#sorry anon if this isn't very good I wanted to reply to this ask before I forgot what I was going to say

[meownotgood]

sorry but there’s something *really* hot about the idea of Aki covering your mouth with his hand while taking you from behind

"we have to be quiet."

aki's voice is a deep and murmured hum in your ear, tapering off into a hiss as he grips your hip tightly and slides inside you. his shoulders go slack, his eyelids flutter. he leans his body over yours, wrapping an arm around your stomach to keep you up. he's supposed to be better than this, normally he would be. but he's waited so long for you, and he isn't about to wait any longer. he's missed you way too much.

it doesn't quite matter to him that the only thing giving the two of you the tiniest amount of privacy is the thin, shut door to his bedroom. he can hear his coworkers talking in the living room, he takes shallow breaths and hopes to god they can't hear when his pelvis goes flush with your ass, every desperate rut of his hard cock into you echoing heavy and wet. he prays that no-one at the house party will notice how the two of you have disappeared, slipping away to aki's bedroom to fuck because you couldn't wait for everyone to finally leave.

"aki, I-" you cut yourself off with a whine, aki pressing into you so deeply that your whole body tenses, your hands fisting his navy blue sheets and your eyes screwing shut tight. it's taking everything in you not to cry out his name. he feels so good and so thick and you can't help but moan between every gasp for breath. "I can't."

you're still too loud. you're loud and only getting louder, which is a shame because aki really needs to fuck you harder. he sighs, he leans in close, mutters a soft shhh to you, his breath hot on your nape. when you aren't getting the idea, he reaches around and his palm comes to press gently over your mouth, muffling your noise.

you just need to keep it down for a little while longer. soon, everyone will leave, and aki can make up for this, for having to shut you up with his hand, for having to struggle to keep himself silent by biting down hard on his bottom lip. when it's just the two of you, he won't have to keep you quiet like this. he'll have you screaming for him until your throat's gone sore.

[heartsbyani]

a song , that sounds like you

[ 한 ] ✷ ‎. . sleepover with your best friend, just like before. except that . . it isn't ?

۫ 𖨂 𓈒 𝑏sf!han ₊ ‎ ‎ 𝑓em!reader ˙ . ꒷ g. fluff , humour , crack , best friends to lovers , uni au , skz ensemble . 71OOw. ⎯⎯⎯ LiBRARY ⟢ cw. kisses , jokes , intimacy . ┆ 💌 ⋮ requested drabble .ᐟ ֹ ₊

yani's note 𑁍ࠬܓ THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ~I.5K WORDS. yani, dont over-write and turn every simple thing into a longfic challenge: go-> status: failed. THATS WHY I TOOK SO LONG. but anyways.... i read this like a gazillion times and im very slightly unhappy about it????? idk. but i got sick of it at some point so i didnt rly proofread for the final time. soooo finally another jisung fic lol >< posted way too much abt seungmo.. not that im complaining hehe. tribute to my beloved permed-jisung and pre-shaved jisung🙏 you're missed plenty. enjoy reading, thanks to anon for the req. <3 comments, likes, req./asks and reblogs are always appreciated !! send in a reply or an ask if you want to be in my mastertag, or my individual series' taglists. happy reading, love <3

the night felt like any other. it was nothing new. nothing unusual.

jisung had crashed at y/n’s dorm more times than he could count, so many that they’d stopped calling it a "sleepover" years ago. it was just… what they did.

tonight was no different—except maybe it was.

jisung flopped onto her bed dramatically, limbs splayed out like a starfish. "i'm dying."

y/n, arms crossed, raised an unimpressed brow. "you literally just walked in."

"my point." he turned his head toward her, grinning wide, dimples pressing into his cheeks. "the walk from my dorm to yours? brutal. my legs almost gave up. i nearly saw the light. i need some support here,"

"what you need is exercise, ji," she laughed, already walking past him toward the kitchen. "come on lazy ass, we’re cooking."

jisung groaned, rolling onto his stomach. "cooking? can’t we order food? delivery is, like, the peak of human civilization."

"you mean the peak of your laziness."

"same thing."

"you’re cooking today."

jisung immediately sat up. "i’m sorry, what?"

"you heard me."

"y/n, have you ever seen me successfully make anything that isn’t watered-down instant ramen or burnt eggs?"

"exactly why you need to learn." she shot him a knowing smile, opening the fridge. "come on, chef-nim, apron up."

jisung scoffed. "you act like i own an apron."

"you act like i don't have a spare." she tossed a black apron his way. he caught it with a dramatic sigh, slipping it over his tee. "this is humiliating."

y/n simply tied her own apron around her waist, moving swiftly around the kitchen. jisung, however, stood in the middle of it like he was lost in a foreign land.

"so," he said, rocking on his heels, "what are we making, masterchef?"

"some fried rice, with stir-fry for the sides."

"sounds safe enough. do i get a knife?" his eyes lightened up.

y/n turned to him, eyes full of doubt, hands on her hips. "do i look like i trust you with a knife?"

he clutched his chest. "ouch."

"jisung, the last time you touched a knife, you almost lost a finger."

"it was one time!"

"one time too many." she handed him a bowl instead. "crack the eggs."

"i can do that," he said confidently.

y/n watched as he picked up an egg, tapped it on the edge of the bowl—nothing. he hit it again. still intact.

"jisung."

"hold on, it's just being stubborn."

"you're literally supposed to—"

before she could finish, he smacked the egg with full force. it exploded in his hand, yolk dripping between his fingers. he blinked.

"…okay. that was aggressive."

y/n burst out laughing. "oh, good lord.."

"why are you laughing?! this is tragic!" he held up his hand dramatically, as if he'd just lost a battle.

she wiped away tears of laughter. "you’re such a disaster."

"and yet you still keep me around."

"i really question why, sometimes."

jisung wiggled his eyebrows. "because you love me."

"debatable."

"wow. you wound me."

she handed him another egg. "try again, but gently this time."

he pouted but followed her instructions. on the second try, he succeeded. barely. a little bit of shell fell into the bowl, but he picked it out quickly, flashing her a victorious grin.

"see? improvement."

y/n shook her head with a fond smile. "barely."

as she moved on to frying the rice, jisung leaned against the counter, watching her. the warm glow of the kitchen lights softened her features, and the way she effortlessly moved around—it was second nature to her.

"you're so good at this," he murmured absentmindedly.

she glanced up. "at what?"

"everything," he said simply.

her movements stilled for a second before she rolled her eyes, turning back to the pan. "corny."

"honest."

she pushed his forehead lightly with her fingers. "shut up and hand me the soy sauce."

jisung grinned, grabbing the bottle and sliding it over the counter toward her. "see? i am useful."

"debatable."

jisung gasped. "you really enjoy hurting me, huh?"

y/n only smiled as she stirred the rice.

they fell into a comfortable silence after that—jisung humming some random tune, y/n focusing on the food. it was normal. routine. nothing new.

except maybe it was.

because jisung found himself staring at her a little longer than usual.

and yn, for some reason, felt a little warmer than the stove’s heat should allow.

the aroma of warm rice, sizzling kimchi, and soy sauce had filled the small dorm, wrapping them in the kind of comfort that only home-cooked food could bring. y/n hummed softly as she scooped the steaming fried rice onto two plates, making sure to add an extra spoonful to her best friend's because she already knew he’d ask.

jisung, sprawled out on the floor like he had no bones in his body, watched her with a lazy grin. "you really know how to treat a man."

"you’re more of a babygirl, but okay," she replied without missing a beat, setting the plates down on the small coffee table in front of them.

"excuse me? i am very much a grown adult."

"sure," she snorted. "a grown adult who can't crack an egg."

jisung gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "low blow."

yn only grinned as she grabbed the remote, flipping on the tv. they didn't even bother picking something to watch—just let some random show play in the background while she scrolled through a playlist on her phone.

and just like that, the room filled with their favorite songs.

the playlist hummed in the background, weaving through the warm, dimly lit dorm like a familiar embrace. soft indie melodies blended into old tracks from their high school days, each song a quiet echo of late-night car rides and whispered confessions. nestled between them were jisung’s own songs—songs he had written on restless nights, songs y/n had begged him to release, songs he pretended not to care about being in the playlist but secretly loved seeing there.

the air smelled of soy sauce and garlic. jisung sat cross-legged on the couch, his loose shirt and plaid pajama pants slightly wrinkled. his fluffy brown hair that he'd recently gotten permed, much to y/n's pleading, was tousled, curls falling over his forehead, casting soft shadows over his sleepy eyes. he scooped up a bite of fried rice, humming in approval as he chewed, blissfully unaware of the way y/n was watching him.

she sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, chin resting lazily against them, gaze fixed on him with a softness even she didn’t notice. he looked so at home, so effortlessly him, sitting there with his cheeks puffed out from the food she made, eyes drooping slightly from exhaustion. a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

he always ate with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn’t had a proper meal in days, shoveling food into his mouth like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“you’re staring,” his voice came, teasing yet laced with fondness.

y/n blinked, heat creeping up her neck as she quickly looked away. “i am not.”

jisung grinned, swallowing another bite. “liar.”

but he didn’t press further. he only smirked to himself, going back to his food, pretending he didn’t notice the way she studied him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

what he wouldn’t admit—what he barely admitted to himself—was that he did the same thing.

when y/n wasn’t paying attention, lost in the flickering candlelight of their tiny dorm, jisung found himself staring. he always did. the glow of the fairy lights made her skin look softer, her features delicate and warm. her hair, slightly messy from their earlier chaos in the kitchen, framed her face in a way that made his heart ache.

she was wearing her pyjama set, and the sleeves were bunched up around her fists as she absentmindedly traced circles against the couch cushion, after a bite herself.

she was beautiful. in the quiet, in the soft spaces between their banter, in the way she existed in his world so effortlessly.

“now,” she called out suddenly, breaking him from his trance. “you’re staring.”

his breath caught in his throat, but he recovered quickly, flashing his usual cheeky grin. “i am not.”

“liar.”

their laughter mingled with the music, and for a moment, the weight of their hidden feelings melted into the warmth of the night.

jisung exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he shoved another spoonful of rice into his mouth. he chewed slowly, eyes flickering between the half-empty plate and y/n, her expression unreadable except for the teasing glint in her gaze. his own voice filtered through the small dorm, warm and unfiltered, singing lyrics he once scribbled down at 2 a.m., never expecting them to be heard by anyone but himself.

he swallowed, running his tongue over his bottom lip before muttering, “you do this on purpose.”

y/n tilted her head, feigning confusion as she picked at her food. “do what?”

“this.” he gestured vaguely toward the speaker, his voice quieter now, almost sheepish. “make me listen to myself.”

she shrugged, stuffing another bite of rice into her mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world. “your music is good.”

jisung let out a small, breathy laugh, but there was something uncertain in the way his fingers tapped against the bowl. “you don’t have to lie to make me feel better, you know.”

y/n blinked, chopsticks pausing midair. “i’m not lying.”

“you say that.” he glanced at her, then away, focusing on a loose thread on his pajama pants. “but you’re my best friend. you’d tell me it’s good even if it wasn’t.”

she frowned, setting her chopsticks down with a soft clink against the ceramic. “sung..”

he didn’t respond, just stuffed another bite into his mouth, chewing like he was trying to make himself busy. y/n sighed, shifting so she could look at him properly. the glow of the fairy lights cast gentle shadows on his face, highlighting the quiet vulnerability in his eyes—the kind he tried so hard to hide.

“look,” she started, voice softer now. “i don’t put your songs in our playlists just because you’re my best friend. i put them there because they belong there.”

jisung stilled, fingers tightening around his spoon.

“you write music that makes people feel something. i know because i feel it. i always have.” she toyed with the hem of her top. “and maybe it’s because i’ve seen you go through every stage of it. the late nights, the self-doubt, the way you talk about music like it’s the only thing that makes sense in your life sometimes.”

he swallowed thickly, staring at his plate like it held answers.

“i don’t just like your music, jisung. i believe in it. i believe in you.”

silence settled between them, thick and heavy, but not uncomfortable. jisung’s throat bobbed as he licked his lips, finally daring to meet her gaze.

something unreadable flickered in his eyes, something fragile and hesitant and real.

“…you always say things like that.” his voice was quiet, uncertain. “and i never know what to do with it.”

y/n smiled, small and knowing. “you don’t have to do anything. just don’t forget it.”

he stared at her for a moment longer, chest tightening with something he didn’t quite have the courage to name. then, exhaling softly, he looked away, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“i won’t.”

they ate comfortably, stealing bites from each other's plates despite having the exact same food. it was normal, the way their chopsticks clinked against each other in midair, the way jisung would groan dramatically after every bite, acting as if he’d just tasted the best thing in the world.

"marry me," he said, mouth full.

y/n gave him a look. "chew first."

he swallowed, grinning. "okay, now will you marry me?"

"no."

jisung clutched his chest. "you are cruel, woman."

"you are an idiot, man."

"a lovable idiot," he corrected, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

she rolled her eyes but didn't deny it.

a beat of silence passed between them, the kind that wasn't awkward but rather filled with something unspoken. jisung glanced at her between bites, again, watching the way the light from the tv flickered against her skin.

she looked… soft. comfortable. the same as always, but maybe not quite.

"so," y/n spoke suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. "how was your day?"

jisung blinked, needing a second to process the question. they spent most of their time together, but during classes, they went their separate ways. it was rare for them to actually talk about what happened when they weren't in the same place.

"uh," he started, stabbing his rice absentmindedly. "it was fine. boring. had a music composition lecture, but hyunjin fell asleep and snored loud enough for the whole class to hear."

y/n laughed. "no way."

"swear to god. professor park just stared at him for a solid minute before moving on."

"did no one wake him up?"

"i tried, but he swatted me away like a fly."

she shook her head, still laughing. "what else?"

jisung hesitated for a moment before answering, "i worked on a song between classes."

her expression softened. "the one you told me about?"

"yeah." he looked away, suddenly a little shy. "i, uh, actually finished the demo."

"jisung!" she smacked his arm lightly. "why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"i dunno," he muttered, playing with his chopsticks. "didn’t seem important."

"of course it’s important," she said firmly. "can i hear it?"

he met her eyes, something flickering behind his own, before he looked down again. "maybe later."

she didn't push, just nodded. "okay. your turn to ask."

he raised a brow. "ask what?"

"about my day, genius."

"oh. right." he leaned back, lazily twirling his chopsticks. "so, how was your day, my dear best friend whom i love and adore?"

she snorted. "it was fine. boring, mostly. but i had this duo project in business class."

jisung hummed in acknowledgment, taking another bite. "who’d you get stuck with?"

"a guy named sunwoo."

jisung froze mid-chew, his spoon hovering just inches from his lips. his brows furrowed for the briefest second before he blinked and forced himself to keep chewing, though suddenly, the fried rice didn’t taste as good anymore.

“i see..” he said after swallowing, voice casual. too casual. “never heard you mention him before.”

y/n shrugged, taking another bite. “yeah, we never really talked until today. he’s nice, though. smart, too. i was kinda worried i’d get stuck doing all the work, but he actually pulled his weight.”

jisung scoffed lightly, poking at his food. “that’s the bare minimum.”

she snorted. “true.”

silence stretched for a beat, the playlist shuffling to another song. jisung tapped his chopsticks against the edge of his bowl, trying to ignore the weird feeling curling in his stomach. it wasn’t a big deal. just a project partner. nothing to think about.

except—

“he was pretty talkative, too,” y/n continued, oblivious to the way jisung’s grip on his spoon tightened. “like, at first, it was just about the project, but then he started asking me random stuff. like, my favorite color, what i do in my free time, my favorite coffee order—”

jisung let out a short, almost incredulous laugh. “your coffee order? what, is he planning on getting you one next time?”

she blinked, considering. “i dunno, maybe. that’d be nice.”

jisung nearly choked on air. he coughed into his fist, shaking his head. “pfft. wow. sounds like he’s… really interested in your business skills.”

y/n laughed at that, nudging his leg with her foot. “oh, shut up. he was just being friendly.”

yeah, okay. sure.

he forced a grin, shoveling another bite of rice into his mouth like it would somehow get rid of the weird, nagging feeling inside him. “so, what else did he say?” he asked, tone still light, still playful. still pretending he didn’t care.

y/n hummed, thinking. “oh, he told me i have a really nice smile.”

jisung almost dropped his chopsticks.

“oh! and that i have pretty hands,” she added, wiggling her fingers in front of his face. “which is funny, ‘cause i don’t really get the whole hand thing, but—”

“he said what?” jisung cut in, voice cracking slightly.

she blinked up at him, confused. “...that i have pretty hands?”

jisung squinted at her like she was missing something obvious. “who compliments someone’s hands?”

“i don’t know! i mean, i guess they’re kinda nice…” she examined her own fingers, flexing them under the fairy lights. “they do a lot for me, you know? writing, playing, cooking—”

“okay, but still,” jisung interjected, trying not to sound too whiny. “that’s like—textbook flirting.”

y/n snorted. “no, it’s not.”

“yes, it is!” jisung threw his hands up. “first, he asks about your coffee order—classic move, by the way—then he calls your smile nice? and now your hands?” he pointed a dramatic chopstick at her. “that’s next-level, y/n. that’s, like, hand-holding agenda.”

she gave him a flat look. “i think you’re overreacting. personally i'd love making friends like that.” she laughed.

“no, you’re underreacting!” he groaned dramatically, flopping onto the couch, staring at the ceiling like it personally offended him. “i can’t believe this. my best friend is so oblivious.”

y/n just giggled, poking his knee. “oh, come on, ji. he was just being nice. and it’s not like i’m interested in him or anything.”

jisung perked up at that, a little too quickly. “you’re not?”

she shook her head, stuffing another bite of rice into her mouth. “nope.”

something unspoken settled in the air.

jisung let out a quiet breath, something inside him easing—but he still had an annoyed little pout on his lips. “still. he was flirting. you just don’t see it ‘cause you’re you.”

“hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” he huffed, crossing his arms, “that you’re too cute for your own good, and guys like him are gonna keep trying to hit on you while you remain completely, utterly unaware.”

y/n blinked, caught off guard.

jisung realized what he said half a second too late. his ears turned pink.

“…anyway!” he cleared his throat, suddenly stuffing his mouth with rice. “this is good fried rice. really, really good.”

y/n just watched him, something unreadable in her gaze. a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips.

“dork,” she muttered under her breath.

and if jisung, in his flustered state, caught the way she was staring at him now—soft, fond, admiring—he didn’t say a word.

"sunwoo. what kind of dumb name is that?"

she laughed, shaking her head.

soon, the food disappeared slowly between them, the plates scraping softly as y/n absentmindedly pushed the last bits of rice around with her chopsticks. jisung, on the other hand, had long since finished and was now leaning back on his palms, his head tilted toward the ceiling, looking entirely too satisfied. he stretched with a deep sigh, his tee riding up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin before settling back down.

"i’m convinced you were a chef in a past life," he said, breaking the silence, his voice laced with a kind of sleepy contentment.

y/n smirked, still focused on her plate. "i’ll take that as a compliment."

"it is a compliment," he assured her, turning his head to face her. his cheek was slightly squished against his shoulder, making him look more like a sleepy puppy than a grown man. "i’m genuinely scared of what would happen to me if you weren’t around. i’d probably live off ramen and instant rice."

"you already do that when i’m not around. and still make it taste bad."

"exactly," he said, as if she had just proven his point. "my body is, like, seventy percent sodium at this point."

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "that explains a lot, honestly."

jisung gasped dramatically. "are you saying i look like someone who eats too much sodium?"

"i’m saying your diet is concerning," she teased, finally setting her chopsticks down and leaning back as well. the food had settled warmly in her stomach, and the atmosphere felt hazy in the best way—soft, familiar, comfortable.

jisung groaned, letting his head fall back. "this is why i need you in my life. you balance out all my self-destructive tendencies."

y/n snorted, stretching out her legs. "i’m your best friend, not your dietitian."

"best friend and dietitian," he corrected lazily.

she hummed, letting the conversation drift into a natural lull. the tv played quietly in the background, an old sitcom neither of them was paying attention to, and their playlist continued to shuffle through songs they had both heard a thousand times before. outside, the city was alive, but in their small little bubble of a dorm, it felt like time had slowed down just for them.

jisung shifted, sitting up properly, and y/n could feel him staring before she even turned to look at him. "what?" she asked, raising a brow.

he hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before finally saying, "i want you to be in my song."

the words were simple, casual even, but they made something in y/n’s chest tighten. she blinked. "what?"

"my demo," jisung clarified, his voice softer now, more careful. "i want you to sing in it."

yn let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "jisung, you know i don’t do that."

"why not?" he tilted his head, brows furrowing slightly. "you’re literally so good. like, so good."

she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "it’s just a hobby for me, you know that."

"okay, but why just a hobby?" his voice had that familiar edge of insistence, the same one he used when he really, really wanted something. "you could do so much more with it."

she shrugged, eyes flickering to the tv even though she wasn’t really watching. "it’s not the same for me as it is for you," she said honestly. "music is your thing, jisung. you breathe this stuff. it’s not like that for me."

"but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it," he argued, leaning in slightly. "i love your voice, y/n. you know that."

she swallowed, feeling warmth crawl up her neck. he had told her that before—countless times, actually—but something about the way he said it now felt different, heavier. "it’s just not something i see myself doing seriously," she admitted, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.

jisung was quiet for a moment, his eyes studying her face carefully. then, with a small, teasing smile, he said, "okay. but what if it’s just for me?"

she looked at him, confused. "what do you mean?"

"i mean," he started, tapping his fingers against his knee absentmindedly, "forget about, like, doing music professionally or whatever. i just want you on this song. not because i think you should be an artist or anything—just because it’s us. i dunno. i feel like it’d sound better if you were in it."

y/n bit her lip, uncertain. she liked singing, she always had, but she never really thought about it beyond the occasional harmonizing with jisung when he played guitar, or the times she mindlessly hummed while cooking. it was never something she considered putting out there for other people to hear.

jisung, however, was looking at her with those big, expectant eyes, his wide smile softened at the edges. "just think about it," he said, nudging her knee with his. "no pressure. but i think it’d be cool. i mean, imagine—our voices together in a song? legendary."

yn laughed, shaking her head. "you’re ridiculous."

"i’m right," he corrected.

she sighed, resting her chin on her palm. "i don’t know, ji."

he pouted, but there was no real disappointment in his face—just patience, quiet and steady. "i’ll send you the demo," he said after a beat. "just listen to it. see if you like it."

she nodded slowly. "fine. i’ll listen."

jisung grinned, victorious. "that’s all i ask."

another silence stretched between them, this one softer, almost charged in a way y/n couldn’t quite explain. the tv droned on in the background, but neither of them was paying attention.

jisung shifted again, stretching his legs out next to hers, their knees knocking slightly. he exhaled, tilting his head back against the couch. "i like nights like this," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself.

yn turned to look at him, watching the way his lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones under the dim light. "like what?"

"just…chill." he cracked one eye open, looking at her. "you. me. food. music. no stress."

she smiled softly. "yeah. me too."

jisung hummed in acknowledgment, closing his eyes again. "we should do this more often."

y/n didn’t respond right away, letting the words settle between them. she thought about how much time they already spent together, how their days were filled with each other in some way or another.

and yet, something about the way he said it—like he wanted more, like he wasn’t just talking about casual hangouts but something deeper—made her stomach flutter in a way she didn’t entirely understand.

she swallowed, nudging his foot lightly with hers. "we already do this all the time, idiot."

jisung smiled, eyes still closed. "yeah. but i mean more."

y/n’s heart did something weird in her chest, but before she could dwell on it, jisung sat up suddenly, stretching his arms above his head. "anyway. we should clean around before the angry yunah gets back and starts lecturing us about leaving dishes out."

the moment was gone, dissipating like smoke, leaving yn slightly dazed in its wake.

she nodded, shaking off the strange warmth in her chest, pushing herself up as well.

"right. let’s clean up."

and just like that, the night continued, soft and slow, something unspoken lingering between them—unnoticed, or maybe just ignored.

. . .

the dishes had been washed, the leftovers tucked away, and the night stretched lazily ahead of them, the warm haze of comfort lingering in the air. the tv was still on, playing something neither of them was paying attention to, but y/n could feel the way the atmosphere had shifted—thicker, heavier, filled with something unsaid.

jisung sat on the floor again, back resting against the couch, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against his knee. now, his sleeves were pushed up to reveal his forearms, and his hair was messier now, some strands sticking out in different directions. he looked soft like this—less like the flirty, chaotic mess he usually was and more like the boy she had always known, the one who could say a million things with just a glance.

y/n sat across from him, legs crossed, arms draped over her knees as she studied him. she hesitated for a moment before saying, “play it for me.”

jisung blinked, caught off guard. “huh?”

“the song,” she clarified, shifting slightly. “i wanna hear it.”

he stared at her for a second before scoffing. “you never wanna hear my songs before they’re done.”

“um, wrong, you always reject to play them for me before they're done.” she pointed, trying to sound casual. “i feel like listening everytime. and tonight.”

“and my guitar is right here, so..” she laughed.

something flickered across jisung’s face—surprise, maybe, or something softer—but he didn’t question it. instead, he reached for her guitar, a brown one, which had burgundy, floral borders over its peaks and edges. it had been sitting next to the couch all night, like it had been waiting for the right moment.

he adjusted it on his lap, fingers finding the familiar curves of the wood, the smoothness of the strings beneath his touch. the way he handled just.. guitars had always fascinated her—not just with skill, but with love, like it was an extension of himself, a second voice that spoke when words weren’t enough.

y/n watched, her chin resting on her palm as she took in the tiny details she had seen a hundred times before but never really noticed—the way his brows furrowed in focus, the way his lips parted slightly as if he were already singing in his head, the way the warm light from the tv cast soft shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his bottom lip.

he cleared his throat. “okay, but don’t judge, ‘cause it’s still rough.”

she rolled her eyes. “i never judge.”

he gave her a look, but it was softened by a small smile before he looked down at his guitar again. his fingers moved, the first chords filling the room—gentle, familiar, warm.

and then, he sang.

his voice was low at first, careful, like he was still unsure if he wanted to let her hear it. but as the melody flowed, he eased into it, his tone settling into that effortless, raspy sweetness that always made something deep in y/n’s chest ache.

she watched, completely entranced, as his eyes fluttered shut, lost in the song. the way his throat moved as he sang, the subtle shifts in his expression, the slight crease in his brow when he hit a note just right—it was all so undeniably han jisung, and it was beautiful.

she had heard him sing countless times before, but something about this was different. maybe because it was just the two of them, the world outside forgotten. or maybe because she was finally allowing herself to see him, really see him, in a way she hadn’t before.

his voice filled the room, smooth and raw all at once, laced with emotion that made her chest feel tight. and the lyrics—god, the lyrics.

it was soft, bittersweet, almost like a confession hidden within the melody. he sang about late nights and lingering glances, about feelings that hovered on the edge of something more, about someone who felt like home.

and y/n couldn’t help but wonder—who was it about?

her breath caught slightly as she watched him, taking in the way his lashes cast the faintest shadows on his cheeks, the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, the way his lips curled slightly around certain words, like he meant them.

she felt something warm spread through her chest, something unfamiliar yet oddly comforting, like stepping into sunlight after days of rain.

when he finally strummed the last chord, the room settled into silence, save for the distant hum of the city outside.

jisung let out a breath, running a hand through his already messy hair. “so… what do you think?”

y/n was still staring. she realized it a second too late and quickly looked away, blinking. “it’s…” her voice felt stuck in her throat, so she cleared it, trying again. “it’s beautiful, ji.”

he smiled, looking down as if trying to hide how much her words affected him. “yeah?”

“yeah,” she said softly.

another silence settled between them, this one different from the ones before. it wasn’t awkward—it was thick, weighted with something neither of them dared to name.

jisung shifted slightly, leaning her guitar against the couch. his fingers tapped against his knee again, a nervous habit. “i meant what i said earlier.”

y/n tilted her head. “about what?”

“about you being in the song,” he said, his voice quieter now. “your voice would fit perfectly. you have this way of making things sound… real. i dunno how to explain it, but i think it’d be better if you were part of it.”

“i know you don’t take singing seriously, and you did say you'd listen to the actual demo.. oh which i know means a no, almost,” he cut in before she could refuse, “but just this once. just for this song.”

y/n exhaled, her fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve. “why does it matter so much to you?”

jisung opened his mouth, then closed it, as if he was debating how honest he wanted to be.

finally, he shrugged. “because it’s us.”

her heart skipped.

“i mean, not us us,” he added quickly, looking away. “just… our voices. together. i think it’d be nice.”

y/n swallowed. “i don’t know if i’d be any good.”

“you would,” he said, no hesitation. “and i’d be with you the whole time. we’d do it together.”

together.

the word settled deep in her chest, warm and heavy.

she looked at him again, at the hopeful glint in his eyes, at the way he was watching her like she was something more than just his best friend.

and maybe, for the first time, she let herself wonder—what if she was?

she exhaled slowly, giving him a small, hesitant smile. “okay.”

jisung blinked. “okay?”

“i’ll do it,” she said, and his entire face lit up in that way it always did when he was really happy, the kind of smile that made her stomach flip in ways she didn’t fully understand.

“you won’t regret it,” he promised, excitement buzzing in his voice.

she wasn’t sure if that was true.

because something told her that once she sang with him, once their voices blended together in a song meant for something deeper—

there would be no going back.

and that terrified her more than anything.

. . .

sprawled out on jisung’s bed, surrounded by the soft hum of the laptop fan and the distant city sounds filtering through the window, y/n felt weightless. not in the way that meant floating away, but in the way that meant she was exactly where she was meant to be.

the air smelled faintly of fabric softener, of jisung’s vanilla-and-woodsy shampoo, of warmth. the blankets beneath them were slightly rumpled, evidence of a thousand previous sleepovers, tangled limbs, and late-night conversations that bled into early mornings. the glow from the laptop screen cast shifting patterns onto the walls, moving in time with the video they were watching.

it was their friend group’s latest dance cover, the kind they always hyped up in their group chat but never actually watched until they were together.

“look at hyunjin’s face,” jisung snickered, pointing at the screen as hyunjin executed a particularly dramatic spin, his expression intense. “bro thinks he’s in a movie.”

y/n burst into laughter, hiding her face in her hands. “no, because he so does that on purpose. you just know he was practicing in front of a mirror.”

“i bet he stared at himself for hours,” jisung agreed, shaking his head. “such a drama king.”

they continued watching, throwing in their own commentary as felix’s fluid movements took over the screen, followed by minho’s signature sharpness, yunah’s grace, and minseo’s precise footwork. their friends were insane, and as much as they teased, the admiration was real.

“minho-hyung’s on another level, though,” yn murmured, her head tilted slightly. “look at the way he controls his movements.”

jisung hummed in agreement. “yeah. he’s scary good.”

a comfortable silence settled between them, only the sound of the music playing through the laptop speakers filling the air. the bed dipped slightly where jisung had shifted, moving to lean on his elbow. yn could feel the shift in weight, the slight press of his arm against hers, the warmth of his body radiating closer than before.

she turned her head slightly—just a fraction—to look at him.

and that was when it happened.

something… shifted.

it was subtle, but it was undeniable. like a string pulled taut between them, an unspoken question hovering in the air.

jisung’s eyes were still on the screen, but his fingers had stopped absentmindedly tapping against the blanket. his jaw was relaxed, but his lips were slightly parted, like he had just thought of something he wasn’t sure if he wanted to say out loud.

the glow from the laptop flickered across his face, highlighting the curve of his cheek, the slope of his nose, the way his lashes cast delicate shadows against his skin. his hair, slightly messy from the way he had been lying down, fell softly over his forehead.

and then, as if he could feel her looking, his gaze flickered to hers.

it wasn’t immediate. it wasn’t rushed.

it was slow.

deliberate.

his eyes met hers, and for the first time in a long time, neither of them looked away.

the music in the background faded into something distant, something unimportant.

the flickering light, the sound of their breathing, the way the air seemed to press down on them—it all blended into something almost dreamlike.

jisung’s gaze dipped, just for a second, to her lips.

and y/n’s breath caught.

it wasn’t new, being this close. it wasn’t new, lying next to each other, watching something, talking about everything and nothing.

but this?

this was new.

this was different.

she could feel it in the way the space between them seemed to shrink, in the way her pulse thrummed in her ears, in the way jisung swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly.

his hand twitched—just barely—against the blanket.

and then, before she could even fully process it, he moved.

slow. hesitant. but sure.

his fingers brushed against hers, a touch so light it could have been mistaken for an accident. but neither of them moved away.

yn exhaled shakily, her heart a wild drum in her chest.

and then, suddenly—

their lips met.

soft at first. just a press—a quiet, unsure thing that barely lasted a second.

but then she leaned in.

and he did too.

and it wasn’t just a kiss anymore. it was something more.

jisung’s lips were warm, careful, but there was a hunger beneath it, something restrained, something that had been waiting far too long to be acknowledged. his fingers found her wrist, featherlight at first before gripping just slightly, grounding himself.

her hands curled into the fabric of his tee, and he let out a quiet exhale against her lips, like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

the laptop screen continued playing, casting shifting lights across their skin. the blanket beneath them was soft, but nothing—nothing—felt softer than this. than him.

he pulled away first, just enough to breathe, just enough to look at her.

his eyes searched hers, as if trying to understand what this meant.

as if asking, did we just cross the line?

but the thing was—

maybe there had never been a line in the first place.

maybe they had been here all along, just waiting for the right moment to realize it.

their breaths tangled in the space between them, warm and unsteady, still trembling with something unspoken. the moment felt like it stretched infinitely—long enough for y/n to take in the way jisung’s eyes flickered, dark pools of hesitation and something deeper, something unreadable.

his fingers, still curled loosely around her wrist, twitched, but he didn’t pull away.

the glow from the laptop continued to flicker, painting soft golds and muted blues across his face, across the fabric of his tee, across the slightly uneven threads of the blanket beneath them.

she felt warm.

not just from the shared heat between them, but from something in her chest, something that felt like a slow burn, like a realization creeping up on her.

jisung exhaled, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but then he stopped.

she blinked at him, suddenly aware of the way her heart was still hammering. loudly. so loudly she swore he could hear it.

“…we just,” she said, as if confirming it to herself.

“kissed.”

jisung let out a breathy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. yeah, we did.”

silence. not awkward, but charged.

y/n wet her lips, suddenly hyper-aware of the lingering sensation of his against hers. soft. he was soft.

then, jisung groaned, burying his face into the pillow. “oh my god. did i just ruin us?”

she blinked, before laughing softly. “you’re literally so dramatic.”

“i am not,” he mumbled into the fabric, voice muffled.

“you are. like, so dramatic. like—oscar-worthy dramatic.”

jisung lifted his head just enough to glare at her, though the way his nose scrunched up made it less intimidating. “okay, miss i-just-kissed-my-best-friend-and-now-i’m-still-here-for-some-reason—why are you not freaking out?”

y/n tilted her head. “do you want me to freak out?”

“no?” his lips quirked. “maybe?” he groaned again, flopping onto his back, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers. “i just—wow, okay, so we really did just kiss. that happened.”

she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow, her fingers playing with the loose threads of the blanket. “do you regret it?”

jisung turned his head to look at her, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. he just looked.

his gaze trailed over the shape of her nose, the way her cheek was still slightly flushed, the way her hair had fallen over her shoulder, a few strands resting against her collarbone.

then, he whispered, “no.”

her breath hitched.

jisung swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “do you?”

a beat of silence.

“…no.”

another stretch of quiet, but this time, it was softer. like a shared secret, like something that no longer needed to be questioned.

then, jisung shifted, reaching up lazily, fingers brushing against the ends of her hair. “okay. so. now what?”

she huffed a small laugh, flopping back onto the pillows beside him. “i have no idea.”

“that makes two of us.”

they both stared at the ceiling for a long moment, the sound of the laptop’s fan whirring quietly in the background.

then—

jisung turned his head toward her again, watching the way her lips pursed slightly in thought, the way her fingers absentmindedly traced shapes onto the blanket.

slowly, carefully, he reached out, resting a hand against her arm. “can we—just. stay like this? for a bit?”

she turned toward him, eyes softening. then, instead of answering, she simply curled closer, letting herself nestle into his side, the fabric of his tee brushing against her cheek.

jisung let out a slow breath, his arm naturally slipping around her, his fingers resting against the dip of her waist.

she was warm.

he could feel her heartbeat, steady against his ribs, in sync with his own.

the scent of her shampoo filled his senses—something sweet, something vaguely floral, something hers.

the sound of their breathing intertwined with the faint music still playing from the laptop, a mix of their favorite songs.

jisung sighed, letting his cheek rest against the crown of her head. “you’re kinda dangerous, you know?”

yn hummed sleepily. “oh? why’s that?”

“because i don’t think i’ll ever want to sleep without you now.”

she smiled against his chest, eyes fluttering closed. “good thing i’m not going anywhere, then.”

and for the first time that night, jisung felt like maybe—just maybe—things had fallen into place exactly the way they were always meant to.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger @woozarts @katsukis1wife @bddaramjis @reignessance @peskybirdysya @honeyybbuubblleess @ellemir2404 @4ng3l-ch1ld @urlocalmultigroupfan

[nevertheless-moving]

So You Just Killed Palpatine

In Which, Much To Obi-Wan Kenobi's Surprise, While Dealing With The Consequences of One's Own Action's Can Be A Lot, It Isn't Always Entirely A Bad Thing

originally inspired by this and this from anon and husborth Part One, Part Two, Part Three ... Part Fo ... uh ... there's memes somewhere... Anyway Here's Part Five:

Obi-Wan blinked awake, head cloudy and body heavy, as if under unusually high gravity. But no, there was the all-too-recognizable ceiling of the temple healing halls, its mosaic ceiling drifting in lazy, clockwise circles.

What did I do this time? Wait, there was something I had to tell the rest of the Jedi...something important...

Oh dear, he was on the good painkillers, wasn't he?

“Obi-Wan?” someone familiar asked, voice and force presence ringing with a startling jab of hope.

“Bant?” he tried to reply, only to be met with burning pain in his throat. The only thing he managed to get out was an unintelligible coughing fit which pulled sharply at his gut.

“Take it easy!” she urged, moving into his blurry line of sight. “You’ve had extensive abdominal surgery, and your throat was — was crushed rather severely — it’s going to take more time for the grafts to heal.”

Obi-Wan nodded, chastened, before cautiously starting the process of pushing himself up in bed, Bant hovering nervously all the while. The effort made his muscles ache and the room spin faster, but things settled down once he was sitting up.

He looked around, sagging in relief at a small oily handprint on one of the otherwise sterile visitor chairs. Anakin had been here recently, and was in good enough health to be tinkering. Good, that was good. That was important.

He suddenly realized half his vision was obscured and sluggishly raised a hand to his face, only to find heavy cloth.

“I’m sorry, we weren’t able to save your eye,” Bant said softly. “Once you’re a little more healed we can discuss artificial or bioengineered replacement options.”

She plucked a cup off a counter overcrowded with a dizzying array of flowers. “Here, drink some of this if you’re feeling up to it, it’ll make talking a little easier.”

Obi-Wan accepted the drink, only to feel it slide out of numb hands. Bant gently closed her hands around his, helping to guide the drink to his lips. He grimaced at the taste.

“Bacta infused water,” she apologized. “You’re going to be drinking bacta infused liquids for some time, I’m afraid.”

A wave of exhaustion swept over him and Bant set the cup down as Obi-Wan sagged.

“Anakin?” he managed to rasp out.

“Anakin’s fine, he’s completely safe,” Bant said with a comforting squeeze of his shoulder. “He’ll be annoyed to know he missed you waking up, he very much wanted to be there.”

Obi-Wan was going to say something else, but sleep dragged him under first.

//

Obi-Wan opened his eyes — his eye — to the sight of Quinlan Vos scowling over a datapad. The dark spot on the left side of his vision was more noticeable than before. What the kriff did I do to myself?

He shifted, irritated at how lethargically his body responded. The pad fell to the ground with a clatter as Quinlan lurched towards the bed.

“Obi-Wan! Hold on, let me — you’re supposed to have the water before you try to talk.”

Quinlan helped hold up a cup and straw so Obi-Wan could take several short sips of the unpleasantly viscous and vaguely pineapple flavored water.

“How are you feeling?” Quinlan asked, hovering with uncharacteristic anxiousness.

Obi-Wan paused to think. “Weak,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “How long have I been...”

Guilt flashed over Vos’s face. “You were in and out of Bacta tanks and surgery for a full two weeks. And then another week in an induced coma. And then another week in a self-healing trance. You had...a lot of internal injuries. I’m so sorry Obi-Wan—this is all my fault.”

Obi-Wan stared at Quinlan blankly for a moment. His face helped the memories to start trickling in.

"Yes..." he said slowly. "Yes — you knocked on my door... you said... Vos... please just... just tell me if I hallucinated anything — did I try to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?"

"I'd say you succeeded," Quinlan replied, half-smiling, half-grimacing.

"Did I — did we think he was a pedophile, only—”

He had to pause, throat burning as he fought a coughing fit. He swallowed more disgustingly flavored water before finishing the thought.

“—only to discover that he was in fact not sexually grooming Anakin, but was doing a number of other terrible things? And did he... did he — did he electrocute me...”

Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off and he took several more sips, throat filled with an uncomfortable fizzing sensation.

Quinlan nodded, wincing. “I mean parts of that you know better than me but yeah, that matches with what I understand.”

“Hm.” Obi-Wan finished the cup, mulling it over.

Quinlan Vos muttered something under his breath that Obi-Wan couldn't quite make out, but the word "dramatic" almost definitely featured.

Grey crept in around the corners of his vision, then black.

//

When he opened his eyes — his eye, he'd have to get used to that — next, he was greeted by a convenient and increasingly familiar cup at his bedside, as well as Master Windu. Obi-Wan quickly reached for the water, clutching it in both hands and taking a long drink.

Spurred on by the sight of the Master of the Order, he also reached for the urgent thought from earlier, wanting to get it out before he slipped back under —

“Chancellor Palpatine’s a Sith Lord!!”

The corners of Mace’s eyes crinkled. “Yes, Knight Kenobi," he said. "We’re aware of that now. You’ve proved it to be the case quite publicly. And ended the threat with remarkable... thoroughness.”

Obi-Wan head fell back. “A Sith Lord... the Chancellor!” he said in amazement. He was relieved to find his throat only barely twinging at his outburst.

“It truly stretches the imagination,” Mace agreed tolerantly.

“You’re telling me!” Obi-Wan took another long drink, head spinning.

Master Windu smoothed a crease from his robe before saying, with extreme delicacy, “I don't wish to pressure you into speaking before you've healed... but I admit, we’ve all been wondering how exactly you knew.”

"He force choked me and electrocuted me with Sith Lightning. Lighting! I thought that was a myth!” He drained the cup, hands shaking slightly.

“Yes,” Mace said quietly. “The healers were amazed you survived so long... let alone had the strength to fight back with such strength. We’re all extremely grateful to the Force for keeping you alive long enough for us to reach you.”

Obi-Wan made a mental note to feel grateful later, but his mental space was a bit of a mess at the moment, and he wasn't entirely certain he had filed it away correctly.

Master Windu sighed. “We would have been there sooner but I’m afraid none of us had any idea that you were going to confront a Sith.” A twinge of reproach crept into Windu's voice, but Obi-Wan set it aside along with the gratitude, to be examined at some later date. Ideally when his head felt less full of bantha wool.

“I had no idea,” Obi-Wan said numbly.

“Well you figured it out before the Council at least,” Mace replied, not without humor.

He couldn't help but snort. “Yes, because he shot lightning at me. I mean the force choking happened first but... lightning. Lightning!”

Lines formed between Master Windu's brows as he looked down at him. “As much as it pains me, I understand the risk assessment in not telling the High Council about a Sith Chancellor of the Republic, and goading a public fight was probably the best political move possible. But why start the confrontation so privately? It seemed rather — apologies, we can debrief on that when you're rested. I presume you were trying to get a confession about the droid and clone armies?”

Obi-Wan stared at Mace Windu wide-eyed.

“The what.”

The lines on Master Windu’s face deepened. “The... Kamonian clone army — the clones of Jango Fett...”

Obi-Wan’s eyes got wider. “Jango Fett—you mean Galidrean Jango Fett? The Jedi Killer? Palpatine made a clone army of him?”

Mace was silent for a long while, staring at Obi-Wan as though he were a particularly concerning puzzle. Obi-Wan chewed on the straw, mind wandering to whether or not it would be appropriate to ask Master Windu for a refill. As unpleasant as the flavor was, the fizzing did make his throat feel better.

“Knight Kenobi...” Mace finally said, speaking very slowly. “Do you remember why Chancellor Palpatine attacked you? The soul healers were quite certain the Sith Lord didn’t breach your inner shields but I think you might be suffering from some memory loss...”

His left eye itched; he resisted the urge to reach for it. Obi-Wan sank further into the cushions behind him, trying to think. Were there gaps in his memory? No, as usual, it all seemed a fairly clear path from Quinlan Vos knocking on his door to Obi-Wan ending up unconscious in the healing halls.

“Why Palpatine starting attacking?" he mused. "I suppose he wasn't going to just dance around forever — force, when he dodged my blaster shot, I simply could not understand how — it all happened so fast, but the next thing I knew I was pinned against the wall by a Dark —”

“Stop,” Master Windu ordered, raising his hand. He took a deep breath, radiating calm into the force.

“Do you remember what Palpatine said immediately before you shot him?” he asked patiently.

Obi-Wan shifted, feeling a pang of awkwardness as he muttered the answer guiltily under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Knight Kenobi, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“He said, ah, ‘you’re a Jedi’ and ‘you can’t kill an unarmed man.’”

Mace Windu stared at Obi-Wan.

There was a long pause while Obi-Wan fidgeted with the straw. He was starting to feel that perhaps his thoughts were even less clear than he had assumed them to be, and he was not handling this conversation particularly well.

Windu took another deep breath, radiating slightly less calm then before.

“Knight Kenobi. Why did you shoot the Chancellor of the Republic?”

“...I was trying to kill him,” Obi-Wan said, looking down.

“Why?”

Obi-Wan mumbled.

“Kenobi, speak clearly.”

“Well—ah—it actually turns out that I had misunderstood...I mean it had certainly seemed like...but he wasn’t actually...doing exactly what I thought...”

Windu stared at the recumbent Knight, who flushed.

It occurred to Obi-Wan for the first time, that, considering his plan of running away and becoming a bounty hunter was no longer possible nor, perhaps necessary, he could have misrepresented some of the timeline of events vis a vis sith slaying. Or better yet, pretended to have memory loss.

In his defense, the whole experience had been extremely unnerving! For all that weeks had clearly elapsed for everyone else, Obi-Wan was still processing Chancellor Palpatine shooting lightning out of his fingers.

A wave of exhaustion flooded over him, and he sank into it with relief, recognizing now the sickly sweet painkillers pulsing through his blood, clouding his thoughts and pulling him under.

//

Unfortunately, Mace Windu was still there when he woke up. Kriff.

He opened his mouth to try and backtrack, but Windu raised his hand, cutting off any poorly thought out explanations.

Master Windu took a deep breath, radiating very little calm by this point.

“Let me get this clear. Nod if yes, shake your head if no, did you go into the Chancellor’s office with the intent to assassinate the Chancellor of the Republic?”

Obi-Wan nodded.

“Did you know he was a Sith before you went into his office?”

Obi-Wan shook his head.

“Did you suspect he was a Sith?" Mace asked, slightly desperate.

Obi-Wan shook his head, cringing in apology.

“Before you went into the Chancellor’s office, were you aware that he was working with the Kaminoians to commission a clone army?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, biting back questions.

“Did you know he was working with the trade federation to commission a droid army?”

Another no.

“Did you suspect anything about these armies? Anything about a larger plot to destabilize the Republic? Destroy the Jedi? Become Emperor?”

Obi-Wan shook his head at each question, eyes widening with shock.

Mace Windu was radiating absolutely no calm at this point.

“Knight Kenobi...” he asked with a pained expression. “Did you... attempt to assassinate the Chancellor of the republic for personal reasons born out of some sort of misunderstanding? Only to inadvertently save the Republic?”

“I mean once I found out that he was a Sith... I of course changed tactics... and personal is a bit... but... that... Well. More or less sums the situation up, yes.”

Mace WIndu stared at Obi-Wan Kenobi, who wasn’t sure if he should keep talking or not. He didn't entirely trust his ability to explain things well at the moment, and ultimately decided to err on the side of silence.

Obi-Wan vaguely wished he could slip into sleep, but was fairly sure that it would be rude and possibly obvious to do twice in one conversation. His throat itched and he considered once again asking for more water, ultimately deciding against it.

Minutes passed, Master Windu staring blankly at the wall above Obi-Wan’s shoulders, while Obi-Wan's mind started to wander.

Who on earth had been paying to feed a clone army? How was Quinlan doing at getting Anakin to brush his teeth? Am I going to prison? Ohh that’s why the force was so insistent on killing Palpatine. Maybe that would help explain things to Master Windu? Though 'the force told me to' is  generally not considered a good excuse, in of itself, for acts of violence...though this is a rather unique situation...

Eventually Master Plo walked in, letting out a pleased noise.

“There he is! The Hero of the Republic!”

Mace Windu closed his eyes.

“Is that what they’re calling me?” Obi-Wan asked weakly, when it became clear Master Windu wasn’t ready to address everything wrong with that.

“Oh! Your drink is empty! Mace, Vokara was very clear with her instructions!” Master Plo scolded.

Mace Windu didn’t reply.

Plo-Koon snatched the cup, filling it up from a pitcher across the room and talking boisterously. “Well, the public is throwing around a lot of titles, but since you already had Sith Slayer...”

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan said faintly, accepting the terrible water and drinking it for lack of anything better to do.

Plo-Koon patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “I’m afraid to tell you it’s going to be very difficult for you to dodge commendations for your actions. Now that you’re awake you’re going to be faced with quite a backlog of requests for ceremonies and interviews—”

Obi-Wan choked. “Ceremonies?” he repeated in a higher pitch. He snuck a look at Master Windu. His eyes were closed, though he didn't appear to be meditating.

That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Yes, ceremonies," Plo-Koon said with far too much relish. "Turns out there are quite a lot of old traditions on the books regarding —"

Master Healer Vokara Che entered the room at brisk pace. “I thought I heard voices — I will remind you that before he is the ‘Sith Slayer Returned’ or ‘The True Chosen One’ or any such nonsense he is first and foremost my patient.”

She gave a sharp look to both Council Members. Plo-Koon nodded contritely while Master Windu continued to not say or do anything.

“The — no, no Anakin’s the chosen one —" Obi-Wan sputtered. "Anakin’s the reason — people aren’t actually calling me that, right?” he asked, drugs doing an admirable job at suppressing the panic he was fairly sure he was going to feel later. The device in Master Che's hand beeped faintly in answer.

“That and more, young Kenobi,” another familiar voice suddenly added, below his field of vision. “To collect your honors, expect to survive, you did not, mmn?”

“Master Yoda! No, I—I really didn’t expect... any honors... at most I was hoping that people would understand...” Obi-Wan protested weakly, shooting Windu a beseeching look which yet again failed to garner a response.

Che rolled her eyes, flipping a lek behind her somewhat sarcastically as she attached a glowing device to his chest. "Of course you didn't."

He barely refrained from wincing as several needles bit into him.

“Perhaps we would have had a better chance of understanding had you left us any of your evidence,” Master Koon chided gently.

“Put together the pieces we did, in our time,” Yoda added, hopping up on the nightstand to affectionately poke his shoulder.

Obi-Wan leaned back, feeling increasingly light-headed.

“Your vitals look good, all things considered,” Master Che said, sounding smug. “You should be back to getting into trouble in a year or so.”

Obi-Wan jerked his head in her direction, aghast. “A year?!”

“Busy, you will be, if work you wish. A seat, open there is for you. Comfortable chair, good company, important duties.”

Master Windu’s eyes squeezed further closed.

“What?” Obi-Wan asked, bewildered.

The healer scowled. “You were bleeding heavily into more or less all your major organs, including your brain. Really, it would be faster for me to list organs that weren't damaged. The fact that you recovered at all is only because Master Gallia conducted ill-advised on-scene amateur healing—"

"Is she alright?" Obi-Wan asked.

"—ill-advised, but successfully non-self-detrimental amateur healing, and I’m a miracle worker, and, credit where credit is due, you’re a stubborn bastard; not to mention your padawan has far too much energy to throw around — you really should consider enrolling him some healer’s courses—”

“Is he alright?” Obi-Wan asked, more urgently.

“He’s fine,” Master Plo reassured him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. “Everyone is fine except for you. He just tired himself out a few times, but Knight Vos has been keeping a close eye on him, and Anakin understands that the best thing at this point is to let you heal under your own power."

“Can I see him?” he asked. His voice was growing hoarse despite the dutifully refilled cup.

Vokara’s face softened. “Of course. He’ll be stopping by after class, in another hour or so. He’s been very punctual.”

“Master Windu? Alright are you? Silent, you have been.” Mace flinched upon being prodded with a stick. He opened his eyes, pinning Knight Kenobi with a steely gaze. Obi-Wan shrunk back, but Windu just sighed.

“You...” he trailed off. He stood up slowly, as if the movement pained him.

"I —" he said authoritatively, quieting the room. "—am taking a sabbatical. Call me when—” Windu gestured vaguely. “—you all sort out this mess.”

He walked out.

A long moment passed. “What did you tell him?” Master Plo finally asked in a hushed whisper.

"Ah..." Obi-Wan paused, limbs heavy with fatigue. "Well — you see— " He closed his eyes, feeling slightly cowardly as he did so.

//

When he opened them again, the light hadn't shifted nearly as much as other inbetweens, and his bandages hadn't been changed. Master Plo was still there, speaking quietly with Yoda.

Shit.

"Not too long that time," Vokara said, pleased. "I've lowered the dose on some of your medications, it should make it easier to stay awake."

"Oh. Good," Obi-Wan replied.

"Young Kenobi." Plo-Koon moved closer. "I dislike pressuring you in your current state, but... Master Windu appears to have left the temple. We were wondering..."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then closed it again, considering. His mind was, at last, starting to catch up with mouth. “He asked me... some questions. About how I came to suspect Palpatine," Obi-Wan said carefully. "It would appear I may have forgotten some details. About the evidence...Master Windu was — distressed regarding what I did and did not recall."

Vokara nodded. "Memory loss is completely understandable with the type of injuries you recieved."

"Alright, it is, if remember everything, you cannot," Yoda added kindly. "Our own investigations, ongoing are."

"So if I, ah, can't quite remember everything that led up to our fight," Obi-Wan asked, feeling guilty, but force, that blank look in Master Windu's eyes. "I mean I definitely remember the force willing me to decisively seek his end — really it was unusually loud about it," he added hastily. "If that helps."

Yoda nodded slowly. "This reason, understand we do. But, present to the public, perhaps not a good idea would be."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "I think — I'm not certain but I believe Quinlan Vos may have helped me collect some evidence..."

"Said as much, he did. Wait to confer with you, he wanted."

Obi-Wan sagged backwards with relief. "Yes. Yes! We had security concerns... Palpatine was so highly placed..." he trailed off.

"Considering Sifo-Dyas's and Count Dooku's entanglement in all this I can hardly blame you for hesitating to reach out to the council," Plo-Koon said, exhaustion audible even through his vocoder.

Obi-Wan choked on his spit; the following coughing fit was soon rewarded with a fresh bacta drink from Vokara.

Dooku?? Sifo-Dyas??

"Perhaps after I speak with him I'll be able to better assist with the current investigations," he offered hoarsely after recovering.

"Of course," Plo-Koon said gently. "Again, we apologize for interrogating you so early into your recovery but you really can't imagine the public and political scrutiny we've all been under —" He hesitated. "Master Windu was joking about taking a sabbatical right now, was he not?" he asked, sounding strained. "I know he's been under a lot of pressure, but surely you having memory issues couldn't—"

He was thankfully interrupted by the sound of small feet moving rapidly and a gangly body launching itself at highspeeds through the doorway.

Vokara just managed to snag the back of Anakin's robes before he crashed into Obi-Wan's medbed.

"Padawan Skywalker," she said, voice tight. "I believe I have mentioned the numerous injuries your master is recovering from and the need for —"

"Care in my movements," he said sheepishly. "Apologies, master, thank you."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, something in his chest relaxing at the sight of his dangling student.

"Obi-Wan." His padawan's eyes immediately started filling with tears.

Obi-Wan reached out instinctively. "Oh, Anakin."

"Give you a moment, we will," Yoda said, hobbling out, as Vokara sighed, then gently placed his pupil on the floor.

"Of course," Plo-Koon agreed. "Take all the time you need." He hurried to catch up with Yoda. Obi-Wan heard him begin to say, "Mace can't actually be leaving us to deal with this clusterfu—'' Then the door closed, and Anakin was weeping at his bedside.

"Shh," Obi-Wan said, tugging his padawan up, ignoring the protestations of his abdomen. "There, there, it will be alright."

Anakin crawled up, movements ginger and uncertain around Obi-Wan's numerous injuries. Together, they somehow managed to shift Obi-Wan enough for Anakin to fit beside him. His padawan shook with suppressed sobs, and parts of him were almost certainly hanging awkwardly off the edge of the bed.

Obi-Wan ran one hand through Anakin's hair, the other hand gently resting where he could reach without twisting too much, probably an elbow, though the boy was pointy enough these days that he couldn't be sure. If Obi-Wan was also shaking, well. There was reason enough.

"Sheev," Anakin finally said, oozing misery and an overwhelming tangle of other unpleasant emotions into the force.

"...I know he was your friend—" Obi-Wan said, after what was hopefully not too long a pause. This was another conversation that probably wouldn't be helped by painkillers.

"But he wasn't, really." Anakin curled up, even more miserable. "I know. I should let go."

The side of Obi-Wan's head throbbed. On second thought, painkillers were the way to go here. "That's not what I meant," he said. "He was a friend to you. He's gone now. Because of me, your master. And... I'm sure you've found out a lot while I've been asleep. I can't imagine a single padawan learner who wouldn't be struggling with their emotions right now. I'm struggling."

"I'm angry," Anakin said into his side. "Master, I'm so full of anger."

"You think I wasn't?" Obi-Wan asked dryly.

Anakin hiccuped a sob. "I'm angry at everyone."

"It's alright, Anakin," Obi-Wan soothed. "You'll work through it in time. I'll be here to help, whenever you want. Even when I'm the one you're angry with."

Anakin sobbed another minute, force presence roiling, before finally pulling himself in with a deep breath, and wiping his nose on the sheets. "You looked so cool when you were angry," he mumbled into Obi-Wan's side.

"Oh force," Obi-Wan groaned. "Of course there was holofootage. Of course you watched."

"Are you... still angry?" Anakin asked.

Fuck.

Obi-Wan tried to think of the right answer for a padawan learner. His head throbbed again.

"Honestly? Right now I'm mostly just tired. I feel like I was run over by a pack of bantha. It's never a good idea to try and deal with large emotional gnarls while you're this exhausted, remember that my young padawan."

"You've been asleep for years," Anakin whined. "How are you still tired?"

"Years?" he asked, amused.

"At least three," Anakin huffed, curling up against him.

Obi-Wan stroked his hair in peaceful silence for a moment.

"...Did you really smash in his skull with a metal chair to protect me?"

"I would do a lot of things to protect you," he confessed. "I'm sorry Anakin — I should have talked with you when I grew concerned with his behavior. I felt at the time I had to act swiftly, but I worry I only caused you more pain."

"It was a really cool fight."

"...Thank you, padawan."

"Can you teach me how to choke people with my ankles like that?" he sniffled.

Obi-Wan groaned internally. "Of course, as a Jedi, violence—" 

"Violence is our last resort," Anakin interrupted. "Right, yeah —but if it is needed—"

"—Such as when someone," Obi-Wan said over him. "After careful consideration, is found to be both politically insulated and positioned to commit great further harm—"

"Actually, I think you, the person who killed my trusted friend, lecturing me on why he was ultra especially irredeemably evil is traumatizing, even more traumatizing than all those holo compilations of you —"

"Oh force above, of course there's — oh. Oh no — please don't tell me—"

"The latest Jizz music," Anakin said, far too gleeful.

Obi-Wan groaned. Unfortunately, the extra movement in his chest triggered an admittedly ghastly sounding coughing fit and Anakin immediately lost the small edge of grace he had managed to cultivate during their back and forth.

"Master?" he asked urgently. "Master — hold on — I'll go get—"

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan rasped. "Any more of that —"

Anakin was already scrambling to fetch the pitcher.

Such a good boy, he thought affectionately, watching him pour and carry over a glass with the same care others might have when handling molten gold.

Obi-Wan drank with a reciprocal amount of delicacy, knowing his padawan was watching falcon-eyed for any wasted drops.

"Perhaps we should finish this conversation a little later," Obi-Wan said, once his airways calmed down.

Coughing should not be this exhausting.

"Of course," Anakin said, subdued, but he crawled back into bed readily enough when Obi-Wan patted it.

“Really, though —” Obi-Wan started to say, feeling it was duty to try and wrap up the lesson, but he was fortunately cut off before he was forced to figure out exactly what that lesson was.

“It’s alright,” Anakin chimed comfortingly. “We have time to talk about it, master. Can’t you tell?”

“Hm?” Obi-Wan replied, fighting the droop of his eyelids. 

“The force clears,” Anakin said, voice sonorous. “The dark retreats.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan’s eyes started falling closed. “That’s nice.”

“So we have time. To figure out the rest.”

 “Very nice,” Obi-Wan murmured.

His padawan curled against him, force presence like ocean waves rocking him to sleep.

“The force says it’s going to be alright,” Anakin whispered, wonderingly. “It’s going to be alright.”

Obi-Wan smiled, then once again slipped back to sleep.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part seventeen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness (r has a panic attack), she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is the tea guys get ready for a LOADED chapter. also,, i apologize.

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo wants to ask you who that guy was- why he made you so instantly uncomfortable, and he wants to, but he's cut off before he can get a word out by someone shouting your name. You tense under his hold, freezing on the spot. Then your name comes again, and as Coryo turns to see the face of whoever it is, he was met with the very same blonde boy just a few feet away.

"Hey, leavin' already?" He asks, tilting his head at you as you turn. He doesn't even spare a glance in Coryo's direction. "Didn't even say hello."

"Oh, well, I'm just... not feeling well." You reply, dropping Coryo's hand in favour of shielding yourself around your waist.

"Oh, that's a shame. Can I walk you home?" He offers.

"I've got it, actually." Coryo answers stiffly, straightening his shoulders as he takes in the boy's attire. Blue slacks, a white T-shirt, and a buzzcut. He's a peacekeeper.

The boy looks him up and down, a smirk forming on his lips. "This is your mentor. Saw him on TV with you, I didn't realise that was a... permanent arrangement."

"Coriolanus just came to visit. He's a good friend." You say quietly, hardly to be heard over the Covey band playing in the background.

"Oh! A friend. Of course." He laughs, speaking to you, but his eyes are locked with Coryo's; unafraid, taunting. "And here I was thinking you had a type."

"Y/N has never mentioned you." Coryo states, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep himself from throwing a punch. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Right! Sorry, I'm Cole." The blonde boy replies.

Coryo could laugh. Clearly, he was local. "Should I take a blind guess at where your father works, Cole?"

His jaw tenses in response, but then he laughs. "Yeah, yeah. You'd probably be right." He reaches up, running his hand over his jaw. "You know, if Y/N isn't up to giving you a tour, maybe I could take you out in the woods and show you where your father was murdered. How does that sound, Snow?"

You look up at your friend, eyes wide. Coryo doesn't know what to say or do, but he looks pissed. "Cole, enough." You state, trying to steady the shake in your voice. "That was cruel and you know it."

"Oh, was it? Sorry." He apologizes, but he's looking past you at a seething Coriolanus. He can only hear his heartbeat in his ears, and he wants nothing more than to beat this guy to a pulp right where he stands.

"Coryo, let's just go, please..." He can suddenly hear your voice, and feel your hands against his chest, trying to urge him out the door.

"Yeah, you two head out." Cole chuckles, lifting one hand in a wave. "I'll give you some advice though, bud, you're not getting anything from her by walking her home. I've been down that road and jeez- it's really not worth it."

Coryo didn't care anymore if you were trying to get him out; he steps past you and is throwing a fist right into Cole's nose before you could make a move to stop him. Bringing up his father was one thing, saying something so disgusting about you was totally another. Coriolanus would not look past that and be a pacifist right now- even if that's what you wanted.

You stumble back with a gasp, hands flying up to cover your mouth. You stand frozen as Coryo knocks him down, laying punch after punch onto a boy you once thought of as a friend.

Hit. After. Hit.

You couldn't see his eyes. You weren't sure why you were looking. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't like what you saw.

You back up. Back, back, back until your head hits the wall and you can't keep going. You didn't realize you were breathing so fast until you started to get dizzy. People are shouting, a crowd is forming. Too many people, too much screaming- the music has stopped, and you watch from outside your body as Sejanus wraps his arms around Coriolanus's waist and yanks him back so he's standing upright again.

He wipes his bloodied mouth on his wrist, then promptly pushes his hair back out of his eyes as he spits the blood in his mouth down on Cole as he lies on the ground. Time is moving so slowly that you're not even sure he's moving. Is he dead?

Your eyes flit back up to Coriolanus again, and his eyes catch yours. You try to take a step back again, but the wall is still there. Shades of red cloud the edges of your vision, and you're stuck making eye contact with him. Frozen, and terrified.

"No- no, no Y/N, wait-" He starts to speak to you. You wonder if you're dreaming. If this was another nightmare- worse than the others. It was personal. "Y/N- hey, don't look at me like that. Come on, don't look at me like that. Talk to me." He's saying, pleading with you, and you can only read his lips as tears fall quick and heavy from your eyes.

He takes one step with empty but bloodied hands held out in front of him, and you're running. It's the worst kind of deja vu. You don't know where to go- you can't go outside. He knows where you live, where your family lives, and it's too long of a walk to be able to make it. He would catch you if you tried to run home alone.

You're trying to sprint through a crowd of drunk people, many of whom are fighting as well now, and you almost don't even notice when you take a hit to the side of the head with someone's elbow as you try and get to the back room. You don't have time to care. You look back over your shoulder, shoving your way through as quickly as you can. He's following you. You can see his blonde hair in the semi-cleared path you made for yourself.

You can't look back, you have to look forward as you dart down the dark hallway, praying that the Covey's makeshift dressing room has a lock on the door. You didn't even realize you were screaming until you slammed the door behind you, scrambling for the lock and sliding the rusty metal shut as you barricaded the door with your body.

"Y/N! Y/N, wait!" Coryo shouts, shoving his way through the crowd behind you. You can't hear him, even when he catches your eyes. That same fear behind them made his gut twist.

He only just clears the crowd behind you when someone is standing right in his path, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him back. Lucy Gray. She wasn't strong, but she needed to be. "What have you done!" She's shouting right in his face, pushing him back again, but it does little to move him. "Why would you do that in front of her?! Get out of here! Now!"

"No, no, Lucy Gray I need to-"

"Coriolanus Snow if you don't get away from her right now I swear to god I-"

"No, you don't understand I-"

"I understand damn fine, thank you!" She huffs. "Sejanus, go get Lennox."

He didn't even clock that Sejanus was holding onto him, keeping him from getting any closer to you even though you were locked behind that door he could see just feet away. He could hear you screaming, sobbing, and he only wanted to help.

"Okay, yeah. I will." Sejanus says, turning his grip onto Coryo's arm. "Come on, you gotta go."

He had seen Sejanus angry before, but it was never directed at him. "Sejanus, please, I have to help her, I can't go through this again I really-"

"You can help her by leaving."

Coryo's heart sinks in his chest, but he lets Sejanus pull him away, and he stares hopelessly back over his shoulder at the door as Lucy Gray knocks on it, talking to you through the metal barrier protecting you from him.

"Y/N/N, hey, it's me. It's Lucy Gray. You gotta let me in, sweetheart. Come on, open up." She's trying to stay calm as she knocks on the door, repeatedly trying the handle on it. "I'm alone, I promise you're safe, Y/N/N. Open the door, please."

You can hear her, but everything besides your broken sobs sounds distant as you're curled up against the opposite wall. There's not enough air in the world right now to keep you conscious- there must not be a window back here. You force yourself back onto your feet, stumbling as you try to stand up and you can hardly see. It's hot.

You look up, there's no vents. The ceiling is too high. Somehow, that makes you feel more claustrophobic.

You make your way over to the door, your palms against it and feeling soft knocks coming from the other side.

"Lucy Gray?" You sniff, unsure now that it was even her voice that you heard.

"Yes, sweetheart. It's just me, can you let me in, please?"

You take three deep breaths.

"Y/N/N?"

With a shaky hand, you reach up and slide the lock open.

She tries the handle again, looking back over her shoulder when it cracks open this time.

You step back quickly as the door is slowly pushed open, almost falling back with the urge to run. You hardly remember why you would open the door.

"Hey, hey, just me." Your best friend says, quickly closing the door again and locking it behind herself.

She eyes you carefully, and your arms are wrapped tightly around your midsection. You don't look like yourself- eyes wide with nothing more than terror behind them, like you're physically holding yourself together and it's not really working as your chest rises and falls so fast she can almost see your muscles straining to keep up. She wants nothing more than to pull you into her arms and tell you it's okay, but she's not sure touching you would be wise. "You okay, Hun?"

You look at her with tear-filled eyes, shaking your head.

"That's okay." She nods at you, understanding and filled with worry. "Do you want to sit? I'll get you some water and we can talk, okay?"

You nod, swallowing over the dryness you didn't even notice in your throat left over from all the screaming and crying. If you didn't know better, you would have thought you swallowed a full box of cotton.

Lucy Gray nods, double checking the door is locked before going over to her bag in the corner and grabbing a water bottle. You watch her the whole way and her calmness slightly soothes you, just enough to sit down at the bench and table beside you.

Lucy Gray isn't scared. You're safe here. You have to remind yourself over and over that you're safe now.

"Your brother is on his way." She assures you, sitting down across the bench from you and holding out the water she just opened for you.

"Okay." You say quietly, taking it and just holding it in your lap. You try and take a deep breath, your head falling back as you shut your eyes, trying to force the fear to leave your body.

"There you go, good. Keep breathing." You hear her tell you and you swallow again. "Can you talk to me? Tell me what happened. No one can hurt you here, I promise."

"Coryo, go home." Sejanus instructs him, turning him in the opposite direction, as if he couldn't do it himself. He had absolutely zero interest in going back to that cold empty house they had borrowed for the month.

Especially after what he had done to you. Again.

He promptly turns back around in the street. "No, I'm coming with you."

Sejanus sighs, rubbing his hands down his face. "I don't have time for this-"

"I agree. Let's go get him."

"Don't you get it?" Sejanus laughs bitterly, eyes wide with exasperation as he shakes his head. "Don't you know what you've done to her?"

"Of course I get it!" Coryo shouts in response. "I've ruined everything! I know that!"

Sejanus opens his mouth to speak, quickly shutting it again.

"I'm killing her! I'm killing her and I can hardly breathe right now and I need her to know I didn't mean to scare her and the only way I can show her that is helping her now. That's the mistake I made last time, and I won't do it again. I won't." He shakes his head, reaching up and pushing his hair back out of his eyes.

"She talked to me, on the last night I saw her. She screamed, and cried, just like that," He gestures vaguely toward the building you're still trapped inside, "and she asked if that's who I was and I couldn't tell her no. She asked if I regretted it and I do, more than anything, and I'm pretty sure she's the only damn reason why and she doesn't know that!"

"I can't lose her." He adds after a moment of the two boys just staring at each other. "Not again, Sejanus. I'm scared of who I'll be without her."

Sejanus shakes his head slightly, looking up at the stars as he takes a deep breath. He was mad at Coryo for scaring you, but he was his friend, and if this is how he wanted to help, he couldn't bring himself to push him away after he was sure that Coryo had never been so honest in his life.

"Okay. Let's go."

There are still lights on in the house when Sejanus knocks on the door. Coryo is standing at his side, chest tight. Your brother already didn't like him- he knew this wouldn't go well at all, but he couldn't walk away from you now. If it was your brother you needed, he would get him for you.

The door opens and they're lucky to see that it was Lennox who answered.

"Where's my sister?" He asks immediately, noting that you weren't with them.

"Something happened, and Lucy Gray asked us to come get you." Sejanus answers, and Coryo's breath hitches as your brother's eyes lock on him.

"What did you do?" He spits, and for a moment Coryo wonders how you could even be related.

He feels himself go pale. "I'm sorry, I really am..."

"Pa!" Your brother shouts back into the house, not giving him the chance to explain further. "We gotta go get Y/N/N, somethin' happened to her."

"What?" Your dad's voice comes next, panicked and frantic as he hurries to the door, not even bothering to grab a coat as he and his son push past the boys on the porch.

Coryo hadn't had the chance to meet him yet, and the fact that this is his first impression makes him feel ill.

"What happened, is she hurt?" He asks, stalking quickly down the front path and they follow hastily after.

"She's not hurt." Sejanus assures him quickly.

"She, uhm, maybe..." Coryo says, embarrassingly non-confident. Everyone looks at him. "She caught an elbow to the head, I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry."

"You're Coriolanus?" Your dad says, turning to look at him only briefly.

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you for coming to get us." He replies, nodding to him. "You did the right thing."

Coryo has to ignore the glares Lennox is shooting into him. He must be the only one who knows.

"We didn't know it would be unsafe for her, but we should have. I apologize." Sejanus says, and your father slightly shakes his head.

"She's got a smart head on her shoulders. She wouldn't've gone if she thought something would happen. Can't blame anyone." He replies. "There's no guidebook on how to live with this stuff."

"I have a good idea of what not to do." Lennox cuts in, and Coryo catches him staring at his bruised knuckles. He quickly tucks his hands into his pockets.

Peacekeepers had cleared out the Hob by the time they got back. Coryo recognizes the other kids in Lucy Gray's band as they stand outside, presumably waiting for her to come out. She was still with you, maybe that was a good thing.

"Tam Amber, is Lucy Gray with her?" Your father asks the boy, who nods in response.

"They won't let you in here, but go try the back door. Goes straight to our room, that's where I saw her go."

"Thanks, Son." Your father nods, lips pursed together as he pats his shoulder and quickly brushes past, rounding the side of the building.

Coryo tries to follow, but Lennox stops him abruptly with a hand on his chest. "You better go."

"Listen, I, I don't know what she told you, but-"

"She told me everything I need to know about you." He says, looking back over his shoulder at his dad knocking on the door, ear pressed to it as he calls out for you and Lucy Gray. "And I know that you being here will just make it worse. So go."

Coryo nods, running a hand down his face. "Listen, I get it, I do, but I can't lose her again. I can't. I have to explain-"

"No, no." Lennox cuts him off. Coryo is sick of people cutting him off. "Can't you just let her be happy? We're doing everything we can to convince her she's still alive- that she's safe and it was hard enough already before you showed up. Literally every night she has nightmares about you, because she trusted you. Completely. You've been here less than a day and you hurt her all over again- I can't just stand by and let that happen."

"I did it because that guy said something horrible about her- I just, I couldn't let him get away with that!" Coryo protests, scared that no one would actually give him a chance. "Last time I didn't get to talk to her and I think that's what she needs."

"Oh, you think that? That's spectacular. She'll be cured!" Lennox laughs dryly, rolling his eyes. "We don't need you to fix her. I really don't have time for this, Coryo."

He practically spits the nickname at him, laced with venom as he turns on his heel to go to the door.

Coryo groans, running his hands down his face again as he watches the door open for your brother and father.

"It's like," You take a deep, shaky breath, squeezing the water bottle you're holding in your lap. "It's like he is a different person, Lucy Gray. Do you get it now? Did you see?"

"I believe you. I always have." She nods, looking into your eyes. "I saw it, but..." She sighs, breaking eye contact with you. "I don't think he's a vicious person, Y/N. And I don't think you think that either."

You chew your lip, shaking your head as your eyes fall to the floor.

"Can I give you my opinion?" Lucy Gray asks after a moment, reaching out to hold your hand.

"Truth is truth to the end of reckoning." You say plainly, nodding and gripping onto her hand.

"There's no reckoning, love, okay? I'm your friend first and foremost. I want to help you, and I will always be honest with you." She assures you before continuing. "But I think... I think he's just a normal boy. Boys get in fights all the time-"

"Lucy Gray you didn't see it."

Your best friend is calm, despite you interrupting her. You never did that, but she knows better than to fault you for it now. "Okay, alright. What didn't I see?"

Your hair falls into your eyes as you shake your head, and you quickly push it back with your free hand to look at her. "His eyes."

"His eyes, okay... What about them?"

"He gets... It's scary. Like he wants to do it. Like he enjoys hurting people and, and-" Just recalling it makes your heart rate increase.

"Okay. I believe you." She nods, placing her other hand on yours. "But I think this is more about you than him, sweetheart."

Lucy Gray can see the confusion that knits itself into your creased brow. "It was a scary, traumatic time for you, and I think you're still recovering and that's okay. You may never be the same and that's okay. But I don't think he'd hurt you. I really don't. I think he's a good person."

"I want to think that..." You sniff, shaking your head. "but just as easily that could have been me in the arena. And just as easily that could have been you out there, or, or..." Your train of thought dissipates. "I just mean it doesn't seem that anything is stopping him."

"I don't think it could have been you. He cares about you. You told me that, remember?" She smiles softly. "I think it was inconsiderate of him to act that way out there, but I think you were just reliving something you shouldn't have to. The games can make anyone do bad things."

"Maybe..." You mutter, second-guessing yourself now. You didn't even see his eyes tonight, not until he was looking at you and begging you to listen when you couldn't. He looked just as scared as you, as soon as he realized what he had done.

"Are you sure you saw that today?" Lucy Gray's question shocks you, but it's exactly what you were thinking. "His eyes, I mean. Did you see it again or did you just expect to after last time?"

You jump at the rapid knocking on the back door. Lucy Gray stands up, making her way over to it. You hear muffled voices for a few moments before Lucy Gray returns. "It's your family, I'm going to let them in, okay?" She pats your leg and you nod, and she smiles at you reassuringly before walking away.

You hear the door creak open and you stand up, brushing off the front of your dress and turning to face them as your father and Lennox rush in.

"Honey, are you okay?" Your father asks, quickly gathering you into a hug and you nod, biting back more tears.

"Fine just fine." You whisper. "I'm sorry you had to come all this way..."

Lucy Gray catches a glimpse of Sejanus and Coryo standing outside as she lets your family in, looking back at them talking to you when she slips out. She gently closes the door behind herself and walks up to them. "I thought I told you to go home."

"I know, I know, but-" Coryo looks between her and the door. He sighs, deciding to give up on defending himself. "Is she okay?"

Lucy Gray looks at him, arms crossed over her chest as his hair falls in his eyes and he doesn't immediately fix it, more concerned about you than anything else. "You need to cut your hair." She states plainly.

He's confused, opening his mouth to argue when she speaks again. "You need to cut your hair so she can see your eyes. She'll feel safer with you then." She turns on her heel, nodding to Sejanus before heading back for the door. "When we get her out of there you better be gone- she can't see either of you tonight." She pauses, hand on the handle. "But yes, she'll be okay."

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

It’s me again, the Norm anon. I wanted to build upon your recent comment about Norm and Hank’s dynamic in the show.

The thing that stood out to me in the show was when Hank put Lucy in the little closet when Moldaver and the raiders attacked. He said “you are my world” to her and I immediately thought to myself, well what about, Norm? You have a whole other kid that you don’t seem to be nearly as close to or even worried about after this absolute massacre.

I think he saw Lucy as being the perfect successor of what Vault Tec wanted for their descendants. She followed the rules, was positive to a fault, active and involved in various activities, clubs and the community. Maybe it was also because she reminded him of her mother because despite what all did, he did love her at one point.

Whereas Norm had problems wherever he went seemingly. Despite him having all the real qualities of a Vault Tec employee that you see behind the scenes, pulling the strings: someone who is perceptive, calculating to the point it is almost manipulative and has what it takes to make those gritty decisions that others would be shocked about (i.e. suggesting they kill the remaining raiders).

I honestly think that between Lucy and Norm, he is the one that is most like Hank. The real Hank that was helping take part in this whole Vault Tec experiment.

I just love seeing stuff with the Vaults and their community so it’s a shame that we didn’t get more of Norm in the first season and his dynamic with Lucy and their father. But he will definitely be a big player in the coming season. Definitely underestimated black sheep.

I think you’re gonna be bringing a level of angst and realism to this that’s gonna scream “porn WITH plot.” Super excited.

This got buried underneath newer submissions in the inbox, and I've been whittling away at like ten asks at once, so sorry for the delay in my reply, Anon. I seem to remember this being sent in just a bit before Shoot The Moon came out, so I hope you've gotten a chance to check it out since then! I really am very proud of it.

As to your comments about Norm's dynamic with Hank, I was really excited to dig more into it! I did try to keep it as more of a building, below-the-surface tension for most of the piece, because I wanted the focus to be on the romance and Norm's deep sense of self-doubt (largely accrued through years of being treated as second fiddle or literally forgotten about much of the time). I think that's what their whole relationship would be like: just a shit ton of unspoken resentments on both sides, swallowed down for the sake of nicety and appearances.

That line in the show really sealed that thought for me, honestly. Like, sir, what do you mean she's "your world"? Do you even know where your son is right now? Are you certain he's okay? Lucy was the person who hid Norm away to make sure he was safe because their father was too busy.

Hank absolutely sees Rose in Lucy, we couldn't agree more on that. I'd even go a step further and say that Hank sees Lucy as basically another version of her mother, one who he can control more easily and ultimately utilize for whatever purpose he saw for Rose. I highly doubt Hank MacLean views either of his children as full-fledged, independent people, only as potential means to meet his goals. Therein lies the root of why he treats them so differently; sure he may hug both kids, talk to them both, play dad. How bad would it make him look if he made it blatant just how much he favors one child to the other? He's supposed to be the upstanding leader of the Vault community, so he also has to appear to be the world's best dad.

However, at the end of the day, Norm's not as pliable, and therefore not as useful to Hank. He also isn't especially impressive on any front that his father cares about, so he also has no use for him as a way to make himself look good. Hank is completely blind to the fact that his son is more like him than his daughter will ever be (a dangerous underestimation of how calculating and tactical Norm can be when he really applies himself). Norm is essentially a son-shaped prop Hank trots out when he needs him. Make no mistake, though; the moment Lucy crosses him, she's demoted to the same position in her father's eyes. He only loves Lucy as much as he does because she's like a Rose who follows orders, and we all know what happened to the real Rose when she crossed him.

Like you, I'm definitely hoping to learn more about what folks' living experience in the Vault program is like in season two...honestly, if they're not gonna fill in the holes, I already have a ton of headcanons about Vault life ready to go. Every Vault is different, but it'll be interesting to see if they elaborate on how the "trio of sister Vaults" setup works, or was intended to work.

I hope Shoot the Moon was everything you wanted! I'd love to write more for Norm in the future. You and I seem to have a very similar vision of the MacLean family, so if you ever have more thoughts, don't hesitate to shoot them to me! Thanks for reading!

[deathbxnny]

Alrighty, time for a follow up on my previous request.

So, I'd like to request Baizhi (not "Shinxi" lmao), Jianxin and Chixia in the same scenario as Yangyang and Jinshi, that being with an S/O who is immune to poison. Because it's fun imagining these virtual waifus almost having a heart attack because they think their S/O is gonna die only for them to... not, lol.

Hello there, Anon! Thank you again for clarifying your error, and I'm sorry this took so long to get to. Life hates me, lmao-

Content: Unserious, established relationships, poison consumption, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》BAIZHI

"Very well... the liquids should be ready for testing." Baizhi hummed whilst gazing down on the many vials in great interest. They had been delivered to her personally to check whether or not they were poisonous/harmful, and you just happened to pass by that day. "Testing? Isn't that going to take a while?" You ask with a frown, remembering that you were supposed to go on a little dinner date right after. But Baizhi just nodded with a sigh.

"I'm afraid so... my apologies, I know you were looking forward to our outing." She said before beginning to prepare the work area and putting on some gloves. Turning away for a moment to grab some testing tubes, she didn't hear you slipping off the chair you were resting in and approaching the table.

"That's fine! I have a quicker way to test these anyway." Baizhi raised a brow at your reply, her head turning to you carefully just in time to see you casually gulp down one of the vials. Her mouth opened, eyes widening to tell you to cut it out... but all you did was shake your head as though you've sipped on some strong liquor before giving her a thumbs up.

"One down, three more to go." She watched you with an unreadable expression, as you easily found out that only three of the four were filled with poison. Writing this down, you handed her the paper with a wide grin. "Well? Our date still stands, let's go."

Baizhi blinked until she just sighed and allowed you to drag her off. She honestly was too tired to even bother asking how the hell you did that... but she hoped that you wouldn't mind her conducting some harmless experiments/studies on your unique condition later...

》CHIXIA

You and Chixia were just casually patrolling the area around the city when you bumped into a traveling merchant who was trying to sell you two a mysterious bottle of liquid. You were both 99% sure that it was probably poisoned and tried to wave the man away, yet he didn't stop pestering you.

Sighing in slight annoyance, Chixia crossed her arms with a frown. "Hey now sir! We already said no." She huffed, obviously really irritated with the situation. Giving the man an unimpressed glance, you pointed at the bottle with a tilt of your head.

"If I drink it all in one go, will you leave us alone already?" You asked, as you ignored Chixia's concerned whisper of your name. The merchant had no chance to answer however, when you just snatched the bottle out of his hand, popped the cap off and tilted your head back to drink it all down just as you said you would. Chixia and the merchant were flabbergasted, practically frozen in surprise before the girl finally grabbed your arm in panic. "Hey! What the-" "-Oh... this actually tastes pretty good... You're still getting arrested for attempting to poison us, though." You threw the now empty bottle back to the man who just barely caught it. You should've dropped dead seconds ago and yet, you still stood there as unimpressed as you did before.

"How... what?" Chixia asked, practically speechless, before she let out a sudden laugh at the absurdity of the situation and called for backup to take the defeated man away. "When were you going to tell me that you were able to do THAT?" She was rather excited about this new thing she learned about you and definitely wanted to know every small detail on your way back home.

》JIANXIN

You and Jianxin were meditating somewhere in the mountains together. It was perhaps a rather odd way to have a date, but it fit your girlfriends vision of what a relaxing day should be like. With that said, she eventually handed you a bowl filled with an unfamiliar liquid. You glanced at it curiously, the urge to drink it, making you hold it up to your face in wonder.

Closing her eyes with a wide content smile, she sighed in relief. "This is truly a good way to end the day! Now, this liquid is there to help us relax further and tap into our inner world -" As she spoke, she didn't hear the sound of slow sipping in the background. "In order to do so, however, we have to hold out this bowl of water mixed in with poisonous flowers and recite a prayer." The silence was deafening when you chuckled awkwardly.

"... so uhm... You're not supposed to drink it?" "... Huh?" Cracking an eye open, Jianxin felt her soul leave her body when you casually held out the now empty bowl to her with a sheepish smile. She didn't know what was worse at that moment. The empty bowl that she worked hard on preparing or the fact that you just drank something that could absolutely kill you in a couple of minutes?

"Hey, Hey, don't worry, I won't die from this-" You quickly waved away her concerns before putting down the bowl next to her still full one. "Sorry, I should've waited for you to finish, haha..." The silence stretched on until Jianxin held her chin in thought. "Hm... maybe this is a sign from the spirits..." You chuckled again, alot more relaxed this time, as you were glad to know that she just brushed over that instead of questioning it too much for now...

[ryuichirou]

Replies

More replies about recent stuff, plus some random twst stuff pluuuus a reply related to a Malleus sketch from our 🔑🔞twt <3 Thank you for your questions.

thestarlightfae asked:

...Do I want to know what Lilia has on his phone?

Somehow I doubt it… But he wouldn’t mind showing!

Anonymous asked:

Ryuichirou just to let you know your literally the reason why I download Tumblr and I'm so so glad I did so🙇🙇

Oh god Anon, I am very sorry for doing this to you LOL Thank you so much!!! <3 I am glad you’re enjoying it!

m1lk-n-cook1es asked:

Dragon Malleus has six limbs and is therefore an insect. Discuss

(idk if he has 4 limbs in the dragon body but oh well)

Does…that mean that a centaur would also be an insect? This is kind of troubling… 😟

I think this is something we could discuss for hours until Malleus appears and ends this discussion forever, looking offended af :(

Anonymous asked:

Ace and malleus won't be together because ace has no Rizz  and no skills. he would fumble malleus so hard he would end up with someone else twice over, who im not sure but definitely someone he has to see a lot

(related to a reply about Ace the donkey to Malleus’ dragon)

OUCH, Anon!! You’re roasting Ace more than Malleus would’ve roasted him while literally breathing fire 😭🔥

Give this boy a chance. That being said, we all know the chance is slim….

Anonymous asked:

about the mosquitoes bites ! If you put a burning hot metal spoon on it for a few seconds the heat will kill the itchiness ! Tested and approved every summers you should definitely do it 👍

My favourite part about posting that mosquito comic is people recommending remedies for the bites…!

Thank you, Anon. I’ll keep that in mind.

Anonymous asked:

Would the twst ppl ever go down of ppl of the opposite sex? Or is everyone just gay? Like Floyd on a female riddle or something

-english is not good with me

“Everyone is gay” is our default because we prefer gay ships, but we don’t really headcanon sexualities for characters. If we ever come up with a good story with Floyd and fem!Riddle, nothing would stop us from indulging in it 💪 There are some that are more difficult for me to see with the opposite sex than the others though.

Anonymous asked:

Do the doms give oral? Like will the dom suck the sub's dick at all or nah?

With you would oral sec be strictly a bottom's job?

It is a tendency in my art to only leave it for the bottoms because it is a personal preference. But I don’t think that all of our tops would be strictly against it on the same level.

I wrote some hcs quite a while ago, if you want a detailed answer about someone in particular! Although I think my bias is pretty obvious lol Sorry.

Anonymous asked:

Okay the post of Malleus laying an egg from a while ago on your locked twt has been driving me so up the walls I haven't even been able to find the words??? I was so gagged when I saw it????

Shota Malleus always feels like he's totally convinced he's mature enough to handle Lilia and anything else you throw at him (he isn't) and him dealing with something like that when he's definitely way too young and unprepared and being completely overwhelmed and scared by it is SO GOOD

I can imagine him calling out Lilia's name in such a broken way, half upset because he just went through something really painful and scary and he wants to be comforted by his caretaker, and half because he's so confused and he has no idea what he should do and he needs Lilia's guidance, when Lilia was the one who put him into that mess in the first place... I worry that Lilia is going to take one look at him and their egg and be like "guess it's scrambled eggs for breakfast!" to cover his own mistake before anyone finds out 😭

(And also...... I just think it's a little hot... Malleus pushing out an egg that's too big for his body all alone in his room with nobody to help him regulate his breathing and pushing?? He just has to figure it all out on his own because he can't/won't call for help??? Squeezing that egg out a little at a time and slowly stretching himself open, before it falls back inside him and he has to start all over again, basically fucking himself on it until he finally gets it out... 🥵)

I am SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT, ANON!! <3 I want to say that it was a very self-indulgent sketch, but then again, everything that we post is lol

Poor Malleus absolutely wasn’t ready for anything like that to happen and he definitely wasn’t told that this was something that could happen to a dragon fae… And Lilia was probably surprised too, looking at him like shoot that wasn’t supposed to happen yet, wtf, “dragon eggs are rare” my ass lol Lilia really fucked up his cycles…

I guess they really are going to have scrambled eggs for breakfast…! God we had so many conversations about Lilia and dragon eggs, I really should finish that one comic from ages ago.

(I’m also glad you find this hot as well~ If definitely would’ve been much easier for him if Lilia was around when that was happening, poor thing probably thought he was dying or something. He often feels alone, but when that happened, he felt especially alone and helpless. It’s honestly a miracle he wasn’t mad at Lilia afterwards, but I guess it’s because he was way too shocked for that)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello! Raven. I hope you're doing well. I'm the anon who sent the acotar and malleus related ask. It's been quite some time since I sent that ask I thought you were not going to reply 😅. Thank you so much for replying. So is it okay if a ask is not twst related but like fantasy, fairytale and fae related in general? Fantasy is my fav genre. Dragons & fae or both combined are a bonus. What kind of romantasy or fantasy novels do you like? Do you have any book recommendations? Also can I be 🐉anon

[Referencing this post!]

Welcome back, 🐉 Anon~

Please note that if I choose to respond to an ask, it may take several weeks for my reply to be posted 😅 This is because I may have as many as 30 to 60+ in my queue at any given time (with new asks coming in every day). I give priority to immediate TWST content updates and news. Casual asks and/or questions not immediately relevant will likely be queued to go up later.

I would prefer that most asks be related to TWST in some way. The occasional off-topic-but-still-related-to-my-interests ask is fine, I just don’t want people to feel like they can talk to me about anything and everything. This is because I don't want to give readers the false impression that I'm a close internet friend they can hit up to chat about whatever. It might make people too comfortable with me to the point where they start to cross my boundaries of comfort. In fact, it has happened multiple times before so I want to discourage this whenever possible.

When it comes to fantasy novels, I actually don't like high fantasy. It's hard for me to follow along with all the terminology and unconventional names. I like a world that's well-fleshed out, but the magic system doesn't necessarily need to be well-defined. I'd actually say I prefer a soft magic system since it lets me fill in the gaps with my own imagination and there are fewer restraints on what is and is not possible. This kind of magic also feels a lot more whimsical, which I, as a fan of Alice in Wonderland, adore. I can enjoy fantasy books with good vibes or pretty writing alone if I turn my brain off; there doesn't need to be an amazing story or characters (though I would prefer them all be present). The problem with romantasy specifically, however, is that the emphasis tends to be on the romance part and not the fantasy part, and that tends to fall flat for me when I struggle to find a couple I care about. Every Shadow Daddy feels the same after a while, and while that’s great for people who love Shadow Daddies, it’s not so for those who don’t.

My point is that even within a genre, there's a lot of variation and not all genre readers will like or look for the same thing. You might like high fantasy for all I know, or like or dislike certain tropes, so maybe whatever I'd theoretically recommend to you wouldn't click. I can already see that you're very into dragons and fae in your books, whereas I'm much more picky with their depiction. It's for that reason that I'm afraid I won't be providing any titles. If you're looking for a new book to pick up, I think it would be more beneficial to ask someone more familiar with your tastes and/or for you to pick something out for yourself.

I'm sorry if this isn't the answer you were hoping for, but I'm afraid that's all I feel comfortable saying on this matter.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Hiii

I remember when you were posting about your Kim/Wik Twins AU and I was so hooked! There’s so much potential for angst in this AU😩🤌 I always wondered if there was anything new going on with this WIP.

PS: I’ve been following your blog for a little while (I don’t interact bc im shyy) and I love all your Kimchay WIPS and little excerpts you’ve blessed us with (they make my day everytime I see one). So I want to personally thank your brain for all these wonderful ideas and just thank you for being you 😊

send me an ask and I'll tell you about one of these WIPs!

Oh anon, you're a darling! This was so nice to wake up to <3 I actually haven't worked much on that AU since originally posting it, but you're right, there is so much angst potential in this AU between Wik and Kim. One of the inspirations from it actually came from World of Warcraft, and how the character Varian was split into two people, the other one being Lo'Gosh. I really loved how it wasn't just "this is the good side vs. the bad/feral side." Varian was polite and charming and good at socializing, but he was also vain and easy to manipulate (which was the point of splitting him), whereas Lo'Gosh was definitely a barbarian, but he was also all of Varian's strong will and ambition/motivation, and passion. I hadn't seen that kind of character splitting before, because it's usually an easy shorthand for doing a good/evil thing.

So for the purposes of this fic, Kim isn't just all the evil mafia while Wik is the sweetheart singer. Wik is very driven and tbh a little selfish, he's kind to his fans but ultimately very cold, because he grew up in a world where anything he cared about could be used against him. Both of them are still calculating in clever, but it's Wik that begins investigating Chay, intentionally using his stardom as an in, and purposefully manipulating him to get more information. He takes it to a stronger degree than we actually see from Kim in the show.

Whereas Kim is the quieter, more contained side. They both love music but Kim prefers guitar/piano over singing because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself the way Wik does, although he does write a lot of poetry/lyrics. One of the betrayals from Wik leaving is that he stole Kim's songs. The other is that he left Kim behind. He loves his brother more than anything, and Wik leaving him without so much as a goodbye was devastating for him.

Here's your slightly less than 500 words!

“You left me!” “Would you have even come with me?” Kim’s voice breaks on a desperate, “Yes!” He wants to take it back as soon as the word leaves his mouth, too honest in the heat of his moment, chest heaving with the weight of it. The only good thing about the admission is that his brother is too stunned to reply; Kim takes satisfaction in that, in the implication of it, as Wik realizes the depth of his own selfishness.  “Kim…” “I would…” Kim swallows. Days of captivity have left his throat dry. It hurts, speaking these words aloud, tearing them out of his chest to release them after all these years. “I would have. If you asked me to, I would have.”  He would have followed his brother anywhere. They were always meant to be together. Kim and Wik, two halves of the same whole, mirror images down to their names. Until Wik decided he couldn’t bear his own reflection anymore.  “Kim, I’m sorry, I didn’t know—” “How could you? You only ever think about yourself.” Kim laughs. It’s wet. It hurts, like everything else about this damned conversation. Maybe Wik was right; they were better off alone. “I thought you knew me better than anyone, but you don’t know me at all.” Maybe Wik never did. What a horrible time to realize how truly alone he really is.  Wik doesn’t speak for a long time. Neither does Kim, keeping his head bowed and his breaths measured, cracked ribs aching with every rise and fall of his chest. What a cruel joke that the first time they’re sharing a space in years, something Kim has longed for since the day Wik left, and it’s only because someone else has forced them together.  “I don’t think you would ever leave the family,” Wik eventually says, his voice quieter than Kim has ever heard it. “You’re not like me, Kim, you never wanted to leave.” Of course he didn’t. Why would Kim ever want to leave his brothers? But at least if he had, Kinn and Tankhun would have had each other. They wouldn’t have been alone, not like Wik is now. Not like Kim is, forever missing his other half. Neither of them were meant to be alone. "It doesn't matter anymore." "Yes it does. Kim. I never meant to hurt you. I—" But there's no more time to talk because their captors are walking in, and Wik is throwing himself in front of Kim, both of them bound and unable to put of any kind of fight. Not that it would have mattered; Wik already got himself kidnapped. Too nosy to stay out of the family completely, but apparently the idealistic fool didn't bother to keep up with his martial arts. Still. Despite blaming him for the current predicament, Kim is a little bit touched that Wik is trying to protect him now. Too late to matter, maybe, but it's something.

[horrorhot-line]

Last anon is a bhole and a coward. I don’t totally get the changes or like them rly but I can still respect that it’s YOUR blog and YOUR decision to make. Religion is important to some ppl and that’s fine lol.

Ik you already know this bc u said as much in ur reply, but just wanted to reiterate it to you so you know other ppl agree lol.

Also I’ll still stick around if u write non psychic saiki stuff! I’m here for ur writing skill and if anything ur writing is just gonna be more canon-like bc no one knows he has superpowers that’s the point. You’re just writing in universe lol. Lots of other ppl will agree w me, some won’t even notice the difference. Important bit is if this makes you happy you should keep doing it, whether people stick around or not. Plus your writing is good enough that you’ll get new ppl interested in it if you post it, and they’ll not even know about the stuff you wrote before.

I hope this made sense. I had a lot to say and idk if it came out right but Godspeed.

(Also my original ask had much harsher words for the anon but idk if that’s chill for ur posting w ur religion considering the stuff you said that wasn’t. Only mentioning bc I would like the anon to know that.)

what a distinguished gentleman, look at the way- sorry i'll stop with the references, but very demure response i approve

yes everything made sense and i appreciate your message soooo much thank you <33333

also, that's a great way to look at the changes in my story I didn't even think of that, but the first update was more of a means of seeing the opinions of my readers first- i'll have to heavily edit but my freinds to lovers series will be back, with saiki having powers ofc (but i'll have to specify that he isn't all powerful which is canonically true cause his powers have limits so technically not blasphemy) and it'll be a lot of slow burn and silent pining that ends with saiki and reader getting married, (this will also gimme a chance to make the series as gender neutral as possible) so I hope you'll still enjoy the series after I change it but a lot of it will probably stay the same <3333

also I myself don't curse, you're your own person so whatever you do is fine I won't ask you to change your behaviours for me, but I will say that it's very sweet that you stopped yourself from cursing out of respect for me and my beliefs <33333

also this is random but can we be moots? ;-; <333

[oldwritingm]

Could you do Craig and Kyle being protective toward their partner who falls asleep anywhere and everywhere because they have narcolepsy?

Can do buckaroo! I'm very sorry if this is inaccurate, I don't know much about narcolepsy-

South Park - Craig and Kyle with a Partner with Narcolepsy

Craig

The first time he saw you fall asleep randomly, he just kind of stared at you

He poked you, wondering if you were actually asleep

He was so confused when you woke up, blinked, and immediately moved on as if it hadn't happened

When you explained your condition, he just nodded, secretly relieved that there was an explanation behind the incident

After that day he made a point to stay close to you

Whenever you start to doze, he makes sure that you lean on him, in part because he doesn't want you to get hurt, but also because it gives him an excuse to be touching you

He isn't really one to seek physical affection, so this is his sneaky way of getting some

Even if it's just for a few seconds, he appreciates the feeling of your head on his shoulder, your warm breath brushing against his cheek

Waking up on his shoulder always puts a smile on your face

But you know better than to point it out, so you just wordlessly reposition yourself and continue on with your day

If you have trouble sleeping at night, you can always count on him to answer a text or phone call

totally not because he was already awake ((insomniac alert))

Kyle

He was actually able to identify your disorder the first time you fell asleep around him

"Are you narcoleptic or something?"

He was teasing, but immediately accepted you when you confirmed that you were, indeed, narcoleptic

Honestly, he was a little worried

He makes a continuous effort to know everything he can about the disorder so he knows how to help you

He'll always check to make sure you've taken your meds (if you have any), you've eaten, you don't drive alone, etc.

He doesn't mean to fawn over you, he just wants to make sure you're safe

He keeps a close eye on you when in public, rushing to your side if he can see you're about to doze off

He'll wait for you to wake up before letting you know that you fell asleep and asking if you're okay

Afterwards he'll be glued to your side for the next hour MINIMUM

He tries to maintain a somewhat decent sleep schedule, and encourages you to keep up with it as well, always texting you "good morning" and "goodnight" as subtle cues

Unfortunately, he usually won't reply to any texts or calls after his "goodnight" text, but if you try a few times he'll pick up the phone

He'll stay on the phone with you until you fall asleep, but he'll probably fall asleep first

He'd never admit it, but he secretly enjoys those late-night calls

Thank you for reading! And thank you anon for your request, I hope this turned out okay! Take care pumpkins <33

[cute-na-kareshi]

Today’s love is for… Goro!

For day six of sending loving anons to other jirais every day until Christmas I’ve chosen you! I’m staring to get really worried I’ve sent two asks to the same person so from today on I’m going to start writing peoples names at the top and screenshotting before I send. I should have really thought this out beforehand god. Like I feel I’ve already done you before but like I do think you are extra cute. Every jirai deserves ten times my love, pass this affection on to your moots idk (Idm do what you like, feel no obligation to reply to this post in any way, but no one’s don’t that yet and I would really like it, no pressure, sorry)

Remember your scars are as beautiful as you! I don’t want anyone to hurt themselves further, but I must say the stars and hearts thing is so poetic. But it’s also never a requirement, it’s a shame we’re not in a manga and we can’t see the stars and hearts that surround you when you truthfully smile!

(Sorry was that weird or sad or cringe)

I deeply appreciate your popular post mentioning how people might be intimidated by jirais, the way you summarised our community make me feel so welcome. And I heard you think gnc jirais are neat, and though I have no jirai or even cute clothes I do look pretty gnc so I hope it’s good to hear how many of us are out there, like I wanna be trans at some point. Oh and I love a cutesy masc too!

Also the colourful gradient on your texts is so nice to look at, I don’t know how to do it myself. Though I’m sure others do it, yours is consistent and recognisable ig, it’s clear that is you specifically, and it shows what isn’t a reblog when scrolling your blog. Also I love how you’ve been reblogging such pretty things! The whole design of your blog is very nice, what a dear little doll, if you don’t mind me saying :)))))))))))))

Thank you for reading! This was the advent jirai, though it’s not a solid title since no one seems to be aware I’m doing this yet. I’ll still reveal my identity on christmSHOOT WAOT DID I NOT HAVE MYSELF SET AS ANON THIS WHOLE TIME IS THAT WHY NO ONE HAS BEEN RESPONDING OH NO NO NO :((((((((((( sorry uh Thanks for reading!

oh anon . . this is so unfathomably sweet, thank you so much . . to be complimented in such a way by a fellow jirai is an honour, to say the least . . thank you, i'll be forever appreciative of you ♡

ah, thank you so much . . though i often look over older posts and find them a bit stupid, i find that expressing my sorrows in a way that is as eloquent as possible truly does help me rearrange the thoughts running rampant in my head . . . it's an oddly comforting thing, no ? despite not posting pictures of myself on here [a result of not owning any girly kei clothes and being a person succumbing to illness], after seeing the love you've expressed for them, i may rectify that . . ♡ you're not cringey in any sense, don't worry, anon ♡

i believe the post you're talking about was one i made when particularly frustrated by people claiming that jirai kei was a toxic place — though it certainly isn't a community i'd welcome anyone who's stable into, it isn't as inherently bad as people make it out to be . . i'm glad that both that post and the gnc jirai post resonated with you ♡ the happiness of others is in my best interest, after all ♡

i want my gradient text to be a sort of 'trademark' aspect of my blog, if that makes much sense . . . i want to be recognised .! (╥﹏╥) . . though it really isn't as hard as it seems .!! it's just a bit of HTML, which is something i adore . . an internet entity should know how to program at the very least, no ? thank you so much, it truly means the world to me .!!

it's an honour to [hopefully] be the first to reply, anon .! i can't seem to decipher who you are based on typing style alone, sadly . . but i'll definitely remember to send you love once your identity is revealed ♡ you truly are some kind of angel . .

thank you so much for your kind words, anon ♡ they're truly invaluble to me ♡

[yujeong]

potential smut prompt: (as sexual or nonsexual as you like) vegaspete eating food off of each other. it's on brand, c'mon ;)

Hello anon! Again, apologies for the delay in answering this ask, as well as answering the two you sent me backwards, but I was a bit stuck on this one: the idea you gave me is one of my favourites actually, but it was difficult to... express in writing form (the mental images it caused me were very vivid for some reason though lmao). I hope you enjoy this very weird concept and snippet ❤️ I'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you meant when you sent it to me. CW: handjob, unadvised use of ice cream -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was something that should be giving Vegas joy. Instead, it only brought him irritation. "Why do you always eat Macau's leftovers?" The sun was almost hidden, casting hues of orange and red on their exposed bodies. The temperature was high but a gentle wind was blowing, a pleasant change to the previous days spent at Pete's hometown. Pete licked the ice cream twice before replying. "Why not? I like this flavor." "You're not his fucking dog!" Vegas had clearly been sitting on the wooden dock for too long; that must be the reason he was acting like a child right now. Pete grew rigid before he relaxed again next to him, continuing to eat his treat seemingly without care, letting it melt all over his fingers. "You made a mess of yourself," Vegas said then, grabbing Pete's wrist to bring the cone closer to his mouth. He licked Pete's index finger clean in a hurry, before the drop of vanilla could go lower, and that was when he realized the change. He felt Pete suck in a shallow breath before he heard it. He lifted his gaze to see Pete's eyes focused on him, his lips parted, his pupils dilated. He was too easy to read sometimes. Vegas couldn't help but smirk as he continued; he moved on to Pete's middle finger, then his ring finger, then his pinky, slowly, interchanging between using his lips and his tongue, savoring the taste of sugar and Pete's skin, staring at Pete's expression crumbling under his desire the whole time. The desire for more. Vegas would never deny him. With his right hand being free, he swiftly grabbed Pete's dick under his swimsuit, bathing in the delight of finding him half-hard already. "Vegas..." "The sun is almost down. We won't be seen." It wasn't a certainty and both of them knew it, but Vegas didn't really care. All that was important right now was giving Pete what he craved. He could have jerked Pete off dry just fine - they'd done that before plenty of times - but something about that ice cream melting all over Pete was tantalizing. It made Vegas want it to cover more than just Pete's hand. "Let's use some of that," he told Pete who blinked in confusion, whose mouth opened even more when he figured out what Vegas was doing with his palm, before he shoved it under his swimsuit again. Pete came quickly after a couple of strokes, panting and smiling and laughing at Vegas who was starting to feel a little gross with the mess he'd made. "It's your fault for being a clumsy eater," Vegas said, unable to drop his own smile. He was feeling good. His body hadn't betrayed him yet; the beach was right there for them to clean themselves up later if they wanted to. For now, he was content kissing Pete breathless as he dropped the rest of the ice cream and became very eager to return the favor.

[bonesandthebees]

Hi again Bee.

Thank you for lending an ear to listen even if I just kinda showed up. I really appreciate it. I've actually been reading through some of your other stories and they're very good (I adore the fae works!).

When it comes to Wilbur, I'm just. Very disappointed and upset. Of course I support Shubble and am glad she spoke out, it's very important and I'm glad that it's encouraged others to come forward with their own stories of abuse at the hands of large creators. At the same time though part of me wishes she hadn't said anything, so I could have continued as I was, in blissful ignorance, even if I feel really guilty for thinking like that.

It just saddens me that someone I looked up to so much ended up being this horrible person. It makes me worried that I too am bad, that somehow he has imprinted his awfulness unto me. I used to be horrible too. I like to think I've grown as a person, I was only a kid, but have I? Or was being drawn to Wilbur a sign? Like attracting like?

Y'know, I used to say that my hair style goals were how Wilbur's hair is, and recently I got a haircut. When I took a shower earlier it ended up floofing up in a similar way to his. I don't know how to feel about that. Maybe I should style it differently, even though I like the floof. I don't want to be even a little reminiscent of an abuser.

I am reminiscent of him though, in ways I can't change. I used to feel so seen by him, we're both song writers, and hypochondriacs, and I wanted to be him so badly I would cry. I would cry because he was everything I desperately craved to be as an insecure transmasc, an attractive guy with a beautiful voice and an amazing life. And now he's horrible, and probably always has been, and all of my memories of him are tainted.

I hate that I can't listen to Lovejoy anymore. It feels unfair to the other band members. It isn't their fault Wilbur is awful, and yet I'm taking away a source of their income. I know I'm taking away from Wilbur too, but he's only one person out of the group. Maybe that's just me giving an excuse so that I won't have to stop enjoying their music. It doesn't matter, I can't stomach listening to them anymore anyways.

I keep getting songs from YCGMA stuck in my head. It's like now that I can't listen to it anymore my brain has decided to fuck with me by making me listen to it anyways. I can't even justify listening to that album, that's just Wilbur's music. I was going to cover a song from that album for fun. Now I can't.

Is it bad I still find comfort in Wilbur as a character? C!Tommy is my favorite, but C!Wilbur is almost always a huge part of any C!Tommy story and I love C!Wilbur stories too. I know C! ≠ CC! but I just. It's complicated.

Idek why I'm this upset. I haven't been an avid watcher of anyone in the DSMP in at least over a year. If anything this whole thing has brought me back into the fandom more than I have been in ages. I feel bad about that, but also this situation has introduced me to people like Aimsey, whose content I'm seeing more of and I find myself enjoying.

I've also found more great DSMP fics lately in my quest to binge read them before the mass deletions start. Is it bad to find good things in a bad situation?

I'm sorry for the lack of put togetherness and the length of this ask. I promise I'm usually more coherent and to the point.

-Tech (just call me Tech like a name, "tech anon" feels weird heh)

hey tech, sorry for a bit of a late reply I've been busy the past few days

(sorry about the 'tech anon' thing, it's just a habit since that's how I refer to most of my anons. I'm going to still tag your ask as tech anon though just for my tagging system if that's okay)

I'm so glad you like the fae stories!! I'm still so proud of both of those looking back on them

anyway, yeah, I get that. I get the guilty wish that none of this had ever come out so you could just continue to go on in blissful ignorance. when someone learns something very upsetting, it's only natural to feel like you wish you never learned that. you don't need to feel guilty for that. you're not a bad person for your emotional reactions to things. your actions are what matters.

also, you are in no way a bad person because you were drawn to wilbur's content. the persona wilbur put on for the internet was not representative of who he actually was. you were drawn to the facade. an illusion of the person wilbur could've been, if he actually practiced the things he preached. you said you used to be a bad person, but you've changed. the fact that you are worried at all that you might still be bad shows a level of self-awareness and concern that wilbur apparently did not have. because wilbur was aware he was a bad person and treated the people around him terribly, but he didn't care to try and be better. as long as you're trying to be better, you're already leagues ahead of him.

also, regarding the hair, the floofy fringe is an incredibly common haircut. that is not exclusive to wilbur soot. you do not look like him if your hair does the floof similarly to his, it just makes you look like thousands of other dudes with fluffy fringe.

the day after shelby first streamed I had an MSR song stuck in my head and I hated it so much. it really sucks. you just have to try and drown it out with other music

it's not hypocritical at all to still find comfort in c!wilbur. I know it's complicated, and there's so much discussion I could get into as to why it's so complicated, but we can all separate the guy and the character in our heads. there's no reason to feel guilty about that. and there's also nothing bad about finding good in this situation. I think it's really sweet that you've found so many great fics in this time and I'm so glad you've been getting comfort from them. you're appreciating the authors hard work and that's a good thing! you don't need to feel bad about that

I hope you're doing okay tech

[ma3mae]

Love has no bounds!

Summary: Obstacle after obstacle refuse to let you and your beloved knight love each other in peace. So how do the both of you handle the biggest hurdle that has ever arrived?

Genre: fluff, angst :((( bit drama too :( also a bit smexy

Warnings: heartwreck 😭 legit teared up writing this 😭 also it gets very steamy at the end HEUEH

A/N: IM SORRY, ANON!! accidentally deleted the ask bc i posted it even tho i wanted to put it in drafts :') hope you'll see this tho!! Also only a tiny bit proofread, oops

Knight!Suehiro Tetchou

"Please, Princess! You mustn't delay your reply any longer!"

Hurried footsteps following your every move, various attempts in shacking the neighbouring empire's messenger off simply failing.

"I have already replied plenty of times and my answer remains the same!"

Turning around the corner, you hurriedly kept making your way towards your room, wanting nothing but peace.

Where the hell are the knights when you need them?!

"And stop following me already! I have been courteous enough to ignore your disrespect towards me but maybe I'd have to cut your tounge off after all!"

A hand clasping your wrist stopping you in the middle of the hall, the booming voice of your mother behind your form, echoing through the empty hallway.

"Stop with your tantrum already! That behavior is more than unbefitting of a princess!This is more than just about you. You could endanger this whole empire thanks to your foolishness!"

Deep breath, Y/N.

Deep breath.

"Why can't they just take one of my many siblings, huh?! There's a reason why you've got so many of them. Isn't it, Mother? Why must it be me, who gets married off to some tyrant who probably kills his wives off after having fulfilled their purpose as a simple birthing machine. "

A scoff is the only answer you got before feeling frail fingers grab your jaw and forcefully turning your head, seething eyes locking onto yours.

"I have been too lenient on you after all. Letting you take in sword lessons on the knight training grounds even though that is highly unbecoming of a princess. Yet your fool of a father remained stubborn, saying that a bit of self defense wouldn't hurt you. Or how you'd sometimes randomly sneak out at night, only to return at ungodly hours and miss your morning lessons. But I let you do it because I thought that maybe it would be good to let you enjoy your freedom while you can."

Wincing as the grip on your jaw tightened, she leaned in closer, her voice turning into a mere whisper, yet it only frightened you more.

"But as it seems, I've let it get over your head. That is my responsibility and you will remain so until you have joined that Emperor's side. Till then, I suppose a bit of time at home should suffice as a lesson to get your head straight."

Disbelief surging though your very core. Shaking your head at her words only seemed to spur her further into abusing her power over you again and again.

"Will you just stop solving your problems by merely showing off your power, please?!"

"If it helps correcting your ways, then yes."

"You can't just-!"

"Knights! Put the princess back to her chambers!"

As if on cue, two knights blocked your view of your mother, them putting their hands onto each of your arms.

"Please, Princess. Let us take you to your chambers."

You could hear the pleading voice of one of the knights, their grip only tightening slightly as they noticed the sharp gaze of the queen behind their backs.

"And make sure she stays in there."

With a huff you let them take you back, mind already formulating a plan on how to avoid being married off to your inevitable death.

.

.

.

Night time had arrived.

A light breeze greeting you under the moonlight, a slight shiver running through your body as you sat down onto the railing of your balcony.

"Isn't it a bit cold for you, Princess?"

A soft voice accompanied the night's wind, making your heart leap at it's sound.

Gazing down from your spot, you couldn't help but return the smile from him.

"If it concerns you so much then why not protect me from it? It is your job after all."

He merely blinked at your words, a question rising in his head.

"Is that an order?"

Tilting your head at his question, he could see the amusement dance in your eyes as a cheeky tone accompanied your reply.

"If you want it to be then yes."

With the help of a convenient placed large tree reaching your balcony, it only took mere seconds for him to reach you.

You let him approach you, admiring how the gentle light of the moon illuminated his beauty underneath it.

Eyes like the morning sun looking into yours as he took your hand into his, lifting the back of it onto his mouth before pressing his soft lips against it.

"I greet you, my princess."

Chuckling at his habit, you welcomed the warmth it brought onto your face.

"You don't have to greet me like that when we're alone, Tetchou."

He merely hummed at your words as he intertwined your hands together.

"But I like the feeling of my lips on your hands."

"I know you do."

A comforting silence accompanied the night as he sat down next to you.

Leaning your head onto his shoulder, you were glad for the lack of armor at times like these, knowing full well you'd be the only one to see him like this aside from the other knights.

Slowly but surely, you felt a lump form in your throat as you thought about the events of earlier.

The shaky exhale and tightened grip around his hand were enough for him to confirm his concerns, remembering the gossip of his knight companions inside the barracks.

"The princess seemed pretty distraught earlier. I think you might want to visit her later, Suehiro. Not like you'd do it anyway but I think she needs a shoulder."

"Why, what happened? Did she get into a fight with the Empress again?"

His companion and good friend, Tatchihara could only shake his head in frustration.

"Ugh, yes but this time it was worse. Had to drag her off to her room by her Empress's orders. Honestly a surprise that she hasn't run away yet because I definitely woul- OW HEY?!"

"Utter these words louder and you can kiss your life as a knight goodbye. Or your life in general."

Glaring at the redhead, he hissed at the feeling of a forming bump on his head.

"Yeah but it's the truth! Imagine you'd be married off to that mass murderer of a emperor in that shitty empire of his!"

Freezing at the words of his friend, he could only watch the interaction in shock, Tachihara seemingly not noticing his reaction.

Tetchou flinched at the sudden hand on his shoulder, yet the familiar ringing of a bell telling him who it was.

"If you're already gonna badmouth him then do it properly by stating it's correct name."

"You want me to be all fancy and refer to it as" Night Wandering Empire?" Nah, shove that up your ass. We call it" Port-shit" in the barracks for a reason."

Scoffing at the know it all attitude of his colleague, he slinged his bag over his shoulder and made his way towards the door, ready to hit the bed after vigorous training.

Tetchou didn't fail to see the sympathetic glance towards him before the shut of the door ripped him out of his thoughts.

"He really needs to work on his temper but I can understand his anger. Just thinking about the country run by such a barbaric man already leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I don't know how the people can follow a man who has killed his way onto the throne." The king died of an illness"? Give me a break. "

"I have to go."

Quickly taking his bag, he made his way towards the door, not caring to even glance at his friend. His mind too focused on one thing.

"And what are you gonna do? Whisk her away like the shining knight you're supposed to be? You know that there's no escaping it. You'll get caught from both sides. Either the Empress will banish you or that lunatic Emperor Osamu might just kill you and declare war on us after all."

The only answer he got was the slam of the door, a sigh merely escaping his lips as he frowned.

"What an idiot. He'll get himself killed before he knows it. His skill has been helping him this far but against two empires? He'll be dead for sure."

"Just let him be, Jouno. You know how important the princess is to him. She saved him after all."

"Doesn't mean he's got to gamble with his life like that. He knew what was coming yet still couldn't stop wearing his heart on his sleeve. Don't even know how he was able to survive that long om his own..."

The grip on the strap of his bag tightened as he stood infront of the door. Refusing to listen it any further, he made his way.

He knew he was just worried for him. Rightfully so.

He knew of everything. The consequences, the already existing conflict betweent the two empires.

Yet how could he let it be?

How could they just ask of him to let it be?

Wasn't the world already cruel enough?

'Just thinking of that king would leave a bad taste in his mouth'?

What was he supposed to say?

Every time he thought about it, he could feel his inside twisting and turning, his mind turning mushy and his breath stuck in his throat.

It didn't help that he knew that he was the only one who refused to let this happen.

He knew that your crafty mind would come up with a plan and he didn't care how bad it might end up.

He'll do anything if it means he'll be able to spend the rest of his life with you.

He'll forever be knight to protect and love you, just like now.

So as he gently cups your face to look into your with tears glistening eyes, he asks.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

A nod from you is enough to bring a smile on his face.

You let him wrap his arms around you, his smell reminiscing of his training.

Training to be stronger like he had sworn to become.

To protect the people of this country.

Yet ultimately, to protect you from anything that might harm you.

His embrace never failed to convey that promise, he had made years ago.

And it never failed to not make the tears run down your cheeks as he'd always be there to wipe them away.

Just like now.

"I'll help you. Anything that's in your way, I'll remove it. I won't stop until all of your worries are gone and until you're happy."

Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you couldn't stop the tremble in your voice.

"What if I'm only happy when I'm with you?"

"Then I'll make sure to be with you. Even after death, I'll be there."

The dam broke inside you, the waterworks unable to stop as the first sob unwillingly escapes your body.

Yet the lips on the crown of your head and the tightening of his arms, only spurred you further into letting everything out.

"I-I don't want to marry him. I really don't! Why is it that everyone won't let us be together?! Why do I have to be the one?! So many of my sisters and yet my mother chose me?! I've done everything to not be chosen and yet! And yet!"

"I know, Y/N. I know."

You felt him gently rock you back and forth, the sobs only slowly but surely subsiding after what seemed like hours.

"You don't have to hold back. If you aren't done with crying then don't stop."

Reeling in from your breakdown, you shook your head.

"I-I can't. If we want to get out then I'll have to get it together. The sooner we get out of here, the better."

Lifting your head, a wave of embarassement came over you as the stain on his collar was clesrly visible even as the clouds covered the moon.

"Are you in need of a new shirt?" You sheepishly asked as you wipes the tears away with the sleeves of your nightgown.

"No, it's alright. A wet shirt is nothing compared to the burden you carry. Also..."

He took your hands into his as he put them on each side of his face, letting them cup it in the end.

"You shouldn't rub your eyes so hard or else they might get itchy."

He mirrored the beautiful smile that etched itself onto your face at his yet as always caring words.

"I know you'd still find me beautiful even if they were red from all my crying but I'd still like to avoid that."

"If that's your wish then so be it."

You felt his grip on your hands tighten as his gaze held a serious look in them.

"If you wish to escape then it is best be done as soon as we can. Just like you said."

"How do we know for sure it will work? My mother knows about my random escapes at night. There will be more knights stationed around the gates."

"Then we'll find another way. The bigger the place, the more escape routes there will be."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, reminiscing of the time before he had become your knight.

"I keep forgetting that you actually used to be a thief."

"I only stole from bad pe-"

Pecking his lips, you gazed into his eyes, feeling the heat on your hands as the warmth spread across his face by your sudden action.

"I know, I know. You only stole from bad people and gifted your stole goods to the poor ones. Just like Robin Hood."

You felt him tilt his head at your words.

"But I'm more good looking than him. Atleast that is what you said."

"These were indeed my words and now I'll let this thief take me away, just like I'm taking him away. And it will all happen-"

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

Smiling at your words, you sealed the deal as you pulled his face closer to yours, letting your lips lock and enjoy the warmth of each other.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he hooked his arm under your legs and one to steady your back, successfully sweeping you into his embrace as he walked towards your bed.

Roughly shoving off his boots, you soon felt the soft mattress hit your back, the yelp escaping you making him deepen the kiss as he slid his tounge in.

You could feel the heat build rise between your bodies as he let out a groan at the taste of your mouth and slid his knee between your legs, pushing it against your very core, a wet patch already forming in mere seconds.

Slowly the need for air became stronger for the both of you, making him to be the first to break the kiss.

Forehead against forehead, his gaze bore into your eyes as your flushed faces and the knee rubbing against your spot didn't help to calm you both down at all.

"Shouldn't we sleep to have enough energy for tomorrow?"

A smile made its way onto your flushed face, as even intense moments such as these never stopped him from not putting your wellbeing first.

"We've got enough time and more importantly, this could be the last time we'd get to enjoy it on such a nice bed like this."

"Then only a little."

He spoke before letting his lips trail from your face down to your neck, gently sucking on your plush skin as he let one hand knead the soft flesh of your body, worshipping it's every curve and promising through his touch to mark every inch of your body.

"Only a little." was your only reply, fully knowing that was the only promise he'd always be willing to break for you.

That night marked the beginning of your freedom with danger lurking ahead but at the end of the day, you knew you'd be safe.

Just as much he'd make sure to protect you, you'd make sure to do it as well.

Because tomorrow would be the day.

Tomorrow would mark the death of the Princess and the birth of you.

Y/N.

DAMN, this got long but if this gets some good reactions then i'd def make a part 2 of this <3

[thursdayinspace]

20 questions for 20 writers

tagged by @thatfragilecapricorn30 @randomfoggytiger and @baronessblixen thank you!! <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 21

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 70.063 -- this is my new AO3, so that's why it's still so low, haha.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Only X-Files now.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? spectacular (glasses sex!), it's the day the world didn't end, from this morning forward (that makes me so happy), got you covered, wild side

5. Do you respond to comments? yes. if I ever don't, I'm sorry, it's not because i didn't love your comment, but i just don't get around to it right away sometimes. but i try to reply to every single one because i love them all.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ohhh. i don't write super angsty endings . . . I guess mend into pieces bc it's season 2 and they know they're making a mistake, but we all know they'll figure it out eventually, so.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? they pretty much all end happily. i'm going to more or less randomly pick five ways to say i love you. because i loved writing that ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? so, okay. there are two stories here i want to tell from an old fandom. one is funny. one is kind of great, really?

the funny one: i got a looooong comment on a fic, like several paragraphs long, going into great detail about why the fic sucked and why i sucked and why i had personally offended them by writing fic at all. they obvs meant to comment anonymously but forgot to log out. by the time i got to my computer, they had deleted their entire account. of course i had their name in the ao3 email. i laughed so hard at that.

the kind of amazing one: i got a very rude anon on tumblr, and i responded by saying i'd be happy to discuss their criticism, but i wasn't going to have a conversation with a hockey puck with sunglasses, and asked them to come off anon so we could talk. and they did! they showed up in my dms a short while later. we solved nothing and did not part as friends, but i actually have mad respect for that. wherever they are today, i hope they have taken some anger management classes and are doing well!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? yeah, i certainly do. idk what kind? the porny kind? lol no i mean it's kind of lame but fun.

10. Do you write crossovers? i wrote a stargate atlantis/firefly crossover centuries ago but that was it. or maybe start trek with sth else, i don't remember.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? i don't think so, no.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? yes! it's so much fun and i would do it again.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? mulder and scully!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? i plan to finish all of them.

16. What are your writing strengths? it used to be dialogue but i don't think it is anymore. idk? i think i can create an atmosphere?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i tend to repeat myself a lot and then skip over other things completely. i'm not good with transitions between scenes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i haven't done it, but if it would make sense for a fic, i might do it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? stargate atlantis. i was very late to the fanfic party.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? it's called 'ellipsis' and is still with the beta. but of the ones i've already posted, either from this morning forward or yesterday's future.

Randomfoggytiger added additional questions:

1. Is writing a hobby or way of life? i mean it's a hobby but it's definitely also a way of life. there isn't ever a time when i don't think about writing and everything all the time connects in some way to a thing i'm writing and i can't imagine what i'd do without writing.

2. A journal full of writing notes or a clean, completed manuscript? completed manuscript! or notes? uhh . . . both?

3. Who (or what) is your writing inspiration? everything. random things. i can't think of one specific thing, it can be literally anything.

4.Which is worse: someone you "idolize" reading your first draft or listening to you sing? both thoughts are equally awful lol

5. Has writing from someone else's POV ever changed your own perspective? yeah, i think so. not in any big way, but about smaller stuff, just the way i look at certain things? yes.

6. Tumblr, AO3, LiveJournal, or FFN? ao3!!! my tinkerbell brain loves the comment section, haha. also it's just so much nicer to read on ao3 and there's the download option, so also as a reader, def ao3.

7. AO3 wordcount, and are you satisfied with it? 70.063 - no, i'm not satisfied with it. i used to write multi-chapters with more words. but it's a new account so yeah starting small again.

8. What movie/book/fic gripped you irrevocably? jasper fforde's 'thursday next' series. it's where i stole my name from. literary detectives? oh man. it's the kind of story where you wish you'd had the idea first. go read it!!!!!

9. What's the highest compliment you could ever be given, and have you been given it? i am really really lucky to have been given so many amazing compliments and i appreciate every single one. i couldn't say what means the most to me . . . probably when it's personal to the commenter? when someone tells me sth i've written touched them in some way. bc that's what i want to achieve.

10. What defines your writing style? lol idek man pretentious purple prose? i think i live somewhere between overuse of metaphors and focus on the rhythm of a text. i love writing in english bc it flows so nicely. idk is trying to make it sound nice a style bc then that's at least what i'm going for.

who hasn't been tagged? no pressure tags for @backintimeforstuff @nachosncheezies @actual-changeling and everybody else who wants to!