#or if it wasn't clear enough + warranted pointing out

[trickstersaint]

guilt, or; i imagine myself lady macbeth behind a confessional screen // january 23 2023

[kentobb]

The Bet

Characters: College! Sukuna x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Suggestive (in MeiMei’s part)

Author’s note: Look… I miss the wattpad kind of stories, ok?

Part 02 Part 03 Part 04 Part 05 Part 06 Part 07 Part 08

Ryomen Sukuna is a force of nature on the basketball court, his movements precise and powerful, each play calculated and executed with ruthless efficiency. His reputation as one of the most popular guys in college was well-earned, not just for his athletic prowess but also for his charisma and the magnetic presence that drew people to him. His imposing stature, marked by a lithe, muscular frame and a face that seemed perpetually set in a mix of boredom and amusement, only added to his allure. Yet beneath the surface, Sukuna a man of dualities, balancing his athletic pursuits with a rigorous academic schedule as a finance major, preparing to take over his father's sprawling business empire alongside his brothers, Choso and Yuuji.

As Sukuna settled into his seat for one of his finance classes, he glanced around the room, searching for his usual group of friends, the "bros" he did most of his projects with. His gaze fell on Professor Amano, who was already launching into a monologue about the importance of collaboration and real-world application. Sukuna's attention drifted, his mind wandering to the next basketball game, the next strategy meeting with his brothers. It wasn't until Professor Amano's voice sharpened with the announcement of assigned partners for the upcoming project that Sukuna snapped back to attention.

"Ryomen Sukuna," the professor's voice rang out, "you'll be working with Y/N.”

A collective murmur rippled through the room. Sukuna's eyes narrowed as he scanned the rows of desks. Y/N. The name was vaguely familiar, but not in the way his friends names were. Then he spotted you: a quiet girl sitting near the back, partially hidden and a stack of books that seemed almost as tall as you were.

You were the type of person Sukuna had always dismissed as unimportant, background noise in the cacophony of his life. He had seen you in the library, absorbed in your studies, nose buried in books while he and his friends joked and laughed nearby. He had noticed you walking alone on campus, steps light and your eyes focused on some distant point, lost in your own world. You were like a ghost, drifting through the peripheries of his vision, never drawing enough attention to warrant a second glance.

Now, you are his partner.

Suppressing a groan, Sukuna stood and made his way to the back of the room. As he approached, you looked up, your eyes wide and slightly wary. You were plain, in an understated way, with large, expressive eyes and a delicate frame that seemed almost fragile. There was a quiet intensity about you, a depth that Sukuna couldn't quite place but found himself intrigued by despite himself.

He continued walking towards you, still observing. You were different, that much was clear. As he got closer, he realized he had been staring.

Your doe-like eyes meeting his, wide and a bit startled.

Sukuna quickly tried to play it off. "Uh, you have something on your forehead."

Your eyes widened in embarrassment, and you immediately started brushing at your forehead, clearly flustered. "Oh, um, did I get it?"

Sukuna smirked, shaking his head. "Yeah, you're good."

He sat down across from you, still amused by your reaction. "What's your name?"

"Y/N…” you replied, your voice soft but clear.

"I'm Sukuna. Ryomen Sukuna," he said, expecting a flicker of recognition or at least some reaction to his name. Instead, you simply nodded and immediately pulled out the project guidelines.

"So, for our project," you began, "I was thinking we could analyze a smaller company. It might be easier to get detailed information and understand their financial strategies."

Sukuna was momentarily taken aback. You weren’t flustered by him? Nor was trying to impress him?

You went straight to the point, focused entirely on the task at hand. It was... unexpected. He had anticipated some level of interest or at least the usual star-struck reaction he got from most girls. Instead, you seemed almost indifferent, entirely engrossed in the project.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he finally said, shaking off his surprise. "That sounds like a solid plan."

You nodded, jotting down notes. "Great. We should meet up in the library later to start gathering resources and outline our approach."

As you continued discussing the project, Sukuna couldn't help but feel a bit disoriented. You, Y/N, weren’t what he had expected at all. You are focused, determined, and completely unfazed by him. And for the first time in a long time, Sukuna finds himself intrigued by someone who seemed entirely uninterested in his popularity.

You both arranged to meet later that day in the library. As Sukuna made his way through the bustling campus, he found his thoughts drifting back to you. There was something about your quiet intensity that piqued his curiosity. You weren’t trying to impress him or win his favor; you were just yourself, unapologetically so.

The library was quieter than usual when he arrived, the hushed atmosphere creating a stark contrast to the lively campus outside. He spotted you at a table near the back, already surrounded by a stack of books and your laptop. You were scribbling furiously in a notebook, your brow furrowed in concentration.

"Hey," Sukuna greeted, taking a seat across from you.

You looked up briefly and nodded. "Hi. I found a few resources that might be useful for our project. Here, take a look."

You pushed a few books and articles towards him, your demeanor completely professional. Sukuna took the materials, flipping through them as he tried to shake off the odd sense of disorientation he felt around you.

"So," he said, trying to make conversation, "how come I haven't seen you around much before?"

You shrugged, your eyes still on your notes. "I- I don’t know. I’m always here studying…”

Sukuna nodded, not entirely surprised. "Makes sense. You seem pretty focused..."

"I try to be," you replied, finally looking up at him. "I want to make sure we do well on this project."

Sukuna found himself studying your face again, noticing the subtle determination in your eyes. "You're really serious about this, huh?"

"Of course," you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "A good grade on this project could make a big difference."

He couldn't help but be impressed by your dedication. Most people he knew, himself included, didn't approach their studies with this level of seriousness. "Yeah, I get that," he said. "I guess I should thank you for keeping us on track."

Your lips quirked into a small smile. "Just doing my part."

As you continued speaking about the project, your voice steady and full of conviction, Sukuna found his mind drifting. He watched you, taking in the details he hadn't noticed before. Your long sleeves hid your arms completely, the oversized sweater hanging loosely on your frame. Your long pants and well-worn Converse sneakers added to the effect, making you seem almost invisible. He could barely see your body, save for the slender column of your neck. It was almost like you didn’t want to be seen.

Your words flowed smoothly as you outlined the plan, your eyes lighting up with enthusiasm whenever you discussed a particularly interesting point. But Sukuna focus was divided. Part of him was listening to you talk about financial strategies and analysis, but another part was trying to read you, to understand why someone would go to such lengths to remain unnoticed.

Your eyes flicked to him occasionally, as if checking to make sure he was following along, but you didn't seem to notice his distracted gaze. Your hands moved animatedly as you talked, slender fingers tapping on the table for emphasis. You were clearly passionate about the project, but Sukuna couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more of you than this quiet, studious exterior.

Finally, you wrapped up the discussion. You gathered your things, slipping your notebook and pens into a well-worn backpack. "So, we’ll meet tomorrow afternoon to start compiling our research?" You confirmed, looking at him expectantly.

"Yeah, sounds good," Sukuna replied, forcing his attention back to the project. "I'll see you then.

Sukuna stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder, watching as you disappeared into the crowd. A few of his friends called out to him, waving him over to join their conversation, but he found himself hesitating. He couldn't stop thinking about you, about the way you seemed to fade into the background while holding so much within you.

He had always been surrounded by people, his life filled with noise and activity. But now, watching you walk away, he felt a strange pull towards the quietness you embodied. You were like a puzzle, each piece hidden beneath layers of oversized clothes and a reserved demeanor, and he found himself wanting to understand you more.

As he made his way out of the library he saw you turn the corner towards the dorms. He could have followed you, but he held back, respecting your space for now. There would be plenty of time to learn more about you as you worked on the project together.

The weekend arrived, and Sukuna's apartment transformed into the campus hotspot. The music blasted from the speakers, and the pulsating beat seemed to resonate through the walls. Laughter and chatter filled the air, and the living room was crowded with students dancing, talking, and enjoying themselves. Sukuna, typically at the center of it all, found himself drifting to the edges, his eyes scanning the room for one particular face: You.

He wove through the throng of people, nodding and smiling at familiar faces, but he couldn't spot you anywhere. He paused by the kitchen, grabbing a drink and leaning against the counter, lost in thought. Did you not know you were invited? Everyone on campus knew about the party; word had spread like wildfire. But then again, this wasn't really your scene. The loud music, the throngs of people – it was the complete opposite of the quiet, studious environment you preferred.

As he pondered this, Mei Mei, the cheerleader captain, caught his eye. She was standing with a group of friends, but her gaze was locked on him. Her confident smile and flirtatious look were unmistakable. She sauntered over, her hips swaying with each step, and leaned against the counter next to him.

"Hey, Suku" she purred, her voice barely audible over the music. "Having fun?"

"Always," he replied with a smirk. "What about you?"

"Oh, you know me," she said, leaning closer. "I always find a way to have fun."

They exchanged a few more words, the conversation laced with flirtation. Mei Mei leaned in, murmuring something in his ear that made him chuckle. He knew exactly where this was heading. With a smirk, he took her hand and led her through the crowd towards his room.

As they made their way through the party, Sukuna's thoughts momentarily drifted back to you. But why? Why you? You’re just… a random girl he is working a project with. He just had hoped you might step out of the comfort zone and show up, even if just for a little while. But deep down, he knew this wasn’t your vibe. The library, with its hushed tones and stacks of books, was more your speed.

When they reached his room, he closed the door behind them, shutting out the noise and chaos of the party. His mind focused on the present moment, and he let himself be distracted by Mei Mei, at least for a little while.

Hours later, as the party continued to rage on outside, Sukuna found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Mei Mei was already asleep beside him, her breathing slow and steady. Despite the noise and the energy still buzzing through his apartment.

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of parties, hangovers, and half-hearted attempts at studying. Sukuna couldn't help but wonder what you had been doing instead. Studying, probably. Or maybe you had spent time at the library, like you mentioned during your conversation. The thought of you enjoying a quiet, serene day by the library brought a small smile on his face.

Monday rolled around, and the campus was abuzz with talk of his party. Everyone was raving about how wild it had been, and people were already asking when the next one would be. Sukuna nodded along, playing the part of the cool, popular guy, but his mind was elsewhere.

When he entered the classroom, he immediately spotted you in your own usual seat at the back. Already engrossed in your notes, completely oblivious to the buzz of conversation around you. Sukuna frowned slightly, realizing he hadn’t seen you at the party. He wondered if you hadn’t known about it or if you had simply chosen not to come. It seemed like everyone had been invited, after all.

Sukuna made his way over to her and dropped into the seat next to her. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice still a bit rough from the weekend.

You looked up, blinking in surprise. “Hi,” you replied, then immediately started pulling out your notes and materials for the project.

You launched into a detailed explanation of the research you had gathered, focus entirely on the task at hand. You talked about financial strategies and market analysis, not once veering into anything personal. It was as if the wild weekend and his social status didn’t exist in your world. This bothered Sukuna more than he cared to admit.

“Hey, I didn’t see you at my party,” Sukuna interjected, cutting you off mid-sentence.

You looked at him, expression neutral. “That’s not really my scene.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Not your scene? What’s your vibe then?”

You paused, your eyes drifting away for a moment, wondering why the famous and popular Sukuna took interest in that fact. “I guess… not that?”

Sukuna stared at you, completely bewildered. “Uh...perhaps you should try it?”

You shrugged, your demeanor calm and collected. “No, but thanks Sukuna.” You smiled, “I’ve finished my part of the project. I just need your input so we can compile everything.”

Sukuna nodded, still trying to process your turn down. “Yeah, that’s cool. I’ll get my stuff together.”

Sukuna headed to basketball practice. The gym was alive with the sounds of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor, the thud of the ball hitting the ground, and the chatter of his teammates. As he entered the locker room, he could hear them talking about the weekend and other random stuff.

"Man, that party was insane," Geto said, shaking his head as he laced up his sneakers.

"Yeah, still can't believe you drank that whole keg, Geto," Todo added, giving Geto a playful shove.

Geto grinned, rubbing his head sheepishly. "What can I say? I was thirsty!"

As Sukuna joined them, Geto looked up and smirked. "Hey, Sukuna. How's that project going? Heard you didn't get paired with Nanami this time."

The rest of the team burst into laughter, enjoying the ribbing. Sukuna rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, yeah. I got stuck with the nerd."

Gojo, ever the instigator, leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I bet behind all those big clothes, there's someone hot."

The group fell silent for a moment before bursting into laughter and wild speculation. "Yeah, she could be hiding a killer body under there," Todo chimed in, winking.

"Maybe she's secretly a model," Gojo added, chuckling.

"Guys, seriously?" Sukuna groaned, but he couldn't help but laugh along with them. The whole situation was ridiculous.

Gojo, never one to let an opportunity for chaos pass by, continued to prod. "Come on, Sukuna. You like her, don't you?"

Sukuna rolled his eyes, feeling the weight of their collective gaze. "She's not my type, alright? I don't go for girls like her.”

"Oh really?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on his lips. "I bet you can't pull her. That's some big game, and you always go for the easy ones."

The locker room erupted in laughter and shouts, the noise bouncing off the walls. Sukuna felt the pressure mounting as his teammates egged him on, their immature antics reaching new heights.

"Yeah, Sukuna, she's out of your league!" Geto teased, his face split into a wide grin.

"Sukuna's got no game!" Todo added, doubling over with laughter.

Sukuna took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "It's not that I can't pull her. I just don't see any win in that."

Gojo's eyes sparkled with mischief as he stepped closer. "Alright, how about this: I bet you a hundred bucks you can't hook up with her."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Now we're talking."

The locker room exploded with cheers and laughter as the bet was made. Sukuna felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. He couldn't back down now, not with everyone watching.

As he walked into the classroom, he spotted you in your usual seat, your nose buried in a book. He felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. He approached you and sat down next to you, greeting you with a casual, "Hey."

You looked up, offering him a polite smile. "Hi."

He needed to think of something, anything and— “I was wondering if you could help me with my part of the project,” he said, trying to sound casual.

You blinked, clearly surprised by the request. “Sure. What do you need help with?”

“I’m a bit stuck on the research,” he lied, hoping you would buy it. “I was thinking maybe we could meet up later to work on it.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “We can meet at the library.”

Sukuna cursed inwardly but kept his cool. “Yeah, the library sounds good. What time?”

“How about five?” she suggested.

“Perfect,” he replied, smiling. “See you then.”

Class went on, and Sukuna could barely concentrate. He glanced at you every now and then, wondering how he was going to pull this off. You were like a fortress, and he needed a battering ram.

After class, Sukuna walked out, trying to shake off the morning’s frustration. He spotted Gojo leaning against a wall, smirking as he saw you walking in the opposite direction.

"Hey, Sukuna!” Gojo called out, a wide grin plastered on his face. “How’s the project with Miss Goodie two shoes going?”

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “It’s going fine, Gojo.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, glancing at your retreating figure. “Sure looks like it. She’s practically sprinting away from you.”

The other guys from the team started gathering around, sensing another opportunity to roast Sukuna.

“What’s the matter, Sukuna? Did she turn you down for a study date?” Todo asked, laughing.

Sukuna sighed. “We’re meeting at the library.”

Gojo’s grin widened. “Oh, the library! How romantic. Did she at least agree to sit next to you?”

The guys burst into laughter, and Sukuna couldn’t help but smile despite himself. “You’re all idiots.”

Gojo clapped Sukuna on the back. “Come on, man. You’ve got to step up your game. Maybe try actually talking to her instead of just staring like a creep.”

Geto nodded, still chuckling. “Yeah, maybe bring her a coffee or something. Girls like that, right?”

Sukuna smirked, shaking his head. “Whatever, guys. You’ll see. I’ve got this.”

Gojo leaned in, lowering his voice but making sure everyone could still hear. “You know, if you actually manage to pull this off, I’ll be impressed. But until then, you’re just the guy who got turned down for a library date.”

The group dissolved into laughter again, and Sukuna couldn’t help but laugh along. It was all in good fun, but he felt a renewed determination. He was going to win this bet, not just for the money, but to prove he could do it.

[ouiouimochi]

Imagine what's it like to date him

takes place after this one

pairing/s: soshiro hoshina x reader

genre: romance, fluff, established relationship

wc: 677 thats a miracle for me to write below 1k words wtf

warnings: swearing, crack, half serious in the latter portion , wonky phone format

✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑

when word spread around that you two were dating, the whole base was buzzing with gossip

kafka being kafka, hes literally confused and says “so they've never been dating all this time?”

as much as the recruits were thinking of the same thing, kikoru wouldn't have wanted to admit that an idiot like kafka wasn't as stupid and blind as she thought he was

funnily enough the interactions between you and soshiro prior to dating warranted enough attention that some people thought you two had something going on

heck captain ashiro and okonogi were lowkey waiting for this moment even though they don't know how it got to develop under their radars. let's hope they don't discover how — you'd rather be eaten by a kaiju than face both of your superiors if they find out

now onto the main part with the man himself

he would be very sweet in general, teasing you here and there— making references from your works while other people knew nothing about the context

you've mentioned to him that you'd stop writing now that you two were together, but he disagrees. if anything, he wanted you to write more

he really enjoys your works

we love a supportive man

if anything, he uses them as his reference as to what you wanted— you being shy and unable to straight out say them sometimes

he gave you a sweet little wildflower at the side of the road in one of your fics? he'd give you a whole bouquet without you asking

oh, fictional him gave you a cute little peck on the cheek before you parted? he'd pepper your whole face with them, ending with a long smooch on the lips

you were absolutely winded at the end lmao

he also liked driving you into almost heart attacks at how he naturally reenacts some of your fics— he never had any problems with doing them since he's actually very likely to act that way in real life

he would try prove a point how he's better than the fanfic him you wrote— wanting to exceed your expectations of him

yes you got his personality down to the core enough to write him with scary accuracy but the man has his pride too

but again and again, he never fails to go along with your fics

he never just never meets at the threshold, he just goes beyond it— he was just that type of man

during times where you two had to be away from each other for awhile, you cope with writing fics again

he lowkey highkey gets jealous of this fictional soshiro you were writing about cuz he literally wasnt there to make your current fantasies a reality

he gets very antsy at the thought but would definitely spoil you again with affection when you two meet again

you'd most likely write a fic for him on your anniversary

"what's this? you'd like me to enact it with u?” he'd say in the middle of reading through

he kind of misunderstood. you only meant to show your appreciation and adoration of him. he took it as a challenge— not that you were complaining that he made it a reality

" this is it?" he flips the paper to see if there's more but there's none to his disappointment. Then you asked him whats wrong and he asks where the smut part is. he'd go creative ig at that point

warning: do not scroll further if you're uncomfy with suggestive content, finely borders nsfw

imagine sexy time with you absolutely loving the experience— quite the closeted person you were, but damn who knew someone as innocent looking like you had bedroom preferences like that?

freaky

so enjoying the devil's tango with soshiro, he's gonna tease u by asking "does this feel like how u imagined it?”

you'd be too far gone but still try to talk, ending up stumbling over your words

"be more clear, sweetheart”

"it's so much b-better!”

and weewoo he just absolutely adores you— continuing the hoo-ha

absolutely cannot bring myself to write smut, I will throw myself off the cliff in my backyard in the process if I somehow end up doing so

[ikkosu]

G1 prowl. I don't know where I'm going with with this. Mention of 'suggestive stuff but it's not explicit.' hrhrghrhhhrh

IT was a fine evening that night in his habsuite. As usual, the lights are turned off; room shrouded dim with the only illumination apparent is the iridescent glow from the desk lamp that tugged an ache in his optics.

He persevered, however. No matter how uncomfortable the ache pulsed. Bent over the desk, he skimmed through the expense protocols from this morning's briefings. It wasn't usually his position to handle the funds. The most he's got his hands on is managing the military expenditure, ensuring nothing is nicked during the process. But given the mech prior his employment had handled the situation indelicately, 'usually', he's now tasked with the errand to do so.

Another one of the many issues he'll have to sort through. As if being the tactician isn't enough. Not only will he have to spend weeks formulating battle plans but also play side-hustle as a financier.

Ultra Magnus expected the finished product the end of this week. Unfortunately for him, he'll give it seven days prior.

Footsteps patter in front of the door. He's too fixated on a misspelling to hear it slide open. (Is it so hard to not miss the other 'i' in Liaison?) And when his proximity sensor does register — swivelling around in surprise, the chastise lodged in his throat is cut short when a forty Cybertronians isn't in his view - but tipping his helm down is your minuscule form on the floor.

You peered back up, features twisted in solemn ire. Nose scrunched, lips down turned. Eyes distraught.

"You look..." He tried to find the word. When he couldn't he settled on something less severe he winced out. "...unhappy."

You sighed. "You have no idea."

With a slight tilt of his helm, he crouches to your level and curls out a servo. It didn't take long to waddle onto the palm, clutching the thumb to keep yourself balanced as he raises himself. You blinked when the thumb you're holding moves, pressing against your cheek then back and forth against the skin. You leaned into the touch and nuzzled the ridge.

"I was in trouble.” You spoke after a moment.

Prowl raises a brow. Oh? Trouble? You're not usually the worst ones. Worst are the twins. Along with an occasional Smokescreen and Hot rod thrown into the mix.

"That seems a little vague." He says, ploddings towards his desk.

"Hardly. It's just a little scolding I've got from ultra Magnus."

" What did you do to warrants such a transgression from the commander? Nothing too severe, I suppose?"

"That's for Wheeljack to decide. All I did was follow what the twins told me to do.

He sets you on the table, turning around to sort his datapads while you brought your legs to your chest, crossing your arms and perching your chin on top of it.

"Twins?" He frowned, tossing aside a datapad that read: Base Report #096.

"Sunstreaker? Sideswipe? The twins?" You list off. "...Don't tell me you forgot them too."

"I've got better things to remember." He tosses aside another report. Battle plans. Classified information. Blueprints.A digit points to his helm. “ Hard copies are unreliable. They're easily taken advantage of if not stored safely. That is why it is essential my processors are clear of any 'irrelevant' information."

You rolled your eyes. “Right. Red black. Yellow black. I don't see how hard it is for you to remember primary colors."

"Perceptor is also red and black."

"But you remember him."

"Only because he is my direct liaison to the Scientific district." Prowl turns halfway to you and you can see the quirk of a smile. "He's worth remembering." A pause. “And I suppose," He goes back to his desk. "You are too."

Silence. Prowl's door wings flick up straight as he fully faces you. You observed the unusual blue hue on his cheeks, though. Are those...?

"What did they tell you?" He asked, organizing the datapads

There was a pause as you observed him for a moment.

"Promise me you won't laugh."

He shoots you a look. "I don't laugh.”

"You do."

"Only when it's necessary."

"That's a 'somtime."

"A probability close to half."

You groaned. "Its just some stupid joke they've managed to rook me into. Tell me, what the hell does frag mean?"

His door wings flick up, just as his lips does. " Why, its an equivalent to your, ah, well — equivalent to the curse word—"

" Fuck?" You finish for him since it was obvious Prowl would take a lifetime to enunciate that word.

"How...tragic."

"Oh, please—"

"I'm going to assume they've tricked you into uttering it beside the commander?"

You crawled towaeds him, "They said it means rest! Can you believe that? Everytime I needed a break they told me to use 'frag' since it practically means the same! Except Cybertronian? Can you imagine the humiliation when I realized ice been going around telling bots that I need a frag? To everyone?!"

He scoops you up into his servos,and you noticed the surface lightly shook. You look up and is greeted by the crescent crease of his optics.

"Laugh and I'll pour water on your datapads."

He starts moving again, still unable to hide his sounds of amusement. " I admit that's a little—"

" It's terrible!"

"Yes, very terrible." Prowl sits on the edge of the berth, adjusting his position as he leans back, you perched on his chassis. " You have my condolences."

" Now, everyone thinks I'm some player with a desire to bag all bots in this base!" You hid your face into your palms. The memories of this morning resurfaces and the burn sears into a scalding heat. "This is— they're not even my type.....i don't even— ugh. Take me, now."

"Not unless you've taken the lives of the twins first."

You look up. Prowl is looking down softly.

"Oh, I will." You crawl up, tucking yourself under his chin. "Tommorow. They're never going to escape."

"An apple for an eye?" His voice rumbles as he spoke. A digit curls out and rubs your back.

"A paint job for a paint job." You leaned close into the cables of his neck.

"Sunstreaker adores his finish..." He mumbled.

"That's why I'll give it a little mishap."

[ryunumber]

After a couple false starts, I think I have a way out of Neopets.

If you can find an instance of any other iteration of the Tooth Faerie which has a Ryu number, Neopets has a version of her which is a pretty typical Tooth Faerie and I'd count similar to how a Santa is a Santa or a Death is a Death. For the specific instance of The Darkest Faerie, the Tooth Faerie appears alongside Fyora as a playable character in the flash game Faerie Cloud Racers, and Fyora appears in The Darkest Faerie video game. (Alongside the Darkest Faerie, of course.)

I imagine the conceptual Tooth Faerie shows up LESS than someone like Santa, but there has to be some other game with a tooth faerie to work off. There HAS to be.

The faeries who appear in Faerie Cloud Racers also show up in lots of other stuff, so I feel like if you can find another Tooth Faerie to link to Ryu, it might blow Neopets wide open in terms of Ryu numbers.

So with the Tooth Faerie I'm personally in this weird gray area of "Faeries are very much a Neopets thing and Neopets is the only context in which this character's title is spelled 'The Tooth Faerie'" vs. "as pointed out, there is basically nothing more to this character beyond the fact that she gives money for teeth, which is also exactly as much as there is about the Tooth Fairy". Which is to say, yeah, sure, this is probably good enough of a pull to warrant an alternate path. Not unambiguously bulletproof, but certainly defensible.

Or it would be, if I could actually find a single eligible game with The Tooth Fairy.

There's a handful with tooth fairies, certainly. Psychonauts 2, for instance.

But those are all pretty clearly tooth fairies, and for this connection to be eligible the Tooth Fairy needs to be a unique entity, and I can't find one. Plenty of shows that have had a Tooth Fairy either as a quintessential children's show episode or a one-off comedic "har har the Tooth Fairy's some middle-aged dude", but as far as I know, none of them have made into video game adaptations. Not even the small browser games.

So uh, hey, open invitation to find one. It just needs to be 1. the singular, unique Tooth Fairy and referred to as such and 2. part of a "commercial" game, be it a paid game or an official game for an IP of some note. Which is to say, the creepy old lady from Antumbra doesn't quite work for this purpose.

(She also says she was a Tooth Fairy, but if it wasn't clear, we're scraping bottoms of barrels here.)

[astrophileous]

Love Bugs (Pt. 03)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): pregnancy, brief talk of abortion, stalker behavior, kidnapping, curse words (this shouldn't even warrant a warning at this point lol) pls lmk if I miss anything

Word Count: 2000-ish

Author's Note: told ya the pt 3 would be here sooner than you'd expect! as always, LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG cause these give me the motivation I need to finish the parts sooner and maybe upload more frequently 👀

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You always took pride in your ability to predict things correctly. It was one of the best traits that made you a great profiler.

Not this time, though.

This time, your ability to conjure correct predictions just seemed like a big joke that the universe purposefully played out to torture your ass.

The ringtone of your phone's incoming call snapped you back to reality. Without looking at the caller ID, you pressed the green button and brought the device to your ear.

"(Y/L/N) speaking."

"Hey, Beets. Where are you?" came the voice of one Penelope Garcia. "Hotch is looking for you. Are you coming in today?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm coming in. Sorry, it was an emergency. Tell the others I'll be there shortly."

After ending the call, you rushed through the rest of your morning routine as quickly as possible. The three opened boxes on the bathroom sink were thrown into the garbage can in no time. Their contents sitting on the counter, however, required you to pause and contemplate what course of actions you would want to do to deal with the problem at hand.

Upon realizing that this was not the kind of dilemma you could solve in a matter of minutes, you decided to fuck it before dumping the items into the same garbage can.

The three tests with two little pink lines would have to wait.

You had a serial murder case to solve.

If five months ago someone had told you that you'd someday end up carrying the child of Derek Morgan, you would have ordered a psychological evaluation for them right then and there.

The past few days had been a catastrophic turmoil. At first, the irrational anger had devoured you whole. You were this close to calling the company who produced your pills for claiming that they had 99% chance of preventing exactly the kind of mess you were going through from happening. Granted, they had put the minus 1% up there to save face in case anything like this were to ever happen. But what were the chances of you being one of the outliers in that small percentage?

Apparently, a pretty good one.

Then, the panic quickly had taken control and messed up with your head. The endless anxiety of having to bring a child into such a cruel world and bearing the responsibility of raising it, while having witnessed what kind of evil lurked underneath its facade, almost threw you to the brink of insanity. During those moments of fear, you had even entertained the idea of possibly terminating the pregnancy, even going as far as calling the nearest facility to question more about the procedure.

But once the fog had cleared, and you were able to start thinking rationally again, realization soon dawned upon you.

You wanted to keep the baby.

In some curious plot twist, you discovered that the idea of having this baby wasn't as scary as the knowledge of having to face Derek and inform him of the news.

And that was exactly what had been occupying your entire mind: how to break the news to Derek.

You barely even had the guts to talk to him directly anymore. Yet somehow, you had to find a way to tell him that you were pregnant, right to his face, as if you were bringing the news of a new movie that had just premiered in your nearest local theater.

How the hell were you ever going to do that?

And it wasn't like you were worried that Derek wouldn't be supportive about your decision to keep the baby. Even if he was unsupportive, there was nothing he could do to persuade you to change your mind. But Derek--sweet and kindhearted Derek--would never do such a thing. Having lost his father at a very young age himself, there was no way anyone could keep him from taking care of his child, no matter how they came to be in this world.

So, before you could gather your thoughts--and yourself--you had decided to put off telling Derek about your current condition.

"Still nothing, Garcia?" Hotch asked from his place in front of the board.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I've tried everything, but there was nothing else I could uncover from that tape."

The rest of the team was seated around the round table. It had been two weeks since the BAU received the video tape from the UnSub, and Garcia had finally revealed that there was nothing more to be analyzed from the tape despite having only obtained insignificant details out of it.

It also didn't help that the UnSub had been lying dormant since that video was delivered.

"It just doesn't make sense," Rossi said frustratedly. "Why would he stop now? What is he waiting for? This guy gets off on attention. Stopping his theatrics at a time like this doesn't fit his profile at all."

"He must be looking to get his attention from somewhere else," Derek chimed in.

"Yeah, but the question is where?" Reid interjected.

"And what is he planning to do to make sure he gets it?" Hotch let out a long sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, we're not going to stop just because this guy has. Emily, JJ, try interviewing the victims' families, friends, and the witnesses again. See if they suddenly have something useful for us. Morgan and Rossi, follow up on our other leads. Reid--"

"The case files. I know." Reid nodded.

"Right. And (Y/L/N)--" Hotch pinned his stare towards you, "--I need to talk to you. Thank you, everyone. Dismissed."

"Are you in trouble?" Emily leaned in as the rest of the team scattered out of the room.

"Not as far as I know," you whispered.

As you walked the path to Hotch's office, your mind began searching for the possibilities behind Hotch's sudden request to see you privately. You didn't get to guess for too long, though, as you finally arrived in front of his door almost in no time at all.

"Come on in, Agent. Close the door behind you," he commanded. You turned around to nudge the door closed. "Have a seat."

You didn't spend any time beating around the bush once you had sat down.

"Can I ask what this is about?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Hotch looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "I heard you requested a half day off today."

"I, uh... yes. Yes, I did. Is that why I'm here?"

"No. That is not why you're here." Hotch leaned back against his seat. "You've been distracted lately. You're coming late to work, and you can't seem to focus when you're around."

"I-I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"You should know that I've received concerns about you from the other members of the team."

What?

"Was it JJ?" you asked. "Because if this is about what happened in the bathroom--"

"It was Garcia, actually."

"Oh."

Hotch looked at you curiously. "What happened with JJ in the bathroom?"

"Nothing, sir. It was nothing."

The next few seconds were drowned in silence. The ticking clock on Hotch's desk became the only sound echoing against the walls. Hotch was examining you as if you were a suspect in the interrogation room, and with how much scrutiny was sizzling inside those eyes, you might as well have been.

"They're not the only ones concerned about you, (Y/L/N)," he spoke carefully. "I've also noticed that you haven't been yourself lately. You seem tired all the time. You look paler every single day." Hotch readjusted his tie before continuing, "I know that what we do here isn't easy. This job, it's not for everyone. Sometimes our limits are much smaller than what we thought it would be, and that's okay. If you'd like to put in a request for a transfer, I'm sure I will be able--"

"Sir," you stopped him before he could go on any further. "I don't want to transfer. I like working here."

"Just because you like working somewhere, it doesn't mean--"

"Hotch," you cut him off once more. "I'm pregnant."

The priceless look on Hotch's face at the sudden drop of your announcement would forever be ingrained in your brain.

"What?"

"I found out two weeks ago." You smiled tentatively. "I've been having severe morning sickness, and my appetite has also not been the best. Probably why I look tired all the time. I didn't mean to let my condition affect my work, I'm sorry."

"No, no. That's... wow. You're pregnant." Hotch started to nod as if the news was just beginning to fully settle upon him. "Congratulations, Agent. That's wonderful news. You are... happy, right?"

You smiled at his considerate question. "I am very much. Yes."

"How far along are you?"

"My guess is eight to ten weeks. I'm not so sure. Today is my first ultrasound, hence why I requested for half a day."

And then, by some unknown piece of miracle, Aaron Hotchner started to laugh. A real, actual laugh that had both of his eyes wrinkling in the corners. You didn't even know that he could do that without Jack around.

"When I called you in here earlier, this isn't exactly how I pictured the conversation would go," he admitted.

"Neither did I."

"Well--" He cleared his throat, "--there's, of course, a few things we need to go over in rumination of your current condition, but I'm sure we can manage that some other time."

"Of course, sir."

"And (Y/L/N)?" You stared at him expectantly. "You can come to me if you ever need anything. You know that, right?"

The sincerity in Hotch's declaration nearly brought you to tears. You immediately tried to blink back the emotions before you could make a mess of yourself in front of your boss.

"Of course, Hotch. Thank you."

You got up from the chair and began walking towards the door. Before your fingers could touch the handle, you decided to turn around once more.

"Hotch?"

"Yes?"

"I would appreciate it if we kept this between us for now."

"Of course, Agent." He nodded. "You have my word."

And with that, you exited Hotch's room before heading back straight to your desk.

A few hours later, you were finally returning home after attending the doctor appointment.

Confirming your earlier prediction, the doctor had put the estimated age of your fetus at around ten weeks. According to the internet, your baby was not larger than the size of a mere apricot. It was nothing more than a tiny blob in the sonogram image, but the sight of it alone somehow made you want to break down in tears.

Before you could turn into a sobbing ball of mess, you decided to put the picture right on the front of your fridge.

"Alright, I think that's--"

Thud.

Your head instinctively whipped around at the mysterious sound.

Without wasting another second, your hand immediately reached for the gun tucked safely in your holster. The tiny footsteps you took sounded deafening in the silence of your apartment. You first checked the bathroom, finding it empty with nothing out of the ordinary. The two bedrooms were pretty much the same. Quiet and a little messy just the way that you had left them that morning.

Sighing, you brushed off your paranoia as a result of your overactive hormons and creeping exhaustion.

When you reemerged from taking a shower nearly an hour later, the feeling of dread once again washed over your entire being.

At first glance, not a single thing in the apartment seemed to be out of place. But somehow, the feeling of another presence in the room was indisputable. Your wet feet slowly moved along the floor, careful as to not make as much sound as possible.

Once you arrived in the kitchen, you took in your surrounding, making sure that things really were staying in the places they should have been in.

You were about to sigh in relief until you saw it.

The sonogram image you previously had glued to the fridge.

It was now lying on the floor.

Before you could have a chance to grab the nearest weapon, the door to the second bedroom behind you suddenly began to creak.

"Boo."

That was the last thing you remembered before everything went dark.

[cyberrose2001]

Kinktober: Day 9

Prompt: Spanking

TFA Sentinel x afab gn human!reader

Warnings: Spanking, degradation, fingering, size difference, roleplaying.

Word Count: 1,542

Got a little carried away with this... just a little... i hope y'all enjoy

@sentinelprimeswife because she requested the character and wanted to be tagged :)

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the fleshy that's been snooping around on my ship," Sentinel slams the airlock shut, turning towards you with an authoritative posture, "You didn't think we'd have surveillance cameras, did you?"

You jump at the boom of the airlock, whipping your head around to face Sentinel like a deer in headlights. All you wanted to do was check out the weird spaceship in the dead centre of the city, but naturally, you got curious and slipped past the invisible shield through a hidden opening.

Well, that's what you would say if all this wasn't roleplay.

Everyone thinks that Sentinel is organic-repulsed, that he finds humans so disgusting and pathetic. But it's all a cover-up. His attraction to humans feels shameful and is considered an abomination, in his words. So he plays pretend so as to not make the other bots suspicious. But occasionally, there's an opportunity to play for real, with a little human Jazz made friends with.

It's cute really, how much it turns Sentinel on, to wield his power over you, a tiny human that has no business gettin' flirty with alien robots.

You feign fear, not expecting him to find you so soon. Though that's a bit stupid of you to think when your hiding place was Sentinel's private office. But it wasn't entirely an accident.

"I'm sorry sir," You back yourself up against the large desk, much too large for you, "I-I was just curious-"

"Oh you were curious, were you?" Sentinel scoffs, striding over to you, "You humans have a saying, now what was it- ah yes, curiosity killed the tiger."

"Cat."

"Whatever," Sentinel rolls his optics, "My point is, you've got some nerve sneaking around on my ship, squishy. And that's enough to warrant punishment for a Cybertronian, let alone a human."

You bite your lip, "What kind of punishment are we talking about, sir?"

Sentinel looks down at you, getting an absolute kick out of the difference in size. His derma tugs at the corner, "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

You watch with ardour as he walks around to his chair behind the desk and sits down, though his posture seems more relaxed. He clears his vocalizer, a garbled static with a hidden excitement, "Well? Are ya gonna come out from the front of my desk or what?"

Taking a small gulp, you briskly walk behind his desk where he sits, standing next to his pedes. You don't dare look up at him, half out of embarrassment for what's to come and half from the sheer nausea-inducing height difference from this angle.

"Now, instead of just standing there, why don't you come closer?" Sentinel scowls, returning to his assertive personality after faltering for a moment. He leans down with an outstretched servo, and before you can even blink, he literally scoops you up to his eyeline. God if you weren't having head spins before, you sure are now.

"Hey don't do that I'll-"

"Don't even say it, you freak me out enough." Sentinel lies through his dentae, but he pulls a one-eighty real quick when he flips you on your stomach with a finger, "Arch your back struts, that's an order."

Ohhh. You know exactly where this is going now. He wants to spank you into obedience. You weren't going to lie, Sentinel is definitely the type of mech to have this kind of kink. Though a bit tamer than you were expecting, the thought of getting spanked by Sentinel sends a shiver of arousal to your core.

So you obey, arching your back for him. He, surprisingly, helps you out by bending his middle digit so you can drape your upper body over it. He's got a full view, tight jeans showing off all your humanly curves.

Sentinel's breath hitches, he can't help but bask in the warmth of your soft, pliable body. How you just melt into his servo and bend so fluidly. But he's getting distracted. He'll let himself lose control later, for now, he'll try to maintain at least some of his dignity.

"Look at you, taking orders like a good organic," Sentinel taunts, using his other servo to trace down your back, "I half expected you to put up a fight; a bit disappointing actually."

You don't have the nerve to say anything, afraid that you'll say something you'll regret. Because it's only a matter of seconds before Sentinel notices the small wet patch seeping through your jeans.

"Not talking?" Sentinel teases again, trailing a digit to your ass, "I guess I'll just have to make you scream."

Sentinel wiggles his digit behind the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down to your knees. If he didn't notice how wet you were before, he most certainly does now. He groans at the sight of the foreign sticky fluid soaking through your underwear, his spike involuntarily pulses behind his panel. Oh, what he would give to bend you over his desk right now. But you're far too small for his length.

"If my knowledge of humans is correct, I would say that you like this." Sentinel runs his fingertip across your ass, "How pathetic."

Before you could open your mouth to actually give him a comeback, he strikes the fat of your ass with a flick of his digit. A simple move on his part, but it was enough force to send you forward and make you cry out.

"There's your first one," Sentinel soothes the area, rubbing the reddened area gently, "Let's see how much more you can take, trespasser."

He does it again with just as much force but on your other ass cheek, watching how the soft flesh jiggles. Though he's 'punishing' you, he watches your every move and listens out for your safe word, making sure he's not pushing you to your limit.

A gush of arousal seeps between your legs at the third slap, back arching outwards like a cat with each one in a kneejerk reaction. Tears start to prick at your eyes at the sting, but you don't bother wiping them away. You know Sentinel likes to see the reactions he gets out of you.

Nearly half an hour passes, and your ass is red-raw, jeans ripped off long ago, crumpled on the desk. You're like a trembling leaf in his servo, which now collects a small pool of your fluids in his palm. You never once complained or back-chatted, taking your punishment like a good little organic. Sentinel's spike slipped past his array a while ago, and now resorts to grinding against the desk in replacement for his hands being full.

"One more," Sentinel pants, hips softly grinding against the desk, "Be a good little human and take one more for me..."

"Sentinel, please..." You whimper out, prepping yourself for the next sting. It comes swiftly, causing a shaky cry from you. But you take it, letting the tears run down your face and onto the digit you rest heavily on.

"Good... very good," Sentinel groans, rewarding you with a few pats on your back, "You took that a lot better than expected, I suppose you deserve a little repayment."

You half expected him to slap you again, but he doesn't. Instead, he moves your underwear to the side and rubs the tip of his digit against your soaking slit. The relief of finally getting some stimulation to your numbed nervous system causes a rush of exhilaration, and you can't help but grind against his digit.

"Please... I've been good," You shiver as you feel him press past your folds, "I promise I won't snoop around on your ship again I swear- nghffh!"

"I've heard enough of your yapping," Sentinel pushes his digit the rest of the way inside you, growling at how hot and tight you feel, "All I wanna hear from you now is those little whimpers, you understand?"

"Mhm," You moan as he thrusts and curls inside you, wet squishy sounds accompanying your whimpers, "Yes, sir."

"Good little organic..." Sentinel pants, resuming his grinding against the desk, focusing on how your tight cunt eagerly swallows him up, "Primus, I bet you'd look so tiny on my spike, wouldn't you?"

"Yes sir," You're so fucking desperate to cum at this point, you start bouncing your ass on his finger, imagining it's his thick spike stretching and filling you out, "Fuck... nffnn-"

"Bet you'd be so warm too," He groans, close to finishing on his own, "Frag it-"

Sentinel cries out as he shoots thick ropes of transfuid across his desk, spike throbbing with yearning. Though trembling through his overload, his relentless thrusts of his digit buried inside you only hasten.

And before long, he's watching you cum hard around his finger, impaling yourself as much as you can on him. You cry, scream and jerk as you work yourself through it. Fluid drips from between your shaking thighs, running down your legs as you collapse on his hand.

Sentinel half-laughs half sighs in exhaustion, slipping his finger out and flopping back onto his chair. He lifts you back to his level, petting your limp form with a shaky servo, "Guess you're good for somethin' after all, human."

[hermitscratch]

7 or 16 - Bdubs/Joel?

Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting

16. A kiss while someone watches, Bdubs/Joel, 849 words

Honestly, Bdubs saw this coming ages ago.

Since Double Life, in fact. He'd have to be blind, deaf, and stupid not to notice the way Etho and Joel clicked. Like two halves of the same whole that had Bdubs wondering, not for the first time, if the game knew something they didn't. Bdubs hadn't been surprised when Etho came to him two sessions in to say that being with Joel felt Good. The kind of capital-letter-warranting feeling that Etho used to describe how he felt with people like Doc, like Beef, like Bdubs. Bdubs was sure at that point that Etho was in love. He was just as sure that, in time, he'd love Joel as well.

A lot had happened since then. Limited Life, the Rift debacle, The Decked Out 2 invitations, Secret Life. Season Nine had ended. When Season Ten began, Joel was there, and he took to being a Hermit like sparks to dry kindling, getting happily caught up in the whirlwind of early-game adventures.

Joel always seemed busy. Never too busy to indulge a conversation with any passersby who grabbed his attention, never too busy to pay calls and visits to his wife, and certainly never too busy to build- but busy enough that by the time he showed up on Bdubs' doorstep, Bdubs hadn't seen him since the season introduction.

It was nice, having Joel to himself for a while. They chatted, they caught up, they talked about their building plans as Bdubs toured Joel around his house and the space he'd cleared for future projects. Joel was a great rubber duck, taking all Bdubs' ideas and bouncing them back a little to the left, helping him see what could change for the better. Using the tree as a living indicator of the passage of time? Genius.

Bdubs tried to be the same, when it came time to tour Joel's base, but what could he add to perfection? His builds had so much visual interest, each decorated sign and hanging banner significant to the image as a whole. It felt like a part of a city, chiseled right out of the mountainside, and Bdubs was incredibly impressed. Verticality, especially, was a tough thing to work with.

They were on their way through the shopping district when Joel stopped. Bdubs walked a few paces ahead before he noticed, and stopped as well to let Joel catch up. The next time it happened, Bdubs paused with him. "You alright?"

Joel seemed to stare at the corner of the building they'd just passed. "Fine," He said, turning back around and gesturing with a nod for them to keep moving. As they did, Joel continued, "Any ideas why your boyfriends are following us?"

"What?" Immediately, Bdubs tried to backtrack to the corner Joel had been staring at, but Joel grabbed him by the arm.

"Shh! Bloody- don't make a scene of it. Etho's lurking behind the building," Joel nodded towards the shade behind the oddly tall pop-up shop, "And Impulse is going from roof to roof."

Bdubs had known for a long time that he was going to love Joel some day.

He just... didn't expect it to start here, with enchanting eyes glinting mischievously and a smile that made compelling promises as Joel said, "We should mess with 'em."

Bdubs' throat dried. Now wasn't the time to be looking at Joel's mouth. "Yeah, uh-huh," He said with a nervous-excited chuckle, "They've got it coming! Wh-what do they think they're doing, spyin' on us!"

Joel giggled back, and the sound made Bdubs' heart do these funny little flips that he hadn't felt since he and Impulse were bound in Double Life, "Gotta make it convincing," Joel warned.

Oh. Joel's lips were soft.

Softer than Bdubs would have expected from a man who bit them while he thought. Warm, as well, and Bdubs' awareness narrowed to that point of contact. It was tame, as far as kisses went. Joel wasn't much for tame, and possessed by resentment that Joel might be doing something stupid like holding back, Bdubs grabbed Joel by the folds of his kimono and pulled him closer, kissed him harder.

They broke apart with a gasp only after hearing the sound of Impulse falling from his rooftop perch.

For a moment, there was nothing. They both stared at where Impulse had been, then to the dissipating smoke of his lost life, his items scattered haphazardly around the area. They looked at each other, kiss-drunk and surprised, like they'd forgotten that this started as a way to get back at Etho and Impulse for stalking them through the shopping district. Like they'd forgotten that they're very much still in the, very public, shopping district. Admittedly, Bdubs might have forgotten his own name if they'd kept up like that for much longer.

They laughed.

"That's enough of that," Joel finally said, "We should get Impulse's stuff put away, before it despawns on 'im."

Bdubs nodded his agreement, already in the process of crafting a chest. "And what happens then?"

"After that," Joel had that mischievous flicker in his eyes again, "I think you and I've got a lot to talk about."

[thesherrinfordfacility]

What is your take on the whole "the Metatron threatened Aziraphale off-screen & Aziraphale lied to protect Crowley" theory that seems to have become very popular in the fandom? Personally, I think it does raise some interesting points, but I'm not sold on it for a variety of reasons. I love your metas btw! ❤️

hi anon!💕 thank you so much, that's very kind of you!

gosh, been a while since i've had a meta ask!✨ hmm. tbh, im in two camps, and i do think there's some merit in the two of them matching up. i wrote a couple of posts on this, breaking down the final fifteen practically shot-by-shot, and have read countless different takes from other brilliantly observant people, but essentially my thought process is this (lengthy explanation under the cut, im afraid - im a bit meta-rusty):

aziraphale did not want to go to heaven. that much is clear from the two refusals he gives the metatron. furthermore, he rejects heaven for what it currently is and what it stands for (and, arguably imo, reaches the end of his tether with god, too) in s1, when he realises that heaven is also firmly working to bring about armageddon. that it wasn't just the agenda of the archangels; the metatron, the voice of god, confirms that war is the goal, no matter the collateral. and god does not intervene. this continues throughout s2; aziraphale is notably still disdainful of heaven, is happy enough being separated from it... but it should be noted that he has replaced heaven, and the structure and comfort it offered him, with crowley ("it's nice to tell someone about the good things you've done... now that im not reporting to heaven...")

i do think what we're shown on screen is accurate. there's allowance for the fact that the flashbacks to the aziraphale-metatron conversation may be biased and therefore unreliable, being from aziraphale's pov, but... i don't think there will be anything necessarily revealed that wasn't shown to us in the FF. there might be snippets of that conversation that he's kept from crowley, but has essentially seen fit to share with the audience... so personally i think it's accurate, and nothing is missing. and tbh, if nothing else, it would feel narratively cheap if the 'solution' to the FF was in something being purposefully withheld from the audience. in that respect, i do take the FF at face value

we know that aziraphale has a low evaluation of himself. it's presented to us that he's evidently hedonistic and enjoys earthly pleasures just as much as crowley does, but i don't think it's as evident until shax's jabs during the demon raid just how much aziraphale actually might be - frankly - ashamed of these things. i think on a fundamental level he likes being an angel, it's all he's ever known. but even if he accepts that he may be a bit of a bastard - is even slightly proud of it - i think he's equally self-conscious of the fact that who he truly is will never be enough for heaven, god, or to warrant his own angelhood, and all these things he enjoys equally serve as a source of shame in how far it removes him from what his belief on what a good angel should be

in the same vein, he's caught between the devil and the deep blue sea in that he might feel that he's not enough for crowley, either. case in point for me, unfortunately, is that crowley has constantly reaffirmed that they are both on their own side, but when aziraphale opts to shelter gabriel, arguably the right thing to do for many reasons but ultimately because that's the kind of person aziraphale is (imo), crowley retracts it... possibly unconsciously, and completely understandably, but aziraphale definitely notes it ("i thought we carved it out for ourselves!") and his resulting petulant, bratty dismissal is textbook responding to rejection with rejection. especially when aziraphale clearly was not totally on side with "our own side" at the end of s1, but has come around to it and accepted it in the four years since. so, it feels like aziraphale has done what he considers to be the right thing to do, a core principle of who he is in modern day (having learnt some very hard lessons along the way) but that's enough for crowley to take back everything he had said previously

aziraphale loves crowley, that much is evident. and he may well remember the angel that crowley used to be with some degree of fondness. however, a) im not sold that the pre-fall flashback is aziraphale's POV, and b) that does not mean that aziraphale preferred crowley as an angel. imo, he fell for crowley whilst he was a demon, but because crowley was crowley. a demon that pretends otherwise, but is at heart, just a little bit, a good person. the concept of good is important to aziraphale, but he hasn't removed it from being a purely angelic trait. ergo, i think he considers crowley to have fallen unfairly, that it was a gross injustice (and i say this fully believing that 'just asking questions' may not have been the reason why crowley fell), and that if anyone deserves to be restored - to be forgiven and essentially be asked for forgiveness in return - its crowley

similarly, i think we can be led to assume that aziraphale doesn't actually know anything about crowley's fall, nor his actual thoughts and feelings on the matter. all he knows is what crowley told him - "sauntered vaguely downwards" - and up until the FF crowley hasn't truly (as far as i can recall) ever declared that he doesn't want the chance to be an angel again. he's obviously derisive of heaven, that is very clear, but when he states "unforgivable, that's what i am", i think that registered to aziraphale that crowley might feel like he won't be forgiven, but doesn't mean he wouldn't want it. all the sneers crowley has volleyed at heaven and the archangels might have been, up until now, simply been anger and resentment for something that was unfair in the first place. add to this that crowley has been placed in danger on multiple occasions by hell, and again i think the offer of restoration - to be beyond the reach of hell altogether - is lucrative to aziraphale... and it's now within his power to give.

so. i do think that there is an implicit threat in the aziraphale-metatron discussion. aziraphale visibly becomes very uncomfortable when crowley is brought up, the exact nature of their relationship heavily implied as not having escaped the metatron's notice. aziraphale is not happy as he walks back to the bookshop, and he's erratic and scattered when he delivers the news and offer to crowley. a threat may not have been intended, let alone been vocalised, but i do think aziraphale feels under threat of some kind... that any way you slice it, he doesn't feel like he has any choice in returning to heaven, and instead chooses to make hay whilst the sun shines etc.

but equally... i think aziraphale believes the best in everyone and everything. he has constantly been ostracised, mocked, or ignored as being irrelevant to heaven - and even himself perhaps wonders if he should be an angel at all. but here the metatron is, recognising that aziraphale might be "the angel for the job". whilst i don't think aziraphale buys in to the metatron's flattery, because im fairly sure that the angel as demonstrably intelligent as he is would potentially consider that the flattery is superficial and overplayed (especially given how nearly all of it contradicts the s1 conversation that he and the metatron had), i do think aziraphale might be thinking '...yeah, i am the angel for the job. just not the job you're intending'.

metatron mentions nothing about 'making a difference', but that's exactly what aziraphale tries to implore with crowley; that they could change things, and him being in charge - with crowley by his side, in on the subterfuge - might just be what is required. exactly as the people they currently are. there is something about heaven that aziraphale believes is worth saving, and i think that's where the "its the side of truth, of light... of good" comes in. qualities that he thinks heaven should be, was always meant to be, and he could restore. crowley however considers the endeavour to be utterly pointless.

i also think there's an element of doublespeak going on... kinda. more specifically, that aziraphale is speaking to two audiences in the scene (three, if you count us!); he's talking in a way that sounds entirely like he's dancing to metatron's tune, that he's heaven's man through-and-through... but also in a way that he's trying to sell the idea to crowley in turn - and is speaking in a way that won't tip either audience off to the full reality of the situation as he sees it. i wouldn't go so far as to say it's a code, though - e.g. i personally don't accept the ''time out' signal but crowley missed it' theory - but instead that he's trying to lead the metatron into underestimating him, and also perhaps downplay the exact truth of the situation from crowley. if crowley were to know that aziraphale is frightened or uneasy, or felt under threat in any way, i think he might be afraid that crowley would do something drastic, or at least inadvertently give 'the game' away. nonetheless though, he has to reveal some of his true intentions to crowley, in order to bring him on side - just very subtly.

regarding the restoration offer - kinda went over it above, but i do think aziraphale genuinely thought that crowley would want it, and would take it not just so he could be an angel again, but also in order to help change heaven and be with aziraphale. that being said, as he walks into the bookshop, i think a part of him recognised it might be a hard sell, and instead aziraphale would need to frame it in a way as being like... a disguise, or a cover, or some sort? but aziraphale severely underestimated crowley's feelings on heaven and angelhood, even if i don't think it was an unfair assumption to make, either. aziraphale was excited about it because it was something he could actually give crowley, something within his power to bestow - to right a wrong that he's possibly always thought was a gross injustice ever since job.

god im sorry this has taken so long but - no, i don't think the metatron threatened aziraphale off-screen, but i do think aziraphale feels threatened by the discussion and implications within it, and whilst feeling that he has no way out, instead opts to return to heaven to exact his influence - as an angel that's not like the rest of them - and to play his own game... to do the right thing, and make a difference.

and no, i don't think he lied to crowley to protect him. i think he had to toe a line between 'the metatron might somehow be able to hear and observe us, so i have to speak in such a way that makes it seem im on heaven's side', and 'what i say to crowley has to be without cottoning him onto the fact that i feel threatened, bc a) he might do something silly and b) the metatron would know, but what i say also has to be worded so that he can see why i truly want to go back'.

thank you for the ask, i really enjoyed it!!! sorry you have to read an essay tho oops💕

[mugunghwc]

@badheart

More than 24 had passed since they had seen the sunlight. Clamour had turned into silence as the hours went by, losing their fury. The imminent war kept them at bay, saving every ounce of energy for the fight—if they even arrived in time for it. Despite the many men within the Tojo, this was a war between the Fukuhara-gumi and Endo. With enough determination, today could be the day the clan's leader lost his power. The arrival of the Jingweon mafia overshadowed that of the rest of the Fukuhara-gumi, their surprise was evident upon seeing no other than Han Joon-gi and a few of his men already guarding the home. Among them was Ji Woo, who instructed Yury to keep a close eye on their boss, emphasizing that his safety took priority over that of the yakuza leader. Ideally, he wouldn't be present in the first place. Kim remained blissfully unaware of such a risk.

The cold, steel bars of a cell felt oddly nice underneath his fingers, which were clasped around them as Ryo glared outwards. Out of sight, but not out of mind. "And we’re stuck in here while our boss faces them alone.” Well, not entirely alone. However, the support of their men, did little to put at ease his mind. Their high rank wasn't without reason—they were Fukuhara's top dogs due to their skill in combat and reliability. A scoff escapes him. "This won't go without consequence."

The security alarm began to beep, triggered by its motion-detecting feature, as men started trespassing into the Fukuhara home. Their images were captured on the CCTV footage, heightening the anticipation of the attack. Then, there was dead silence—not even their steps were heard as they entered the residence, like ghosts. All of their faces were concealed with masks, obscuring their identities. Endo's men blocked the exits, led by Jack. His cry for action was like the rumble of thunder announcing a storm. Their bullets, like raindrops as they began to pour. Han kept close to the clan's leader, aiming his gun at whoever dared to get near. However, shooting was reserved in case it was necessary ; using of his strength to fight back. The less blood they shed, the easier would it be to avoid further issue.

Simultaneously, as if aware of Fukuhara's predicament, Yuma appeared. This was his chance, as there was no considerable amount of men guarding the secondary home in which Eiko and her child were kept. It would've been the perfect timing, had it not been predicted by Shintaro, who was even quicker to act than Kim was—emerging from the shadows. The man was detained.

Despite their perfect timing, Endo's attempt to annihilate the leader of their rival group had failed. Just as the king was going to be overthrown, a dark horse arose. Some lives were lost, but not all of them, as it was clear that they were at a disadvantage with the amount of men on Fukuhara's side. Jack was shot on his right thigh ; groaning in pain before calling off the attack. He was escorted by the rest as they retrieved from the home. Everything went quiet again, minus their ragged breathing. Han slumped against the wall with his head thrown back and a mild ache when his ribcage expanded with each inhale. Without notice, he, too, had been shot. The adrenaline rushing through his body prevented him from taking notice. It was only until Ji Woo pointed out his bloodied clothes that it dawned on him. He had been careless.

Kim would eventually find out upon being informed by Yury, but as desperate as he was to ensure that his boss wasn't in danger, he had to keep Yuma under the radar for now. It was Shintaro who insisted that it was Han who communicated to Kenzo about it, as he'd be more comprehensive with him rather than with an actual ex-convict, regardless of whether it was warranted or not. He visited the leader and was one of the first ones to see him upon awaking from surgery, handing over his phone.

"If you want any chance of keeping your brother alive, I suggest you free Fukuhara's men." Han suggested, while hinting of having knowledge of his whereabouts. Even if it was frowned upon by his colleagues, the entire force knew that they had no motive to hold them in captivity any longer. The more time it passed, the more vicious would be their fury.

As soon as the cell was opened, Ryo was among the first to step out and grab his items. Among them, his jacket, which he had removed by then. He took Jiro with him and headed up to check on their leader. A phone call that was made within the car, asking for the man's location.

[echantedtoon]

Until Death Do You Vow Ch4 Deathly Vows

(Warnings: Y/n gets a small cut on her finger and mentioning of blood.)

The moon shined red as blood tonight as shadows moved.

Quiet night. Unholy night of beasts. Feasting their sights upon the stray women who dare stay out at night when the full moon rises, lighting the pathway for the beasts to claim their prey. Gnashing teeth, snarling fangs waiting to take a bite into innocent flesh where the terrible claws miss. Waiting to snatch you away down into their dark abyss never to return. She was none what so ever concerned about traveling alone tonight. She had better places to be and anyone who dared be foolish enough to tangle with the night would never be heard from again. One look at it would deter most creatures away. But hier business was not with them.

You shivered in the wind that picked up clutching your phone and the small bouquet of flowers closer as you rubbed your shoulders in a vain attempt to bring what limited warmth you had back to your body.

Partially through what was left of the limited moonlight, you passed by some wild trees that made your stomach flip bu it came a different feeling.

The feeling of being watched.

It didn't start out that way. At first it was just an aspect in the back of your mind you brushed of as paranoia of the manor's old ghost stories echoing in your mind. The feeling first came around when the sun had just started to set and it wasn't strong enough to warrant anything more than a two second thought and hand waving them off. However thing's changed. The sun soon disappeared over the horizon to be kissed good night by it's counterpart, the moon, and the walking woman was glad that it was a full moon, for it brought moonlight strong enough for you to see the pathway as your feet continued to walk. With it came the feeling but tenfold. You've only felt this way before back at Zephyr University whenever Taylor wanted to get your attention, that same feeling also returned with the feeling of being followed, but every time your head snapped over your shoulder towards the Darkness behind you....

There would be nothing.

Literally nothing. Nothing but the cold wind starting to pick up. You brushed it off as just your paranoia getting the better of you and you set your jaw against the wind. There was nothing there anyways so what did you have to worry about?

"Come on, Y/n." You thought to yourself with a shake of your head and a deep inhale. "You're just being irrational is all. You need to get your bearings and figure out what to do with a clear head."

"You alright there?", Taylor asked through the earpiece sounding concerned.

"Yeah. I guess it's just all the spooky stuff getting to me. I can't help but feel like I'm in a horror movie. Creepy haunted manor, all alone, full blood moon, even creepier abandoned cemetery, and I'm dressed up like those useless women in those movies. Y'know the ones that wear heels and are written to be very stupid and we're always angry at how stupid they are in the movie."

Taylor groaned. "I know. Why even add those kinds of characters into movies when everyone knows they're just gonna be the first killed off?! It's really redundant at this point."

Taylor's annoyed voice brought some ease to your heart as you stepped along the stone path. Your heels clicking on with each step. "Well I made it around the manor. There's nothing here but an old barn that looks like the remains of an old barn, and a small brick road leading somewhere. I'm gonna follow it for a bit and see if it leads anywhere."

"Really? Huh. I thought they'd at least leave the headstones."

You shrugged despite Taylor being unable to see you. "They either broke down over the years or the Gallaghers moved them along with the bodies." You still followed the brick pathway until it moved farther and farther away from the manor. "So far it looks like this pathway is leading nowhere too. "

"Any other old buildings around there?"

"Nope." You stopped just as the last few bricks ended a yard before a tree. "It just stops at a dead end." You looked around and saw nothing except for..You rose a brow and nudged what looked like the remains of an old broken plant pot. "Maybe this is where they had the outdoor garden?"

"Maybe. Or maybe this is where the graves were!," Taylor's voice lit up in glee. "Try one last E.V.P session! You might catch something!"

"Alright but after this then we go home. Deal?"

"Deal!," He agreed.

You got a third time pulled out your phone and allowed the process to repeat for a third time as your other hand rubbed your arms in a vain attempt to keep warm. "Hello. Is there anyone here with me tonight?" You didn't hear anything but the wind but jumped as a clash of thunder sounded overhead. Looking up you saw more clouds gather up. Better make this quick. "Is there anyone from the Gallagher family here?" You pushed your veil out of the way and kept going quickly. "Is there any message you want me to pass on for you?" You waited a minute before asking one last question. "Can you do anything to make your presence known?" You waited a long time again straining your eyes in the dark but saw nothing. Heard nothing but the wind. "...*sigh* Ok. I'm gonna stop recording now."

"Did you see anything?"

"Nothing but creepy outdoors. I'll check the footage real quick and then I'm coming back."

"Alright, Bud. Don't take too long. It looks like it's about to rain."

Couldn't argue with that. Do once again the process repeated itself. "Hello. Is there anyone here with me tonight?" ...Nothing. "Is there anyone from the Gallagher family here?" You held it up to your ear to listen against the wind but once again nothing. "Is there any message you want me to pass on for you?" Again silence. "Can you do anything to make your presence known?" Again. Nothing. You sighed already guessing what you would see on the footage when you rewound it and sure enough once again there WAS NOTHING.

"Taylor, there's nothing here," you said defeated, "Even if there was ghosts here they all either moved on or not gonna talk to us. It's literally a dead end."

Taylor didn't say anything but you could feel the disappointment on the other side. Eventually he sighed. "It's.. I-It's alright, Bud. I know you did your best. Let's regather a-and figure out where to go from here."

"Good idea. My feet are killing me." You turned- "GAH!!" Only to trip on your long train fall to your hands and knees. Hand gripping your roses- "OW!" Your hand recoiled pulling back to you as a thorn from the roses poked out from the delicate paper wrapped around them and cut your hand oozing a red liquid.

THUD!! CLINK, CLINK- 

Your phone fell to the ground with a thud, thankfully landing on the grass and avoiding a shattered screen. However something else fell loose from the folds of the dress. Two tiny, shiny circle bands rolled down the dress and fell to the old brick path in front of you. Making clinking sounds as they rolled to a stop near your hands. Your f/c eyes blinked looking down at them.. before your eyes widened in shock and horror at seeing them.

Your old engagement rings-

"Hey! Hey, Buddy! Are you ok? Give me a status update!", Taylor piped up in worry.

"Y-Yeah...I'm ok." You answered slowly stunned first reaching out to grab your phone and then reaching out a hand shakily to the two rings. "...I can't believe they're still here.."

"I...What is?"

You didn't speak at first. Shakily grabbing the rings and slowly standing up. Wind blowing the veil around you. The blood moonlight giving a reddish glint to the golden shine of the two rings in your hand. Amongst and on them was red smeared from the prick the rose gave you. Great. You'll need to disinfectant and bandaid that later.

".... Ian's rings."

There was a shocked pause from the other side. "WHAT?!" Taylor shouted nearly taking your ears off with his voice.

"Not so loud!..*sigh*" your eyes looked back at the pretty rings. They weren't the most expensive, only being simple golden bands, but they carried behind it a heavy fortune of bad memories. "I can't believe they were here the entire time. I totally forgot about them."

"I thought you would've sold them by now." Taylor's voice was obviously annoyed and laced with distaste. "How do you even still have them?"

"I must've forgotten about them in the box with the dress. I guess they got tangled up in the folds of the dress and me tripping like in those loony cartoons knocked 'em loose." You glared at the rings. "Of course they'd show up now." As if your night couldn't be worse.

"He was a real jerk! I'm glad he's not around anymore or else I would've-!...I would've..Well I don't know what I'd do but I would've definitely done something!!"

You snorted at him despite yourself being angry. "I still can't believe I saw anything in him. He couldn't even say his vows right at the rehearsal...I guess that was because he was imagining saying them to someone else the whole time."

"Good riddance I say! You're better off without him! ... Don't feel bad about it. It's all in the past now. "

"Yeah. I'm surprised though he's into acting when he couldn't even recite his own vows right when pretending he cared."

"What was his vows anyways? I bet they were so bland and cheesey."

You snickered along with him. "They were." You cleared your throat before in a bad impression of Ian's voice you spoke in a cheesy lovestruck tone. "My beautiful love. Bind our blood in ceremony and let me share your name." A hand outstretched to no one as you fake acted out processing your love to an invisible imaginary person. "Under the stars of the heavens, I solemly swear, that this hand will always be kind and never cruel. That my voice will only speak truth. That this life is now forever yours." The outstretched hand pretended to take the imaginary person's hand. "Now as yours is mine."

You could hear some slow clapping and a stuffed guffaw from the earpiece from Taylor. Making you smile and continue.

"Bind our souls to infinity and I will promise you love and devotion through sickness and health and beyond the realms of death." You continued to speak remembering the details of the day like it happened yesterday. "I will love you in all your forms now and forever. Through several lifetimes and back." Your voice was low and smooth now speaking it like you meant it with pride. "From now to infinity." You held up one of the lightly bloodied rings up as if actually presenting it to someone. "Unyielding. Untainted. Undeniable. With this voice I promise you my love and heart. With this ring, I ask you to be mine!" You held up the rings- only to accidentally again trip on your train and slip. "Crap!"

You ended up landing on just your knees his time. Both rings again falling to the ground and rolling away from sight. Not that you really cared about that as much as you cared about the soreness this goofy outfit was causing you.

"Are you alright?"

You hissed slowly moving to stand back up. "Yeah. I just keep tripping over my stupid dress."

You scrambled to grab your phone again and look around for the rings. Where'd they go? You looked around for the two rings and eventually found them laying just in front of you in the grass. Ah. There they are. You were half tempted to just leave them there but you could clean them up and pawn them for some money at least. Your hand reached out to them- 

Until something grabbed your wrist-

It was like the air itself had wrapped around your wrist and PULLED! You yelled out as you arm was tugged forward and you yelled as your other hand shot out to brace yourself against the ground. A horror feeling shot through your body as you looked up and saw..

Literally nothing there.

The moonlight illuminated the area in front of you and you could see nothing but you felt an iron grip on you arm. You couldn't help but let out a little yell of fright before you started pulling back in a panic. Pulling back and yanking at the otherworldly grip keeping you in place. Your other arm flying out to grip your arm and pull back as hard as you could. Pulling, yelling, and fighting back until whatever it was gave- You ended up falling onto your backside scrambling away from your position and hastily shooting up to your feet stand. Your lungs heaved in horror at nothing. 

The wind howled around you blowing the veil around like some bridal cape. The clouds increased in the sky and the bloody moon oozed it's light down on misfortune. 

THUMP-

Your mouth dropped in horror as the ground under your feet moved, as of a great beast was disturbed by your presence. The ground rumbled and shook as you teetered and waved your arms around to steady yourself from falling again. Pupils the sizes of pins as you gave small gasps and yelps as thunder crashed overhead thunder reigning through the sky and cold wind swirling around. Until the monster under the dirt finally ceased and all was still again. You gasped out and stood there panting heavily as everything just..

Stopped.

As if it didn't even happen. You panted looking around yourself but not seeing anything. What the hell just happened?!

"Hey! Hey, Y/n! What's going on over there?," Taylor piped up suddenly. "The connection just went out and there was nothing but static on your end!"

"I-..I-I don't know." You shakily looked about you-

BAM!!

A hollow push erupted from the ground in front of you. Eyes going small as something from the depths battered it's way from beneath the surface. A feeling of ice injected itself into your veins as something pushed out from under your feet. Dirt pushed up with each deep push upwards. Cracks formed between old roots and rocks. Two shiny rings slowly rolled away from the jostling-

Only to be snatched up as a white hand burst from beneath the soil.

Body froze. Jaw opening. Eyes wide as the moon. Digits old and worn flexed out feeling against the nearly disturbed dirt until they found their target in two small rings. Fingers long and boney curled around them drawling them into it's cold dead palm before it retreated back down into the depths of the abyss leaving a disturbed dirt mound behind. The wind carried what sounded like a happy sigh of relief after the soft dirt stopped moving about.

"I do." 

There was a grim pause. Wind howling. AND THEN THE GROUND BEGAN RISING UP WITH MORE FORCE-

She didn't hesitate for a moment. Not even a second. Not when the woman turned around and RAN.

Every runner knows that the first warning sign of danger is a sense of dread, a feeling of impending doom. You are about to run away from a monster. But how do you prepare for this? Y/n had always hated dark forests with its lumbering tall trees. It was a place where she felt fear. The dark teased like taunting bullies, each sway of a branch creaking it's maniacal glee and every whistle the wind whipped by your ears whistled their sick pleasure in watching her panicked state of mind. CLICK, CLICK, CLICK!! Went the sounds of her heels against the bricked ground and curling tree roots, like spiderwebs under her feet, ready to snag her and make her join the abyss any moment. The darkness caged you in with the mockery of noises, a canopy of night shrouding the way out. But for now you only knew one thing.

RUN.

Your body felt light, only being able to feel every time your feet slapped against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. You could be hurting for the next ten years for all you cared! Please gods just let you get away! Your eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your only hope was to get back to Taylor! Or to get back to the manor! A place you could at least take refuge. Your arm were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran, other hand holding up your dress in a vain attempt to keep from tripping. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and you were forced to start slowly down step by step until you were hugging the side of a tree for life, your arms desperately gripping the rough bark until the imprints were deep in your palm and your knuckles were deep white, forcing your body to step around the tree until you reached it's front and you hid yourself behind it from the direction you just ran from. Your back hit the hard tree and your head tilted towards the heavens, hands clutching your pounding heart. And there was silence other than the mockery of wind and branch creaks. Your throat and lungs were on fire. Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest. And you did not dare move in fear of seeing that-...that-....MONSTER somewhere behind you.

That-....That wasn't real r-r-right? It COULDN'T be real! It was just a figment of your imagination projected by your fear! T-That must've been the case!...But then..How were you able to make contact with it if it was just a hallucination? You felt your hand make contact with that thing's grip and you felt the struggle you gave. You stood there, shaking harder than a tree in a tsunami in dead of winter. Other than the gasps of air your body forced you to make, you dared not make a sound. Not a noise. The whole time you stayed perfectly still as ever so slowly your heart rate decreased the longer the silence went on and the longer nothing appeared. Slowly your lungs and throat's fire extinguished with the help of the cold wind you swallowed, and what was left behind was just a dull soreness. The rapid beating of your heart calmed slowly until it was just a little above what it would normally be beating. Your eyes slowly regained focus from the sheer panic. And your body calmed down but not your mind. Your mind still raced in fear from what you just saw and you stared straight up at the creaking branches of the tree you hid behind. The panic still clear and making you do nothing but listen in anticipation, like a rabbit hiding from a pursuing fox. But still...nothing but silence. And when your eyes slowly looked to the right and your face followed until your cheek and side of the face was pressed against the rough tree bark awaiting for any sounds, but nothing still came.

It was a stupid decision...A bad one really but-..

You slowly scraped your back against the back of the tree slowly inching your way to the side of the tree, and ever so slowly, poked your head out. Not all the way. Just enough to look out at the direction you ran from and saw...nothing. Nothing but darkness and trees. And that made you pause. There was...nothing? Nothing at all? Slowly you pushed your head fully out to see better, and took your time grazing your eyesight around the darkness, straining your eyes in the limited light that seeped between the leaves and branches. Quietly listening for anything running after you, but still nothing came. ...You-..You must've lost whatever that was. You exhaled a shaky sigh of relief and slumped back against the tree. Eyes closing as a wave of relief washed over your tired body. 

''What am I doing!? Don't just stand there like an idiot!! RUN!!''

You listened to your inner voice, you turned on your heels and began running again taking the opportunity given to you by the gods. You didn't care if you got lost this time, you only cared about living. And so through the darkness the abyss had to offer, you again ran. Not which direction you were heading. Not sure who you'd run into or if you got more lost, but you were darned determined to not be eaten tonight by anyone! Not today demons! Or..zombie.OR WHATEVER THE HECK THAT WAS! You only did what you did before. Your heels clicked against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. Your f/c eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your arms were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and this time the roots claiming your feet snagged onto a particularly large root, and a few feet you went tumbling.

Your screams of tumbling over a few feet were cut short as it felt like you hit every single root, rock, and hard spot on your way down. Pain exploded everywhere your body made contact with the ground until finally with a final thud, your body fell hard onto soft grass. Knocking the air out of your lungs and you gasping for air on your side. Your body was in pain from everywhere your body hit the ground and you were sure it would leave bruises and scratches later. You coughed and gasped for air, lungs burning but you nearly stopped breathing again when load ghost like moaning came from up the path that was DEFINITELY NOT wind making your body feel like it was dipped in ice as your heartbeats sore. No. Not more of them. Not again! Adrenaline kicked in now as your body wobbled and felt so light, not to mention hurt, as you forced yourself to stand and start walk-running away, swaying as you still gasped for air but your panicked state didn't care about the pain or anything as you somehow quickly got your balance back and started running through the dark. The sounds and darkness of the forest blocked almost all moonlight as you blindly ran to try and get away from the giant demons, to keep from being eaten. You ran...and ran...and ran blindly in the dark with your hands in front of you. Branches and other plants hitting your legs and face as you did, the sounds of the things behind you disappearing as you kept running. At one point you had the brilliant idea to look behind you to see if anything was following you-

"AH!"

Your foot once again got caught on something. You screamed as your body went tumbling head over heels down a hill in the dark. Your already sore and hurt body becoming even more so as you rolled and rolled and rolled until you finally came to a stop at the bottom of it onto your back, with your body facing the sky. Your vision swam and your head spun as you stared up dizzily at the sky as your vision slowly went around and around and around until it focused. And you gave a cough as your burning lungs heaved against your chest. Your heart feeling as if it'll explode any moment it was beating so fast, you couldn't stop it! You just sat there gasping and panting and clutching your chest. Your brain felt foggy. No...No. Don't black out now! Get up! COME ON GET UP!! Muscles burnt. Barely able to breath. The dirt and grass felt stinging cold and burnt your skin as you turned on your side to weakly lay on your stomach, your face gasping the sweet scent of grasses for a moment as you laid there for a sweet few silent seconds, before you allowed yourself to look up and you stopped..gasping heavily and staring at what was before you in awe.

The manor!! If you could get inside then you could wait for Taylor to get help or until daylight broke. Ignoring the pain in your ankle, you gathered up your dress in your arms, you heaved in worry as you wobble ran as fast as your legs could carry your body. It felt like an eternity scrambling to and then around the mansion not daring to look back. You knew it was ALWAYS a bad idea to look back during chases! Especially in horror movies. You'll be darned if you made the same mistake!  You made for the front. Practically beelining it to the old doors as they creaked and groaned under your force to throw them open and then slam them closed behind you. Your back presses against the cold thick wood and there you stood panting heavily. It felt like two fists were squeezing your lungs out of any air they sucked in at all. Your heart pounded hard enough in your chest to be mistaken for a drum in a parade. Your senses on fire yet on the same time highly alert. 

Whatever you woke up was out there. Whatever it was, was most definitely looking for you! What had you done to cause this?!

"Alack, alack." Your body nearly shut down. Frozen in place. "What blood is this which stains the stony entrance of this sepulcher?"

The temperature suddenly dropped to the point it felt like your body was freezing in your veins. Something in your brain screams at your legs to run but you couldn't move.

"W-What?! Who was that?! What's going on over there?! The signal keeps fading in and out!," Taylor's voice still sounded through but static-y and distant not that your fearful brain noticed.

Your jaw dropped as right at the top of the stairs someone... SOMETHING that looked like a man materialized slowly and out of nothing. Blur overtaking all its lightly translucent glory before a clash of lightning and a moment later it's eyes were opened and looking right down the flight of stairs and right at your own. 

"Fresh blood in my esteemed estate. Stained on a bundle of red roses no less. A tragic sight indeed but none quite as tragic as the sight of the one who stands before me so pray tell.." Lightning struck again and in an instant he went from the top of the stairs to literal feet away from you making you jump in fright. "Who are you and what is your purpose here?"

Your draw dropped in shock. Mouth too dry to speak and body too paralyzed to move. Fear gripping onto you tight. Only two words managing to escape you.

"I-I'm sorry," you squeaked out pathetically in a way that seemed to catch the spook off guard.

He blinked for a moment taken aback before he pulled away to stare. Blue otherworldly eyes scanned the trembling woman before him, slowly taking in the outfit she wore and how beautiful it made her look. A bridal attire. A lady's bridal attire. He hadn't seen one of those in nearly a century and a half.  This was... certainly a surprise. Not a thing he was expecting to show up to, nor had he really expected to be called out in such a manner...Yet here they both were.

"Your attire," he spoke slowly causing her to jump. "It's..rather unusual for a woman at this time of night and in such a strange situation. Are you about to hold a ceremony here of all places? Or are you perhaps waiting for a secret lover to appear, to run away together and elope?" He rose a brow. "I can not fathom why else you'd be dressed like this here of all places." He sighed when you still stared holding up a hand. "I do not need to offend or startle you. But I do have a right to ask after being summoned."

Dazed, shocked, and a little bit confused you only shook your head no. "N-No..N-None of T-That."

He only furrowed his brows in deeper confusion. "Then why are you here? Explain."

"I just-..." You slowly held up your hands. "Look. I-I think there's been a huge misunderstanding. Y-You see I-I was actually..Um.. It's actually h-hard to explain." He crossed his arms. Guess he literally had all eternity. "I was just looking for g-ghosts."

"Looking for...ghosts?" You nodded. "You were looking for me specifically then? I did hear you call out my family name several times."

"I..well yes B-But it was only because I w-wanted to actually see if you were here or not! I-I didn't mean to disturb you I swear! I only wanted to-...Well.."

He.. slowly nodded. And it dawned on you finally. Elias Gallagher. This was freaking Elias Gallagher!! Undead in all his ectoplasmic glory. You were talking to the ghost of a murder victim from nearly two hundred years ago!!

"I see. But that doesn't explain your strange attire. I do hope it wasn't too mock my late demise."

"A glass shattering sound went off in your mind. "WHAT?! NO!" You waved your hands with a startled look. "It's just that...Well I just happened to have this after.. something bad happened to me too a-and I heard something bad happened to your big day too! It's not mockery but...W-Well a way of saying that I know how you feel a-and I get that." It was the truth after all.

Your words took Elias by surprise staring at you in shock before you gained a look of pity from him. "Oh dear. You poor thing had experienced such a sorrow?"

You nodded sighing in relief. "Yes. I wasn't really..I mean I didn't experience anything like you but it was pretty bad."

"How do?"

"Well, for one he didn't even show up to our ceremony at all." Your words seemed to only surprise him more. "A-And he only showed up after everyone else left just to tell me that he still had feelings for his ex and it turns out that he never told them about me and I found out that I WAS the side woman all along!" A tang of anger hit you as you spoke.

"Side.. woman?"

"Oh... It's another term for a mistress." You guessed he wouldn't know modern slang like 'side piece'.

Elias looked appalled pressing a hand to his chest and at the same time looking at you in pity. "Oh goodness. It's not a wonder you'd turn to such ways to drastically heal yourself."

What did he mean by that? Ghost hunting? You shook your head. "Y-Yeah. Well that's in the past now so..."

"Oh you poor dear. You and I are not dissimilar at all in that regard. I am well acquainted with such tragedy, and know your wounds must be tended to at once. Tell me.." He smiled leaning closer. "Would you like to forget about the cur that broke your heart?"

You blinked shaking your head. "Ugh. I'd like to forget his stupid face but it's not that easy."

"Nonsense, my dear. What is your name perhaps?"

You blinked again. "You didn't even tell him your name did you?"

"Y/n. It's Y/n, Mr. Gallagher."

His smile widened. "Well then. Y/n, I vow to lift all of your anxiety and regrets for it is within my power for as long as you remain in these walls." You stared at him. Vow? What did he mean by vow? "To have you the same passionate way you had promised me." You jumped as a cold hand grabbed yours and held it up only to freeze as a second later a familiar golden ring was slipped onto your hand's ring finger. "Because now...Now even death won't do us part."

You stared mouth agape as a ghostly hand delicately reached out to cup your cheek. You involuntarily shivered. It felt like cold cobwebs against the skin. "W-What are you talking about?"

"Your vows. You said them so perfectly when presenting me your token of affection." He held up your hand with his making you look at his ghostly hand and freezing more seeing both hands have a matching lightly red stained golden band. "Of course I'd accept it."

Your body froze more becoming rigid..Until your world spun. Light swirled and ground swayed. Until black enveloped your vision. Your body leaned to the right. And the last thing you felt was two cold arms wrapping pulling you into a much colder chest.

[princehendir]

Do you want to elaborate about the alice postpartum post 👉👈

Yeah actually. I kinda do!

[cw: mental health issues, emotional abuse, some gaslighting, implied reproductive coercion. Probably some other stuff.]

So. Alice spends most of Shaun's baby-hood feeling like he's Not Real, though she's not really able to articulate what exactly she means by that, as well being kind of generally aware that it's not true, despite the fact that it feels really really true. That's not a real baby, and if it is a real baby it's definitely not her baby. Which she knows isn't rational but can't quite shake.

She also off-and-on feels like she's Not Real, other people Aren't Real, the world isn't Real, etc. which she was already having a problem with during the pregnancy but it got worse after the birth. Lots of depersonalization/derealization issues. Some of it is definitely the hormones but the emotional manipulator husband who Gently Encouraged her to keep a baby she wasn't 100% sure about (among other things) definitely also contributed.

The pregnancy went very well physically though, despite her emotional/mental issues. And the fact that Nate keeps using the term "easy pregnancy" (we're so lucky!) is slowly turning her evil.

She also gets increasingly paranoid about Codsworth the longer he's in the house. Really convinced that he's Up To Something and either talking to the police about her or spying on her for Nate, who she thinks might have bought him for specifically that reason (it's unclear how plausible this actually is).

Paranoid in general also, after the birth. Like, is worried that the neighbors Know Things about her, that the police are coming any minute, that sort of thing. And unfortunately a lot of her paranoia isn't fully without basis. She & Nate are very much living under stolen identities because they have warrants out. And Nate is kind of getting too into/overselling his whole "I'm a veteran" thing (he's not, to be clear) and there's genuine reason to worry that he might get cocky and blow their cover. So this is the stuff that's hardest for her to manage while she's trying to get her stuff together enough to get out.

(If I never mentioned this, part of her whole deal is that the day the bombs dropped was also the day she was planning on leaving him and starting over on the west coast. Like she had this whole thing worked out where she was going to slip out while he was giving his little speech at the Veterans Hall (which again, insane & ill-advised thing to do given that he's not actually a veteran and living under a stolen identity, but we don't need to go into all that rn) and get in her car and just start driving. Shaun was not actually part of this plan until like two days before, when she decided that it felt morally weird to her to abandon a baby even if it still didn't really feel like Her Baby.)

(The paranoia actually ends up fucking this plan up for her. She freaks herself out and tries to leave early because she thinks Nate's onto her (he isn't) and then he catches her packing a bag and finally figures out what's going on. They're actively fighting in the nursery and he's trying to prevent her from leaving when the news alert comes on about the bombs. In a weird irony, the war starting when it did was kind of lucky for her, because we were hitting "this is about to escalate, worried neighbors are calling 911" around that point and I'm not really sure what would've happened otherwise.)

Also, on the subject of Nate, she does start to think about killing him a lot. Which, to be fair, she also thinks about when she's more lucid (normal side effect of Nate exposure imo) but for a while there it definitely falls more on the "violent intrusive thoughts/violent impulses" end of the scale than the "morally bad but rational murder fantasy" one. This is actually what spurs her into working on an exit plan, it was either leaving or murder, and one of those is slightly easier to get away with.

She's doing a lot better during the main part of fo4, which is nice. But the fact that she was unwell & not really able to bond with Shaun when he was a baby really contributes to a lot of how she handles the main plotline. She doesn't feel as strongly about what happened as she thinks* she should, and she's not really sure what to do about that. Lying about how much she misses her baby feels wrong, but being honest feels a lot worse.

*thinks that other people think?

[morallygreyvigilante]

is there anything you think could've been done to improve the hiromi arc in assclass?

At a basic level, the main issues with the Hiromi arc is that it was both introduced very close to the end of the story and also that it was resloved way too abruptly to be believable. So, there's three possible options that would've made more sense:

One:

Hiromi doesn't get redeemed. This is the option that I know a lot of people would've prefered (or at least, that was the general attitude I observed - and shared - back when I first got into the series).

Hiromi was shown to be abusive, and it's not like she was overly concerned about keeping up the "caring parent" facade in front of Korosensei when it became clear that he wasn't just going to bow down to her demands unless it was something that Nagisa himself wanted.

Now, I can perhaps understand nothing being done about her following that incident because this was the first time any of Nagisa's teachers had interacted with her. All three of them are shown to be good judges of character (barring one or two incidents) so maybe they should've picked up on it, but I guess her behaviour could be brushed off as her just having a bad day since none of them really have a good general idea of what she's usually like. It's a flimsy excuse, but it happens.

However, what can't - or shouldn't - be excused were her later actions. Not only did she drug Nagisa, but she also attempted to force him to commit arson, which I'm pretty damn sure is illegal and definitely would've been enough to warrant some kind of professional intervention.

A parent who is willing to drug and endanger their own child in such a manner is not one who would be quick to change. Nagisa's sudden willingness to stand up to her would not be taken as lightly as it was, especially considering her earlier response to him standing up to her in that same episode.

A more believable ending to the arc would've either involved Nagisa being removed from his mother's care or, at the very least, things remaining tense between the two of them. Her attitude certainly wouldn't have realistically changed by the end of the next episode.

Two:

Hiromi gets introduced a lot earlier.

I mentioned that the other issue with the Hiromi arc was how late in the series it got brought up. Sure, we weren't too far into the second season (because I'm not entirely sure when it was brought up in the manga) but, with how close we were starting to get to the "earth goes boom" deadline, the action was noticeably speeding up.

There were hints earlier on in the series that Nagisa's home life wasn't ideal, including (but not limited to):

His natural talent for assassination/his bloodlust

His discomfort when teased about his appearance

He talks about how his parents never "looked him in the eye", plus the scene with his father where we find out his parents had separated at some point

Now, each of these things on their own (and before Hiromi makes her appearance) are pretty harmless. The kids are being trained for assassination, of course one or two of them would start showcasing more talent for it. A lot of people are sometimes insecure about their appearance, especially when they're young. And it's not exactly uncommon for people to have family problems, hell from some of the stuff that gets mentioned over the course of the series, there aren't many kids in that class whose parents would be winning "parent of the year" awards.

It's not until Hiromi actually shows up that those, initially minor, issues are revealed to go a lot deeper. It can, and does - at least, on a first watch - feel very sudden.

For a redemption arc to feel believable here, it would've made more sense to have Hiromi - and the way she treated Nagisa - revealed earlier on in the series. That way, there could've been a more gradual change over several episodes, we probably wouldn't have actually seen a lot of it since Hiromi is mostly a background/side character and the series is largely focused on the class as a whole. But it wouldn't have been too out of place to add the occasional reference to Nagisa's home situation, either through him commenting on it or through subtle hints similar to the ones that were used to hint at the abuse previously.

Three:

This one's probably the more controversial option, but having Hiromi introduced as just being a strict parent instead of an abusive one would've been a lot more believable when you consider just how quickly the matter was resolved.

Her wanting Nagisa to leave the E class in general makes a lot of sense considering the purpose the E class was shown to serve in the earlier episodes, especially when you consider how the rest of the school treats them. A lot of parents would most likely want their child to be removed from such a situation as soon as possible, and they likely wouldn't understand why their child was so determined to stay where they were. They'd likely just brush it off as stubbornness.

Those little hints I previously mentioned that pointed to Nagisa's home life would've still made sense if Hiromi was just strict.

If Hiromi was simply a strict parent, then her seeminly sudden change in attitude would've made a lot more sense. A parent who is simply strict would be a lot easier to convince that Nagisa's insitence wasn't just him being stuborn or ungrateful and it's unlikely that she would've flown off the handle as drastically as she did in canon.

In this case, her redemption arc wouldn't have seem rushed because the issue wouldn't have been as explosive as it was in the anime.

[reborrowing]

a mouse in the basement - part 1/?

next

sorry for starting 546 stories instead of finishing things. kind of. this isn't as writery for me to work on. chapters linked in my pinned

David has been imprisoned. He's not sure where, he's not sure why, but he has no chance of freeing himself. Except now he's not quite alone. Kikitok links are here, if you want to try and puzzle out what the borrower character is saying throughout (more relevant later, honestly) word count: ~800 content: kidnapping & captivity, blood/injury, restraints, ~language barrier~ kind of a disclaimer note that arguably this should go on my whump blog instead of here, thematically speaking. But the point is more to flex my conlang (even if that's not yet obvious in this piece) and this blog is where I've been putting Kíkítok. I'm not really including particularly graphic violence or torture etc anyway

The only things to do in the basement were sleep and wonder why he’d been brought here. David was tired of both. The first few days, he had wrestled with the chain around his ankles and the ties around his wrist. He’d resigned himself to the aches of having his arms pinned behind his back for hours. He’d waddled around the perimeter in search of an escape. He hadn’t found one. He hadn’t even found a reason why he was here.

He didn’t think he was important enough to warrant a ransom and whoever was holding him down here only bothered to acknowledge him for about forty-five minutes per day. That was only to keep him fed. He imagined all kinds of horrible scenarios about being sold and enslaved or killed off for his organs, but he’d been down here for weeks. He didn’t have dignity but he wasn't really being humiliated either. Nothing happened, he was just locked in this crushing, monotonous isolation.

David slipped back into consciousness and stared up at the thin window on the far wall. It was still dark out. He hummed to himself, imagining words he couldn’t form through the duct tape over his mouth.

Something fell past the window.

It was such a brief flash that in any other context, if there was anything else happening, David wouldn’t have even noticed it. Something small and metal plinked across the floor. After several days of pretending to watch paint dry for entertainment, it may as well have been a fireworks show.

He didn’t waste the energy to stand and shuffled across the basement on his knees, chains clattering behind him. On the floor, almost glittering in the moonlight, was a thumbtack that hadn’t been there before. David hobbled forward towards it, trying to imagine something he could do with it. It was the only sharp thing he’d found down here and he really wanted it to be useful in some way, but it was too short to pick his cuffs or the locks around his ankles, even if he had the dexterity to try. He left it where it lay.

Another flash of movement drew his eyes to a small shadow along the wall.

Mouse, he thought at first, then, what the hell?!

The creature there was mouse-sized, as they hunched against the wall it was clear they had a perfectly humanoid shape, even covered up in a tiny gray dress. It was just that they couldn’t be more than a few inches tall. Tiny black eyes glittered up from underneath a miniature hood.

Is this real? Did the man upstairs do this to you? Is this what I’m here for?

They stared at each other for several seconds, both looking terrified. The creature—person?—took several steps to the right to start looking for an escape. David wished she would find one, but knew there was no way out but up, even for a mouse.

“Ah-I’m sorry. Pease, don’t hurt me,” the tiny thing gasped.

David shook his head no, eyes wide. He automatically started to protest that he would ever do such a thing but the duct tape over his mouth caught the words before they could get out. All he could do was stare at the poor thing.

Whatever she was, her situation was at least as bad as David’s, probably worse. Her skirt and her coat, which was fastened with a single button nearly the size of her head, were both dripping wet. She clutched at her side as if in pain and her already tiny steps were slowed by a severe limp.

David sat down and tried to look as harmless as possible (he felt most of this had already been done for him, what with the restraints). He wished he could do more to try and calm the woman's nerves. Communication was next to impossible with both hands and tongue held back. He nodded his head towards himself in a “come here” gesture that was much vaguer than he’d like.

The little woman shook her head and continued her hobbling retreat.

David leaned forward and tried again. You’re freezing, he thought as he watched her squeeze himself behind a table leg and hunker down. The cement floors would only make the cold worse. He mimed shivering as best as he could with his arms behind his back and nodded towards her, then stopped as he nodded back toward himself. Let me help you.

“I’m sorry, piyískasara wun. I’m sorry.”

David furrowed his brow as he tried to parse what the woman said before registering it as another language. He leaned back and sighed.

He refused to let the little stranger die. If he couldn’t help directly, he could still share. The shitty camping cot he’d been allowed had come with an equally shitty fleece blanket, the sort you leave in the closet for decades. Slowly and awkwardly, he kicked it across the room. It was thin and hardly any comfort to David, but it would be more than excessive for the mouse-woman on the other side of the room, presuming she was real.

[h3rmitsunited]

Steddie one-shot (Inspired by this drawing of Eddie with some Steve induced scratches on his back) (Robin finds out something interesting about Steve and Eddie that she maybe didn't need to know so much about, but ifs her own fault for being nosy. Lol)

Tiger Stripes on Ao3

Words: 1810

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The Party gets used to looking out for signs that Eddie is hurt. He doesn't like talking about it, likes to pretend things are okay, that he doesn't still get hassled when he goes to the grocery store or shoved up against the side of his van when he goes to get gas. It doesn't happen all the time, but they know it happens enough to matter. He doesnt like them to worry, so they make sure to be subtle about looking for bruises and scrapes and that wild, frantic look in his eyes he gets when something happened recently.

It wasn't enough to keep him safe, but it helped him feel a little less alone when something did happen.

And when Steve seemed to appoint himself Eddie's unofficial security guard, constantly watching, always vigilant, quick to offer a bottle of water or a bandage or ice pack, Robin wasn't surprised at all. Steve was always a bit of a mother hen and after dragging Eddie out of the Upside Down on the brink of bleeding to death, his instincts to protect and fuss seemed to hit overdrive, and Eddie was at the center of that even after his wounds had pretty much healed.

They were at Family Video on a boring and slow Wednesday morning. Steve was reshelving some movies, patently ignoring the steadily rising volume of the argument Robin and Eddie were having about some random detail of the Back to the Future movie, as it played quietly on the TV in the background. Robin is practically vibrating as the scene they were arguing over came on, and their argument went silent for a brief few seconds before Robin exploded in a victorious shout.

"Yes! See! I told you!!" Robin grinned, slapping her hand across Eddie's back, excitedly.

Eddie yelped and flinched away, the genuine pained sound ceasing Robin's victory tour in an instant. Steve looked up from the aisle, frowning.

"Shit, Eddie, sorry. Are you okay?" She hadn't slapped him that hard. It shouldn't have hurt him enough to warrant that reaction unless... he was already hurt. Eddie's expression shifted quickly to a tight casual mask and he grinned, waving a hand. He was backing up a bit, clearly uncomfortable.

"Fine, Buckley. You got some arm on you! You should really be on the drums, not tooting your little horn." He laughed brightly, shaking his head. Steve had wandered over, his lips pressed into a tight line, eyeing Eddie carefully. Robin could tell he was worried with the way he was watching him. She was too.

"You sure? We've got some ice in the back, if you need it." She tried to keep the worried tone out of her voice, knowing how it triggered Eddie's urge to deny and run. If he was actually hurt, she didn't want him moping alone at home about it.

"Yeah, good. Great. I'm fine." Eddie rubbed a hand over his neck, but she could tell from the uncomfortable way he was standing, and the fact that he wasn't wearing his trademark leather jacket, just a thin band tee today, that his back was bothering him.

Something had definitely happened.

Steve was always better at getting him to open up about this stuff, and usually by now he would have said something, but he was suspiciously quiet. Robin sent him a pointed look and he flinched, pressing his lips tighter together. She widened her eyes at him, sending a telepathic message for him to get his shit together and make Eddie confess or she was going to shave his precious hair off his big dumb head. By the huff of breath and the slight clearing of his throat, she was pretty sure at least half the message got through.

"You sure you don't want some ice, Eds? You do seem a little... sore." Steve asked, his question sounding more like an apology than an interrogation. He even winced softly at the end, like he already knew the extent of Eddie's injuries.

Robin frowned. Where was inquisitor Steve? Eddie was never going to tell them which Hawkins dickhead had beat the hell out of his back at this rate, and if he was really hurt... well, they needed to know! They were his friends! He could trust them with this stuff, and he had trusted them before, so why was this any different?

"I'm good, Steve." There was a soft warning in his tone, the barest hint of a smile followed by a slight raise of his eyebrows, and Steve seemed to back off, turning back to Robin with a shrug.

"See, he's fine. Can we go back to work?"

Robin frowned, deeper and angrier. Seriously? Steve was just giving up!? 

She groaned, shaking her head. "No! Eddie, come on. I know you don't like talking about this stuff, but you're clearly in pain. What happened? Was it those basketball kids again? I thought Hopper was going to sort them out, but if they're chasing you down again, we can call him and-"

"It's not them, Buckley, relax, okay!"

Eddie and Steve seemed to realize Eddie's mistake at the same time, but it was too late.

"So, it was someone! I knew it! We're your friends, Eddie. You need to tell us what happened, so we can help you! Are you okay? What'd they do? Can we see your back? We should probably look at your back, in case you need like stitches or bandages or whatever. Are you cut? Bleeding, infected?" Robin started reached for Eddie's shirt and he backed up, putting his hands up between them, laughing awkward and nervous.

"Robin, leave him alone, okay? He said he's good." Steve reached a hand over the counter, resting it on her forearm. His expression was soft, pleading, insistent. He glanced over at Eddie, that apologetic look on his face again. Robin shook her head.

"You're saying this, Steve? You're usually the first to be on Eddie about this stuff!? He's clearly hurt and hiding it, and he knows we want to help, so just... let us help. Please. We all worry about you because we love you." She turned back to Eddie for the last sentence.

Eddie glanced at Steve, who let out a soft sigh and shrugged. Robin could recognize that there was a conversation happening like the conversations that she and Steve have, but felt like she was definitely missing half the vocabulary to know what was being said. Eddie grinned and rolled his eyes.

"Alright. But you can't say shit to anyone about this, okay?"

Robin huffed, internally cheering herself for winning this verbal battle. She rolled her eyes. "Who would I tell? You're basically my only friends."

Eddie smiled again, a mischievous little smirk and then he turned, reaching around carefully to tug up the back of his shirt.

Long red scratches covered his back like claw marks... like he'd been attacked by something. Robin's face fell and her heart started pounding, her mind instantly going to demodogs and bats and monsters, and she looked to Steve to gauge his reaction, expecting panic and urgency on his face too, but there wasn't.

He was...

Blushing.

He was looking at Eddie's back and... Blushing. And smiling, like he was... 

Like... like...

Robin turned back to the marks, focusing her attention on the way they were angled, not like something had slashed at Eddie from behind, but... like something had been wrapped around his front and...

"Oh my god."

Robin felt her face burning and dropped her head into her hands. Eddie snorted and lowered his shirt back down. Steve pointedly not looking at either of them.

"Yeah, turns out your little platonic soulmate here, is a bit of a tiger in the sack. Kitty's got claws. Mrow." Eddie clawed the air, grinning.

"Oh my god, Eddie," Steve groaned and dropped his head against the counter dramatically.

Eddie snickered. "Funny, that's kind of what it soun-"

"OH MY GOD. STOP. PLEASE." Robin slapped her hands over her ears, shaking her head. "I love you both and I'm happy for you, but, oh my god! I can't believe I'm being punished for being nice and worrying about you!" 

Eddie laughed, dragging her into a tight hug and pressing a loud kiss to the top of her head.

"You sure you don't want to hear all about it? You were so curious about all those nasty bruises on my neck last week."

Robin gasped in betrayal, eyes wide as she looked between the two of them. The traitors! She jabbed a finger at Steve.

"You! You fucking liar! You said you beat the guy that did that!"

Steve flushed darker red, clenching his jaw.

Eddie shook his head and tutted with a frown. "Oh, Stevie, really? Lying to your best friend? For shame."

Steve waved a hand out. "No. No no, technically I didn't lie, okay? What I told you was that I knew the guy that did that... and he'd been-" Steve swallowed, rolling his eyes at the amused anticipation on Eddie's face- "punished." He let the final word slide out like he knew it was coming, but he couldn't stop it. The embarrassed flush deepened.

Robin's eyes somehow grew wider and she let out a half-shriek, half-groan as Eddie literally collapsed to the floor in laughter.

"No. Nope." She stepped over Eddie's prone and cackling body, shaking her head. Steve straightened up, pouting like a sad embarrassed puppy. "You-" she jabbed Steve in the chest- "can finish our shift today because I need to... I don't know. Read some girl magazine or take a long bath or something." She shuddered and pinched her brow. "Don't like... do anything... in the break room..."

She rolled her eyes at Eddie who had shuffled up on the floor and was peeking over the counter, only his head up to his collar showing. She pointed at him, glaring.

"I mean it, Munson. I use that couch."

"Rob, look, I-"

Robin cut off Steve shaking her head. "Whatever you're going to try to apologize for, dingus, save it. I'm not mad... I'm happy you two figured your shit out, but I really do not need the... details or what you're getting up to and I need to scrub the image of- "she waved a hand at Eddie- "your animal attack out of my brain, 'kay?" 

Steve seemed relieved and still embarrassed, which Robin could live with. They could do with a little bit of lighthearted shame. From the proud look on Eddie's face, he might need a little bit more, but she'd let them have their fun... for now. Hopefully, not too much...

She clocked out, giving them one more pointed glare before heading out and keeping her thoughts away from that weird stain she'd noticed appear on the couch cushion last month. 

Ugh. Boys.

[neostriatum]

Thermodynamic equilibrium

[Dreamwidth]

-

He held his general's life in his hands. It wasn't the first time, and all he needed was to keep his grip.

-

Another droid goes down, and he flexes his hand, feeling the creaking of his armor as the plastoid fractures just the slightest bit more under the stress. Obi-Wan is behind him, panting silently – he only knows this from the press of his general’s side against him, staying propped up by sheer force of will despite the hastily-staunched wound in his side.

There wasn’t enough bacta, having passed his off to another trooper while he was en route to Kenobi’s rendezvous point, the crackling comm message still echoing in his ears as his HUD keeps a running tally of casualties on the field. Despite the numbers increasing at a regular rate, they were making good time in their battle plans. It was a typical exfil mission of a Jedi that had been working on a Separatist-held territory, with Skywalker working from Coruscant to ensure the end point of the Jedi’s travel was secured.

If it were earlier in the war, it would have been a riskier strategy, but many norms had been thrown out of the airlock. Shifting as he heard a sound, Cody tapped on his helmet, adjusting his screen settings to look around the bend of the bombed-out building he and his general were using as cover. The smoke from the competing cannons from both armies made it hazardous to see much, and from the suppressed rasping of his general, worse to breathe. He licked his lips, worried even as he exhaled to steady his pulse.

The way looked mostly deserted, and he took a moment to check on Kenobi, moving carefully so they always kept a continuous point of contact. Still, even the smoothest of transitions still made the man tense in pain, and he resisted the urge to hold the other close, not needing a connection to the Force to know their pool of relative safety could be disturbed at any moment. Kenobi leaned wearily into his chest, one hand on his ’saber and eyes holding the vague glaze that told him the general was using said Force to hold himself together and act as lookout at the same time.

Cody wished he could admire his general’s dedication to be useful, but right now all it made him was frustrated and heart-sore, knowing from harsh experience that any Jedi – and particularly Kenobi, with his history of throwing himself into the Force as its acting hand – sustaining such active contact in a war zone could result in potentially permanent neurological damage. He almost wished he had listened to the medics about what to carry with him, but between the accoutrements as commander and navigating an entire systems army, medical devices that could monitor and ward off seizures fell distressingly low on the list.

“Koyaci, Kote,” Kenobi murmured, the man’s lips dry even as his eyes were nearly luminescent with the Force, pulling the thought straight from their latent bond. He wanted to choke on a laugh, unsure if it would morph into a sob, choosing instead to press around the edges of the wound to see if it had bled beyond its bandages and wondering how many he could plaster on top of each other before his general truly risked bleeding out. A hand laid over his, ’saber between them and carrying a hum audible even to his Force-deaf ears, “All will be well. We need to move.”

He nodded, inhaling sharply and considering the HUD read-out of his own vitals. There was going to be bruising on his hands regardless, but so far he had avoided anything warranting true medical attention. Checking the power on his blaster reflexively, he shuffled Kenobi closer to him, readying them to make the next point in their path back to the battalion. Nothing stood out even as his skin prickled in uneasiness. Clear enough.

One finger resting at readiness on the trigger, Cody led them through the slowly-settling haze, footsteps on uneven, broken ground muffled by the distant din of dying clankers and the reverb of cannons. Kenobi’s laboured breathing was his timepiece, calculating how much time they had and the rate they needed to move as he kept a firm grip on his general’s hand. The reciprocal grip was barely there, but it was there, and he gripped onto that hope like a lifeline.

It was obvious, now, when they were about to run across a droid. The place was deserted enough that there was only the cursory patrols, clanking metal alerting them more clearly than a HUD or the Force ever could. He kept his blaster at the ready, having surreptitiously dialed down the power in favour of silence and picking his shots carefully to disable them. Without fail, the combatants fell in a heap of sparking metal, and he let the satisfaction drift across his bond with Kenobi, bolstering the both of them.

They were pushed into a delicate balance of stealth and a dwindling clock, Cody stopping as often as he could to check on the blood-sodden bandages and murmuring a little prayer when necessary. Sometimes Kenobi even mouthed them along with him, a wisp of air that might have passed as speech if he were unencumbered by trying to keep them both alive to the rendezvous point. A part of him wishes that he didn’t need to wear his helmet – but then, he only ever took his helmet off when he was assured of the safety of the situation. This was no battleship painted in their colours, sailing amidst a fleet of their own and protected on all quarters.

He had miles to go until they could sleep, curled around each other and safe even from the bustle of the infirmary. Kenobi brushed a thumb weakly upon his own, both of them having reduced to holding hands as Cody focused on making sure they were cleared to shuffle across each uncomfortably open space. The next point in their path is within eyesight, faintly obscured in the artificial gloom, and he squeezes the hand in his, gesturing with a tilt of head toward it.

Defining signals had long since passed, and he knew the message was received for Kenobi to brace himself, the tight inhale his only response before he’s quickly scouting the area as he half-drags the general with him. One hand is held aloft and aiming instinctively in front of him in a loose, narrow sweep.

Kenobi must shift wrong, he must, because he gasps, the noise distracting him from the steady clank-clank-clank of an incoming droid patrolling. The loss of Kenobi's hand in his is as rattling as the three shots he fires on muscle memory alone, gripping tightly onto the corner of his mind that contains everything he cherishes about his general. He prays once more, knowing it’s the only thing that would stick until they were back under the tender wings of their troops, and takes his eyes off the next sight line to look for Kenobi behind him.

On some miracle, a currency he’s not willing to barter in, Kenobi isn’t thrown entirely to the ground. A couple hurried steps forward is all it takes for him to reach the other, one arm scooping around Kenobi's side and rucking the man close enough to imagine the thundering heartbeat that must surely echo his own. He glances quickly ahead, a scan for danger that proves no immediate concern, and then beside him to the sight of Kenobi's clenched jaw and furrowed brow.

Alive, though. Cody can work with that.

They’re out of bacta patches, bandages, and creative improvisation, so instead he clamps his hand on Kenobi's side, applying pressure with strength of desperation alone. It draws a shudder from his general, and he wants to sympathize, if he had any room in his situational assessment for a gram of weakness. He doesn’t, though, all of it being used up on allowing Kenobi his.

He grits his teeth, wishing he at least had the forethought to switch overlays on his HUD to better see through the gloom and the digital beacon he had set up on the battlemap. They weren’t there yet, and his vision was hazed in solar diffraction, the amber colouring muting extraneous tones.

Regardless, they’re still too far in the open to think too much. He briefly tightens his grip, enough to rouse Kenobi, vocoder transmuting the murmur to a whisper of voiced static, “Are you ready?”

Kenobi shifts in his grip – too easily, he thinks, and muffles that thought down along with its accompanying swell of panic – but finally assents with a nod that could well be a loll of the head. He takes it, knowing there wasn’t enough time to clarify matters, and mentally goes through the remainder of their route again, designating checkpoints with only mild despair that each stop would be in easy eyesight of each other. Still, it was better to take small steps that were more likely to succeed than large ones with a high chance of failure.

The next hideaway structure was close, and Kenobi made a good game of it, steps stealthy even as their cover was burned away by bright sunshine poking through the haze. He refused to look backwards, memorizing the feel of his general’s shoulders nestled into the crook of his arm as they snuck forward, his gaze alert to any unusual movement.

He didn’t want to say it was too quiet, but- But. Cody had already switched his pistol to his off-hand, and that required more concentration than he was willing to allocate when it came to compensating for his aim. They had only the scarcest of dust in the air to hide them, whisper-thin shadows that coiled around their boots and eddied in their steps. Beside him, Kenobi was still breathing.

It took him a moment to realize he was murmuring to himself, an unconscious bid to keep the general with him. Names rolled off his tongue, memorized in order, a long line of those marching ahead that stretched far back into his youth. They were weighted with grief, with that dangerous edge of wishful thinking. Nobody ever marched alone in this war, ghosts of their brethren invisible to the realities of the day but nevertheless clearing their way. He sucked in a breath, refusing to falter in the litany as he refused to falter in delivering his general to the rendezvous point.

Another droid nears them, loud in its chatter as it patrolled. The increased security was disconcerting for the problems it borrowed, but relieving in that he knew the ship’s radar would be able to track the shift in troop movement from orbit, changing their countdown to something more in their favour. The change in plans occurred swift as thought, both of them moving in sync as they decided to sneak up on the droid. Cody had the feeling that this was one of the last droids for a while, and also that it was Kenobi who had that feeling. He could almost feel himself grin, “Not always bad feelings, are they?”

Kenobi’s smirk was in his subdued voice, keeping pace with him in belying easiness even as his words were thinly spoken, “Statistically likely, my dear.”

They proceed to the next checkpoint, without visible haste but unrelentingly. Their shuffle step was muffled only by the ambient noise, one more rock kicked down the road along with many others. He wanted to tell himself that they were getting closer to their destination, but he knew that it was only a fact when they had already arrived.

The latent ping along their bond buoys him, the quiet affection tendrilled beneath the subtle nudge in his mind reminiscent of early morning tea and studious reflections of incoming orders. It has the entirely expected benefit of warning him of the next patrol – something that makes him want to smile fondly, Kenobi always keeping watch wherever he could – and Cody takes advantage of the blooming rays of sunshine at their backs to disguise them from the cheap and mass-produced optical sensors these droids had, a practiced wind-up that made the delivered punch all the more satisfying for the fact that it dropped like a sack of tarpa roots.

He rotated his wrist, feeling the ache reverberate down from their rush fleeing to another minuscule checkpoint to their rendezvous point. The silence was relative, and he kept one ear cocked to the fractured sound of his general’s breathing, hoping it wasn’t a timer that ran out before they could flag down a trooper. “Cody,” Obi-Wan whispered, ensnaring his attention without any special tricks at all. He turned in the loose circle of his general’s hold, one arm firm over the man’s armor and carefully away from the wound he deeply suspected was escaping its impromptu bandaging. The other’s eyes were beginning to glaze, making his heart pick up its pace. Before he could speak – probably something stiffly concerned, unused to handling Obi-Wan's injuries at such a severe level without some back-up better than creativity – his attention was riveted to the hand in his, a lethally defensive weapon pressed between their grips, “Will you- will you take care of him?” Looking back at Obi-Wan made his eyes ache, as much from the vulnerability as from the bright rays of the sun his helmet had trouble filtering out from the shadows of his general. He licks his lips, too slight for the muscle ticks to be picked up by his HUD, gives a short nod, “We take care of our own,” he said, knowing by Kenobi's sigh that his sentiment was understood. As Anakin was Obi-Wan's family, and as Obi-Wan was… was his, that made Anakin Cody's family by proxy. He grips the lightsaber in his hand, feeling the pulse of its heart in time to the fluttering beat of its holder, feeling at once at peace and uneasy at the belief in him, “But you're going to tell him yourself, understood?” Obi-Wan nods, exhaling as he slumps against him, “Understood, Commander. Get us out of here.” He presses his head against his general, knowing he would have followed that order even if it were never voiced. They either made it out together or not at all, his mind decided long before he knew Obi-Wan could smile at him with weary wryness, fingers wet with his own blood latching on to Cody’s armor in a bid for another moment of strength. His HUD was ticking off his general’s vitals, scattered from their baseline and sent to languish in the background of running data fed to him from their environment, “I have you.” A brilliant smile, eclipsing the waning late afternoon sun before fading away on the heels of Obi-Wan's wavering consciousness, “You do.”

Taking in a sturdy breath, he recollects their position, eyes sweeping across their surroundings and the HUD alike. He spends the interim time with a firm grasp upon both his general and the man’s weapon, attention split to try and reconnect his helmet to the trooper ’net, leaning on the tendril of Kenobi's mind in his own, as sure as if their hands were still twined lazily together. It’s difficult to carry him the last klick with the sound of his helmet running through the ’net diagnostics he ordered it to run in the background, the ion cannons and other artillery having obscured the connection until the dust could settle.

He can hear Obi-Wan's thoughts in the back of his head, a subconscious murmur that let him know there was more to the man than a weakening pulse and bleeding wound. It made him grip the ’saber tighter, feeling like a part of his general’s soul was there in his hands, vulnerable crystal encased in steel – very much like its wielder, a reassuring beat of energy he could coordinate his worries to.

-

They had been working to triangulate some sort of signal, patching through different protocols for noise and trying to get a match on voice patterns they had on record. Skywalker was busy in Coruscant, and they couldn’t even borrow R2 at the moment. The trooper rubbed his fingers together, setting them back on the keyboard to try another route, a brother next to him working on a map as data was fed in live. Commander Cody was with the general, so the situation was either a waiting game or an emergency they hadn’t planned for.

A ping came in on his headset, and he tapped it to let the message go through, “This is Trooper Iron. Name and message, please.”

“Trooper Whoop here,” There was static crackling on the line, and Iron tapped a few controls, smoothing the connection out, “We’re seeing a dust cloud about ten klicks east of us, unusual activity.”

He glanced at his CO, tilting his head and adding the other to the line as the Captain stepped forward. Heart thumping, he inhaled, “Captain Sixes is on the line. Want to repeat that?”

“Sir,” Whoop’s verbal salute was crisp over the comms, “We’ve got a dust cloud about ten klicks east and unusual activity. Permission to check it out?”

Iron shared a look with Sixes, aware that the general chatter in the Comms room had dulled as soon as the conversation had registered. It was unusual activity, especially as the battle was winding down – the only thing missing was their general and commander. His captain looked at the map next to him, the trooper obligingly turning his chair so their CO could get a better look. A twitch of lips, and the captain tapped his own comm, “You have a go, Whooper. We’ll send someone to rendezvous with you.”

He grinned at the pleased “Sir” in Whooper’s voice, leaning back into his chair. Iron clapped a hand on his shoulder, “Good work, troopers.”

There were no shortage of volunteers to fetch their officers, but someone had to make sure the lights were still on at home, as General Kenobi was fond of saying. Beside him, the map was swiftly updated.

Ten klicks didn’t seem like that great of a distance, if one discounted the middling ravine that took a couple of hours for the engineers to pop a bridge over. Whoop couldn’t help the bounce in his step as he walked over to Booker, watching the trooper patch the signal from Comms over to a mobile unit that boosted its range. “Are we gonna be able to reach them with that?”

“Soon as I’m done getting through all the interference,” Booker replied, pointing to where the bridge was, all freshly unrolled like one of those luxury carpets in the Senate that Skywalker was gossiping about one time. Theirs was cooler, though, he decided, settling his hands over his rifle as he watched the faint flickering of the lights bobbing on the bridge nearly in time with Booker’s one-handed typing, “I’m adjusting the signal buoys so we can get a direct line between the commander and comms.”

Way cooler, He thinks smugly, wanting to let out a small whoop at it. With the way the nearby troopers tilted their helmets at him in amusement, he figured they knew.

His comm crackles in that particular way that lets him know Booker is running a diagnostic and hooking them up to a patched terminal, “Aaaand we have a go, sir. Whenever you’re ready.”

This time he doesn’t stop the delighted sound, one loud whoop! as he pats his rifle, striding forward, “Let’s get ’em home!”

At the ripple of identical whoops echoing out as half the troopers packed up and fell in line, he grinned. Best bridge ever.

-

When his comms clicked in, Cody almost startled. Almost, because if he did, he might have dropped his general, and that was an absolute no-go. Instead he hauled in a breath, meeting the faint, quizzical tug through the Force resounding through the ’saber in his hand.

“Almost there,” he murmured, keeping the unlit blade at the ready position, scanning for any last-minute clankers that might pop in on them, “Just got a ping, might be closer to our pick-up than I think.”

Obi-Wan spared him a delicate snort, both of them knowing that Cody rarely misjudged a distance. The man had been slowing down in incremental steps, breathing so steady it had to be intentional. He tamped down on his worry, not wanting it to swamp him with the fatigue that he was keeping at bay with positive thoughts. It was slow going, but at least they didn’t have much of a reason to be out of breath.

He tilted his head closer to Obi-Wan's for a moment, counting the breaths. Not too much of a reason, anyway.

The temperature gauge in one corner of his HUD registered the climbing temperature, mostly through the tint of infrared he had turned on a couple of check-points back, when the dust had first begun to settle. It wasn’t on so much for the clankers as it was his general, a quicker way of tracking vitals than trying to see how much blood was soaking through the compression bandage. The method was also better for his sanity, as well, despite how often he and Kenobi had cracked jokes about it being one of the first casualties, right next to their senses of humor.

Both of them were relying more on the Force now to communicate, silent as it was with Obi-Wan's focus being riveted to managing his wound and being conscious enough to drag his feet after Cody’s slow gait, so he had only the most marginal of ideas that he was walking with the living instead of someone with one foot already set to march. It made the crackle of static on his comms, a precursor to a rigged communication line being patched through, breath-taking.

“Commander?”

Exhaling roughly, he flicked his eyes to the gleaming icon in the corner of his HUD, activating the incoming line, “Name and rank.”

He supposed his clipped adherence to protocol could be forgiven, given the whoop of delight that served as both an answer and an identification. It made him grin, broad enough to confuse his HUD, “Good to hear you, trooper. Got a medic on hand?”

There was a murmured shit on the other side, “Sure do, Commander. How many do you need?”

Obi-Wan stirred in his arm, noticing that their usual was different but not entirely cognizant of why. He shushed his general, fingers aching with the need to curl around the man, to be safe in their quarters. He did one last visual sweep of the area, knowing they were within eyesight of the rendezvous point. It would have to be good enough.

Just in case, he lit the ’saber, the familiar, protective blue held in front of the both of them in deadly form. It wasn’t a true Soresu, but the spirit of it was encapsulated in the way Cody was unaltered in his protection of Kenobi, a bubble of determination that could not be broached.

“Just the one, Whoop,” Cody replied, holding Obi-Wan close, “We’ll see you there.”

-

Author's Notes

Written for the 2023 @codywanreversebang, based upon @artbowls' wonderful art piece , alongside fellow writer @thejediandthemandalorian (their fic here). Both were fantastic to work with!

Do I know what a tarpa root is? Nope. It's completely made-up, pretend it's a Space Potato.

I really enjoyed the new OCs, troopers Iron, Whoop, Booker, and Captain Sixes - hopefully I'll have some opportunity in future works to add them in.