#also the client guy is not some oc or whatever

[kairokust]

That awkward moment when your waiter is a frog

Just a quick comic I did last night 👀

[cn-alastair-lite]

here are some honest tips and remarks regarding commision work for anyone who is considering as someone who has been taking them for like, 1.5yrs?

1. people will dip on you. a lot. "i will commision you after the pay-day", "save me a slot" etc etc, don't get too excited abt these sorts of messages cuz usually people forget

2. most people are understanding and won't ask you for updates for even like, a month. don't stress over sending progress pics every few days, man

3. (whispers) tumblr people tip more than the ones on twitter. sweet website ily

4. if you're open about being proship/anti-harassment/whatever the fuck, for the love of god do NOT accept commisions from people who flaunt about being self-proclaimed antis on their accounts and this is 1000% for your safety!!! paypal n kofi show your info do not forget!!!

5. never take on more than 2 or 3 comms <- a guy who has 4 atm and is suffering. also, doesn't learn from his own mistakes

6. you will draw OCs. a lot of OCs. most likely, 85% of your commision work will be OCs. don't get too happy about getting to draw fanart and/or ship art, if that's more to your liking.

7. this is moreso for commisioners... artists might be nice to you but, personally, if you're super difficult to work with and mean, they'll add you to their unofficial blacklist and try to get out of working for you again in the future lmao

8. take 100% of payment up ahead ik this is controversial but genuinely. people who like your work will not mind, especially if you send progress pics after every step WHICH BY THE WAY! YOU SHOULD DO!! do not just. draw the entire thing and send to them for approval. engage the person in the process! make them feel part of it!

9. the client is always right, if you don't like the composition or color palette or anything else just suck it up. this is a drawing for someone else, not you. push personal tastes aside, pooks

[theskeletonprior]

Writing Commissions Open!

Well gang, my beloved cat Wynne Genki Danger ran me up a $800 CAD vet bill so you know what that means. Commission time!

First, look at her. I would die for her. I would kill for her. I would write Astarion x OC a thousand times for her. (I'm so serious.) And so, BEHOLD.

Looking for a brainrot cure? Got a story that won't write itself? There's a way. And it doesn't involve AI slop. Just hire (me) a dead guy! I'm especially good at nailing character voices, hurt/comfort, polyamory, and subtle moments of intimacy. Monstrous partners? That's one of my favorite things to do. BRING ME YOUR WEIRD. While I don’t mind writing intimate scenes, I don’t accept graphic NSFW requests from first-time clients, and I never accept non-con, or underage. Also worth noting that if I find out you've been feeding my work to an LLM that I will never write a word for you again so long as you live. (And if you contact me from the afterlife, the answer is still no.) When in doubt, just check in with me first! You can message me here on Tumblr, or email me at theskeletonprior@gmail.com. The hellsite, as I'm sure you know, does eat asks and such sometimes, so if you don't hear back, don't be afraid to reach out again!

Price List (CAD)

1000 words for $20 1500 words for $40 2000 words for $50 3500 words for $60 Anything longer than 3500 words goes for the flat rate of $60 and then $0.04 per word (or half the going pro rate for writers) for every word after 3500 to a cap of 5000 words.

Now, the good news--our dollar is a little bit trash here in the land of maple syrup and poutine or whatever, so if you happen to trade in eagle bux, even better for you! My commissions help me pay for things like my beloved cat's surprise vet bills, apparently. But also my sertraline, funding for my ongoing effort to be reunited with my beloved husband, the occasional good meal, and resources for my work as a professional Dungeon Master (I can't believe that one either). So hire a dead guy, and help support a queer creative. You can also just hit me up on my ko-fi, if you'd like to help out Miss Genki.

Work Samples

You can read all my Tav Tales to date here on AO3, but here are some of the highlights.

To Live in Infamy (2k Durgetash)

The morning, Enver is lucky enough to have pants on. The Slayer snaps his chains as it comes screaming into the daylight, barrelling out of the bed. The force of Infamy’s awakening sends Enver rolling onto the floor, narrowly missing being crushed by the bedframe. He’s tangled in their sheets, and already lamenting that they’ll need to be replaced. This silk had come all the way from Waterdeep. That’s his first thought, even with his heart pounding in his ears. He struggles to free himself, but the Slayer isn’t coming for him. There’s the acrid smell of half-cast sorcery, and then the screaming starts. When something warm and wet splashes onto him, soaking through the sheets, Enver hopes it’s blood. The crunching of bones and the smell of bright copper gives him a little hope that it’s not something worse. It wouldn’t be the first time a would be assassin emptied their stomach or their bowels in terror before the Slayer. Enver unrolls himself at last, leaning back on his elbows to enjoy the show, even as the blood—and thank goodness it is blood—soaks through his nice sheets. The mess quite nearly defies description.

Callus (2k Tav/Astarion/Halsin)

“Oh, my dear, what a miserable turn of events.” Astarion kisses Lukan’s hair gently. “I could probably catch up with him, you know. Plenty of good alleyways in this end of town to drag him into, get him acquainted with my nice new boots. Sturdy enough to kick a man entirely to death.” “You got new boots?” Lukan can’t help a watery smile, desperate to redirect the conversation. He doesn’t want Thindulion killed. It had been bad enough to bury his mother, and as much as he wants to hate his father for abandoning them, he hates the thought of being orphaned even more. And now he knows he has a sister, and he couldn’t put her through that. “That’s beside the point,” Astarion says. “I’m asking if a little spot of patricide might cheer you up.” Lukan shakes his head. “It’s not like that,” he says. He wants to try to make light, to play along with Astarion’s flippant turn of phrase, but it’s just too heavy. It doesn’t go unnoticed. “I might have another idea, in that case,” Astarion tells him. “Why don’t you have a sit on the bed, get those boots off, and I’ll be back, having done precisely no murders, I promise.”

In the Spider’s Parlor (3.5k Tav/Kar'niss)

She peers over her shoulder at him and then rolls her head, exposing more of her neck. Suddenly his need, that wretched appetite, is not as hideous as it has been, he feels no disgust for what he wants, for the curse that makes him want it. There’s only this moment. He nips lightly, slipping his arms around her, embracing the warmth. He reaches out with his forelegs, feeling her, holding her securely as he had done that first time. He’s heard the sound she makes when letting blood, and now he knows it for what it is. Pleasure. His purr rumbles low in his chest, but he never bites, lapping softly at the thin rivulet of blood that wells from where he’s nipped her, one delectable drop at a time. Solinore reaches up, one hand tangling in his hair, relaxing in his grip. “What you ask of me, is yours,” Kar’niss says, applying pressure to the nick he’d made to stop what little bleeding he’d caused. “You sure?” she asks, playfully. “I could ask for another ride on your back. Or…” He knows what that smirk implies. “What you ask of me,” he says again, “is yours.”

[yanaleese]

BAUEHEISUWUJEJEHE HEEYYYYYYY I'M THE DEATH WITCH ANON AND I JUST HAVE TO SAY I'M FREAKING OBSESSED WITH THE OUTFIT YOU GOT FOR HER AND THE KARMA SKETCH AND THE LITTLE STUFF LIKE THEIR INTERACTIONS BECAUSE THAT'S EXACTLY THEIR DYNAMIC AND I HAD TO REVEAL MYSELF TO SHARE SOME ART BECAUSE SHE....SHE!!!!!!! AND HE!!!!!!

I just let out a small scream when I saw the drawings....I love them so much. Thank you so much it made my week. I had work so I couldn't answer quickly to your post but holy moly.... I love the death cult uniform you got for her and I'm obsessed.

Anyway here's my oc!! Her name is Lenka.

You almost got her right! Scarily almost, I probably should get better at designs....

But in a way her outfit has a lot of floral theming and based upon Czech Kroje dresses. It's mostly because it's in line with her lore and what the coven is. But I love the dress design you made and the outfit you gave her. Got me out here weeping over it, she would totally wear it. My shayla....my shayla....

But that death witch Karma....ahem. AHEM. *looks over there 👀👀👀

Serious note he looks really cool😭 I love the design so much.

(I just ramble about Karma and Lenka's first meeting, or what I think their first meeting would go so it might be OOC)

I also find the idea of Karma meeting her mid ritual more in line with her character. Mostly because it's funny as shit to think about.

Lenka is trying to capturea large amount of souls at some apartment, something about ghosts lurking around and it being a 'good opportunity to stop doing contract work' and then she turns around mid ritual to see, in her own words, "this doofus of a man" watching her because Karma thought someone was outside, stalking him, when it's just her doing witch stuff.

They both just stared at each other like a deer in headlights.

Karma probably thinks she's doing this to kill him, but after she told him to gtfo of this place or else he's going to get possessed/cursed/killed, despite the ritual asking her to stay in one place so it won't have any consequences on ber body, they kind of snowballed from there, going from decent friends to a romantic relationship.

Lenka is 50% sure Karma is probably someone important in the vampire world. Considering what kind of deals her coven makes, I think in the context of your oc world, she'd hear his name floating around, but never really dove into who or what kind of person he is because she's just doesn't care about who the coven's clients are connected to (not like they have regulars since well, the prices are really heavy).

But he's the first person that didn't manipulate her into doing...whatever her family's been doing to her for years, so she's looking away from most red flags, which will most likely cause some problems in the long run! Denile is a river in Egypt and she is a frequent visitor.

ANYWAY. That's the end of my brain rot. Love the blog, love the art, keep it up. I'm going to bed now. Have a meme for the road.

(Please ignore the low effort. It's 12 pm.😭)

BWAHAHA I FOUND YOU~~~~~~~~~~

But you know every single time I go in the inbox, I am always happy to reread the asks, including this one. I must say I laugh every time I see the Denile joke + the meme upon my re-reads. You along with my followers, makes my heart flutter with joy when you tie your OC with Karma's backstory. I am beyond honored that you guys are still with me 😭

Also when I first saw the design, I was like :00000000000000000. I love the intricate flowers and the Czech patterns. She gives me immense magical girl but death vibes hahaha

And as for Karma's...ahem.... "hot" Death outfit.....yeah. He is fine I ain't gonna lie. Just SAMESIES

As for the meeting, that is 100% Karma. Karma would just watch and wait and be like "ok let's see if I die" even though he fully knows he's gonna die and suffer for the rest of his life 🤣🤣🤣🤣. If it means he gets to see your face in his final moments, he would!!!!!!!!!!

Also OOH! 50%! Mwahahahaha. Karma in that case would sign serious deals with the cult, so he can just watch you in action and save it on his phone. I'd imagine he'd share it with José and be like

"look at my bbygurl, look at her cute cheeks when she fights. And the way she stares into the deepest parts of my heart...mmh. Did you also hear the way she was like "I have a man to get to"?!?!?! THAT'S ME, JOSÉ!!! THAT'S FUCKING ME. I'M HER MAN. I AM THE MAN. THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY FUCKING LIFEEEEEEEEEEE"

J: "Karma. I asked for a pizza delivery not an entire statement bro"

Another thing is that I imagine Karma manipulating the cult to his own benefit. Puppeteering, in a way. Make Lenka feel like she's in control of her own life, when he is the one making it happen. This would happen as the relationship deepens down the line, where he becomes more possessive and obsessive of her.

I'm pretty sure there's a lot more things he'd do but at this point bestie idfk it's almost 2 AM 😭😭😭😭

Finally, thank you. Thank you for loving the blog, the art, and the shenanigans that happen on this blog, including the lack of updates. I've just been heavily burnt out so seeing these messages, no matter how small, really mean a lot to me. I cannot express my gratitude and enthusiasm for having you guys around during my burnout. I truly love each and every single one of you guys and the time you take to look at my stuff.

And so guys, feel free to share your OCs and their stories. I may not be able to get through them all, but know that I read, re-read, and continue to re-read. I love your little guys, just as much as you love my little guys. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Lastly, my apologies for taking so long to respond.

I hope this gift is acceptable to you, bestie.

With love,

Yanaleese

(P.S. - can I crop that image of Karma crying in the meme? I'd love to make it my pfp hahahaha)

[pichiflu-draws]

(Give It) Another Shot!

Summary: After getting fired from my previous job, I get hired at 79's the clone bar on Coruscant.

Mentions of getting fired and cheating. Very OCs and dialog heavy. 1k words.

I'm sorry if this is complete nonsense, English is not my first language and this is the first time that I sat down and wrote an story, or at least I tried to. Also I wrote on my study breaks so I don't know if it makes it better or worse. When descriptions of myself are mentioned they are reference of my sona, which I hope to make a reference sheet for myself soon

"Okay, I think I finally got it!" I celebrated, pouring the bloody rancors into the glasses lined up on the counter. I watched as each of my test subjects took a glass and drank, well except Radio, who always had something to say.

"Where's the rancor bone?" the trooper asked referring to the sugar bone that usually was served with the drink. Which I didn't put on none of the glasses.

"Really, vod? That's what you—" a hiccup interrupted Choreo. "—That's what you're worried about?"

"We're here to help them improve and serve the drinks correctly!" Radio tried to defend himself.

Shailaja —the beautiful godsend that she was— stopped them before the two could begin arguing. I wondered briefly if that was the same tone she used with the preschoolers she taught when they started to get rambunctious. She probably sounded way more sober than how she did at the moment, though.

"You should use a bit less vodka, but other than that I think you got it," Whip said, nodding to his now empty glass and readjusting his wobbly girlfriend on his lap.

"You think so?"

I was hopeful of getting the hang of a couple recipes before Taungsday night, so Whip's reassurance meant a lot for my growing anxiety.

The thing was, to put it simply, that a few days ago I got fired because I slapped and yelled at a client. In my defense, that guy was being an absolute jerk, yelling to one of my previous coworkers —a highschooler working part-time. Maybe I should have handled less impulsively but I'm not the most rational being on Coruscant.

After that shitshow I had to find a new job. Luckily, Shailaja —my flatmate— and I had another month of our rent paid, so at least I didn't have to worry about that. Unfortunately, I was not having much success finding a new job and was starting to consider going back and beg to get hired back.

That was until Whip and his brothers told me that 79's was looking for new people and after a —ridiculously— short interview, my first shift started Taungsday night, so I had three days to fix my lack of bartender-skills.

Which lead to where we now were: with Gate Squad, a group of Coruscant Guard trooper we have befriended, and Shailaja sitting around our kitchen island and with me making drinks.

Thankfully for the Corries and Whip in particular, they had the night free of patrol duty so they could enjoy a free dinner and my subpar cocktails and would be able to stay the night in our apartment. Good thing Shailaja and I had a nice collection of pillows and blankets because, except Whip, they where going to sleep on our living room floor. On spare mattresses, of course.

"You don't need to worry so much, birdy" said Nexu, probably the most sober if you didn't take me into account.

"Yeah! You'll do great, sweetheart!!" exclaimed my Togruta friend, almost falling from her perch on Whip's lap.

"Okay, I'm cutting you off, Shailaja. You had way too much to drink," I said filling another glass with water and looking for something for her to eat.

"See! You even have the bartender attitude down!" cheered Radio.

"Besides," Disk, who has been quietly drinking, said ", our brothers in the front-lines are used to some nasty moonshine they brew themselves. I'm pretty sure that they'll happily chug whatever you serve them".

When I opened the door to 79's on Taungsday I was met with a human woman behind the bar. She looked over at me from the shelves of bottles and said:

"Ah, you must be the newbie"

She then introduced herself as Sira Borr, and was the main bartender of the bar. I hesitated when she asked me how much experience I had making drinks but at the end I decided to be honest. She nodded and patted me on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, kid" she told me even if we probably were close in age ", most of the time the troopers order a beer or a glass of spotchka, nothing too fancy. And you can always ask me if you need help, you're under my wing". She laughed. "Get it? Because you have wings?"

I chuckled at her attempt of humor. Maybe this won't be so bad?

Sira began showing me around the place as the rest of the workers began filling in. I wasn't able to remember all the names, as most of my attention was on the collection of liquors and tools behind the bar. For the most part they seemed nice.

According to Sira, it was going to be a quiet night —at least by 79's standards— since none of the most rambunctious battalions were on the front, which would give me the time to get used to how the things worked at the bar.

No sooner than the neon sign switched to 'open' clones started filling the bar.

Some went straight to the booths, looking like they had those distributed among them, while others went directly to the dance floor or the bar. Thankfully, Sira was right and the main thing I had to do was open beer bottles and partake in light conversation or clean glasses, which I was happy to do.

I was chatting with a silver haired trooper named Sinker when a human woman with tear stained make up sat suddenly at the bar.

"Give me the strongest thing you have" she ordered with a crack in her voice.

My ears raised and I felt my tail stiffen in surprise. "I- uh-" came out of my mouth, a very intelligent response I must say.

I looked over at Sinker, as if he could somehow help me.

"H- He cheated" said the woman before breaking into sobs on the counter-top. Sinker and I exchanged another look. He awkwardly gave two pats to the woman's shoulder, making her cry twice as hard.

What a way to start my first day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blame @orangez3st because she was the one that gave me the little push I needed to try my hand at writing. And big shoutout to @scrappy-scrapper-scrapping-by cause I've been bothering him with beverage and bar culture questions.

[chaos-and-sparkles]

I yearn to talk about my Dracula!Holmes au, and the universe has seen fit to give me free will and internet access, so talk i shall.

Listen. Hear me out just hear me out.

We literally have Johnathan motherfucking Harker whose written POV we read Dracula from for like a solid half of the book, right. Well, no more, he's John Watson now babeyyy, a retired army man now gainfully employed as a lawyer who's off overseas to act as estate agent to the strange and eccentric client who has expressed interest in moving to foggy London... Count Holmes! [insert jazz hands]

Instead of being Evil(tm) and plotting to take over London or whatever, my guy is just Autistic. Also riddled with ADHD and in desperate need of some enrichment in he goddamn enclosure. He will also in fact be trans, because. Of course. Vampirism as a metaphor for queerness and the social ostracization that follows as a punishment and having inherently queer narratives intertwined in them etc etc... anyhow! Count Sherlock Holmes, vampire detective!!!

(I do also want him to be aroace, or aroacespec at least, but I'm willing to negotiate for the Johnlock and the Johnlock alone.)

Mina Harker here is of course the one and only Mary Morstan, although it is clearly a lavender marriage, because we aren't cowards in this household and so Mary gets to be gay with her Lucy equivalent here, just as god intended. I haven't decided who her Lucy equivalent will be yet but this au is still young (technically I've been going insane about it in my mind for like a month or two but whatever) and there's no reason we can't make up an OC for her Lucy.

John Watson, resident gay doctor lawyer, of course, is smart enough to realize the enigmatic Count Holmes' vampiric secret within like one adventure, but he sure is going to have a slow burn of realizing just how gay he is for said enigmatic Count Holmes. We, of course, get to witness this tooth rotting bullshit firsthand as we read his diary entries and some later letters to Mary.

And instead of being one long gothic horror narrative, it's just adventure of the week with your friendly neighborhood crime solving vampire, the various other mythical creatures who do said crimes, and Just Some Guy.

Just, every Sherlock Holmes adventure adapted into this au with other supernatural elements. The guy from the Red Headed League is a local villager being bamboozled by a leprechaun, the Silver Blaze thing is about a kelpie. Everyone including Sherlock was operating on the assumption that Irene Adler was a siren, but actually she was just a regular human, and instead of unlearning misogyny (bc I don't see trans vampire Sherlock living so long through changing times and society and being sexist), Sherlock has to learn not to underestimate the intelligence of humans.

Also, he's just really excited to have this new human, John, living in his castle. So curious, too, about humans, he has sequestered himself from them for such a long time and John seems like a very interesting one. He's probably the first friend Sherlock has had in a long time, too.

Also. Instead of being warded off or harmed by garlic, to Sherlock, garlic is just the vampire version of cocaine. He just gets high as fuck off garlic. Could live on the stuff. And the reason people think he's warded off by garlic is just because he was seen getting high off his ass, turning into a bat, and flying away in loop de loops upon consuming garlic one (1) time. And everyone thought it's his weakness. And he never bothered correcting them bc Why Would He. He's basically getting free cocaine left and right from villagers who are scared/wary of the supernatural Count Holmes and only go to him when there's no other option, and it's no bother to leave people he's not investigating alone.

I genuinely do think cocaine!garlic addicted Sherlock has so much comedic potential, it really is so beloved to me. Just imagine, if you will, an extremely put-upon John Watson caring for Batlock who has gotten high off his ass and refuses to stop flying into his own antique chandelier.

I was also thinking that it would be funny to have Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Turner in place of Dracula's sexy vampire roommates or whatever those three were lmao (I couldn't think of a third character, sorry)

Also. Obviously. Van Helsing has got to be Moriarty, by virtue of opposition. I do think their whole deal has a lot of potential to be very funny and entertaining also. I am also considering it might be fun to have Lucy's other suitors be the Scotland Yarders, like Lestrade, Gregson and what have you, but that risks missing out on the very fun possible dynamic of "Sherlock being exasperated with the dumbass out of their depth Yarders he keeps helping" raised to like the hundredth degree so. I honestly would like people's thoughts on that.

Anyway so YES, Dracula au please and thank you. Maybe with endgame QPR Johnlock? Yes? Please? Queerplatonic husbands Johnlock is my shit.

In conclusion: THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK <3

[tcwmatchmakingau]

The Beauty In All, Part Two

Editor's note: written by @deejadabbles Pairing: Echo x GN!reader Rating: General Audience (but minors DNI) Summary: Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice- still shame on you, don't take advantage of my kindness! After so many times of falling for people who mock and manipulate your kind nature, you thought that love, true love, was simply not in the cards for you. Thankfully, Right to Love is here to make sure you and a lucky ARC trooper get your happy ending together. A.N: For some clarity: in my take on this AU, Palps had his "unfortunate accident" pretty late into the og clone wars timeline, so Echo was still rescued from the techno union and was rolling with the bad batch for awhile. And of course, since this is an everyone lives AU too, Tup's chip never activated so that whole thing never went down, Everyone lives, everyone's rescued, happy endings all around! Also....if you guys read this chapter closely, you'll see references to more stories I have planned for this AU *wink wink* Lastly, Daria is @blueink-bluesoul 's wonderful OC, who you will find in other works of this AU! Word Count: 2,742

Warnings: Mentions and discussions of ableism

Part One

With all her appointments taken care of for the day, Maura sat at her desk and got to work with the stack of profiles under her care. With her favorite playlist starting in the background and a shawl wrapped loosely around her shoulders, she started sorting today’s new clients. She used her own little “personality-type” system to highlight and sort each of them, which made it easier to draw up a short list of possible matches for each client, which were then looked into deeper from there.

She had gotten this process down to a nice, practiced rhythm and had just begun drawing up the ‘maybe-matches’ for the first new client, when there was a knock on her door. As usual, she gave a distracted noise to whoever was on the other side, and most people at RTL would know it meant a cheerful, “come in”.

“I come bearing gifts,” came an almost light tone, and Maura didn’t have to look up from her desk unit to know it was Kix.

Still, because it was Kix, she tore herself away from her work and smiled up at him. He was holding two togo cups in his hands, both bearing the logo of the tapcaf down the street that many at the matchmaking service frequented nowadays.

Kix was giving his most charming smile as he handed the cup to her, “One hot cocoa, with extra whipped cream and caramel drizzle. And yes, hot cocoa, because I know that, even if you like it, caf this late in the day makes you stay up all night.”

His smile was very infectious, not that she needed much reason to smile, but it was easy around a man like Kix. “You are the actual sweetest,” she said as she took the cup, waiting till she removed the lid and swiped some of the cream before adding, “even if it is just a bribe.”

Kix didn’t even flinch. He was still smiling as he put a hand over his heart, “But I bring you drinks all the time without ulterior motives.”

Maura leaned back in her chair and narrowed her eyes playfully at the medic, “In the morning, yes, not in the afternoon. Come on, Kix, out with it.”

He at least had the decency to look like he was thinking his answer over, even though she knew he had whatever he wanted to say planned down to a T. Finally he sank into her chair, instantly grabbing the tooka plushy and holding it aloft. “So, I had a lovely chat with one of today’s clients in the waiting room and I was thinking that they would be perfect for…you know who,” he moved the tooka’s head as if it agreed with him. Dang it, he was bringing out all the cute charm today

Honestly, she should have expected this, especially since she knew exactly who he was talking about…and that the thought crossed her mind too. How could it not? You were charming and sweet and obviously cared deeply about people, especially clones. One of her previous clients, Tiio, had sent her a long, detailed letter of recommendation the moment you signed up for RTL. Everyone knew about the whole flower crown event now and, according to Daria, even Fox was fond of you and the way you treated his brothers.

And, as for ‘you know who’, Maura had met the stubborn brother in question a few times now, when Kix invited her along to 79s. Even when she wasn’t working, Maura couldn’t help but to read people, to think about and observe them, and that man may benefit from someone like you.

But, in the end, none of that mattered. Not until Echo came to RTL himself. 

“Kix,” it was undoubtedly a warning, though it had no real teeth since she knew he was a good enough man not to make her resort to that. “You know I can’t do anything until he comes to us. And even then, I can’t set them up on a date just because you got a feeling or a vibe.”

“I know I know,” he set the tooka plush on his lap so he could hold up both hands to her, “Obviously you know more than I do, I just had a short conversation, but,” he shrugged, “I don’t know, I just got this feeling when I talked to them. You’re the expert but, if I can finally drag him in here, will you at least give their compatibility a look over?”

Maura quirked an eyebrow, “You think you’re wearing him down?”

He ran a hand over his neatly designed hair, looking a little smug now, “You know not to underestimate my skills. We’re going out tonight, a bunch of us and a lot are bringing their partners. I bet the morning caf that Echo’s name will pop up in the appointment requests by this time tomorrow.”

All she could do was wave her hands, “I won’t promise anything, but, if he submits his profile, I’ll keep all possible matches in mind.” Oh, he was practically beaming now. “But Kix, don’t expect me to wait for him if you still haven’t convinced him,” her tone was firm, but he knew she was only saying it as a professional reminder.

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” was his pleased reply, “I won’t even say I told you so when he signs up.”

“No.”

Kix looked quite affronted, “You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

Echo’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead, “You mentioned Right to Love, I know where this conversation is going.”

As if he couldn’t be bothered with his brother’s offended look, Echo simply took another drink of his Bespin brandy as Kix recovered himself. Currently, between everyone who had shown up tonight, Echo, Kix, Tech, and Hunter were the only ones still sitting at the booth and table they’d claimed. Fives always made sure to include Echo when the old 501st gang went out, and in turn, Echo tended to drag clone force 99 along with him. It had taken…a while for the two teams to get used to each other, but they'd managed something of a relationship by now.

Kix leaned back in his chair, “All I said was that there’s been another influx of new clients recently.”

“And,” Echo said in a bored tone, “that was your attempt at shifting the conversation so you can try to convince me to sign up, again.”

“There’s something wrong with that?” Kix shrugged, unbothered by the resistance, “It’s kind of my job to pester my brothers into taking care of themselves.”

“I don’t see how getting set up on a blind date is ‘taking care of myself’.”

“You know it’s more than that.”

“Kix,” Echo’s voice was a rumble now, but made it a little less barbed at the edges when he said, “why are you so set on this?”

The other man couldn’t help but sigh. He cast a look around the table, Tech was engrossed in his datapad while Hunter leaned back with his eyes closed. Hopefully, they would use the loud music as a way to turn a blind ear.

Still, Kix leaned in and lowered his tone when he said, “Vod, I see the way you look at them.” 

Even though he certainly didn’t need to, he nodded his head toward their brothers. To Fives who was dancing with his once shy partner. To Tup who was cheering his girlfriend on at the billiards table. To Rex who, while never having been a client, still found love at the little service devoted to it.

“It’s okay to want what they have, Echo,” Kix said, and he hoped the sincerity in his tone came through.

Echo didn’t look at him, at first he seemed to stare at nothing in particular, but Kix knew his eyes were drifting between the pairs. He saw the way he watched Fives tease a blush out of his cyare, or Tup smile when his girl leaned her head on his shoulder, or Rex and his little matchmaker staring at each other with pure adoration.

Kix took a sip of his own drink before adding, “Look, I’m not saying love’s going to make life perfect or anything, but, I think they could find someone who could really make you happy.” He waited a beat, then nudged his old friend in the shoulder. “Hell, I’m sure they can even find someone who can handle how grumpy you are. And when that happens, I know you can make that person happy too.” This time he didn’t give Echo a chance to reply, instead, scooting his chair back from the table as he took their glasses, “Think about that while I get us another round.”

  Still there, at the table, Echo watched the medic go and released a long breath from the depths of his chest. Yes, Echo had thought about Right to Love many, many times. Every time one of his brothers gushed about their partners, he would feel a small, short tug in his chest. Echo never had been, nor ever would be, the type of man who needed to be in a relationship, but, there was still a longing there. A pining, almost. And he supposed he owed it to himself to finally acknowledge its existence.

“I think it’s a good idea.”

The voice startled Echo out of his thoughts and he turned to find Hunter, still sitting with his head tilted back and eyes shut.

“All you can lose is time, Echo, so why not try it?”

“There’s more to it than that,” he grumbled.

Hunter finally opened his eyes and looked at him. “So? Since when have you backed down from anything? I would have thought the ARC trooper in you would like the risk.”

Echo knew what Hunter was doing, especially since Hunter was observant enough to realize what he meant by ‘more to it’. Still, he had to admit that Hunter's challenge was working.

And, once Echo thought about it with a little more grace, he supposed Kix had a point. If there was anywhere that could help him find someone who was nothing like his previous dalliances, it was probably RTL.

Kix was making his way back to the table now, and got a thankful nod from Hunter when he handed him a fresh drink. Before the medic could even settle back in his chair, Echo knocked him off balance with his next words.

“Alright, you win.” 

  If Echo wasn’t so hardwired to see things through, he might have walked out the door during the time he waited in the lobby. Filling out the profile questions had made this all feel a little too real all of a sudden and a part of him still couldn’t believe he was actually doing this.

Still, seeing the look on not only Kix’s face, but the way Fives’ lit up when he heard that Echo was coming here, made it all a little easier. Kix at least had the decency not to keep harping on the matter after he ‘won’ so to speak. Fives, on the other hand, couldn't stop going on about how excited he was that Echo was ‘getting out there’ again and would finally find someone they could go on double dates with.

It was half endearing, half annoying as all kriff.

Now, Echo was being led into a cozy little office by a woman who put the casual in business casual. A part of him was glad it was Maura who took him on, at least he knew her, even if they weren’t necessarily friends. Though, he supposed if they were, that would be some kind of conflict of interest.

“So, how does this work?” he asked after settling down in the chair across from her.

“Right now? We talk so I can get to know you better, so I can understand your needs and what you’re looking for better.”

To the point, but not unkind, Echo could respect that. “What do you want to know?”

For a moment she simply looked at him, considering and he felt a little uneasy under the gaze, not that he would let it show. Then, “I want to know why you were so reluctant to come here.” Her eyes softened a little, though she didn’t take them off him, “You don’t strike me as someone who balks at love, or even what we do here. And yet, Kix has spent many a lunch break complaining about how you brushed him off every time he brought it up to you.”

Alright, diving into the deep end. At least she didn’t waste time. Still, he needed a moment to think, to collect himself and she seemed patient, settling back in her chair to relax a little.

“It’s not just Right to Love," he started after a while, "it’s not as if I have some weird prejudice against this place. It’s just, dating in general, I suppose.”

“A bad history with dating?”

Echo scoffed, “Yeah, you could say that.”

She didn’t reply, just continued to look back at him, only now she gave him a small, encouraging smile.

Again, he waited a moment, falling back on some of his strategic tendencies before he even thought about it. Old habits died hard, but, he did want to think his answer over carefully. It’s not as if he kept these things secret and, if he was going to tell someone, it should be the woman responsible for finding him someone who wouldn't repeat the mistakes of lovers past.

Echo shifted in his chair, eyes drifting down to the dark wood of her desk. “In the past, when I’ve tried to date, I either get one extreme or the other.” He lifted his prosthetic hand and waved it over the rest of him, over every cybernetic detail. “A lot of people can’t handle this. They act like they can at first, but I see the way they look at me before eventually forgetting my comm number. Or, they’re at the other end of the spectrum. They see all this and think that they need to ‘fix’ me.” The word was bitter in his mouth, and his eyes snapped up to meet hers again, “I don’t need to be fixed, just like I don't need someone who can't stand the way I look. I don't want either of those. I want someone to look at me and…”

His voice trailed off, which was a little unlike him. Echo was usually so sure in his words and actions.

“To look at you and just see you?” Maura finished for him, and the words struck home.

Echo found himself taking in a breath, then, he almost let out a huff of a laugh, “Yeah. Just me. I’m not saying that these aren’t a part of who I am, they are, but there’s so much more to me than that.” He sighed, "So yeah, that's why I'm a little reluctant on dating."

That small, encouraging smile got wider and warmer as she straightened up in her chair, “Thank you for being so honest with me, Echo. Being hesitant to put yourself in our care is understandable, given all that.” It was only then that her eyes left him, instead focusing on her datapad as she typed away. “I’m not going to belittle the trust you’ve put in me by making flowery promises. I can’t guarantee that whoever I match you with will undoubtedly see you the way you deserve to be seen. I will, however, promise that I won’t give up until we find someone who does.”

Echo chuckled at that, “So, you’ll take on my high-maintenance case?”

Maura smiled at him, “High-maintenance? Oh, dear Echo, don’t flatter yourself. If you were truly that, we probably would have sent you to Daria. I don’t think there’s ever been a challenge that woman didn’t want to tackle." She winked at him, "You’re stuck with me instead.”

“You’re at least honest with me,” Echo shrugged, “And Kix seems to have faith in you, so I’ll trust his judgment.”

“I’m so glad I have glowing recommendations,” she drawled as she finished her notes.

He actually found himself smiling and almost, almost felt like something in his chest lightened. Alright, Echo wasn’t too proud to admit when someone else was right and, somehow, he actually had a good feeling about this.

 .

[takeru-tenkuuji]

Please do tell us more about your ocs Ikki and Ace bc I too have brainrot about them 👀👀👀 (only if you want to of course) -🟡

anon im so sorry about what im going to subject you and many people to (if they read this (or the attempted version 2 that i tried to recall from memory due to me losing this draft originally, neither of which is advised)

***basically i found this draft lost in god knows where?? its the same but it..sounded more coherent than the other one and i just think itd be silly if i just had both left out there...lol..the only thing updated is that i added an extra doodle. everything else is untouched)

um something something heed suspension of disbelief. like ive warned, this is basically something totally made up in my head to the point that it deviates severely from the work's original intentions and such

but siiiiiiince you aaaaasked (cry) and i am currently sick with the flu so literally sick in the head i will do this until i think oh god, i have to be put down and never come back to the internet because i put my shitty yaoi au in here so in detail

we'll start with adjustments to revice's general plot (lol)

so this is an au where for me, george rly goes for the "make the ultimate kamen rider" guy. his father stays forever an asshole dedicated to finding shit about science, and would only create shit like the weekend to clean up his mess, but not because he feels genuine remorse. this (imo) gives george more reason to continue on hating his dad(?), and thinking he's creating something to surpass him.

george's obsession is created by his father neglecting him in his childhood and leaving him with just kamen rider to watch and play with while he worked. george grows up with a growing vengeance to beat his father at his own game i guess. feeds into a potential narrative parallel with olteca? idk

so george sets his sights on potential candidates: igarashi daiji, and kadota hiromi. both seek some sort of..justice or strength, proving one's worth, (till it all goes horribly wrong via canonical events). and of course, the inheritor of revice, ikki comes into play. george gambles on this.

in this version, they also find that ikki is not just a descendant of giff thanks to his father's genes, but giff's target human vessel. the only reason vail hates vice's guts besides wanting to kill genta's family, because he's protected under giff's will.

giff creates a demon, vice, to inherit all of ikki's memories (at least, the painful ones he doesn't want to remember, but it eventually becomes just, everything lol). vice gets a consciouness, ikki's humanity that wants to protect ikki, but ikki wants to throw away his humanity and becomes an empty kind of guy. vice inherits the desires to be boisterous and selfish, instead of somehow put together and reliable, but instead it makes ikki wonder what the hell he wanted to begin with, and desperately fills in the hole by trying to help people via nosiness, etc. hence the whole volcano form convo i think. idr. LOL

so fast forward to the sorta endish of the season, they destroy giffs body, which is perfect so he can be released from his physical form and move on to vice/ikki. george knows all of this information, and decides it's the perfect setup to test ikki's will to become a kamen rider through the wildest hardship or whatever. so george goes and tells everyone that the igarashis are descendants of giff and spreads fear that even though giff is destroyed, this family exists. shit happens.

of course, happy spa's small but passionate loyal clients try to protect the family and such, but then vice becomes a conduit to transferring giff's consciousness into ikki once he loses all his memories, he transforms into his own demon and starts attacking everyone.

(i tried lol) (sneaking in a new image)

giff has a good hold over ikki till- uh oh. huh. the demon you put all of the human memories is goin a lil crazy. vice, fueled by ikki's memories and intense emotions, alongside giff's uncontrollable power, ends up destroying giff (yay) but takes over ikki's psyche as an absolutely uncontrollable beast.

george, seeing this as a failed experiment, uses his backup plan to be the ultimate kr himself as juuga to defeat ikki, becoming a hero for the public watching and cheering him on. just like kamen rider!

except of course, igarashi family, everyone known through the season, the weekend kids, hiromi try to get through to ikki revisiting their beloved memories with him (gl daiji) while the happy spa friends try to hold back the angry mobs.

ikki begins to regain consciousness and wonder if he really was that kind of guy before

ikki's family is the last to speak to him and of course it's like. fond memories, bad memories, things that they like and hate about him, things that make him him, etc, and give that big ol berserker man a hug.

vice finally speaks up with his piece, revisiting his own individual memories with ikki as his demon, etc.

george is perplexed and livid, but he's not sure why. this would count as a success in his experiment, but not in the way that he thought it would be. the cliches of kr fulfilled(?). and the crowd no longer cheers him on.

ikki regains revice form, no vice because vice has uh. merge merged with him now. fights george, last busybody guy to hit. woooooo ahhh (coughing hacking)

and here comes my oc, post season vice LMFAO. which is just the hbdvd design bc i believe in giving maeda the chance to be just a liddle goth and have a little dangly earring

post canon vice is pretty much a preservation and a box holding ikki's memories, if ikki fights and forgets, he reminds him. but due to inheriting these memories and merging with ikki's messed up post canon soul, he ends up a lot more subdued as ikki no longer gives a shit about being a loud boy and breaking free. he just doesn't want to be alone. LOL (and in caption note, it's preservation vice and destruction ikki ty sorry. ikki in my brain wants to destroy memories, vice preserves them for him) yay. he switches in as easily as kagerou does with daiji, but doesn't like to make much conversation outside.

and FINALLY this is where my other oc (jkjk) ace comes in.

the weird ass movie, revice and geats battle royale whatever, ace uses a desire wish on ikki for him to remember all the battles he's had in place of ikki potentially wishing vice back. (i guess in this au, it'd just be in place of him wishing literally anything better for himself. also vice would absolutely hate that (ace)).

in terms of au material in geats, i believe in evil parents..or more like...morally.....wack ass parents....... like you can't be the goddess of creation that was abused for a silly future man game and not go a little crazy... so to me, the mother that ace seeks is long gone, and when he finds her again before she dies, she tells him they should just fuck up the world (thumbs up) for everything it's done to them. ace is faced with 1) contemplating the human side of him that craved what he believed was family (through keiwa and his sister, the complicated relationship between neon and her family, as well as ikki's) 2) whether he wanted to do anything with his power towards the world because of his mom, what his mom put him through, what the world put them through (hence the tarot card, judgement. the power and the perspective to judge the world?)

i love the ninetailed fox theme sorry so not only is he a white haired anime boy in god form, BUT A FURRY

so in this perspective, ikki and ace represent opposite sides of like..the demon and angel shared blood with human spectrum, and how they go about the world that way. how they see each other is a weird balance that clashes and also completes each other(?)

anyway that's my spiel because im losing brain as we speak and starting to feel the effects of oh god, who the hell is going to read this. if you made it here, im sorry. uhhhhh i love yaoi............

[jostansbandc]

like half of my current ocs used to be cookie run ocs SO I REVISITED THAT!!! um.. shudder... original designs and info below the cut...

IM GONNA BREAK THESE GUYS DOWN OK

So first is Alea and Lexi who used to be ONE cookie name Cherry Divinity Cookie, and she was a fashion designer in her 30s. Now she is two teenage girls who share a soul, they do like fashion, and in a way do become fashion designers, but instead they made armor! Cherry Divinity had a client who then turned into Alea and Lexi's boss' nephew IDK IDK I can say. The Alea design came before Lexi, but Lexi in canon age is older.

Then is Vyndove and their baby Quillanna who were Candy Cane Cookie and Candy Drop Cookie. I wanted a lumberjack with a baby, i made a lumberjack with a baby. I don't remember doing much with them, which is funny bc now they're so developed!

Next is Enriqade who used to be Salsa Cookie um? He was like an office worker but also a bullfighter idek, he was made to kiss up maru and he still does that now so whatever.

Pulls necktie... gulp... Maru used to be Powdered Sugar Cookie SHE WAS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT OK She was kind, quiet, motherly, (also her earliest design she was 6 but that changed like 5 minutes later) and she just did laundry and made clouds for fun. Now she's a miserable lawyer who wasts her life away yay! way to go, guy.

I'm gonna' list a few more of my ocs that used to be cookies- Some I don't know if I've even named on this account. There's Yotgruil, ChiChi, Lin, Fizz, and then two more I haven't drawn. YAWN! I'm probably forgetting some lol

[ruvviks]

OOOH HEHE. page & two for vitali, ace & two reversed for vincent and seven & nine for mikhail <3

oc asks!

[SEVEN] - Are they secretive? If so, what about? Is it something small, or something serious?

mikhail isn't necessarily very secretive but he also isn't one to tell a lot about himself unprompted. many of his friends have gone years without knowing he studied medicine in uni and is now a year of studying away from a phd LMAO

[NINE] - Are they an anxious person? If so, what makes them feel that way, and how intense do their feelings get?

mikhail is very anxious but specifically about his relationships with his friends :( he's always hyperaware of his own behavior and mannerisms and everything he says and does and is constantly trying to make himself smaller to not take up too much space, terrified he will end up pushing people away

of course this goes better over time and nowadays it's barely noticable anymore but the fears are definitely still 100% there. especially when meeting new people he tries to make a lot of effort to be likable in a way that he thinks will appeal to them but he tires himself out so fucking fast like that :((

he's also always constantly worrying if he's bothering his friends. overanalyzing every single little thing that happens or that's said to the point he believes he did something wrong. it's a setting he can't seem to turn off in his brain despite being hyperaware of what he's doing to himself </3

[ACE] - Do people consider them sharp/witty? Are they quick to adapt to social situations?

vincent can be pretty sharp when he's comfortable in a situation! also when he's uncomfortable but then it's more sharp as in alert and a little paranoid or on edge. when he's comfortable it's a lot easier for him to mix into a conversation and make funny well-timed remarks because he's in the flow of the conversation :^) in those situations it's a lot easier for him to adapt to sudden changes in environment or company

[TWO, REVERSED] - What confuses them the most? Is it something literal, or a broad concept?

vincent is very easily confused when people are unclear with their instructions or intentions. he likes getting direct answers to his questions or when people ask him questions he likes it when they're clear about it and not secretly asking something else within the question or whatever. same with just general communication, as soon as someone seems to be playing 5d chess while he's simply trying to talk something out normally he can get very frustrated

[PAGE] - Are they a curious person? If so, what are some topics they would like to learn more about?

vitali is pretty curious but more in the sense of listening to other people's conversations and learning more about them and their interests rather than actively researching stuff himself. he enjoys listening to his friends rambling about literally whatever and the information they tell him actually sticks in his brain, but he's not the kinda guy who goes scrolling through wikipedia for fun he does NOT have the attention span or the patience for that

[TWO] - Are they indecisive, or do they know what they want when they want it? If they are indecisive, what do they do to help make a choice (e.g, talk it out, flip a coin, etc.)?

this one is fun because vitali can usually very easily make decisions. he HAS to because he's a fixer and he has to think and act quickly on almost a daily basis to keep his mercs safe and to take new gigs from clients and such. he's good at analyzing people and situations which helps with making decisions quickly so Usually it is not a problem at all

however when he's caught off guard by something it can cause his whole brain to reboot and then he will not know what the fuck to do. very obvious example here would be the whole situation in the broker fic where he doesn't know how to deal with the broker anymore because there's entirely too many things happening at once for him :( whenever things are too personal for him or involve his loved ones his emotions can get in the way to the point he starts overthinking everything which makes it a lot more difficult to get things done

[cosmicanamnesis]

asking ab your guys. literally whatever or whomever has been on your mind lately. since you reblogged that thing about ocs and you have cool ones

so I hit up TA the other day, right, cause I was thinking

we've basically fleshed out what kind of sound the MTVs have, right, like what kind of music they make

BUT we've also got these characters, Null and Void, which were originally TAs characters, not ones we made together, and Null and Void are also sort of a band on the side, just kind of a hobby, and I couldn't remember if we'd really fleshed that out

so we're talking, and we're going back and forth, and we knew it would be some kind of electronic something but that's as far as we got

so we talked some more and looked some shit up and I've yet to be able to find a good example of it but I'm sure there's some weirdo out there who makes this sort of music but we dubbed it Electric Klezmer and it is. my white whale of music rn

WHY am I putting so much effort into figuring out what kind of music these people make and/or listen to? I mean. is there an easier way to capture a personality?

more on Null and Void under the cut

They're thieves by trade. I don't remember which was which (I dont have that document on my phone) but one was a hacker and the other had more of a high tech cat burgler thing and they met on a job, hit it off, and basically skipped town and went into business together. IIRC they got in with the Technofae originally as clients, then Morgan brought them on as Changeling operatives once she learned their skill set

Null and Void have a sort of. Statler and Waldorf thing going on. When in the same room as Morgan's Lieutenant, the three of them take on a Merry/Pippin/Aragon dynamic.

Other names they have used in the past include Assault and Battery, Break and Enter, Aid and Abet, Shock and Awe, and once the Lieutenant referred to them as "Crash and Burn" after a botched mission

Null is Deaf. His favorite kinds of music are ones with a strong dance beat.

Void has the insufferable habit of listening to the radio, which Null hates with a burning passion.

They regularly change their Glamours, using personas in a commedia dell'arte fashion

Which one's which? Doesn't terribly matter, but their cybernetics give them away if you pay attention

[littledragondork]

I got a few!! My personal fav of the bunch is my Werewolf Khajiit Ts'vari! She's a Cathay raht werewolf and an ex member of the companions as well as ex member of the dawnguard. She was found by some farmers as a cub after her caravan was attacked by werewolves, she survived but not before being infected with lycanthropy. Ts'vari was raised by the farmers who found her and they all worked hard to make sure she would take control in her transformations. In her free time she is a gardener and a florist as well as a work partner with my vampire oc Illile.

To add on, Illile is my ancient dunmer vampire lord OCs, they are VERY old to the point they can't even remember their own birthday or age, they remember being a chimer but it was when they were a small child and its very fuzzy for them. They survived by staying low, not being too greedy (didn't always work) and moving around constantly to stay out of public eye. Their main form of cover up is working as a baker and making a variety of pastries, they also sell special pastries made from blood (replacement for eggs) for vampire clients. They are a very well practiced mage and joined the Volkihar clan temporarily as a plan with Ts'vari to bring them down as a "guy on the inside".

The two met when Ts'vari was on the hunt for vampires and Illile begged and promised to help her with whatever she wants in exchange for their life. Ts'vari not really expecting the, what she was told would be a "heartless and bloodthirsty killer" to look so weak and pathetic, agreed against her better judgment. The two became friends the more they worked together, though Ts'vari still doesnt trust Illile as much as Illile trusts Ts'vari.

My fellow Elder Scrolls oc havers, PLEASE tell me in the tags/reblogs about your non-DB/HOK/Nerevarine ocs. Tell me about your Just Some Guy, your guild member/master, your secret third thing. I wanna hear about them all!!!

(bonus points if you reblog with art)

[raharaco]

Questions for Sibling OCs - Kazuki-Sakuya Edition

TW // sibling incest , TWINCEST , mentioned rape

Before we get into the Q&A, let's get to know who the characters are!

The one on the lower panel (blue hair) is Ichijou Kazuki, the older twin brother. Long story short, although he is already MARRIED to another guy with red hair and even having two children together, he still wants to stay with his baby brother because of what happened in the past. He feels guilty for Sakuya's whole trauma and PTSD, thinking that it's all his fault for ruining Sakuya's entire life (which, honestly he kinda does in one part) and happiness. He regrets for once leaving Sakuya all by himself because he was too busy denying his feelings for his baby brother with another man.

While the one on the upper panel (purple hair) is Ichijou Sakuya, the younger twin brother. He really loves Kazuki, in fact both of them love each other, but have a severe case of trying to deny their feelings for each other by going out with another person. It runs in the family, apparently! They are only a day apart, Kazuki was born on November 8 while Sakuya on November 9. Both are 36 y.o (surprisingly).

You may ask, "what happened to Sakuya that made Kazuki feel so guilty?" In very straightforward words, he was rap*d and made a slave by his ex-boyfriend and his friends while Kazuki was doing whatever he was doing without knowing what had happened to Sakuya.

Questions were made by the admins on OCsbase, Twitter. Original thread (in Indonesian) on my Twitter, dated 14th December 2023.

1. "How many siblings are they?"

Twogether like a pair of shoes.

2. "Who is the oldest one?"

Kazuki!

3. "Who is the youngest one?"

Sakuya!

4. "What is their age difference?"

Just a day... maybe approximately 7-8 hours.

5. "How is their dynamic?"

Responsible older brother, foolish younger brother. Kazuki is calmer, while Sakuya is more energetic. Literally sun-moon trope.

They're also basically brocons in denial, they are affectionate to each other and don't want to separate but only think of it because, well, they're brothers (whereas they actually love each other in that way)

6. "Are they close, so-so, or even dislike each other?"

They were very close during their childhood, but as adults... they go on their own separate ways (they'll get back together sooner or later, don't worry)

7. "Do they look alike?"

Of course they look alike, they're IDENTICAL twins after all 😭

8. "If they look alike, are they happy to be considered similar to their sibling?"

Kazuki would probably be happy, but Sakuya once had a time when he didn't want to be compared or even had any relations to his brother, even if he was only told that they look alike or people asked if he has a twin brother because he has always been compared to by their parents during his entire life, so Sakuya felt inferior to his more "perfect" twin brother… as a result, he didn't want to be associated with Kazuki in any way due to his enviousness and growing bitterness. Meanwhile, Kazuki was totally oblivious to this.

Nowadays, Sakuya doesn't really mind it, though sometimes he will still feel like he doesn't deserve to be compared to Kazuki (in a good way)... or that he doesn't deserve his big brother's unconditional love...

9. "Who is the father's favorite child?"

It's actually Kazuki since he's the golden child of the family but for some reason I have a feeling that it's Sakuya...????

I'm guessing it's because the father may have felt guilty for indirectly traumatizing Sakuya after he got sexually harassed by his... mistress who was also his CLIENT (he works as a lawyer). But, well, the father did a really bad job of mending their relationship.

10. "Who is the mother's favorite child?"

Kazuki, no questions asked.

11. "Who is everyone's favorite?"

Both of them. Kazuki would be because he is handsome, smart, kind-hearted, and humble even. For Sakuya, it's because he's literally a model, even if he's not that bright in the head.

12. "Who is the author's favorite?"

SAKUYA 🥰💜💜

13. "Who is the most attractive one?"

I feel like it's both in canon but FOR ME, it's Kazuki because he is the more handsome twin, while Sakuya has that cute baby face xixixi

14. "Who is the most talkative one?"

Sakuya.

15. "Who is the most mature one?"

Kazuki.

16. "Who gives in (to their sibling) more often?"

Kazuki, but not to the point of spoiling Sakuya too much.

17. "How would they react if their sibling had a partner?"

"Oh, congratulations," but deep in their hearts they'd have gone crazy and screaming and crying and screaming... and then they would try to forget their forbidden feelings and search for another partner as well (but failed because they really can't stand it without each other, they're both too attached and dependent)

18. "Do they have the same type of partner? What type of partner are they?"

Their type is literally each other 😭

BUT, if you want me to go into really deep details, Kazuki generally likes someone who is passionate about their interests, whether a hobby or a job, no matter how weird his partner's interests would be. It looks like he prefers younger (but not too young, come on guys, we've ditched that idea!) partners, maybe it's because energetic younger people remembers him of Sakuya? He doesn't mind about his partner's flaw and past as long as they can understand and respect each other. Also bonus points if they have pretty eyes...?

While for Sakuya... I think he's the type to look at his potential partner's appearance first (and he usually prefers someone taller and looks more masculine than him). Of course, he won't treat everyone like that before getting to know them first, but I guess it's just something he will always pay attention to firsthand since he's a model? The second thing is he likes intelligent people like doctors cuz he's a dummy. Kind-hearted is a bonus. He would like it if they have an easygoing personality and wouldn't "tie him down" too much.

Note, they're BOTH gay men.

19. "What do they have in common?"

Their face and gender cuz they're literally identical twins, they have a very strong inner bond as twin brothers, and both of them have die—

20. "What makes them different?"

Their height (Kazuki is the taller one, being approximately 195cm), hairstyle, hair and eye color, personality/temperament (Kazuki is phlegmatic, while Sakuya is a sanguine-melancholic mix)... although in actuality, they are not too different from each other.

21. "What do their siblings have that they don't?"

Sakuya doesn't have his parents' love like Kazuki does HAHAHA

However, on the other way around, Kazuki doesn't have the same freedom as Sakuya who is the black sheep of the family (he was often neglected). His entire life path and "dream" career were all decided by his mother, who's also a doctor. Yes, he is interested in science and he was the one who chose to be a surgeon, but it still doesn't change the fact that his mother literally controlled and groomed him like a puppet because she's such a perfectionist who wants everything to go her way or the normal way (like according to the society or how she was raised).

22. "What are their hobbies?"

Sakuya likes photography and traveling out of the house, while Kazuki likes to read nonfiction books and move his body, either by traveling as well or exercising.

23. "Where do their strengths lie?"

Kazuki: His intelligence, charisma, hiding his feelings… literally everything. His weakness would be how DENSE and INSENSITIVE he is to other people's feelings. Plus, he has a major red flag for being a controller.

Sakuya: Posing/acting in front of the camera (he's probably photogenic as well), expressive, kind-hearted and not arrogant. His weakness would be how emotionally sensitive he actually is... and I think he is terrible at making the right decisions.

24. "Do they sleep in the same room?"

They shared a room together when they were little, but as they grew up they were finally given their own rooms, even though Sakuya's room wasn't very adequate (either it used to be a warehouse or the room was small).

My guess is the parents or one of them may have caught on to something between the brothers or they (more like the mother) thought Sakuya was going to be a "nuisance" for Kazuki (like maybe he'll lose focus and fail his studies or Sakuya was going to "influence" Kazuki in "bad" ways cuz they view him as this "delinquent" child) if they leave them together, but nevertheless, they just had to separate them.

In the end, Sakuya much preferred to sneak in and sleep in his brother's room hehe

25. "Do they celebrate their birthdays together?"

Sometimes they would, since their birthdays are only a day apart, usually the parents would decide to celebrate it together on Kazuki's birthday to make it more efficient. Even so, the center of people's attention was more towards Kazuki, though…

As adults, they no longer do it anymore, as the two of them finally celebrate their birthdays on their respective dates.

26. "Would they want to wear matching clothes?"

They probably would, even if they'll sometimes get embarrassed by it since they're in their mid-thirties already 😂

27. "Would they want to be an only child?"

ABSOLUTELY NOT. They will literally explode from loneliness if they try to live without each other in sight!!

28. "Would they want to switch positions with their sibling?"

No.

29. "Would they want another sibling? If yes, would they want an older sibling or a younger sibling?"

Nope, they're too brocon to want a new little sibling or an older sibling. Just having each other is more than enough!!

30. "Would it be better to sacrifice themself, or their own sibling(s)?"

Of course they'd rather sacrifice themselves for each other!!

31. "Are they a good sibling?"

How to say this... as good as they are, there are definitely one or two things that their sibling(s) don't like.

Kazuki will do anything for Sakuya without thinking twice about his feelings and sometimes, his love is just too much for his little brother who has never even received any sort of love in his life. His intentions are good, but the way he expresses them or how he shows Sakuya just how much he loves him to the point of indirectly murdering someone...

Meanwhile, Sakuya felt envious of Kazuki because throughout his entire life, he had to be his older brother's shadow and everyone paid more attention to him even if he tried so hard to be popular and well-liked.

Despite that, he still loves him because Kazuki is the only one who shines oh so brightly in his gloomy world…

32. "What is something they want to say to their sibling, but have never said the message?"

Kazuki hasn't told Sakuya about how much he loves and how proud he is to him even when it's only because he still managed to live despite everything he had gone through. He knows he has to let Sakuya go one day, and that's why he wants to satisfy himself by being affectionate and spoiling his little brother with love AS HIS OLDER BROTHER until he recovers from all his trauma…

While Sakuya hasn't thanked Kazuki for everything he's done. He wants to tell him how much he loves and admires his handsome and cool big brother… he wants Kazuki to always be by his side forever, even if they had to stay as just brothers and nothing more... he wants Kazuki to pamper him all the time whenever he's sad…

And once again: they haven't expressed their true feelings AT ALL!! THEY HAVEN'T DECLARED THEIR LOVE YET!!!!

[bnbc]

The Serpent Queen (Rachel Vogelman's bio)

Rachel was created to become a joke but became a cool-ass fixer instead. I was surprised by how many things I can tell about her, considering the fact that a major part of her shady affairs is still in a very WIP stage ksjdfhsjdfskjdhf

Anyway, enjoy your read:

Rachel was born as the second child in a rich corpo family, so her future was determined from the start: she should’ve become either a media, like her artist mother, or gotten her high place in some media holding her father had connection with. Well, Rachel had her own ideas, but she had to wait until she’d gotten a chance to make them real.

The Vogelman family was quite good considering their corpo lifestyle. Rachel’s father was a really chill guy who owned shares in some media corporation and could afford quitting the rat races. But her mother was both eccentric and hypercontroling, helicopting shit out of her kids’ lives, and quick to start a drama. So, sneaking and plotting quickly became a necessary skill for Rachel to have a bit of a normal life.

Esther Vogelman tried to force both of her kids into the artistic career, but they showed little talent and huge resistance, and even tho Rachel’s elder brother, Lenny, kinda followed family’s tradition by becoming a musical critic, she herself studied network and communication not as to end up as a cog of ‘Network News 54’. As soon as she could she signed a contract with ‘Arasaka’ and left New York for Night City.

[I do not determine what exactly she was doing for ‘saka because when I realized Rachel is not V and made her her own OC some of my friends wanted her as part of their universe, so she is officially a multiverse character with some Arasaka connection but not glued to Jenkins situation so corpo kids could have her too. So, this is official: if you want one more fixer in your book, come to Lele Park in Charter Hills and look for a tall twitchy woman with a cig in one hand and a can of ni-cola in another, consumed with whatever is happening on her smart glasses. She would be happy to work with you if you prove your worth]

During her Arasaka years Rachel sharped her skills of netrunning and intrigues, and made some useful connections with local mercs one of whom was Jackie Welles. They become quite close friends so when she ended up fired from Arasaka (why is this always happening ugh) he helped her to get back on her feet. First she was his partner, but she quickly realized that being Jackie’s pocked netrunner doesn’t suit her ambitions and decided to become a fixer.

She shared this idea with Jackie and he introduced her to Padre, who gave her a task which turned out to be quite a harsh lesson to learn. She ended up owning Padre a lot of money but the gained experience taught her a lot. She left Heywood and came back to Charter Hill where she used to live before her downfall, and there she found her niche.

Rachel became ‘a corpo-fixer’ as they called her on the streets, with her client base mostly consisting out of Charte Hill’s corporates. The skillest that helped her to survive the corporate world turned out to be useful on the bottom of life as well. She was slowly building her net of connection and gaining a reputation of the fixer who gets the job done. 

She followed rules and regularly visited Wakako Okada to pass her some ‘gifts’. Wakako sensed Rachel’s potential to become big one day, but she was a wise and reasonable woman, so instead of seeing a competitor in her, she saw an opportunity. She offered Rachel protection which she politely refused, and gained even more of Wako’s respect. Also one of Rachel’s gifts was really special: she used her connection inside Arasaka to track down the person who ordered the murder of Wakako’s grandson a long time ago, and passed her this info.

Around the same time Rachel met her future partner, Meredith Stout. Meredith was clear from the start that this was going to be a one-night stand, and Rachel was totally ok with it, but to her surprise, a week after Meredith called her again. They stuck to this format of their meetings in hotels that did not ask for their IDs, but with time Rachel became obsessed with the idea to make Meredith hers. Every attempt to get closer was met with the fight, but eventually Rachel crawled under Meredith’s armor too.

They didn’t become a happy healthy couple though: a constant power struggle and irresolvable contradictions were their companions along the way. Rachel wanted a full commitment from Meredith, who kept their connection a secret and was harassing her partner saying she’s wasting her potential on the fixer bullshit instead of looking for a decent career opportunity. 

Once they had a really nasty fight, Meredith accused Rachiel of having mommy issues (which was true) and insisting on full commitment only to impress her family. This was also true because after her downfall Rachel quickly realized that moving to the other end of the continent is not enough to escape her mother’s influence, and never told her family she was fired, crafting an image of perfect life in her social media.

So, Rach was really pissed and refused to message Meredith even after she disappeared for a week, but it turned out their fight had little to do with it. Wakako sent her protege a footage of Meredith being kidnapped. 

Rachel hired the best merc she could find, a former partner of her dead friend, who made herself quite a loud name during the last months. V (in Rach’s ‘home’ universe it was Kou, of course) was on the verge of dying at that point but she owed Rachel a service, so she helped. Together they rescued Meredith and found out that the kidnapping was set up by her new assistant.

When Rachel was visiting Meredith in the hospital she passed her this info, but to her surprise Meredith decided to promote her assistant seeing a potential in them, and made some comment about how Rachel’s fixer shit got surprisingly useful again. It made Rachel finally realize that their relationship are stuck in this endless cycle and lead to nowhere, so she broke up with Meredith right there in the hospital, and decided not to hear panic in her voice when she called Rachel in a couple of weeks, the morning both of them woken up incompletely new world with Saburo Arasaka walking on Earth again.

The new world still needed fixers, so life went on. Rachel was fighting nails and teeth for her place on the Night City’s stage, and eventually she attracted the attention of the fixer’s queen herself. She didn’t like this alliance between the Lady of Westbrook and the so-called fixer from Charter Hill, so she tried to start a quarrel between them. Luckily they managed to survive and united even more.

Rachel was pissed, she wanted to strike back, but Wakako talked her out: this wasn’t the right time. 

So, Rachel continued her biz. She eventually came out to her family, placing them in front of the fact that their kid is now a big figure in the city’s underworld, and if they had a problem with it she didn't give shit about it. She also came back to Meredith, but this time on new terms (I’m not joking about the terms, bitches had a whole ass dating contract which eventually became a marriage contract).

The tension between Afterlife and Westbrook was getting only worse, and it only needed a stone to start the avalanche. The stone came as a person of whom Rachel heard a lot but never met in person, but Wakako had ‘a pleasure to work with’. Goro Takemura came back to Night City in need of help, but by helping him the fixers helped themselves. They dug some dirt on Rogue and finally were ready to strike.

All this time Wakako was playing the humble old woman who has just enough money and power for her age, and ready to support a new figure to take her rightful place. Her act was so good that Rachel bought it, thinking she’s gonna be the next fixer queen of Night City. Alas it was not going to happen, during the stand Wako played her cards the way there was no such thing as a queen anymore, but a triangle of power between the biggest fixers of the city, bound by the compromising evidence, threats and services.

Rachel, of course, wasn’t happy with being outplayed, she couldn't do much to Wakako since she cared in advance about her safety. She might do something reckless but Meredith’s sarcasm cooled her head, so after some time Rachel and Wakako resumed their good relationship.

Life got fairly quiet for a while, but shortly after some notorious engramma in the new artificial body returned to Night City, Rachel was contacted by the most unexpected person. After some time required to built a mutual trust, she and Michiko Arasaka started to work on something they both called ‘the bird business’. It was a very long game that required a lot of small operations to be successfully completed and some major factor to appear on the stage, but the rogue AI ready to cooperate isn’t something you can order by delivery.

[The other events lead to THE BIG GIG but it’s something I’d rather talk about some other time. Also, Rachel eventually becomes Night City’s Mayor, because she deserved it. 

VOTE FOR VOGELMAN!]

[maudus1]

Two things: 1. Can you share some of the wips and fic ideas you’ve got squirreled away on your laptop with us? 🥺 2. I wish you loved your writing as much as I love your writing and self doubt or overthinking stuff didn’t hold you back from posting. You are so talented!! Don’t let your brain tell you otherwise!!!

Thank you sm 😭🥺

Sure, I can share some stuff! I have a doc I fling ideas into whenever they hit me, no matter how detailed or small or stupid. PWPs, crack, AUs, slow burns, fix-its, etc. They're usually little more than stream of consciousness rambling, and sometimes just a link, or song lyrics, a reddit thread, meme, or fanart - whatever inspired me in the moment and made me think, "I should revisit this later."

To give you an idea what the former looks like (though I'll be honest, this is tidier than most lol):

Psychologist/Client Modern AU

Premise: Obi-Wan realizes he’s becoming attracted to his beautiful young client and tries to refer him to another doctor. Little does he know, Anakin has been harboring a crush for years.

Anakin comes in one day for a session and Obi-Wan seems off somehow, nervous almost. It's unlike him. Immediately, Anakin is wary. Before he has a chance to say anything, Obi-Wan gets right to the point and tells him he's referring him to another doctor. Anakin demands to know why and he won't give him a straight answer, or at least not one Anakin believes. He's heartbroken, but the more Obi-Wan dodges his questions, the more frustrated he becomes. Obi-Wan opens the door and tells him he should probably go.

As Anakin is passing by, he gets a little too close, and that's when he notices it. A hitch in Obi-Wan's breath, dilated pupils. And he knows. There's no way he's letting it go now. So he tests his theory. Boxes Obi-Wan in. Obi-Wan is becoming increasingly agitated, holy shit he's actually stammering - that never happens - not to him, the man who's always so smooth and professional and careful with his words.

“If you're referring me,” Anakin says, leaning closer, “I guess I'm not your patient anymore then, am I?" 

Obi-Wan blinks, eyes falling briefly to Anakin’s lips. “No,” he breathes, “I suppose you aren't.”

Anakin grins. "Good.”

And then they kiss! Blah blah blah cue the hot desk sex.

Okay, the rest of this got pretty long so I'm dropping the WIPs under the cut.

First, there's Troubled Water. I have bits of multiple chapters written already but most of my focus is of course on chapter 4. Idk why but I've been struggling with it. 😅 It takes place on a different point in the timeline than originally intended (it was actually ch3 but what was supposed to be a flashback ended up turning into an entire scene of its own and thus the whole club disaster lol). It's, again, so long that it will probably end up split into two chapters but as of right now I'm kinda wingin' it.

And am I being entirely self-indulgent by using my own OCs (and some friends')? Yes.

I'm a writer, I can do anything.

Also I just thought it'd be cool to introduce a new species or two lol. The GFFA is vast okay, there's always room for more. Anyway, here's an excerpt:

“Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am Da’riel of Clan Sarel. You have already met my Captain. The big guy behind you is my personal bodyguard. Don’t mind him, he only looks terrifying.” His grin takes on a mischievous edge as Bull huffs what might be a grunt or a laugh and he gestures toward the room he just emerged from. “And last but certainly not least—”

Another Dua’vian materializes in the doorway as though summoned, leaning her shoulder against the architrave. Her hair catches Anakin’s attention first; red as Queen’s Heart blossoms, it cascades in thick waves around shoulders draped in the black silk of a shirt several times too large to be hers, its hem halting mid-thigh. Her legs are bare beneath it.

Cheeks flaming, Anakin turns his gaze resolutely away.

“—this absolute vision is Liv Viventoly. If Preia is my right hand, Liv is my left.”

“What does that mean,” Anakin blurts, and everyone looks at him. Though Obi-Wan never rolls his eyes, the expression on his face is about as close as he gets to it. It’s a very particular brand of fatigue and mild annoyance entirely unique to his master, translated via a blank stare and slightly raised brows. He doesn’t even have to hear the “Honestly, Anakin,” aloud to know that’s exactly what he’s thinking.

“It means”—Liv straightens, smirking—“that I work in the shadows.” Anakin flinches back as she saunters past him and slides smoothly onto one of the tall stools at the well-stocked bar.

Like that answers anything. Why is everyone so cryptic all the time?

“What’s important is that while you’re here, know that you can trust them as I do,” Dua’primia Sarel says.

Obi-Wan nods, though Anakin senses apprehension through their bond. “We appreciate your hospitality, Dua’primia. I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is—”

Anakin jolts forward. “Anakin Skywalker. We are at your service, my Lord.”

Sarel looks at his proffered hand with something like amusement and glides past Obi-Wan to clasp it with his. This close, he realizes the Dua’vian is an inch or two taller than himself—being somewhat tall for a human, it’s not an experience Anakin has often—and his eyes are a vibrant peridot green, accentuated by the black markings curving elegantly around the angles of his face that remind Anakin a bit of a Zabrak’s. A vicious scar bisects one eye from brow to cheek, long healed but still pink against his fair complexion, and Anakin spares a second to wonder if he got it during the war.

“Please,” he says, and is it just Anakin’s imagination, or did his voice lower in timbre? “Let us do away with such formalities. Call me Da’riel.” 

Anakin swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. “Oh—okay. Da’riel,” he repeats stiffly, hoping he isn’t completely butchering the pronunciation. By the way the man beams, he thinks he did alright. Da’riel releases his hand slowly, fingers grazing the sensitive skin of his inner wrist before Anakin withdraws it behind his poncho. He glances sidelong at Obi-Wan, but his master’s expression is as inscrutable as ever.

“Well then,” Da’riel declares with a brisk clap, making his way to the bar, “drinks?”

“Can we get down to business, please?” Preia says, rolling her eyes. 

“Such a spoilsport. Would it surprise you to know she isn’t always this uptight?” Chuckling, Da’riel uncaps a sapphire-blue crystal decanter and waves it beneath his nose. “Normally my dear Captain is the one pouring the liquor.”

“And I’ll drink you under the table like always once this threat is dealt with.”

“I shall hold you to that, my friend. And you, Jedi?”

“No,” Obi-Wan replies, a little too quick to be casual. “Thank you.” Anakin shoots him an inquisitive glance. 

“Ah.” Da’riel nods sagely. “So the rumors are true.”

“Da’riel—” Preia hisses.

“What?” Da’riel looks around at everyone, not contrite in the least. 

And his master was concerned that Anakin would be the one to say or do something culturally insensitive. He hides a quiet snicker behind his hand, pretending to rub his nose, and Obi-Wan gives him an unamused look before schooling his expression back to its artificial serenity. 

“Please excuse him,” Preia says, hip cocked, a finger rubbing against her temple. “He’s very—”

Liv butts in, “Reckless, blunt, uncouth?” 

Da’riel merely laughs, and Anakin can feel that it’s genuine. This is not at all the fearsome war General, leader of a revolution, and ruler of an entire planet that Anakin imagined. He seems close to these people, treats them more as equals and friends than subordinates or subjects, yet there’s still an aura about him that commands attention and respect as power or royalty would. 

Preia smirks. “Too honest for his own good.”

Whatever it is, Anakin doesn’t sense cruel intent coming from the Dua’primia, just honest curiosity. Despite the glare his master is drilling into the side of his head like he knows what Anakin is going to do, he can’t help asking, “What rumors?” 

“That you’re, er, monks,” Preia says, chuckling to mask embarrassment on behalf of her comrade and her own curiosity. 

“You know.” Liv sips at the drink Da’riel just poured her, not looking at them as she speaks, and Anakin leaks a pulse of unease into the Force. There’s something about her he simply can’t put his finger on. “No drinking, no fu—”

“Fun!” Preia hastily interjects, staring daggers at the other redhead. 

The corners of Anakin’s mouth twitch into a partial frown. They aren’t entirely wrong. He has his own… issues with the Order, with following rules that often either don’t make sense to him or directly conflict with his own ingrained beliefs. But it rankles for some reason, like he’s being judged, like they’re being judged. Mocked, even, though he doesn’t quite discern their meaning. Jedi are guardians of peace and justice within the galaxy. Maybe he doesn’t agree with the way the Order does things sometimes, but without them, without Anakin and Obi-Wan, the world would fall to disorder. To the dark side. People should be grateful—

“We are simply tired from our journey,” Obi-Wan interrupts his thoughts, sidling close enough that their shoulders graze, and Anakin exhales.

“My apologies, Jedi,” Da’riel says sincerely. “I am merely intrigued by your culture, as I’m sure you are of ours.” Obi-Wan bows his head in acceptance. “The hour is late. Preia?”

She hands Obi-Wan a datapad. “This contains an updated blueprint of the palace and map of the city, including the hidden exits and underground tunnels. I’ve marked the positions of my officers for each shift rotation as well as their schedules.”

Obi-Wan hums, stroking his beard as his eyes flit over the information on the screen. “And the evening of the festival?” 

“We’re tripling security, pulling from both the palace guard and local law enforcement.”

“How many of them know we’re here?” Anakin says.

There’s a knock at the door before she can answer, and Bull moves to open it, standing back to allow someone entry. It's a man Anakin recognizes. Tall and broad, with neatly-combed dark hair, deep-set brown eyes, and a kind yet serious face. His attire perfectly matches the regal demeanor flowing off him in waves, fine tailored robes of pewter-blue that swish around matching trousers as he walks. When his eyes land on Obi-Wan, a fond grin meets Obi-Wan’s public, Jedi-persona equivalent; a small, polite smile, though his eyes twinkle with equally affectionate mirth as Senator Bail Organa bends to his height to trade light kisses upon each cheek. 

Anakin knows from experience that it’s just a traditional Alderaanian greeting; it doesn’t mean anything. The Senator is a happily married man. And he’s pretty sure Obi-Wan hasn’t been involved with anyone in years, if ever. Whatever illicit affair he’d thought his master had with Vos was obviously just fueled by his own overactive imagination. He knows this because Obi-Wan never did meet the Kiffar before he shipped out for his next mission, and he hasn’t been alone with Vos since. Obi-Wan even stopped going to bars and clubs; stopped going out much at all, in fact, aside from diplomatic dinners and stuff they do on missions. Otherwise, he mostly stays with Anakin, and that’s exactly how Anakin likes it. 

None of that prevents the irritation boiling within his veins or the tormenting memory of a kiss that’s burrowed its way into his very soul, a kiss that should have never been, and the hollow, bitter pang that always follows in its wake.

Goosebumps prickling the flesh at his nape, he glances around and finds Da’riel leaning back lazily against the front of the bar on one elbow, sipping his drink and watching Anakin intently. Face flushing with heat, he plops into one of the plush chairs and out of the Dua’primia's view.

“Obi-Wan. As always, it is a pleasure to see you.”

“And you as well, Bail.”

“Now that everyone is here,” Preia says, “shall we get started?”

This is Da'riel btw:

"But there are no elves in Star Wars," one might say. Well guess what: there are now. 😌

Preia and Liv belong to @jacklyn-flynn & @charlatron respectively.

As for other WIPs; there's one I started before Troubled Water, though my focus was drawn to TW instead so it's been put on the backburner for now. The original idea was some kind of canon-divergent time-travel fix-it, but in the sense that Vaderkin's consciousness from the end of RoTJ returns to his body around the end of the Mortis arc in The Clone Wars. Can't say why that inspired me but it did lol, it felt like a pivotal moment (one of the shatterpoints I like to theorize about, change one thing and they're all altered via butterfly effect etc).

Like, what if he lived the future shown to him in that vision that the Father erased, and how would he react differently afterward, how would he talk to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka about what they went through on Mortis and the implications if he actually, finally understood and believed that he was indeed the Chosen One, how would they approach the Sith situation and the war from that point on... yeah I just have a lot of thoughts idk. I know that arc isn't a fan favorite but I personally loved the metaphor and the entire Prophetic Greek Tragedy vibe.

Excerpt:

“General Skywalker, come in.”

He feels… strange. Heavy yet impossibly lighter. Awareness presses down around him, suffocating, and a sharp pain lances through his skull as he draws the first shuddering breath in what feels simultaneously like mere minutes and several millennia. His mouth is dry, his throat sore, and his eyes burn as he slowly blinks into wakefulness. The crust of sleep clings to his long lashes, the salt-stained skin upon his cheeks pulling uncomfortably as he moves. He rubs them with a gloved hand and groans at the bright flashing lights of a console as they sharpen into focus. 

Wait—

He has a body. 

Moments ago he was formless and adrift, yet he is once again whole. And before that, he was… he was…

Kriff, he has hands. Hands he sees unfiltered, rather than through a tinted transparisteel visor protecting damaged retinas. And he’s breathing. Unassisted by a mechanical apparatus, by endless tubes and wires, no longer submerged under the ceaselessly distracting harsh rasp of a ventilator. Fingers flexing inches before his face, he blinks again, stunned. Not only does he have a body, but it’s his body. His limbs—well, with the exception of one. His gaze drifts slowly down to his long legs, toes curling experimentally in his boots. The sheer relief of it sends him reeling. 

Red light glints off his leather tabards and he looks up, expecting that any moment now, this will all prove another dream, a nightmare; a life free of that shell dangled temptingly before him only to be snatched away again. But the scene does not change. Dazed, he assesses his surroundings. A ship. He's on a ship? Familiar, Republic make. And there is a presence in the Force, a presence he has not felt in—

Hours. Years. An eternity.

Breath held, he turns. Only his head; as though any attempt to move this foreign yet thrillingly familiar youthful body will snap him out of this vision, send him back to that… that hell. And as he does, he sees him, a shining beacon of pure light, warm and bright and soothing. A man in beige robes, slumped in the co-pilot’s chair beside him, just beyond arm’s reach. Legs akimbo, elbows perched upon the armrests, hands dangling limply over his lap. His bearded chin is tucked to his chest which rises and falls in the slow, steady rhythm of unconsciousness. Auburn hair spills across his forehead, obscuring his eyes. But he would know this man anywhere.

Obi-Wan.

The desperate beat of his heart and rough, relieved exhale that escapes his lips seems thunderously loud in the otherwise silent cockpit. Fresh tears springing to his eyes, he attempts to stand—to go to him, to sweep Obi-Wan into his arms and feel his warmth, to surround himself with his scent and know for certain that he’s here, he's real, he’s alive—only to wobble and collapse back into the seat like a fawn testing new legs for the first time. 

How is this happening?

He feels himself, and not himself. As though he took a nap and awoke with another lifetime sliced into his brain, a vision he can't shake, an overwrite of his programming, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish between it and the reality he's presented with the more he struggles to process it—

A flicker of blue dances in his periphery, repeating a question, and it is only with great reluctance that he tears his eyes away from his former Master. The holo-projection of another man stands at attention in the center console, brow furrowed with worry. Fondness and guilt and confusion flood him with equal measure as he takes in his Captain’s, his friend’s, appearance. 

“General Skywalker, do you read me?”

Skywalker.

The voice of the last person to call him by that name, in that other life, echoes in his mind. It is the name of your true self, you have only forgotten. The son he tried to kill, to corrupt, to save. The son who saved him, and in the end, returned him to the light. Luke.

Clearing his parched throat, he responds, “I—we read you, Rex,” and marvels at the sound of his own voice, so crisp and clear and young, without the distortion of that burdensome helmet. “You—you’re a sight for sore eyes. Can you hear me?”

Fabric rustles behind him and he instinctively reaches for the lightsaber at his hip before the sleepy, curious brush of another Force signature meets his own. Gasping, he whips around in the flight chair.

“Ahsoka!”

She winces, rubbing her tired eyes. “Not so loud, Skyguy,” she says on the back end of a yawn, glancing around the cockpit. “What happened? We were—-mmphh!” Her surprised grunt is muffled against his shoulder as he all but falls out of his seat to the floor at her feet and drags her into his arms, then his lap, cradling her like a child. 

Face buried in her soft lekku, he squeezes her close to his chest, body wracked with silent sobs. All he’d wanted was to protect Ahsoka. To mentor her, as his master before him, and give her the tools she needed to protect herself and innocents across the galaxy. Brilliant, kind, stubborn and strong, and so, so wise beyond her time, she became one of the most talented Jedi he had ever met. Though they’d gotten off to a rocky start, she made him proud, made him feel honored to be her master. Watching her leave the Order tore his heart in two. Watching her leave him destroyed him. Already he’d been questioning the Council, questioning the Order as a whole and their damn inflexible code. But more than that, he questioned himself. He’d failed as her master, failed as a Jedi. 

The memories haunt him. For months he examined the shatterpoints of their lives together, in hindsight—every lesson taught, every battle fought, wondering where he went wrong, what he could have done differently, how he could have fixed things, helped her, kept her close—spiraling down, down into the depths of his own torment and self-loathing. Without Ahsoka, Obi-Wan had been his only remaining tether to the Jedi. To the light. A tether broken, in the end, by his selfishness. By jealousy and hatred and greed, by the fear of abandonment, loss, and… deep, shameful, unrequited feelings. 

But here she is, right here in the secure circle of his arms. His beloved young padawan, the girl he’s come to cherish like a friend, a sister, who he’d met lightsaber for lightsaber in that dark future but even then, corrupted as he was, could not bring himself to kill because he loved her so. Loves her still.

“Master?” Ahsoka murmurs, hands hanging limp at her sides for several seconds before hesitantly returning his embrace with equal strength. Too often preoccupied with and separated by the war, the opportunities to shown her such open affection were far and few between, usually coming after particularly difficult missions, brief brushes with death, and how kriffed up is that? Filled with regret, he promises himself here and now that will change. 

“Are you…” Trailing off, she reaches up to slowly pet his hair and he releases a quiet sigh, finally pulling back to look at her. Her eyes are wide and worried and so very, terrifically, blue. “Master, what’s wrong?”

Letting out a soft chuckle, he shakes his head. “Nothing, Snips.” The old nickname rolls off his tongue without even thinking and his heart clenches, this time with both pain and joy. “Nothing at all. Everything is perfect.”

There’s a crackle of static behind them, then, “Ah, General Kenobi. It’s good to see you, sir. Are you three alright? General Skywalker seems—”

He lifts his gaze to the co-pilot’s chair. Obi-Wan is awake and perched upright in front of the holo, staring silently at them with a frown so achingly familiar a tangled web of affection, longing, pain, betrayal swells within his chest. It hurts, it hurts so much to look at Obi-Wan like this, yet now that those eyes are open and trained so intently on him, he can’t tear his own away. And Obi-Wan’s just as beautiful as ever, just as heart-wrenchingly perfect and good. 

Too late, he remembers that their bond, while not as strong as it had once been, remains. Unlike most master and padawan pairs after the apprentice reaches knighthood, neither he nor Obi-Wan could bring themselves to sever it. They were at war, their connection was vital. It made them a better team. Until— 

His mental shields slam into place but not before Obi-Wan arches a single brow, lips parting as if to repeat Rex’s inquiry. 

“I’m fine,” he rushes to cut Obi-Wan off, “we’re all fine. Just, uh—where are you?” 

He can only beg the Force that his former master and current padawan did not feel too much, did not see the torment buried within him. By the way they appear to be communicating with one another like whispers behind closed doors, however, he’s sure they will have questions. Questions he doesn’t know how to answer. Letting go of Ahsoka, he clambers to his feet, limbs still trembling, and drops heavily back into the pilot’s chair.

“Standing by, sir. We were worried. You were,” Rex hesitates, “off the scopes there for a moment.”

Memories hit him in a rush. Chaotic, lacking order. He's in a dark room with his dead mother whispering poison in his ear. On a balcony overlooking a pristine lake, flowers scenting the air, one hand rising to touch soft skin. In a junkyard, fingers covered in mech oil, the ever-present grit of sand between his molars. At an opera listening to the viper beside him spit lies, lies, lies. The sky above shifts rapidly from day to night, and he's lost in a spinning whirlpool of stars and the obscene rush of power he feels as he brings gods to their knees. Then he's watching the silhouette of a robed man against the backdrop of sunset thinking look at me, look at me, please look at me, I need you—

Sifting through them is a struggle. Everything blurs together, and he can't control what comes or when, skull throbbing from the effort. His thoughts, his feelings, are an amalgamation of eras he can't quite reconcile; the slave boy, the padawan learner, the Jedi Knight, the General, the Sith Lord. It's too much, it's too much and he doesn't know who or what he is anymore and the panic is rising— 

A comforting hand settles upon his shoulder and he opens his eyes. Ahsoka.

“A moment?” Obi-Wan says, still staring at him. He shifts in his seat, uncomfortable under that all-too perceptive gaze. At length, his master turns to the holo. “We’ve been gone far longer than a moment.”

Rex’s eyes flit between them. “Sir, I don’t understand. You’ll need to explain.”

Ahsoka snorts. “You wouldn’t believe us if we told you.”

Still have a lot of mental fleshing out to do before it goes anywhere but there ya have it.

May the Force be with you, always!

As for the first part of your comment, really, thank you. It's not that I don't love my writing so much as the process can be difficult at times. 😅 I'm a perfectionist, and not by choice so much as my brain simply won't let things go until they feel right. Even after publishing something I have a very bad habit of going back in and editing it a dozen more times. It's very annoying! 😂

Sometimes that single-minded focus gets me stuck in a huge rut because I'm too zoned in on trivialities to navigate back to the big picture. Basically writer's block is the worst feeling ever and sometimes I get down about not being as productive as I should be. But I do love writing, and making people happy with my work gives me a lot of joy and motivation to keep at it. Well, I should probably get back to work on TW but I hope you enjoyed the excerpts! All your kind words made me smile and I'm gonna try to carry that positivity with me. 🥰

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 3.2k WARNINGS: ANGST, VIOLENCE, GUNS

a/n: we are nearing the end guys :( and i promise, it’s a HAPPY ENDING! but for now we have to face the angst, i’m so sorry. disclaimer!! as i have said from the previous parts, i am not well-versed with investigations and court procedures. PLEASE CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG. thank you very much!! please enjoy this new part and hit my ask box with what you think of it <3

nine: grief | masterlist

Wonwoo has had difficult times in his life and he has managed to overcome them all. Growing up in the public eye, fulfilling duties decreed to him even before he became a teen, a break-up, excelling both academically and physically and most of all, loving himself for who he is. He knows his parents did everything in their power and love to make it a little easier for him. They are the reasons he kept going and going. 

But his heart can’t seem to carry this overwhelming heaviness. 

His parents wanted to end the engagement immediately. It was an argument, an angry one. His mother had her ears closed even before he could speak meanwhile his father’s closed lips already said it all. Of course, he was defensive. He understands his parents concern for their citizens, but nothing is final until a verdict is reached. He has to come back to Jung and Sam and he has to come back to you. Surely enough, when he stepped out of the doors of his home, he had chosen love over duty. 

It’s just that he didn’t know that you had different plans. 

“Where’s the pretty lady?” Sam asks out of the blue while he plays with the new toys Wonwoo brought for the kids at the welfare.

He has been visiting them frequently, at least four times a week in between his hospital schedule. Especially after you decided that he should distance himself from you, he has been in and out of here because the boys are one of the only reasons he’s here other than you. He’s hoping you only meant a break if that’s what you wanted. Because he’d give it to you with as much distance as you want just come back to him. Come back to him because he doesn’t and can’t let you go. 

“She’s a bit busy now,” he tries to make up an excuse and Sam raises his sparkling eyes at his face, probably searching for some truth in his lie. 

“You look different when she’s around,” the young boy says and goes back to his toys. 

Wonwoo’s ears perk and his brows knit in question. “What do you mean?”

“Jung thinks I don’t see it, but his face,” Sam explains and gestures to his tiny yet swelling cheeks. “It changes because of this girl here that I think he’s crushing.”

Wonwoo can’t help the growing smile on his face. “Jung has a crush?”

“Yes.” Sam bobs his head cutely. “You’re just like Jung with the pretty lady around.”

“How about now?” He asks the observant boy who purses his tiny lips before narrowing his eyes at him. 

“You look a little sad.”

Wonwoo didn’t need to ask who’s the pretty lady Sam was talking about because to him, you’re the only pretty lady in his life (second to his mother of course even though she’s angry at him at the moment). He tried to not make it obvious. He doesn’t want anyone to see him that the controversy and your father’s arrest is breaking the two of you apart. He can’t let them see him falling apart for that matter because he wants you to see him confident and strong. 

He doesn’t want to further fuel your doubts and fears. If he can’t support you closely, he’ll do his best to support you even from afar.

That’s why life for him continued. He goes to work, attends to his patients and co-workers needs, he eats, he exercises and he even entertains drinking with Soonyoung despite having to take care of him because of how fast he gets drunk. 

It’s an ineffective distraction because he misses you terribly. He misses going to your office just to take you away from your computer, he misses driving around town with you in the passenger seat and listening to your stories, he misses sleeping over at your apartment after a tiring day shift, he misses your warm and welcoming embrace, he misses your shy and soft kisses against his lips, cheeks, nose, forehead, neck and everywhere else.  

Did he tell you he misses you?

He sends you messages every day. He doesn’t call and he doesn’t wait for a reply. He just wants you to know that he’s here whenever you’re ready. Jeongyeon is kind enough to keep him in the loop, but the updates are very minimal because she’s still your subject and she doesn’t want to hurt you any further. 

For a moment, Wonwoo was afraid to take the leap. But when you asked him if he still wants to marry you which could be equivalent to you ending things, he had to. If you stay or not, he had to say it with all his heart. You had to know because he was sure that whatever it is his whole being is feeling, it’s only for you. 

“I love you.”

Your heart drops at his confession, making you sob to the palm of your hands. He can’t do this to you right now. It’s already hard and painful. You want to be selfish, but it would be wrong to let him suffer with you when he has been nothing but kind and honest. 

“You’re not your father, Y/N,” he promises and holds your hands down. “Please look at me.”

You shake your head, sniffling. You want to scream you love him too. But the words are nothing but a lump at the back of your throat. You continue shedding your tears and the sight breaks Wonwoo’s heart. 

“It’s okay.” He lifts your head up by your cheeks. He wipes your tears away even though it’s futile. He wishes to share with your anguish, but he also respects the desires of your heart. 

His smile was small when he leans down and briefly presses a kiss to your trembling lips. You accept it, fearing it might be the last. You also listen to his last words before he leaves with his bag and coat because it also might be the last time you’ll ever hear them.

“I love you.”

The rain patters on the roof of the car when Wonwoo’s words echoed inside your head. Just the thought of what had transpired the last few days brings tears to your eyes. You haven’t seen him since that night and the longing is unbearable. You wish to hear his voice, feel his touch against you or just see him. But you can’t and you have to persevere through it because you owe justice and accountability to your people.   

You haven’t spoken to your mother even if you tried. She’s just tired, so tired you can’t bring a word out of her. You try to be understanding and a little more patient. After all, getting over a betrayal doesn’t happen overnight. That’s why you continued working even though almost every client you have has backed down and declined your services. Nonetheless, you still go to your office every day as if everything is okay. You drink your coffee, you run over your files and even do a little organizing and disposing here and there. 

Your father’s first trial is today and you’re on your way to speak to him at his detention center. This is the first time you’ll see him aside from the television and newspapers. You’ve been crying ever since he got taken away. You can’t help it. You already know the truth and there’s no blinding away from it. But you want to hear from your father, whom you thought you have known all your life. You want his truth and maybe find some closure. 

When you arrive at the parking lot, the rain has ceased and little by little the temperature is rising again. You really wish things were different. Something in you wishes that this is a set-up. You wish that your father was innocent and only being framed. But there is a bigger something that’s telling you to throw away those wishful thoughts because it’s wrong. 

You ask yourself, am I angry at my father? while walking to the entrance leading to the visitor’s area. I should be, right? You argue because your family name and career is tarnished. Your upcoming marriage is no different which is most likely to be over. 

“Hi my darling,” The King, stripped from his expensive suit, greets you with his usual smile.

The glass between you and your father is clear enough to see that he doesn’t look good. Your father used to look every day ready with his suit on and slick back hair. But right now, he doesn’t. Tears well up in your eyes but you hold it in. It will take a long time to get used to seeing him like this. It will take a painfully long one.

Maybe you’re not angry. Maybe you’re just hurting.

“Hi dad,” you greet back. “How are you?”

The old man smiles and warms his thighs with his hands while looking around the small room. “I’m okay.”

You nod and the cold silence engulfs the room. 

“I’m sorry darling,” he finally says and hearing those words made you burst into tears. He sees you crying and this is the first time he can’t reach his hand out to wipe the tears away. “I’m really sorry that your father’s greed has left you and your mother a wound that might never heal.”

Greed. The news, the Royal Police, the prosecution and everyone else were talking about this. They’re still talking about this. It’s scandalous, it’s controversial. It’s unbelievable too. How could the head and protector of the kingdom do this? 

How could your father do this?

“Dad,” you sob. “Dad.”

“I know,” he tells you. “I know.”

“Please tell me they’re lying,” you begged, your voice shaking.

“I cannot betray you any further, my darling,” he sadly says. “I have to set you all free from my lies.”

You harshly rub your fingers against your eyes, trying to dry the tears that won’t stop from falling. “Who’s Kim Mingyu?”

The alarming buzz! blasts, indicating that your time’s up. You’re quick to your feet and hold your sweating palm against the glass. Your father mirrors your action but it didn’t last long because he was being handcuffed again. 

“Remember,” he says, struggling a little against the two uniformed men. “You are your own person, my darling.” 

Maybe you’re not hurting. Maybe you’re grieving because you just lost your father. 

You know who Kim Mingyu is. You already knew before you could even ask your father. You just wanted to know how your father met him and entangled himself with such a man. What led him to fall for his lies and money that he could trade every ounce of dignity and integrity in his being? Something of that sort. 

Kim Mingyu’s mining business was proposed to the Secretary of the Trade and Industry Department. A mining business that will have children go underground for long agonizing hours. At first, they were immediately rejected knowing that there’s an obvious and strict law disallowing foreigners to the kingdom’s mineral resources. Much more the exploitation of young children. But, Mingyu was ambitious and a sniper to every man's weakness. It didn’t take long for the Secretary of the Trade and Industry to bite. It was easily followed by the Secretary of the Justice Department and your father. They all, among many others, eventually fell for his trap. Everything worked out for Kim Mingyu. 

Your hip is against the hood of the car as you watched the prison guards surround the vehicle your father will ride to the court. Everyone is on high alert. Well, they should be. No one else is more high profile than a criminal king. It’s only the first trial but you’re already more than aware of how things will turn out in the end. 

You clutch the lifebuoy pendant of the necklace you’re wearing, nervous and trying to keep everything together.

You could leave now, but the time and opportunity to see your father is running out. This prison is the only place you could linger just to see him, even for a short while. You won’t be able to follow him at court because Seungkwan advised you not to. Which you understand. This whole case involving your father is already causing a media frenzy so staying away is the smart thing to do. 

As you wait, your phone suddenly rings with an unknown number flashed on the screen. You blink, wondering who could it be at this hour. After a beat of hesitation, you answered and held the phone against your ear. 

“Hello?”

“Ah, Princess Y/N. How’s the King doing?”

You’re not that forgetful to not recognize this voice. “Mr. Kim, how did you get my number?”

“That’s not important right now,” he dodges the question. “What’s important is what I am about to tell you.”

“What do you want from me?” You say with gritted teeth and from your peripheral you can see the guards scramble. Your father is about to come out.

You can hear him scoff. “I don’t want anything from you, Your Highness. But listen…”

Your heart starts to beat faster. It’s a hard visual but your father is nearing the exit. Your bottom lip is starting to hurt from how hard you’re biting it and the few seconds of pause and suspense that Mingyu’s giving you is not helping at all. 

“Listen you sick---” He cuts you off and your blood runs cold.

“I’m going to kill your father.”

What is the fondest memory that you have of your father? 

They’re too many to count and every memory with him, small and big, will always mean everything to you. But as an example, it would be the day you finally took oath as a lawyer. He didn’t tell you, but he, together with your mother, was secretly present at the venue. He told you beforehand that they shouldn’t go because he didn’t want the people to make you uncomfortable and steal the spotlight. You ignored his lame excuse of fame and told him that he can do whatever he wants. 

But he was really there. Tears brimming on his eyes together with pride beaming on his heart. Your mother had to calm him down because he got a little out of control, almost screaming with all his chest at the venue that you’re his daughter. 

You only found out when you hopped on the car and they’re inside with a small cake, flowers and party hats on, shouting loud congratulations and surprise simultaneously. 

Your father was always there. Your parents were. 

You remember those when you ran and pushed your way against the guards blocking your father’s view. You were frantic as you screamed at them to get your father back inside. You fought with all your strength and thrashed against their hold just to reach your father. When you slipped away from them, you ran again, fast. 

You did your best to not get caught. You just have to be close to your dad and push him back inside. You just have to be close to him. You just have to protect him.

You have to be there for him. 

“Please stop!” You shout when another guard takes hold of your waist, locking you to the ground. “You have to bring my father back inside!”

“You’re Highness, please calm down!” The guard shouts back and you fight against him. When he didn’t let you go, you stomped the heel of your shoe on his feet, making him fall in pain. 

“Dad!” You call when you’re finally nearing him. His head lifts up at the sound of your voice and searches for you among the sea of men. “Please! You have to take him back inside! I received a call from Kim Ming---”

BANG!

BANG! 

It was searingly fast. Your whole body collapses on the sweltering concrete before you could reach your father and when his eyes finally find you, you are already swimming in the pool of your blood.  

“It’s always good to see you Mrs. Wang,” Wonwoo compliments the old lady who’s starting to frequent the emergency room. “But not in this manner.”

The old lady gives him a cheeky grin and pinches one of his cheeks. If Wonwoo doesn’t know any better, she’s doing this to not get scolded any further. 

“Your blood sugar is high and I don’t think your granddaughter appreciates her grandma endangering her own life,” he lightly scolds her, if that’s how he can put it. He’s still a doctor after all. “She loves you and she wants you to be healthy when she walks down the aisle in the future.”

Mrs. Wang gives him a silent nod at the mention of her granddaughter, promising that she won’t disobey anymore. That relieves Wonwoo, his lips lifting in a smile. He signs her clearance and hands it back to the nurse. After a few more instructions, he takes his leave and walks back to the information desk. 

He takes one of the patients charts to read. The phone rings and the nurse in charge immediately picks it up and answers. At first, Wonwoo didn’t bother looking up from the paper because emergency calls happen every three seconds. But when there was an eerie silence amidst the loud and busy room, his curiosity made his head tilt up only to get surprised at the widened eyes the nurse was giving him. 

He was about to ask what’s wrong but when he heard the sound of the siren nearing, he ignores his suspicions and runs to the entrance. 

The ambulance parks at a safe distance and the paramedics get out. They move quickly to get the patient out and when they see him, their mouth falls open but no words come out.

Wonwoo didn’t notice so he proceeded to ask, “How’s the patient?”

“Wonwoo!”

Soonyoung almost tripped on his feet as he tried to get a hold of his friend. He takes his arms and tries to pull him away from the ambulance he’s about to open. Wonwoo is starting to get irritated at the bizarre and disconcerting feeling that’s starting to settle in the emergency room.

Wonwoo knocks him off with a glare. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Wonwoo, please,” Soonyoung begs with an unsteady voice, clinging to his friend. 

“Female, late twenties, two gunshot wounds,” one of the paramedics finally yet carefully reports while the other opens the doors of the ambulance. “It’s Her Highness, Princess Y/N.”

Wonwoo roughly removes his friends hand from his arm to step closer to the ambulance and when he sees your lifeless body, he didn’t waste any more time and helped the paramedics move the stretcher out. Soonyoung can see his friend’s hands shaking as he takes hold of the bloodied gurney. He knows he has to stop him right now. 

“Baby,” Wonwoo calls as he runs and wheels you inside. You can’t hear him, but he has to try. He observes proper protocol of transferring you to the bed of the emergency room before applying more pressure to your wounds. You have lost a lot of blood already and it’s not helping Wonwoo that he can’t see your eyes.

“Please, please, please,” Wonwoo whispers as he removes all the obstructions on your body and when his eyes catch the necklace he gave around your neck, his legs grow weak and removing it from you made his tears fall.

“Baby, please,” he pleads. “Open your eyes, hmm?”

Soonyoung steps in together with the doctor who will perform the surgery and take everything from here. He slowly pulls his friend away from your body. Wonwoo didn’t protest anymore, there’s nothing in him left to do so. Your blood is in his hands, in his white coat, it’s everywhere. 

This is not the distance Wonwoo wanted. 

He can’t be apart from you forever.