#I usually don't write this poetically but it's nice sometimes <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[deejadabbles]

Safehaven (Thorn x Reader)

Summary: Who can blame you for falling for your bodyguard? Rating: G (but Minors DNI) A.N: A continuation of this drabble, I tried to keep this one thematic with the first, but it... got away from me and came out much longer than the first. Word Count: 1,405 Warnings: None, besides mentions/explorations of loneliness. Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3

You had never felt more alone in all your life, than in the first year of the war. Lost and alone.

Life was never particularly easy, growing up on a planet far from the comforts of the core worlds. That's why you had devoted your life to science, to the betterment of your people. You wanted to help, to pave new ways for your home.

But then, they turned their backs on you.

Your world was now a safe haven for tyranny and pain, your leaders bowing and scraping at the feet of those who would twist your inventions into weapons- into tools used for killing, not healing. It sickened you, sickened you to your core.

So, you had turned to the Republic. The lesser of evils, the safer danger, the only real option if you wanted you and your family to live. And now, now you were lost and alone. Your loved ones smuggled away to some secret hideaway, while you were put to work for the Republics oh so Grand Army.

You made the most of it. Always, you wanted your inventions to help, to better, so you did what you could. Especially since this side of war had real, living, breathing men fighting on it. You did all you could to ensure your contributions could help, could protect.

Then, just when the height of your lost isolation hit, you met him. Commander Thorn.

The bounty placed on your head had hardly phased you. They could come all they wanted, as long as you and your inventions weren't under a separatist thumb. But the Republic wasn't willing to risk losing an investment, so, they gave you a bodyguard done up in red plastoid.

Thorn. He was...so unlike anything you had expected.

You weren't stupid. You knew no one on this godforsaken city planet trusted you. You saw the way your "colleagues" looked at you. The strict rules on your comings and goings. How all your comms were monitored. Coruscant was not your safe haven, it was a glass cage where everyone expected you to turn on them, just as you had turned on your own home. It didn't matter to them why you had done it in the first place.

Except Thorn.

At first, he was professional enough, but even then, you heard the lightness in his voice. The modulator did little to hide the tease in his tone, and that T visor couldn't mask the way his gaze lingered when you offered him a smile.

Commander Thorn treated you as if...as if you were worth protecting. He never made you feel like a burden, or as if you were just another job to him. He talked, and listened and never once regarded you as if you hid a treacherous mind.

But even more, he took the duty of protecting you to heart and it was the first time he touched you that you realized just how much your loneliness had started to ease with him around.

The moment you cried out, skin burnt while working on a prototype, he had swooped in, taking your hand so delicately that it made your breath hitch in your throat. He was so tender and caring, over nothing but a small burn.

And funny. Maker, he was funny.

"You know, it's in my job description, I should totally punch that prototype for endangering you." It was said with a wink as he bandaged your hand, and you hadn't been able to stop the bubble of laughter that took you over.

Before that moment, you couldn't even remember the last time you laughed- and it felt good. It felt so good to laugh again, even if it was over a such a silly joke. It made that hole that had been growing in your heart a little easier to bear.

You loved how humorous he was and, to your surprised delight, that first laugh seemed to make him want more. He seemed to stockpile silly jokes like a dragon horded treasure. They were stupid, and he knew it, but they made you laugh so he said them anyway, day after day.

Slowly, it became easier to smile. Joy came easily now that he was there.

Once, in a more serious moment, he had thanked you for your craftsmanship, thanked you for wanting to keep his brothers safe with armor worthy of them.

"It's nice to know you have our backs. People like you...you help make all the fighting feel worth while." The rare, far away look in his eyes in that moment could have broken your heart, if it wasn't for the fact that Thorn seemed incapable of causing you any amount of pain.

His gratitude was sweet, but wholly unnecessary. The mere idea that giving soldiers a fighting chance was something that needed thanks made you scoff. But, given the way you'd seen his brothers treated by some, maybe Thorn was shocked over even that small amount of care.

It gave you a new determination, to show him all the care in this maker-forsaken galaxy. You had discovered that your handsome, funny, charming bodyguard needed little encouragement to bend the rules, and you used it to your full advantage. Making him meals in the small kitchen of your cage that started to feel more like a home. Asking him about his wants, his dreams, even if he had little to say at the start. Begging him to partake in your hobbies, in the hopes that he might find more of his own.

Thorn was a rule bender, but, when it came down to it, he was still damn good at his job.

The danger was almost over before you even had time to register it in your shocked state. The bounty hunter was down with only one shot fired. A shot that had barely grazed you thanks to your loyal protector. Then, when the ringing in your ears stopped, his voice was the first thing you heard.

And it sounded like home.

More like a home than your birth place, and certainly more than this heart of the republic.

It was all you could do to stay in the present and follow his guidance to keep you safe, to ensure your safety. You let him do his job and the danger passes swiftly, with nothing but a grazing burn to your arm for that that bounty's trouble. It was a rather small incident, all things considered, but Thorn was still the picture of concern, even when he guided you back to the safe haven.

Once again, Thorn made you feel like you were someone worth protecting. Not because it was his job, but simply because you were you.

It was possibly one of the purest forms of love you had ever witnessed.

Though, you were wrong about one thing, Thorn could cause you some small prickle of pain, even if it wasn't his fault. Because longing could hurt, and you hadn't realized how much it had been hurting you this whole time. Not until that night, not until you were worn thin from reporting the attack to Fox and sick to death of the medical staff looking you over; not until Thorn took your hand again and firmly told everyone that it was time for him to take you home for privacy and rest.

The longing for your tender protector had been growing for so long that it was almost easy to accept, but not tonight, not when he had shown you so many different kinds of care. Now, having him so close made you feel comfort and heartache in a bizarre tandem.

You almost made it to your front door, before everything was finally just too much.

When the fear, and pain, and bone tiredness of the night finally hit you, Thorn was there. He caught you when your knees gave way and swept you up into his arms with ease. Your bodyguard carried you as if you were a blushing bride, to the place he made feel like a home. Like a true safe haven.

Commander Thorn needed little encouragement to bend the rules, so, when he placed you safely on your bed, you kept holding on, pulling him close. You asked him to stay and he didn't even hesitate. Not because it was his job, but because you were you.

That was all the reason Thorn needed to love you.

Tag List: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade @littlemissbshine @funeralreunion @chubbyhedgehog-blog

[buildarocketboys]

53 + peterick lmao

Haha this one was so perfect for them! Fluffy early band ficlet, Pete takes Patrick out on a 4am ice cream date!

53. “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!”

It's 4am, and Patrick is wide awake.

Not that this is such an unusual occurrence for Patrick. His preferred sleeping schedule lingers somewhere between 3 or 4am and 12 or 1pm. But as a high school student, that's not really sustainable so he's usually at least trying to sleep by this time.

Right now he can't, though. He's thinking about the conversation (argument) he and Pete had earlier. Replaying it over and over in his mind.

Ugh, but Pete just makes him so angry sometimes. They were rehearsing a few of their songs in preparation to record them at Joe's next week. 

And then Pete had wanted to change a lyric.

And another.

And another.

They weren't sensible changes, either. Half the time, Pete seems to want to replace one word with forty. It's ridiculous.

And he's so smug about it too! As if he thinks-knows-that his lyrics are so much better than Patrick's.

The worst part is, Patrick can't help thinking he's right. Patrick knows he's no poet, or wordsmith. His lyrics are juvenile at best. He's all too aware of this, as Pete well knows.

Pete's words are beautiful, poetic, the metaphors winding and flowing through his writing like a river to the sea.

But at least Patrick's lyrics fit the rhythm of the damn song!

After one too many of these changes, Patrick had lost his temper.

He'd yelled, "If you know so much better than me, maybe you should write the fucking lyrics!"

Pete had gone quiet at that. He hadn't talked for the rest of the rehearsal, which they all mutually decided to cut short. Which doesn't bode well for the recording. They all need the practice.

Patrick knows he went too far, but also - he can't see how he's wrong. Pete needs to put up or shut up when it comes to the lyrics - he could at least work with Patrick when it comes to making the lyrics fit. But the man has no sense of rhythm, at least not on purpose. He doesn't seem to see an issue with adding another twenty words to a verse.

He just gives Patrick an infuriating little smile and tells Patrick that he knows Patrick will make it work.

Pete seems to think Patrick is some kind of musical genius. Which is flattering, he guesses. Except he's really not.

Patrick's perseveration is interrupted by a tapping at the window. He jumps, then twists around, pulling the curtain back to reveal Pete's face at the window.

He groans.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he hisses once he's opened the window.

Pete pouts at him. "Now that's not a very nice way to greet your best friend, is it?"

Patrick grits his teeth. "It's four in the morning!"

Pete shrugs. "So? You're awake, aren't you?" When Patrick continues to glare at him he says, "Also, be quiet - don't wanna wake your mom up."

Patrick rolls his eyes, arms crossed tightly over his chest (only partly to hide his Batman pajamas), then sighs. Relenting, he scrambles back so Pete can climb into his room proper.

"Shut the window," he says, "It's freezing." January in Chicago is no joke.

Pete does so, a grin playing round his lips. It fades when Patrick says, "What are you doing awake at 4am anyway?"

Pete presses his lips together. Instead of answering, he says, "I could ask the same of you."

Patrick stares back at him, stony-faced. He asked first.

Pete sighs, pushing his hair back. "Couldn't stop thinking about earlier," he admits.

Patrick lets out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, me too."

Pete looks up at him, eyes sparkling hopefully. "Thought I could make it up to you."

"Make it up...to me?" Patrick asks. He'd figured Pete was mad at him. Too late he registers Pete's raised eyebrows, and scrambles to correct himself. "How?" he asks, crossing his arms again.

Pete grins, so effortlessly charming that Patrick kind of hates him for it. Patrick could never be so laid back in a million years.

For some reason, Pete likes him anyway. God knows why.

Sometime after they became best friends, Patrick resolved to stop questioning it. Sometimes it's best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"I'm taking you out for ice cream," Pete announces.

For a moment, Patrick's not sure he's heard correctly. "Ice cream?" he splutters. "Pete. It's 4am in midwinter in Chicago. We are not going out for ice cream."

"Why not?" says Pete. "You once said that if you could choose one food to eat for the rest of your life, it'd be ice cream."

"Well, yeah, but..." Pete remembers that? How many of the stupid things Patrick says on a daily basis has Pete retained? It doesn't bear thinking about. "Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!"

Pete waggles his eyebrows. "C'mon, Patrick. You know you want to."

Patrick's stomach flip flops in excitement. Pete is always doing shit like this, getting Patrick to step out of his comfort zone, while always, always being there to hold his hand. He pretends to be annoyed, but really he loves it.

"What if my mom finds out?"

Pete shakes his head. "She won't. Just sneak out the window with me. We'll be back before she wakes up."

Patrick moves to the window and looks out dubiously. He's seen Pete do it before - shimmy down the drainpipe and onto the garage roof, before jumping down.

But Pete's athletic. If Patrick tried that, he'd probably break an ankle. Or worse. 

"I think I'll go out the front door," Patrick says. He's pretty sure he can make it without his mom waking up. He's an expert at ninja-ing down the stairs in the middle of the night.

Pete shrugs. "It's your funeral." He heads for the window, obviously planning to return the way he came. "Wait, you do want to come, right?"

"Yeah!" Patrick exclaims - a little too loud and enthusiastic. He cringes, and they both listen for any sound of his mom stirring in the next room. "Yeah," he says. "I just need to put, like, ten layers on."

Pete's got a shit-eating grin on his face now. "Alright. See you on the other side, sport." He punches Patrick's shoulder and has disappeared out the window before Patrick can object to the childish nickname.

Patrick sighs and then starts pulling on clothes at random, grateful for his floordrobe for once, as it means he doesn't have to open his squeaky closet door. He darts down the stairs, ninja-style, and stands at the front door for a full minute, pricking his ears for any sounds from his mom's room. When none come, he slips on his shoes and unlocks the door, closing it softly behind him before half-jogging to Pete's car.

Pete smirks as he slips in. "Impressive," he says.

"Oh shut up." He rubs his hands together as Pete starts the car, waiting for the heaters to warm up. "Where do they serve ice cream at 4am in Chicago in January anyway?" he asks. "It's, like, 20 degrees."

Pete grins as he pulls out of Patrick's driveway and guns the engine. "I know a place."

The place turns out to be a diner on the edge of the city.

When they enter, there's nobody else in the place. No customers, no waitresses, not even anyone behind the counter.

The lights are on but nobody's home, thinks Patrick, then giggles.

Pete glances at him. "What's so funny?"

Patrick shakes his head. "Is this place actually open?" he asks.

Pete nods. "Sure it is. The lights were on, the door was open, right? They're probably just out back, having a smoke. Hey!" Pete calls loudly. No answer. He sighs in frustration. "Just wanted to get my boy some ice cream," he mutters under his breath.

Patrick feels his stomach lurch. Something about Pete calling him his boy does things to him. It's kinda like Pete calling him his boyfriend.

Kinda, but not really, he tells himself firmly, as Pete dings the little old-fashioned bell next to the register.

They hear footsteps coming their way. "Finally!" Pete says, as if they've been there for hours. Patrick rolls his eyes fondly. "Why don't you go pick out which flavors you want?" He nods toward the glass box under which a smorgasbord of ice creams are displayed.

"Woah," Patrick says. He scans the flavors, trying to pick his favorite, wishing he hadn't forgotten his glasses. A waitress arrives behind the counter to serve Pete.

"Hey there, darling, sorry about that. You been waitin' long?" she says to Pete, batting her eyelashes, and suddenly the ice cream is the last thing on Patrick's mind. He watches her flirt with Pete, nails digging into his palms, thinking that is the fakest accent he's ever heard in his life.

Pete seems to fall for it though, much to Patrick's disgust. He grins up at her and says, "Not long, no," in this breathy little voice he uses whenever he flirts with girls. Patrick feels sick, for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

"What can I get ya?" she asks.

"I'll have a coffee," Pete says. "And for my friend here..." he trails off, obviously waiting for Patrick to give his order.

Patrick realizes he's been staring at them, open-mouthed.

He slams his mouth shut as the waitress says, flatly, "Oh. Hey there."

"Pete, I...I don't have any money," he admits. He'd been so focused on getting out of the house undetected, and so excited about sneaking around with Pete in the middle of the night, that it hadn't even occurred to him to bring his wallet.

Pete reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him close so he can wrap his arm round Patrick's waist. "That's OK, honey. My treat."

The waitress purses her lips. Patrick feels a zing of delight in the vicinity of his stomach, even as he can feel his cheeks burning.

"Uh, are you not having anything?" he asks Pete.

Pete shakes his head. "Just coffee. I'm not hungry."

"I'll just have some vanilla then," says Patrick.

"Aw, no, c'mon Patrick," Pete says, eyes crinkling in disappointment. "I'm taking you out on an ice cream date, you've gotta have at least two flavors."

The waitress looks at him dubiously - 17, chubby, wearing about 15 layers of clothes. Privately, Patrick agrees with her - why would Pete want to take him on a date, of all people? Even a friend date, which he's sure is what Pete means. But he raises his chin and looks her in the eye.

"Um, OK," he says after a moment, when the waitress has looked away. "I'll have, uh..." he glances at the flavors again, and chooses pretty much at random, "Bubblegum and rocky road."

"Good choice,' says the waitress, smiling a little.

"And put those in a cone!" Pete says as she goes to scoop the ice cream. He nudges Patrick. "It's not ice cream if it's not in a cone, right?"

"Do you remember everything I've ever said to you, or just the ice cream-related things?" Patrick teases.

Pete looks at him, deadly serious. "Patrick Stump, I remember every word you've ever said to me."

Patrick rolls his eyes, but he can't help but smile. He takes the ice cream cone the waitress offers him and they go sit in a booth in the corner.

Then he remembers their argument this afternoon. "Even the bad stuff?" he asks, swallowing nervously.

Pete's eyes soften. "Yeah, not that there's much. But I don't hold it against you." He sips his coffee. Patrick's pretty sure he's just being kind - they argue a lot, and Patrick's not always the most objective or logical when his temper gets the better of him. "Besides, you're usually right, anyway."

Patrick snorts. "Am not," he says, because that's definitely not true, and he doesn't need Pete to mollycoddle him.

Pete flashes him a grin. "Yeah y'are. Like this afternoon-"

Patrick sighs. "Can we not talk about that?" He realizes his ice cream has started to drip down the cone and onto his hand, and launches a rescue mission with his tongue. Pete is silent for long moments and Patrick thinks he's dropped it, but when he looks up again he catches Pete watching him.

Pete clears his throat. "You were right," he says. He sounds kinda weird. "I was being annoying, making all those lyric changes."

Patrick sits back in his seat, satisfied that they're finally in agreement. "Yeah, you were."

"But was I wrong? I mean, didn't my changes make the songs better?"

Patrick snorts. "If changing one word to forty makes a song better, sure." Now that he's cooled down, though, he actually thinks about it. "Your words are better than mine," he admits quietly. "They're more poetic, or whatever."

Actually, Pete's words are kind of really fucking beautiful, but he'd never tell Pete that. It's one of the things that annoys him the most when Pete asks to change the lyrics. Not only are they almost always better than Patrick's lyrics, they also make Patrick feel things. Things he's not sure he wants to feel.

"Exactly!" says Pete, then cringes when Patrick scowls at him. "That's not...that's not what I meant," he says quickly. "I love your songs, Patrick. You know that."

Patrick does. Sometimes he thinks Pete's the only one who likes them.

"But you're a musician. I...I get the feeling you don't really care about the words."

Pete picks his words carefully, but Patrick can't help feeling a little offended. Patrick does care. Sure, he cares about all the other stuff - the melody and the rhythm and the harmonies - way more, but it's not like he's not trying! He tries really hard with the lyrics, they just never come out any good!

"It's not that I don't care-" he starts, then sighs.

"But you see what I'm saying?" Pete asks, pressing his advantage.

"Yeah. I guess." Patrick pays attention to his ice cream for a while before he speaks again. "What's the point of this, Pete? I mean, what can we do different?"

Pete's face lights up with a grin. This is clearly the point he's been wanting to get to the whole time. "I write the lyrics. You write the music."

Patrick considers this for a while, his tongue worming its way into the bright blue ice cream. He doesn't miss the way Pete is staring at him, but for now he just lets it happen. Pete isn't like other people - he likes being under his gaze.

"How would that work through?" he says. "If I write the music, we'll still run into the same problem, trying to fit your lyrics to it." In fact, it'll probably be worse, Patrick thinks.

Pete shrugs. "It's just an idea," he says. "I don't know, maybe I could write the words and you could fit the music around them?"

Patrick screws his face up. Nobody does it like that. That's just not how songwriting works.

But.

Sometimes when he looks at Pete's lyrics, he hears the beginning of a melody. Usually he pushes it back, annoyed at the distraction when he's trying to fit them to the tune he's already got.

But what if he let that impulse run free? What would happen then?

"We could try it," Patrick says tentatively.

Pete's face is split with a grin. "Yeah?"

Patrick shrugs. "Yeah. I'm not saying it'll work, mind you. Nobody writes songs like that for a reason."

Pete lets out a breath. "I know. But we're not like everybody else." He claps his hands together, satisfied, breaking the tension between him and Patrick. "We'll do the recording like we were always gonna, with your lyrics. I'll try not to mess with them too much."

Patrick raises an eyebrow.

"But after that, we try this, yeah? It's an experiment. And if it doesn't work, we can go back to you writing the songs."

Patrick nods. "OK," he says, and attacks the rest of his ice cream with gusto, while Pete sips his coffee and watches him openly.

Pete drives him back at 5:30am. His mom gets up at 6. He should be fine.

Patrick's quiet on the drive back. Just thinking.

"You OK?" Pete asks as he pulls up on Patrick's driveway.

Patrick nods, offering him a small smile. "Just thinking," he tells Pete.

Pete nods encouragingly, and Patrick adds, "Do you actually have words to give me? You know, if that's what we're gonna do?"

Pete nods. "Oh yeah." He leans over Patrick and opens the glovebox, pulling out a hardcover notebook. Patrick's seen him writing in it before. "Here you go." He hands it to Patrick.

Patrick takes it reverently in his hands. "Pete... isn't this basically your diary?"

Pete nods, not looking at him. "Technically it's a journal. But yeah." He breathes shallowly. "But I trust you."

The gravity of that trust is not lost on Patrick.

Pete turns around finally to find Patrick staring at him.

"What?" he says, but his cheeks are ruddy. "You're my best friend."

Patrick blinks, his eyelashes fluttering. "Yeah..." he breathes.

Pete leans forward and brushes his thumb over the corner of Patrick's mouth. Patrick's heart stutters in his chest.

Pete's eyes flicker to Patrick's lips, and for a moment, Pete thinks he's going to close the distance between them.

Then he leans back, breathing hard. 

"Might want to wash your face when you get in. Your mouth is blue."

Patrick chokes out a laugh. "Yeah. Will do." He opens the passenger door.

"See you tomorrow?" says Pete hopefully, and Patrick smiles.

"Yeah," he says, squeezing Pete's hand. "Tomorrow."

[therantfairysblog]

Dear shinazugawa

✍️ note: one day, shinazugawa visiting his old friend, iguro's estate, reminiscing their days as hashira and Iguro has a surprise for him. ( i love their friendship so much 🥲)

It has been 3 months.

He was barely survived and even now he just slowly recovered. His body still feel numb but he wasn't a person who love to rest doing nothing in bed.

Why are we here? Kaburamaru in his neck, crawling around him quietly.

The former serpent hashira's estate was in front of him. There's several kakushi guarding the place. Cleaning it as well.

"Iguro, I'm coming. " he whispered. The soft breeze of spring caressing his cheeks. He walk slowly towards the estate. Greeting the kakushi.

"Did you coming every day to clean the house?"

"Yes, and ubayashiki sama tell us that the late iguro sama entrusted him to use the estate as orphanage. So we are in a process of cleaning it for that too" he watched the kakushi swiping the wooden floor. The place where he use to sit there talking to his bestfriend when he visit him.

"after all there's a lot I don't know about you, Iguro."

"can i walk in?" It was rude to enter the house without the guardian's permission although he was usually come barge in when Iguro was here.

"...yes of course"

The surrounding was still the same, he's aware. Iguro didn't have much furniture, sometimes he making fun of it.

He chuckled, they were indeed having a different taste, their deco ideas, even their love interest.

He stepped along the corridor and turn towards a bit smaller room in the end of the house. He never went there before, Iguro said it was his personal room, a boring one too, he said. "Nothing interesting for you there, Shinazugawa" he remembers Iguro said it but he couldn't stop his curiosity.

For some reason, the room feel very Iguro. It has nice smell of camomile tea and sakura. In front of him, a huge book containing a collection of haiku was sitting undisturbed in the table. "What a poetic guy, this is your hobby, aren't you"

In the left of the room, there's a medium sized box wrapped in silk. Apparently this room aren't being touched yet. It was a letters box. He's aware, iguro has always exchanging letters with the love hashira almost every day. He smiled. There's no way he want to know the content. He didn't care about other's people love life.

However, his curiosity still bring him to the box. There's a lot of letters, stamping in front of it, iguro's name in Kanroji's writing. Neatly wrote with a beautiful sakura pattern as her signature. He didn't want to open it however, it was too personal. It was until he found an envelope with no name in it. "Huh, mission or something?"

" Shinazugawa, I'm not really sure if i want to send this letter to you.

I have thought a lot about it for a while. Ever since we almost trapped in that demon's hideout, my guts never stopped me from feeling nervous.

Shinazugawa, i had my own mission, that i never told you. I may not coming out alive, or practicing together with you anymore.

You tell me that you had lost almost everyone in your life and you only had Genya, master and me. You said I am your bestfriend too. I'm so happy to hear that. You wish that we could survive too.

However I'm really sorry. I'll probably couldn't fulfill that. Shinazugawa, even if i no longer here, i hope we could still in contact. Tell me everything you see. Maybe when you get married or anything like we always do. Oh and also please live.

Thank you for everything."

He wasn't aware, when his tears flowing down. When he was told that Iguro has passed at first, he wasn't crying but look at him now. He took the letter and put it in his pocket. Caressing kaburamaru, he whispered "You master is such a loser, why would he even wrote me a letter like that. I'm not Kanroji"

He was there for a while. Reminiscing their moment together. Now, that everything has been put in reality, he's aware he actually didn't stop grieving for him.

"I had some funny story to tell you, Iguro. You better listen."

Shinazugawa walk away, and his feet step in the direction of the cemetery.

[spikybanana]

fic writer tag game

@to-proudly-go thank u for the tag pal <3<3 (I very definitely love your poetic angst & your art)

How many works do you have on ao3?

25 :) 15 for hp and 10 for star wars

What's your ao3 word count?

144,107!

What fandoms do you write for?

hp and star wars, though I've definitely brought the marauders fandom habits (delusional obsession w main character's dad and his best friends) straight to the prequels

What are your top five fics by kudos?

"trust" the inscription said (hp/wolfstar)

then he came home (hp/wolfstar)

don't let's die as heroes (hp/jegulily)

the prophecies spoke of you and I (sw/obikin) (which is also my most recent work, so it's crazy to me that it's up here)

slipped back in (hp/wolfstar)

Do you respond to comments?

I always do eventually!! even if it's the smallest comment I like to send a smiley face in reply. It's just that I might take forever coming up with what to say, especially for the super nice ones ;3;

What's the fic you write with the happiest ending?

hmm I'd say don't let's die as heroes for the marauders (literally turns 3 canonical funerals into a wedding) and Designation for obikin. & I usually write happy endings (minus canon fics) even if they're more "the future is uncertain but bright" rather than happily ever afters

Do you get hate on fics?

none so far! & they better not because if I do get hate I will cry

Do you write smut? What kind?

listen. listen. this is a whole Thing. as your neighbourhood ace, smut is like science fiction/horror to me. which is to say I have written both mlm and wlw sex scenes lol. it happens very rarely, but it has happened before & will happen again.

Do you write cross-overs?

I hope you know that I'm constantly thinking about how sirius/remus and anakin/obi-wan are homomorphic creatures and I really want them to meet. but also, so far, no. except if you count the wolfstar sw au sitting in the docs.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not afaik!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

not afaik either!

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I don't think so, but I would absolutely love to try

What's your all time favourite ship?

wolfstar and obikin are the same ship actually, so both. (unserious)

What's your WIP you like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I read back on What You Will earlier today and scared myself so possibly that. (it's a jegulily parody of Shakespeare's twelfth night, and has already been rewritten from scratch twice, so maybe mayyybe there's a sign)

What are your writing strengths?

errrrr. occasionally poetic-ish description? I like writing pretty vibes. and occasionally punchy-feely stuff. where you stand above & survey a life through tiny poignant snippets far apart. quite a few of my fics are like that

What are your writing weaknesses?

so many. definitely more than I'm aware of too. I feel I'm awful at pacing & easily get bogged down in tiny details, which is why long fics have not worked out for me lol. It's also hard for characters to feel real to me, like I'd just stop in the middle of a story and think "my darling I do not understand you at all"

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I definitely love when I see them, but I've not tried it myself. it feels impossible to merge Mandarin and English in a way that feels natural (or write it down in English characters), even though come to think of it I do it with my brother all the time. huh.

First fandom you wrote for?

drarry! and I still wanna go back sometimes

Favourite fic you've ever written?

awh but I always like them better before they're words on the screen/on ao3. ideas are just pure vibes and potential yk? rather than a dozen annoying imperfections you're not good enough to fix. lol sorry, if I have to pick, Once Upon a Green Haze. it's unfinished & only has 3 chapters for now, but I like them.

I've seen this going around the dash for a while now, so open tag :)

[mamawasatesttube]

10, 58, 62, 75, 89 <3

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

what the fuck is a title bitch im gonna kill you

kshjsd no but most of the time, pretty late in the process. the exception is with longfics, like sotm, where the title is emblematic of the themes in the entire thing. but for oneshots and things half the time i'm out here titling them for the first time as i stare at the ao3 new work upload form in consternation. it's easier than it used to be! i used to grab a lot of song lyrics or lines from poetry, but these days i tend to slap things together that SOUND poetic to me but are actually just original.

58. what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

i. i think it was anatomy of a flower bc i couldnt remember the structure of the pistil. do not ask why i needed to know this (and it ended up literally not at all relevant for the fic bc who the fuck thinks about this during situations. anyway)

62. what’s the weirdest reason you’ve ever shipped something?

you, probably,

no but it might be qp revali & mipha just bc she teases him and he's genuinely nice to her when he's a dick to everyone else in age of calamity?? usually it takes more than crumbs to get me going omg... what if... but actually i am so invested in them being qp besties. which probably isn't that weird in the greater scheme of things, but like i did Not care for his feathery ass much at all before that game, so to me it's weird.

75. do you know how your story ends before you start writing?

YES. always. i outline so extensively. i can't write if i don't know where i'm going because i overthink where i'm supposed to be going and then i don't actually write anything. that said, sometimes i change the outline mid-story bc something else developed organically or i had a new idea!

89. sarcastic narrators: entertaining or overdone?

for a second i misread this as mr. sarcastic and was instantly transported to a hell realm where every tim fic featured him as mr sarcastic only and that was the dominant trope. anyway,

i do kinda enjoy a sarcastic narrator but only in specific ways. generally i don't care for it with fourth wall breaks or narration addressing the reader UNLESS it's specifically like a meta kind of thing overall and not Just for quips. they also have to be genuine and have real emotions about things. sarcasm is funny to me but when it's written as an excuse for total bland emotional detachment that is boring as FUCK.

ask game for fanfic writers

[xluvablz]

ahhh this is so cute!! thanks for the tag baby @ultravioletrayz ⋆˚✿˖°

⭑.ᐟ When did you start writing?

I mean, I guess I've been writing for ever! But I really started getting into it when I got a bit older, maybe ten or eleven?

⭑.ᐟ Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I read fan fiction ofc, but i'm a fantasy romance and psychological novel girl at heart - big jump, noted. I also love the classic literatures and poetries, my favs being Jane Austen and Emily Brontë.

⭑.ᐟ Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I mean I am certainly not compared to other writers, which I suppose in itself is a compliment. However, like so many others I draw inspiration from books or authors I admire, but you won't see much of that in my fan fics; It's more of a personal habit.

⭑.ᐟ Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

It's a whenever I like it feel type of vibe. When I have an idea, or even just a potential quote or storyline, I jot it down in google docs or notes. I so wish I could be one of those aesthetically pleasing girls who writes her thoughts in a journal, but thats just not me hehe. Also, in my bed with my kitiiieeess.

⭑.ᐟ What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I think I draw my muses from my emotions and the people around me. How I feel will prompt who I write and what. For more personal works I use whatever I can from my environment, and see where it leads me! Honestly, I think i'm too in-the-moment-prompted to realllyyy have a muse.

⭑.ᐟ Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I express my positive emotions, because writing consumes me, and I enjoy the blossoming feeling of love or joy. I lean towards themes of romance and comfort, and paint pictures of the rawness of human touch and desire. I'm into reading smut, but not so much writing it. I feel very contempt telling stories about innocent love between the reader and a fav character.

⭑.ᐟ What is your reason for writing?

It's a hobby of mine, and I really enjoy it! It's honestly as simple as that :)

⭑.ᐟ Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Well i'm a relatively new writer, so I don't have much of a fanbase, ergo I don't receive many comments. Buttttt, when I do I appreciate any form of positive re-enforcement. It's really lovely getting a "this is so amazing, I can't wait to read some more!" or "you're writing is really nice, keep it up!". You guys are the best <3

⭑.ᐟ How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Hmm, remember me as a girl who loves poetry, warm tea and summer breezes. Remember me in pretty pearls and dainty jewellery. When the trees dance and the flowers sway, remember me in the rustling leaves. Remember me as a friend, lover and writer.

⭑.ᐟ What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I think my greatest strength is my poetic outlook on life. Call it rose-tinted lenses, but I am able to express my thoughts and feelings through my words. I use imagery and metaphors to convey my meanings.

⭑.ᐟ How do you feel about your own writing?

I'm neutral about my works. I don't dislike them, that's for sure, but we all have room to improve! Sometimes I get writers block, but other times i'm flooded with creativity!!

as usual i don't know who to tag hehe, so i'll tag some of my fav writers! no pressures: @luveline @mariasont @arachine @deathlycupidd @matchamorphosis :)))

writer interview game

✎ 𖧷 · ° . ♡

Thank you for the tag Blondie! 🥰 @reverieblondie

When did you start writing?

-i wrote a bit in middle school but i consistently started writing fanfics in November '23!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

-i like both reading and writing romance 🥰

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

-man I don't know 😭 but if i can come close to emulating the talent that my moots possess then that's a huge compliment!

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

-pretty much wherever and whenever I can 😭 I write in the notes app on my phone lolol. and i mostly write in my bedroom.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

-ovulation week lol and caffeine 🥰 definitely gets the creative juices flowing for me.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

-i write about rain a lot in my fics. I also make nature references. I try to use a lot of poetry devices bc I just like that style of writing. Also I'm guilty of being very self indulgent at times.

What is your reason for writing?

-i use it as a coping mechanism and to escape the stresses of life lol. People seem to like it and I've met lots of lovely people in the process. Purely for fun and self enjoyment with hopes to publish maybe one day if I'm lucky enough and dedicated enough to write that much

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

-lol I love feral reactions and silly comments in the tags. Also when people tell me specifically what they loved about my fics or lines that they enjoyed are really nice to receive! 🥰🫶🏽

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

-hmmm not sure! I guess I just hope that people enjoy my writing and also think I'm a pleasant person aside from my writing endeavors! And also don't mind that I'm kind of all over the place and am kind of slow and sporadic with my updates. 🫶🏽 My hyperfixations have been ebbing and flowing and so my work depends a lot on where my mind is at.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

-hmmm not sure! I think I do a pretty good job with descriptions and details! I think I capture emotion pretty well.

How do you feel about your own writing?

-Some days I feel great! Other days not so much. I think my works have been flopping a lot lately and so I'm in my "writing for myself" era and just write whatever makes me happy at the moment and try to ignore the numbers. But it's hard sometimes 😭

no pressure tags: @mrsoharaa @sassypossumm @slushycoookie @muchosbesitos @miguel-ohara-wifey @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @actuallysaiyan @anonimusunnoaniswriting @swiftyangx12 @catladyoftheyr

@lxverrings @improbable-outset

[teddybasmanov]

Hi hi hi! Thank you so much for the song recommendations and I really really really like this one

https://open.spotify.com/track/54NjeZb0simhLFopv6KiFl?si=WT4TM_O3SsWF7qLEI2uTSQ&utm_source=copy-link

(I'm sorry I can't find it in the insert audio option)

And I would absolutely love the guide to Russian rock!!! Thank you!!!!!

You're very welcome and I'm glad you liked it! (There's a fun music video for it which further shows that it's actually deeply political.)

Shake me a bit and musical recs start falling out.

Here's the "guide" (don't take it too seriously):

1. Louna - hard rock, alternative, metal, a lot of social and/or political themes.

2. Lumen - alternative metal, grunge, punk - usually sad and depressing.

3. Agatha Christy - gothic, punk, art, glam - psychedelic, dark, sometimes fantasy themed.

4. Aquarium - my absolute beloved - very old and usually like psychedelic chill, uses a lot of different instruments and genres from experimental rock to reggae and blues - in general just absolute classics.

5. Aria - hard rock, classical rock - also old, would probably describe as dad-rock, a lot of fantasy and historically themed songs.

6. Bravo - rock'n'roll and pop - absolutely ancient and very sweet. Inexistent.

7. DDT - rock, hard a bit of folk and indie - also some political topics, pretty old, also experiment with styles.

8. Zoopark - rock'n'roll, blues, hard - old and already inexistent but quite interesting.

9. Kalinov Bridge - folk, art-rock (Christian rock apparently) - folk and historical songs.

10. Kino - rock - classics - usually politically-themed or at least have such undertones. Doesn't exist anymore.

11-12. King and the Jester - fathers of the Russian punk - incredibly cool, fantasy-themed songs with plots (two songs included because for vampire-related reasons). Doesn't exist anymore (two bands heirs are Knyazz and the Northern Fleet).

13. Kukriniksy - punk, gothic - pretty artistic, have an album of singing Esenin's poems.

14. Time Machine - rock, rock'n'roll, author song - absolute dinosaurs, one the first if not THE. Technically do exist but not really.

15. Windmill - folk rock all the way - fantasy-themed very nice.

16. Nautilus Pompilius - rock, alternative, simfo-rock - very artsy for the lack of a better word, super poetic lyrics. Exist in odd ways and combinations.

17. Leg Fell Asleep (yes, it's their name) - punk, alternative, indie - awfully psychedelic, almost never make any sense (cue - have a song which is literally gibberish) but pretty fun.

18. Night Snipers - alternative, pop-rock, indie-rock - a lot of poetic romantic songs with some unexpectedly queer vibes.

19. Picnic - indie, rock, new wave, avant-garde - fairly old, also psychedelic but more fantasy and myth vibe than just a drug trip.

20. Pilot - punk, hard, alternative - usually fairy depressive, but cool.

21. Secret - rock'n'roll, blues, pop - nice, kind of old band, with a lot of love songs and just fun ones.

22. Splean - alternative, pop, indie - usually more dramatic romantic songs with deep poetic lyrics.

23. Cockroaches! - punk, alternative - a bit of trash /pos songs, some political.

24. Chaif - country, blues, rock'n'roll - another old one, a lot of slow sad or just calm songs, but not all of them.

25. Black Obelisk - heavy, trash-metal, hard - they are not actually that good I just have a bit of a soft spot for them. Sometimes good lyrics, but then the leader who was writing them died.

26. Chizh&Co - blues, folk, romance, rock'n'roll - very different genres, some songs with a plot, some romances, some war songs.

[adreamingsongbird]

You're descriptive. Usually not in a poetic way, though you don't lack emotion. I feel like I always know what's going on, I never find myself having to reread a scene to get what just happened. That makes it easier to get immersed in it. It flows nicely. I feel like you can work with anything. You complain about fight scenes (they're *hell*) but when you wrote one - it made sense and was clear and I could see it happening. (1/2)

You think logically about what needs to happen and that makes the story very believable. Nothing in the plot feels forced. You pay attention to details. Your writing is very well thought out. I do think you have a style. I probably can't describe it well. I don't know if this counts for an answer but... well. That's what I have. (2/2)

aaaaaa wow thank you riki!!!!! i do really try to work on keeping things moving and flowing and avoiding stagnant scenes in my writing, so i’m actually rly glad that shows!! sometimes i feel like i should add more of a poetic element because i LOVE writing with a light dusting of poesy, but i also never wanna veer too far into purple prose so i err far too hard on the side of caution :T

and oh wow yeah the PLOT. i work on that a lot. figuring that out is... tbh the hardest part of writing for me, so i’m glad that makes an impression for you!!!!

[phoutube]

it does feel easier than messaging bc you don't teachnically know when i've seen ur answer so i could just sit on it for an hour until i'm mentally Prepared and you wouldn't know (plus i'm anonymous lmao). it's weird because i started writing fic (specifically my last few) i couldn't hold a conversation for life but now that i've been writing dnp having conversations, that i've 1/?

personally created and replied to, almost daily for a like a month straight i’m like!!!!! YEAH!!!!!!! i could talk forever now abt anything. and idk it is a lot of words but!!! it’s also a lot to expect a beta reader to read in 24 hours at the absolute maximum so i’m v scared they’ll run me out of town. i actually don’t have 18+ beta readers if i can help it, because i always feel like adults are more mean and cynical. constructive criticism scares me. 2/3

i usually just get my best friend to beta read but this is for the prb so i kind of needed a proper one. i mean that is a valid way to spend your day i would give 10/10. monotone colours are v nice but my favourite is forest green for the ~aesthetic~ - ii hoodie anon

Yeah, I totally agree! messaging makes me anxious for some stupid reason. I really like this, because I don’t feel as guilty when I see that I just got three asks in my inbox but I decide to go to sleep anyway because it’s 3 am. (sorry!)

and yeah, that happens to me too! I don’t know if my brain is still stuck in Fic Mode or something, because suddenly I can ramble poetically on and on about things I like. also YEAH THAT IS A LOT OF WORDS

and yikes, that is a lot to expect out of a beta reader. I think I can get 23k down in about two hours, but it’s still a lot of reading. I’m proud! I don’t really have a specific age I like my beta readers to be (one was 16 and the other was 22?) but as long as they give good advice, then I’m fine with them!

yeah, I’d usually have the same people beta for me over and over again but sometimes, you need fresh voices, right?? even though it’s a little scary. I’m always willing to beta for other people, mainly because I love reading people’s wip stories!! 

also yeah i usually wear monotone colors, but brighter colors are so pretty too! and ugh I LOVE forest green, I totally get what you mean about the ~aesthetic~. do you have a favorite song, or artist?

[inktae]

Hi, how are you doing? I hope everything's going well with your finals :). There is a second season of blue exorcist asdhjkl how didn't I know this?? And noragami too? I don't really watch a lot of anime so I'm lowkey excited rn that you like the same ones haha. And yes I like chopin a lot in general but the variations are really nice in their own way ^^. Also have you heard of ólafur arnalds? I discovered him like an hour ago and his music is so beautiful and enthralling! [1]

 Finals are killing me rn and I’m looking forward so much to the semester break, I can’t wait for january to pass already ;_;. I just booked plane tickets to the uk because I’ll finally be able to visit a close friend who moved there a few months ago and I’m soo excited ^^. Also I just talked to my dad and apparently we might visit family in Amsterdam too! Ah I’m so happy rn :)). Also I read all the light we cannot see (I'm starting to feel like a nerd OTL) and unfortunately I didn't enjoy [2]

it at all . Going in I was so sure I was going to love it since it’s being hyped so much and it sounded like something I'd really enjoy, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been so disappointed by a book tbh. (probably very long procrastination fueled rant to follow). Firstly the plot is incredibly thin and the entire story is really predictable and inflated, and tbh sometimes the entire story just felt like a bit of an excuse to showcase as much of the authors [3]

very purple-prosey (is this a word? lol) writing as possible without worrying about any deeper meaning whatsoever. And I heard so much about his style and the way it was described, I was so sure I was going to like it, but unfortunately that wasn't the case either. There are some really beautiful sentences yes, but most of the time it felt like the author was like 'hey let's make this #poetic and just throw in 500 adjectives and half-baked metaphors before literally everything' so quite often[4]

it just felt kinda forced? My main problem was probably the pacing though (and the ending which was… anticlimactic to say the least (and not in a purposefully thought-provoking way but it felt more like he had just written himself in a bit of a corner)). The pacing was soo slow (and I usually really enjoy this!) and it wasn’t in a calm and serene way either but in a let's rush important scenes but sure let's talk about everything else in excruciating detail kind of way [5]

and I never really cared for any of the characters, no matter in how many delicate ways their *uniqueness* (one guy has white hair and it’s mentioned like 400 times) was described. Holy shit this got long! I didn’t know I had so many feelings about this lmao. well anyways I wasn’t really a fan of the book, but tastes differ and I mean almost everyone else seems to love it, so idk maybe you’d like it too. Ok I think I’m done now OTL. I hope you have a nice day! Lots of love ^^ [6] –coffee anon

LOL DON’T WORRY thank you for the long message!! :)

ahah yes - blue exorcist (I almost wrote blue orchids omg) and noragami are also some of my faves, mostly in terms of animation tbh, I can be so exigent with the art of the animation and these two are so well made. (and the characters are amazing as well - after finishing blue exorcist I spent quite a few weeks obsessing over yukio, he was such a fave of mine! and I absolutely adore yato)

YES I LOVE OLAFUR! you’ve probably listened to this one already (I think it’s his most popular) but near light is just so amazing. this one has helped me write a looot. :)

ALSO YOU’RE GOING TO AMSTERDAM *dies* it’s a city that’s definitely on my bucket list, right under tokyo. and even though I already went to london, I missed so many things I found out were there after coming back, so I really want to visit again T_T (besides.. all the merch I could buy LOL when it comes to that kind of stuff spain is really lacking)

also, thank you so much for your review of the light we cannot see, this is very eye opening! hmm, the thing is, I am having a hard time finding books that can help me improve my style. I want to stray away from YA books because I read too much of those when I was younger and they don’t have a style I look up to anymore, especially when it comes to their plots (usually driven by love triangles and werewolves or vampires, and I really want to read something different you know). I was considering the light we cannot see because everyone praises its writing, but now that you mention it, the reviews rarely mention the plot and/or the characters, which probably reflects how overshadowed those are by the author’s focus on the prose, and I really need enthralling plots to get hooked. hmm, I was going to buy it blindly, but now I think I’ll check it online first :)) then again, it could be good practice for me to read it even if the plot is lacking, since I also want to improve my narrative. (not to the point of throwing in 500 adjectives just to make it look pretty ahaha, but maybe I can learn some new vocabulary!)

talking about books, do you have any recommendations? like I said, I really want to read from authors that make me fall in love with both their writing and their story telling. I haven’t found much of that besides murakami. ;;; I am also trying to find books that are space related / futuristic and I found the Unwind series, which is also young adult but it seems to have plenty of good reviews, so I might give it a chance, but I’m still not sure. idk why, but I’m finding it soo hard to find books that I want to read. maybe I am just not looking in the right places ;_; anyway, I’ll probably let you know what I think of ‘all the light we cannot see’ when I give it a chance after my exams :))

[clonemedickix]

So freaking sweet!!!

Safehaven (Thorn x Reader)

Summary: Who can blame you for falling for your bodyguard? Rating: G (but Minors DNI) A.N: A continuation of this drabble, I tried to keep this one thematic with the first, but it... got away from me and came out much longer than the first. Word Count: 1,405 Warnings: None, besides mentions/explorations of loneliness. Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up  /// AO3

You had never felt more alone in all your life, than in the first year of the war. Lost and alone.

Life was never particularly easy, growing up on a planet far from the comforts of the core worlds. That's why you had devoted your life to science, to the betterment of your people. You wanted to help, to pave new ways for your home.

But then, they turned their backs on you.

Your world was now a safe haven for tyranny and pain, your leaders bowing and scraping at the feet of those who would twist your inventions into weapons- into tools used for killing, not healing. It sickened you, sickened you to your core.

So, you had turned to the Republic. The lesser of evils, the safer danger, the only real option if you wanted you and your family to live. And now, now you were lost and alone. Your loved ones smuggled away to some secret hideaway, while you were put to work for the Republics oh so Grand Army.

You made the most of it. Always, you wanted your inventions to help, to better, so you did what you could. Especially since this side of war had real, living, breathing men fighting on it. You did all you could to ensure your contributions could help, could protect.

Then, just when the height of your lost isolation hit, you met him. Commander Thorn.

The bounty placed on your head had hardly phased you. They could come all they wanted, as long as you and your inventions weren't under a separatist thumb. But the Republic wasn't willing to risk losing an investment, so, they gave you a bodyguard done up in red plastoid.

Thorn. He was...so unlike anything you had expected.

You weren't stupid. You knew no one on this godforsaken city planet trusted you. You saw the way your "colleagues" looked at you. The strict rules on your comings and goings. How all your comms were monitored. Coruscant was not your safe haven, it was a glass cage where everyone expected you to turn on them, just as you had turned on your own home. It didn't matter to them why you had done it in the first place.

Except Thorn.

At first, he was professional enough, but even then, you heard the lightness in his voice. The modulator did little to hide the tease in his tone, and that T visor couldn't mask the way his gaze lingered when you offered him a smile.

Commander Thorn treated you as if...as if you were worth protecting. He never made you feel like a burden, or as if you were just another job to him. He talked, and listened and never once regarded you as if you hid a treacherous mind.

But even more, he took the duty of protecting you to heart and it was the first time he touched you that you realized just how much your loneliness had started to ease with him around.

The moment you cried out, skin burnt while working on a prototype, he had swooped in, taking your hand so delicately that it made your breath hitch in your throat. He was so tender and caring, over nothing but a small burn.

And funny. Maker, he was funny.

"You know, it's in my job description, I should totally punch that prototype for endangering you." It was said with a wink as he bandaged your hand, and you hadn't been able to stop the bubble of laughter that took you over.

Before that moment, you couldn't even remember the last time you laughed- and it felt good. It felt so good to laugh again, even if it was over a such a silly joke. It made that hole that had been growing in your heart a little easier to bear.

You loved how humorous he was and, to your surprised delight, that first laugh seemed to make him want more. He seemed to stockpile silly jokes like a dragon horded treasure. They were stupid, and he knew it, but they made you laugh so he said them anyway, day after day.

Slowly, it became easier to smile. Joy came easily now that he was there.

Once, in a more serious moment, he had thanked you for your craftsmanship, thanked you for wanting to keep his brothers safe with armor worthy of them.

"It's nice to know you have our backs. People like you...you help make all the fighting feel worth while." The rare, far away look in his eyes in that moment could have broken your heart, if it wasn't for the fact that Thorn seemed incapable of causing you any amount of pain.

His gratitude was sweet, but wholly unnecessary. The mere idea that giving soldiers a fighting chance was something that needed thanks made you scoff. But, given the way you'd seen his brothers treated by some, maybe Thorn was shocked over even that small amount of care.

It gave you a new determination, to show him all the care in this maker-forsaken galaxy. You had discovered that your handsome, funny, charming bodyguard needed little encouragement to bend the rules, and you used it to your full advantage. Making him meals in the small kitchen of your cage that started to feel more like a home. Asking him about his wants, his dreams, even if he had little to say at the start. Begging him to partake in your hobbies, in the hopes that he might find more of his own.

Thorn was a rule bender, but, when it came down to it, he was still damn good at his job.

The danger was almost over before you even had time to register it in your shocked state. The bounty hunter was down with only one shot fired. A shot that had barely grazed you thanks to your loyal protector. Then, when the ringing in your ears stopped, his voice was the first thing you heard.

And it sounded like home.

More like a home than your birth place, and certainly more than this heart of the republic.

It was all you could do to stay in the present and follow his guidance to keep you safe, to ensure your safety. You let him do his job and the danger passes swiftly, with nothing but a grazing burn to your arm for that that bounty's trouble. It was a rather small incident, all things considered, but Thorn was still the picture of concern, even when he guided you back to the safe haven.

Once again, Thorn made you feel like you were someone worth protecting. Not because it was his job, but simply because you were you.

It was possibly one of the purest forms of love you had ever witnessed.

Though, you were wrong about one thing, Thorn could cause you some small prickle of pain, even if it wasn't his fault. Because longing could hurt, and you hadn't realized how much it had been hurting you this whole time. Not until that night, not until you were worn thin from reporting the attack to Fox and sick to death of the medical staff looking you over; not until Thorn took your hand again and firmly told everyone that it was time for him to take you home for privacy and rest.

The longing for your tender protector had been growing for so long that it was almost easy to accept, but not tonight, not when he had shown you so many different kinds of care. Now, having him so close made you feel comfort and heartache in a bizarre tandem.

You almost made it to your front door, before everything was finally just too much.

When the fear, and pain, and bone tiredness of the night finally hit you, Thorn was there. He caught you when your knees gave way and swept you up into his arms with ease. Your bodyguard carried you as if you were a blushing bride, to the place he made feel like a home. Like a true safe haven.

Commander Thorn needed little encouragement to bend the rules, so, when he placed you safely on your bed, you kept holding on, pulling him close. You asked him to stay and he didn't even hesitate. Not because it was his job, but because you were you.

That was all the reason Thorn needed to love you.

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