucking twinkling.
Obi-Wan has never wanted to strangle someone more. “You don’t deserve that caf,” he tells him lowly, grabbing up the flimsi and crinkling it in his fist.
“Oh?” Padawan Skywalker says. “Was it a bribe? I thought it was an apology for being a dick yesterday.”
It was both actually.
“Padawan Skywalker,” Obi-Wan says, closing his eyes and exhaling through his nose, reaching for calm. “I need access to those texts on the Dark side for important research.”
“Knight Kenobi,” Anakin says in the same tone. “I cannot give you access to those texts while your account is under investigation for suspicious activity. However there are other titles you may find useful that you can access while you wait for the Archival staff to conclude their investigation, and I would be happy to point you towards them, should you like.”
Obi-Wan’s teeth ache from clenching his jaw so tightly. “Fine,” he snaps. “What do you have?”
“Methods for Mindful Meditation by Master Muinollie comes to mind,” Anakin blinks up at him with a beatific smile. “It’s currently on loan to the crechèmaster, but I can put you on the waitlist. Think of it like an exercise in patience.”
Obi-Wan lets out an audible growl and turns away before he can do something stupid like throttle his grandmaster’s old padawan.
It's almost as tempting as the boy looks when he smiles.
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