#but I won’t say this is necessarily easy for her to admit~

[lightlycareless]

Valentine's day '24 special — pt. 2

sequel to this.

Heya everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, you will not believe what happened to me 💀 I was intending to upload this much earlier, but by some strange reason my neighborhood just didn't have electricity anymore—for hours. BUT It's finally back, and with it, the second part of my valentine's day special :>

I won't say much, except that the whole plot turned to be quite different than what I envisioned; will I say I didn't like it? No, I feel like it was according to the character's personality and such, very... teenage awkwardness 😂🤭

Anyways, I won't say much anymore, outside of the warnings: highschool au. no major ones. angst. a jealous/possessive naoya.

Without further a do, happy reading, and happy valentine's day!

taglist: @sureconfused

You weren’t the only one excited for this day, by far, albeit for other… reasons.

Made into a well-kept secret, Naoya, heir of the Zen’in, was impatiently waiting for the day he’d effectively label himself as the best catch there ever was—

And win your affection.

Although he’ll have to admit that achieving this feat wasn’t all too easy as he once expected, less with the unwanted advancements valentine’s day brought upon.

Was it a matter of not getting chocolates? Even with his reputation, he still managed to bag a few. Naoya was handsome and rich after all, things that didn’t necessarily need to intertwine with a good personality in order for someone to like him. One has to be blind for that!

The problem here was that none of the gifts he got that day belonged to you, and that put him in a very, very bad mood.

More so when learning that Geto was the one stealing his rightful spot.

“How come he got chocolates from her, and not me?!” Naoya would cry to his best friend, Ranta, as soon as classes were over. The poor kid, although miles away and safeguarded by the other side of the line, still recoiled in surprise by his tone. “What, suddenly I’m not good enough for Y/N?!”

“I wouldn’t say that necessarily, Naoya.” Ranta attempts to comfort him, whatever he can through his friend’s frantic state anyways. “From what you told me, Geto is really popular, right?”

“I’m popular too.” Naoya quickly responds.

«But not for the right reasons» Ranta holds his tongue from saying, instead, he sighs.

“Just take it as what it was—a popular guy getting chocolates; that’s all. He must’ve gotten a thousand, he probably didn’t even notice.”

Damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t. Naoya is quickly irritated by the notion of your efforts being disregarded.

“I would’ve noticed!”

“Then do it.” Ranta says, Naoya frowns, confused. “White day is next month; it’ll be the perfect moment to let her know of your feelings!”

“What?—no. She has to come to me.” He corrected, Ranta does his best to not groan out of exasperation.

“Naoya, have you even spoken to her, outside of jujutsu stuff?”

Nope. Not at all. And yet, Naoya already envisioned you’d be the one he’d marry.

“Then start by something simple.” Ranta continues. “A letter telling her your feelings and how you’d like to know her better can go a long way.”

“But I don’t—men aren’t supposed to do that.”

“Well, what you won’t, maybe Geto will.”

“…I dare you to say that in front of my face.”

Ranta knows he’ll live to regret it later, but honestly, it was the only way he could get Naoya to actually do something about this growing infatuation he’d long determined to be more than a mere attraction.

He’s never seen his friend so… whipped for anyone before, ever, to the point of spending most, if not all, of their conversations talking about her.

There was even a moment where Ranta felt like he was unwittingly third wheeling, and they weren’t even dating yet!

But putting that aside, this could be a positive influence on Naoya’s life too. Perhaps you could soften his edges or make him a better person! —The way his mood improves whenever you’re in his mind is something he could get used to.

Except this time, of course, but that’s within reason (even for Ranta, Naoya’s jealousy still adds up.)

So, after the right motivation (or more like threat), Naoya begins to write down the perfect letter to demonstrate his feelings and intentions with you.

Or tries to.

Naoya has never considered himself particularly the best when it came to showing vulnerability, even though he’s taken countless classical literature courses many would’ve assumed amounted to something—

But like a true man in love, the things he once impossible were nothing but small hindrances along the way.

And soon, here he is, letter in hand as he heads over to the small booth Mei Mei set up for her stupid Cupid Mail thing she set up or whatever she called it—coincidentally, the perfect way to deliver his missive.

Because obviously, beneath his exuberant overconfidence, Naoya is actually very, very shy when it comes to approaching you.

“Off to confess your feelings for darling Y/N?” Mei Mei asks with a sly smirk that passes undetected to him, ass well as her words, once arriving.

“Yes, I ought to before anyone—wait, where did you even get that—”

“I have my ways.” She interrupts. But to anyone with eyes, it was nothing less than obvious. “Anyways, you know my price when it comes to keeping secrets.”

It’s not the first time he’s used her services, and it seems it wouldn’t be the last either.

“Whatever—just—send this letter for me. To Y/N.”

“Hmm… it’ll be ¥1500 please.”

“To send a letter?!” he cries. “What are you going to do, have it signed by the emperor??”

“No, but for people that already have lots of letters piled up, I tend to charge an extra fee—and an additional one if you want it to be first in line.”

“…what?” Naoya breathes.

“What? Thought you were the only one that liked her?” she snickers.

“What do you mean she has piled up letters?” Naoya asks, and having to repeat her words made his heart sink further into his stomach. “From who?!”

“That’s confidential, Zen’in-san.” Mei Mei discloses. “I can’t risk the identity of my clients—”

“How much do you want?” He counters; not buying her sudden righteousness, not even for a second.

“¥100,000”

“Fine, just—”

“Per letter.”

Naoya’s eye twitches at the outrageous bank statement he’d later have to defend before his family.

But even then, he feels no regret when it comes to knowing who could be having the upper hand against him and seize it.

“Here—take whatever you want but let me see who’s sending her letters.”

Mei Mei grins once Naoya sends her a money transfer equivalent to the 15 people that had written out their feelings for you (allegedly), happily obliging when handing over the missives for his open scrutiny, alongside some silly gifts that made him wonder if he also should’ve gotten you something more than just a paper.

However, that thought doesn’t last longer than a few seconds when his eyes fall on the names of the senders. The familiarity of one catching his attention to the fullest, blood running cold upon acknowledging the depth of your relationship with him, and what this could mean for his own advances.

Nanami.

Your proclaimed best friend…

Had sent you a letter, because more likely, he liked you.

…

Naoya didn’t bother to ask Ranta for advice for he already knew what to do. Or at least what his heart was pushing him to commit.

“She’s quite the popular one, isn’t she? Must be because of her siblings—”

“How much to not send anything to her?”

“Oh.” Mei Mei’s eyes glinted with greed and surprise. Although her interest mostly dwelled on the first. “Don’t tell me the great Naoya Zen’in is feeling threatened.”

Or more like afflicted.

“Just tell me how much. And so no one else can send her anything either.”

She smiles—Mei Mei couldn’t believe it was that easy to hit jackpot, but she won’t complain.

“A million.”

“Done.”

“Are you still sending the letter?” she still asks, shamelessly, as if she hadn’t just secured her living for the foreseeable future.

“Yes.”

Although not by itself anymore.

Understanding the sensibility in which he’d greatly miscalculated the intervention of others, Naoya rushes to make himself stand out by all means possible, as well as show just how strong his determination was to be with you.

Thus, the plushies he heard were of your liking, your favorites, or simply reminded him of you, soon began to make their way to him, settling the first foundations of the boxes he was to send you.

Alongside the sweets he’s seen you bring along for lunch, either through the nearest vending machine or gifted from your siblings and friends—didn’t matter how, just that you loved them.

To add a twist, jewelry was also included. Ones he thought would look great on you, both representing a piece of his immeasurable wealth, and his undying affection for you.

And lastly, but not least, roses. Flowers that were prided on for their beauty and significance, the perfect way to profess one’s feelings and cement them as real—he found no personal use behind them, not when he thought you much more alluring, but if necessary…

Amongst the other gifts Mei Mei managed to sneak in, like a true visionaire, for her financial gain.

Down to the smallest detail, everything was intricately planned for White Day to unfold: yes, even their tardy arrival.

The reason why Naoya chose the end of the day to deliver his countless gifts was simply because he thought he’d make a greater impression this way, give you something to think about after a long day of boring work and once back in your room.

To keep your mind completely on him, wondering who was attentive enough to bless you with all these gestures…

And of course, making you smile, cheeks flustered and face beaming in the same beautiful way that always mesmerized him—just like now.

“I… I can’t believe it.” You’d whisper to yourself while overlooking your gifts one more time; gaze lost in the ocean of sweets, flowers, and jewelry alike. There were just too many, you simply didn’t know where to start!

Or how to take them with you.

“I, uh… I think I’m going to need help to move them to my dorm” you say, eyes circling back to Mei Mei. “Do you think you can—oh.”

But she was already gone, possibly to complete more of her money-hungry schemes, such as convincing Satoru to spend more money on Suguru, or scam an innocent, unsuspecting student to confess their feelings to their crush, whom she knows has no chance with, via her postal service, or not. Mei Mei was always a mystery.

What was not a mystery, was the unwitting companionship she left you behind with, an astonished crowd slowly surrounding you the moment the first gift graced your hands, all in a similar state of disbelief, if not jealousy—

Alongside a fascinated admirer.

“Oh, how am I going to move all this—”

“Let me help you.” Keeping a close eye at a distance, Naoya sees this opportunity as his moment, and steps in.

“Naoya!” You gasp, startled by his unexpected appearance, a rare occurrence unless it involved sorcery manners, or Satoru. “I didn’t see you get here, where did you come from?”

“My class just finished, and I was heading back to the dorms.” He explains—a blatant lie, considering the teacher didn’t show up because of a date, or so many theorized. “What’s with all the gifts?”

“I know, right? Can you believe they’re all for me??” you bubbled—grabbing on the compliment bait he’d thrown. “But they don’t come with a sender.”

“Really? How weird…” Naoya plays along, wanting to hear more of your enthusiastic praises. “You don’t think it’s from a creep or something, right?”

“I don’t to think so... I don’t want to think it was.” You say, twisting your lips in concern. Naoya then quietly scolds himself for foolishly planting the seed of doubt in your mind. “Anyways, I thought it was sweet.”

As if he couldn’t fall more in love with you. Naoya smiles.

“I’m glad you did.”

For the slightest of seconds, you press your brows together, finding his words to be a bit odd, if not contradictory, to his previous statement—almost as if he were somewhat involved.

“Thanks…?”

“So…” Naoya says, walking over to one of the many baskets and picking them up. “What do you think of this?”

Even when finding his sudden interest odd, since he never struck you as the kind of person to care about these “silly” (his words) situations, you agree to indulge him only because he’s helping you.

And because this is so in-your-face, you really couldn’t blame him for being curious.

“About the gifts?” You ask.

Guess the weird part of it is that he’s insisting so much. Wasn’t your previous answer enough?

“Yeah.”

“Well, I told you; it was sweet.” You repeat, leading him towards your dorm. “And even though the mystery surrounding the sender adds a layer of romanticism to these gifts, I really want to know who did it.”

“For what?” Naoya pushes forward—all because in his mind, he thinks you’ve now unknowingly fallen for him too, and wants to confirm it.

“Oh, uh—I’m just curious! I mean, I’m human, you know?” you explain with a chuckle. “Don’t you feel the same way when this happens?”

Then, something in your mind clicked.

“No—Naoya, don’t tell me you didn’t get anything?!” you gasp.

«From the one I want, no.» he wishes to say, but it felt redundant to do so.

“I didn’t ask that.” Naoya responds instead, words that sting you, although not so much anymore, since you’ve long accepted that he can be quite… crude when he doesn’t want to talk about something.

“…Sorry.” You murmur, moving forward. Something so nice shouldn’t be ruined by his inability to socialize like a normal human being. “But… yeah, I guess I’m just curious. I mean, I’ve never gotten so many things like this before, it almost feels like I’m undeserving!”

“You’re not.”

You frown once again—why is he acting so weird, today, of all days?

“Well, at least I won’t have to buy sweets for a long time now.” You say with a smile, already savoring the delicacies before you. “Although the mochi are not making it past today! How did they even know taro was my favorite?”

And there was still one last thing for you to see—his letter.

Naoya was planning on giving it to you once arriving at your dorm, but your excitement, alongside your beautiful beaming smile, and your glistening eyes, pushed him to act now.

“Y/N.” Naoya says, a stern tone that makes you stop and turn around.

“Hm?”

“…What would you do if I… told you I knew who sent all these gifts?”

“You do?” you breathe. His heart clenches with longing.

“Hypothetically.” Naoya says. Even if he’s absolutely confident he wants to do this, there’s still a part of him, although very small, that fills him with hesitance. He can’t be judged for wanting to be cautious, right?

“Oh, well, if that’s the case… I’d like to thank him first.” You respond. “Although a bit exaggerated, it was still the nicest gesture I’ve gotten in a while. And it definitely made my day! I was just about to head to my room to whine about not getting anything, haha! Anyways… what I mean to say is, I’d like to thank them and… maybe even get to know them bett—”

“Me.” Naoya says without further precedent, you blink.

“What?”

“Me. It was me. I sent the gifts.” He reiterated, through the sudden knot forming in his throat and the rising heat of his cheeks.  “I’m the one you want to thank. The one that sent everything: from the box in your hands, to the rest of the things in your dorm.”

Naoya was wholeheartedly expecting you to glee and cheer now that the revelation was, open the door for the relationship he envisioned would begin from this day forward…

And not your following reaction.

“That’s—that’s a good one, Naoya!” You laugh nervously. “You almost got me there!”

If he didn’t know any better, it would seem you were attempting to hide disappointment. And your once dreamy laughter became his absolute nightmare.

“I’m not joking.” Naoya justifies, growing defensive of what little dignity he had left.

“Oh…” murmur, chuckle slowly subsiding while opening way to your true emotions, filling you with tension at the one outcome he never considered palpable.

“Were you expecting someone else?” He dares to ask, with an accusatory tone that lets you know you’ve stung a nerve.

And as much as honesty seemed to be the most intimidating path to take, it was still the right one.

“I—I mean… yeah.” You anxiously admit, his frown deepens.

“So, what? Even with my gifts, I’m still not good enough for you?”

“What? No! That’s not it, Naoya!” Your voice trembles—regretful for the misinterpretation of your words; but truth to be told, there was no amount of assertiveness that could’ve mended Naoya’s slowly breaking heart.

“Then what is it?” influenced by a thousand reasons, he goes with the most hurtful one. “It’s someone else, isn’t it? Was it Nanami?”

“What does he have to do with anything?” you cautioned.

“Nothing.” He rushes to cover, thankfully for him, you seem to drop the subject all together. “Why does it seem so shocking I got you these things? Weren’t you say how much liked them a few minutes ago? Or how much you wanted to thank the person behind them?”

“I didn’t—I mean… I’m still grateful for the gifts, but… I have to be honest.” You thread carefully, heart on your throat. “I don’t… know you. And you don’t know me, either.”

“What do you mean you don’t know me? We’ve worked together before, hadn’t we?”

“Naoya… We barely talk to each other outside of class, and—and… forgive me if I don’t believe your interest in me, but what am I supposed to think after the way you act whenever I’m around?”

“What way??”

While the rest of the world seemed to be nothing but acknowledging of Naoya’s infatuation with you, if not irritated by your obliviousness—

All this time, you were seeing the other side of the coin.

Starting from the silent way he’d stare at you, a piercing gaze that made you feel miniscule, scrutinized, urging you to leave his sight as soon as possible.

Followed by the irritation in his face whenever you’d interact with someone else, as if wondering where you’d get the audacity to interact with his fellow classmates, or anyone at all.

Adding the way he’d swiftly avoid you when accidentally bumping into you—uttering a quick watch out before leaving you to your own devices, careless to bother checking if you were hurt, or not.

And now, the defensiveness in which he took your skepticism.

Was it surprising that you didn’t believe his intentions? From your point of view, it was only obvious.

But to him, it was the highest of distresses.

Guess explaining his behavior towards you up to that point would amount to nothing.

Why would he bother wasting his breath affirming to you that the only reason why he did all those things was because he was afraid of approaching you? Ignorant on how to make you like him? Or because he was jealous of others?

…when he’s already ruined everything, anyways?

“I thank you for all the beautiful things you got me, Naoya, but… I think they’re better off with someone you do like.” You say, looking down at the box, before moving it closer to him. “Besides, we both know I’m not your type.”

“Not my type? What’s that supposed to mean?”

From the rumors surrounding him, to his behavior, it was the only conclusion you could get at.

But more precisely, the continuously proved reputation he’s got of dating girls only to dump them a few days later.

While he might be exceptional when it comes to giving gifts, you were looking for something a bit more… long term, permanent, in the emotional department.

And to you, Naoya was just not that kind of person.

The silence between the two gave you enough time to define your next step.

“I can give you the things back if you want—”

“No, keep them, I got them with you in mind anyways, what good will it do to give them to someone else?” He frowns, his heart effectively shattered at this point. “Or throw them away, I don’t care.”

That would be the last time you’d see Naoya that week, who’d still helped you move all of the gifts towards your dorm and placing them just outside the door before retreating to what you supposed to be the city—no doubt in your mind that he already had other plans for the day, just staying around to see if he could try his luck with you, before going to plan B.

After all, a man like him surely couldn’t settle for just one person, a date being nothing but a box to check in his routine.

And you were surprisingly accurate—

If you were referring to the Naoya who hadn’t met you yet.

Because since you arrived in his life, you’re all he thinks of. All he could bother to care for, day and night, he only longed to be with you.

But after today, he’s not sure if this is even something he wishes to continue doing. If there’s even hope for someone like him, who’s ruined all his chances—a purpose to fight for.

A friendship with you is the last thing he could expect to happen now, especially after the gruesome conclusion you granted him. Perhaps there was never even a reason to start off from, only his delusions longing for something better.

Yet, unbeknownst to him, this was only the beginning.

Ok so I do feel a bit guilty for going down the angsty path BUT hear me out, it makes sense!!! naoya is the kind of person to make up this whole life with you and he hasn't even spoken with you lol.

outside of that, the beauty of oneshots is that I can literally write 10000 versions of this same scenario 😏 I already have another one in mind, but I'll postpone it to after the other requests I have on my ask.

Either way, I still hope you enjoyed this piece :> Happy valentines day!!

Take care, and hope to see you around ❤️

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[nebulablakemurphy]

Twenty Questions (Part 4)

Summary: For Y/N’s 20th birthday Haymitch gifts her 20 questions, that he has to answer honestly, no matter what. Mentions of sex/forced pregnancy. Moves & Countermoves companion piece.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“How many…do you think?”

“Hmm?” Haymitch hums, eyeing his wife.

“Kids.” Y/N clears her throat, “how many kids do you think Snow will make us have?”

“I’d say one of each. A boy and a girl will keep the people entertained. If the next one is a boy, I think we’ll have to try again for a girl. Assuming we stay in his good graces, we’ll probably be done after that.” Haymitch shrugs a shoulder.

“I don’t know what else we can do.” Y/N rubs her hands together anxiously.

“There’s nothing else, Angel.” Haymitch sighs, “we just have to ride this out.”

Y/N nods, rubbing the swell of her belly. She’s five months along, over half way.

“Did you want,” Haymitch stumbles over the words. “How many do you want?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder. “I think being an only child might be lonely for him.” Him. Their baby. Because it isn’t about them anymore, it never will be again. “Two would be good.”

“Two would be good,” Haymitch agrees.

————————————————————————

Haymitch drinks more than he ever has.

Y/N’s belly grows. She’s tired all the time. She snaps at Haymitch and then chases after him with tears in her eyes, begging for forgiveness. “I’m sorry, I’m… I know I’m awful. I’m trying to do better.”

“You’re not awful,” Haymitch grumbles. “I’m trying too.”

“But you are! You are doing better and I’m…I feel like everyday I get worse. That’s the difference and I’m frustrated with myself. I’m frustrated at the situation and I don’t know what to do. You’re the only person here with me all the time, so you get the brunt of everything. And I know it’s not fair to you. I know you hate me for it.” How could you not?

“I need you to know that I do not hate you. I could never hate you. I see how hard this pregnancy and marriage has been for you. I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart, if I could change it for you, I would. But I can’t.” Haymitch admits, “I can’t and it kills me.”

“It’s not hard being married to you,” she breaks off. “I’d never given a lot of thought to marriage. I didn’t necessarily want to be married. But doing it with you is easy, being with you is easy and I feel safe when I’m with you.”

“Tell me what’s wrong then, Angel. Tell me what I can do to help you. Anything you need. You just gotta give me some fucking direction here, because I am drowning in this.”

“I don’t know what I need. I feel restless all the time. I can’t sleep. I’m-”

“You’re afraid.” Haymitch gets it.

“Just…just tell me that everything’s gonna be ok.”

“It is gonna be ok. I promise.”

She closes the distance between them, relaxing into the feel of his arms around her. Holding her close, making everything ok.

————————————————————————

Things are better after that.

“Everything’s gonna be ok.”

He tells her every morning and again at night.

They decorate the nursery, they give him a name. Everest. Everest Abernathy.

By the time they mentor the games that year, Y/N is eight months along. They’ve agreed to stay in the Capitol, until the baby is born.

“You’ll have access to the best medicine known to man in our hospitals, Y/N. The same cannot be said for District Twelve.” President Snow makes her an offer that sounds more like a threat. In any event, she can’t refuse.

Their chances for a victor this year are slim to none. The female tribute is fifteen, but Y/N can spot every bone in her body. The boy isn’t much better, and only twelve.

Y/N weeps for them until she vomits. Only when she is alone, jotting notes in her tablet. She remains strong in their presence, focused. Knowing Haymitch won’t offer much help. He stopped trying and she doesn’t blame him.

She might give up too, if it didn’t mean leaving the poor tributes to fend for themselves.

It makes no difference though, both go down in the initial bloodbath. She mourns them alone, while Haymitch drowns his sorrows down at the bar.

And time passes, the same way it always has. Too fast or too slow.

Part 5

#moves & countermoves #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch fanfic #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy fanfiction #thg haymitch #twenty questions #the hunger games

[youfreakinturltle]

Protect You Pt. 4

(A/N): Okay friends! So sorry for the delay, life has definitely been interesting lately! Here is part 4 in the Protect You series! I believe this will be the final part and is kind of a long one! I based the haunted house off a house that’s actually in my home town that I visited once before it was bought. The TLDR of it, I have no idea what this house’s backstory is, it is not open to the public, nor was it when my stepmom and I decided to go take a look lol! But this is based off an experience I had when I was about 15 and the house was up for sale before being bought by a lovely family. Out of respect for the family and their safety, I won’t be giving in depth details on the exterior of the house, nor it’s location, but I will say I grew up a whole 5 minutes away from this house so it’s image is forever engrained in my mind. For the story’s sake, this will take place with the house as it was when I visited! Hope y’all enjoy!

Warnings: pirate mentions, ghosts, slight violence,some language, blood mention, mild nsfw (mostly bc I’m too awkward to go past mild 🥲), death mentioned (don’t worry, no one dies lol)

As you grew accustomed to your, as you began calling it, “second life”, you noticed that all in all, not much changed. You still went on all of the guys’ adventures, stayed at their house, and kept watch over them when it came to the paranormal. When your body was returned to you, you looked exactly the same as you had when you died. Still in your black corset (which served more as armor than an accessory in your previous life), white tunic, and leather jacket, pants, and boots. And luckily, your daggers were still snugly in place on your lower back. Some time before you died you’d had the local armorer on Nassau add holsters for them onto the back of your corset, forgoing the need of a clunky belt like your crew mates. You did take notice though upon returning, the lack of bullet holes in your clothes, something you hadn’t realized Mara had taken care of until you woke.

While you knew the time you woke up to catered to far different forms of fashion than you were used to, you realized it was also a time period where most people wore what they wanted without a care. So, taking this into account, you typically styled yourself how you would’ve when you were still a pirate. Often opting for a tunic like shirt, some leather pants with knee high boots, of course lots of jewelry, and your ever reliable jacket. On occasion you would wear your corset over your tunic of the day, but typically opting for forgoing it.

Today was one of those days where you not necessarily wanted to wear your corset, but rather had to. You see, the guys decided for their first night of Hell Week to visit a little known, but very haunted house in Texas. They couldn’t find anything online about the house or its story, but had been told about it by a fan online. The mystery behind it, not knowing what could possibly be there, is what unnerved you the most and prompted you to bring your blades. The girl online had told them briefly about her experience, being too afraid to delve too deeply. Among her recount though, included a book being thrown at her head. Of course it wouldn’t be a nice spirit, that would be too easy.

You’re sitting in the front passenger seat next to Colby, who was driving, your hand held tightly in his. About halfway from the airport you noticed his hands had begun to shake, so you quickly took one in yours and had yet to let go, too embarrassed to admit you needed it just as much as he. Something about facing the dead after having your life returned to you left you feeling uneasy. Like every spirit you crossed paths with since knew your secret, and they were angry about it.

Before you know it the car is turning off the main road and into the short driveway of the faded pink house. Immediately, you get a sinking feeling in your gut, but you quickly push it away when you turn around to smile at Sam who was speaking into the camera in the back seat. Today it was just the three of you and Kat. You loved the other guys, but sometimes their antics could be a bit much during an investigation. Once the car is stopped the four of you step out and take a look around. Thankfully, because the house is foreclosed, you’re allowed to be on the property so you don’t have to worry about anyone driving past and seeing you. Going inside on the other hand, that you’re not too sure about.

After finishing up the intro for the video, Colby turns to the group and asks if everyone is ready to head inside. There is a hesitant chorus of yes’s that causes all of you to chuckle nervously.

“Don’t worry guys, I’ll protect you from all the scary ghosts,” you say laughing as you grab onto Colby’s hand again. Not wanting to waste any more time, you lead them all to the porch. Walking up the steps you notice a tin cup sitting on the railing of the porch right next to the stairs.

“That’s not weird or anything,” you think to yourself before continuing on to the door.

“How do you think we get inside? You think there’s a window unlocked somewhere?” You hear Kat ask from behind you.

“Hmm, maybe…” you say thoughtfully, your hand already traveling to the doorknob in front of you. To everyone’s surprise, the door clicks open with ease.

“Okay… getting weirder…” you think walking through the entryway. But before you can get any further, you feel a firm hand on your right shoulder. Almost like it’s trying to push you into the floor. Whipping your head around to look at Colby, you ask what he wants.

“What are you talking about? Are you okay?” He asks looking at you with concern.

“I swear I just felt a hand on my shoulder… I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m okay,” you say shaking your head a bit and smile up at him. Everyone else walks in behind you and astonishingly enough, all of them felt it too. You look around the entryway and see stairs to your right with what looks like the remnants of a reading nook to the right of them next to the door. To your left is a sunroom, chimney in the middle of the far wall with windows completely surrounding the remaining wall space. Inside are a few bookshelves on the left, half filled with old books that look to be falling apart, a small couch in the center, and a grand piano on the right. You take note of the fact that the top of the piano is wide open and the fall board, or key lid, is shut with the bench pushed under it.

Moving on, you walk past the stairs and into the living room where you see another, larger couch in the center, another fireplace, some end tables, empty bookshelves, and a large somewhat empty picture frame above the fire place. At first glance, it appears as if nothing was ever in it, but looking closer you can see that a painting had been torn out of it as some of the edges are still sticking out of the frame. This immediately causes you to begin exercising extreme caution, and your hand goes right to one of the daggers on your back.

Behind you, you hear Kat let out an ear piercing shriek as she all but launched herself into your arms.

“What?! What happened? Are you okay?? Kat what’s wrong?” Sam asked frantically, pointing the camera to the ground out of respect for his girlfriend.

“Is a- it’s- it- a- a- r-r-RAAAT!!” She finally gets the word out, still violently shaking in your arms. You all let out a breathy laugh of relief as you attempt to calm the girl down. You all are about to walk into the kitchen when you suddenly hear a rattling noise from the sunroom. Furrowing your brow, you look to Colby and motion for them to go into the kitchen while you investigate.

Walking quietly through the living room, you don’t realize you’re holding your breath as you unsheathe your daggers to hold them in front of you. Your steps stutter when you feel a finger ghost it’s way down the scar across your eye, the one you received in your fight against Captain Flint so long ago. Back when you still gave a shit about him. Chills make their way down your spine as you begin to realize something that utterly terrifies you. You can’t see this one. You could always see the spirits, even after you woke back up, no matter how strong or weak they’ve been. But this one, you can’t see, you can’t hear, you can barely even sense its presence. Like it’s purposefully keeping itself hidden. But from what you can sense, it’s bad. Very bad. It almost feels familiar but you just can’t place it.

Shaking off the feeling, you finally step into the sunroom once again. As soon as you set foot in there though, the grate that had been firmly closed in front of the fireplace came crashing open as dozens of bats came flying out at you. In an instant, you threw yourself to the floor with a loud thud, narrowly avoiding them.

“Shit! (Y/N) are you okay?! What was that?” You hear Colby call from the kitchen.

“I’m fine! Just some bats, a little creeped out, but I’m okay.” You rise to your feet once you confirm the bats have all made their way upstairs. Figuring the noise you had heard came from the bats, you make your way back to the group in the kitchen. As soon as Colby sees you he reaches his hand out for you to grab and asks if you’re sure you’re okay.

“I’m okay, but we shouldn’t linger long. I have a bad feeling about this place. There’s something watching us, but I can’t see it.” You say taking Colby’s hand in yours. He immediately looks worried as he is the only one fully aware of the fact that you can still see spirits.

“You can’t… you’re sure?” Fear written all over his face, he begins looking around as well.

“I’m still here with you guys, alright? Everything’s-“ You’re cut off from trying to calm them all down by a loud, crystal clear, music note chiming across the house. You all freeze before slowly turning your head towards the sunroom once again.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me…” but before you can utter a single other word, you all hear plain as day: a beautiful interpretation of a song you hadn’t heard in a very long time. Coming from the piano that should by no means, be making any noise above a dull thud, let alone playing as clearly as it is. None of your friends can figure out why you just went as pale as a sheet as they wouldn’t have any way of being familiar with this song, for it was one sung on your old ship. One only members of your former crew should know.

“We need to leave. Immediately.” You don’t realize how badly you’re shaking until Colby rests a hand on your shoulder. You’re in the middle of trying to calm down so you can properly protect them when you hear something so jarring, it sends you to your knees. A deep, low hum, the note carrying out across the house.

“The king… and his men… stole the Queen from her bed…”

“What the hell is that?!” You hear Kat shriek from beside you. You’re now on the ground shaking so violently, you can no longer answer her. You now have a feeling as to who this could be. And you have the slightest inkling as to why this being would be so angry with you. Though the thing you can’t figure out is how he ended up here of all places. Somewhere so far from your home that it just doesn’t make sense.

“…and bound her in… her bones… the seas be ours… and by the powers… where we will… we’ll roam…” the deep, unsettling voice continued.

“You guys need to leave.” You tried convincing them to get out of the house. You so desperately didn’t want them to experience a remnant of your past. Especially one as jarring as this.

“Not a chance. I’m not leaving you here alone,” You hear Colby blurt out next to you. Before you can respond though, you hear everyone start screaming as you feel cool metal touch your neck. Right beside your ear, you hear a deep raspy voice say, “sing… the song… be reminded… of yer brethren…”

The touch of the blade seems to bring you back to your senses, as you’re suddenly calm and no longer shaking. You’re about to comply when you see another figure step out of the shadows. This new figure, you can see first off, but has a visible, heavy limp. Each step he takes, accompanied by a loud thump of wood on wood.

“Ye remember him… don’t ye? Or have… ye forgotten us… in this new life of yers…” the being behind you seems to spit out the words “new life”, as if the thought of you having anything remotely good happen would be a sin.

You finally manage to croak out a single word as tears begin streaming down your cheeks, your friends almost completely forgotten now: “John.”

You feel warm liquid trickle down your neck, indicating the skin had now been broken. More screams permeated your consciousness, bringing you back to the present. Looking up at Colby, who is now white as a sheet, you urge them to run. You make the correct assumption that they can at the very least see the blade at your throat. You’re not sure how much they can see but you aren’t taking any chances.

“I won’t leave you! Not after everything you’ve done for us!”

“Please, Colby. Take them and go. I’ll be right behind you,” you said, trying to sound calm and brave. Truth be known, you hadn’t been so afraid since before your death, but you couldn’t let them know that. Finally listening to you, Colby takes Sam and Kat’s hands and runs out of the house with them.

Letting out a sigh of relief you turn back to John, “why- what happened? Why are you here?”

Instead though, the being behind you speaks, “ye mean… ye didn’t hear… we lost… ye were right… shoulda listened to ya… they brought us here… to rot… shoulda just… hanged us wit’ our dignity…”

With this, your suspicions are confirmed. This being- no, this man behind you, is Captain Flint. Instead of being fearful though, you grow angry. So angry you can no longer even bring yourself to ask what happened to John’s leg. Your rage that had been building for over 300 years had finally boiled over. At Flint, Vane, Charleston, even John. Why? Why had they done that to you? You had been nothing but loyal to them. You did anything and everything Flint asked of you, going so far as to keep his stupid fucking secret from the crew! How many brothers had you lost because of them? How many lives were on your hands because of them? All you know is it was so many you still can’t wash off all the blood.

As your rage grows, so does your spirit energy. Something you came to realize you could still manipulate after returning to the physical world. Though instead of controlling it, your anger causes it to grow at a rate you had never experienced. Everything from furniture to photos start violently shaking as doors and cabinets slam open and shut.

“(Y/N)!!”

Whipping your head to your left, you see Colby.

“Colby… Ye silly scallywag… What on Earth are ye doing back here? I could hurt ye…” You think to yourself upon seeing him. But it’s too late, your power has already reached a cataclysmic point of seemingly no return. With the last bit of control you can muster, you send Colby flying back out of the house and slam the door shut.

As soon as the door slams to a close a scream rips from your throat and the last thing you see before blacking out is John reaching for you. You barely hear him say, “I’m sorry,” before your vision fades.

When you come back to you find yourself lying in bed. At home. But how? The last thing you remember is- oh… John. But what happened?

Climbing out of bed you see that you still have your clothes on from before. Though now for some reason your shirt has blood stains all over the collar. Stumbling your way into the living room you’re greeted with a gut wrenching sight. Kat in Sam’s arms, the both of them with tears streaming down their faces, and Colby sitting silently on the couch staring blankly ahead. You step out further and they are alerted to your presence. Kat quickly flings herself at you, sobbing all the while about how scared they were to find you “like that”. Sam gently tugs her away so Colby can step forward and take you in his arms. He squeezes like you’re going to disappear again.

“Guys… what happened back there?” You hesitantly ask them, having taken notice of the blood stained towels in the trash.

“We were so scared. We just… heard you scream and then bangingandthislightand-“ you cut Colby off as he begins speaking faster and faster. Assuming your role of group mom, you sit everyone on the couch so they can explain what happened. To make a long story short, apparently you accidentally blew the house up, sending the spirits over at the same time. When they found you you had been covered in wooden boards and debris, dirty but otherwise unharmed. Though they were highly alarmed to see blood coming from your nose, ears, and eyes. Which would explain your shirt and the towels. You calmly explain to them that there’s nothing to worry about, that just tends to happen when you overexert yourself. Though you have to contain your laughter at the bewildered looks you get from that comment.

You do ask them how they managed to get out of there without getting the attention of the authorities. You chuckle, shaking your head thinking to yourself, “ah, sink me… can’t take these scallywags anywhere,” as they tell you about grabbing you from the debris and high tailing it out of there before anyone had time to show up. “Well… they’d make decent pirates at least.”

You all take some time to decompress together in the living room before branching off to your respective rooms. Walking into your shared room with Colby you announce that you’re going to wash off all the dust and dirt from that house. You can practically feel him staring a hole in your back and you can’t decide whether it’s out of concern or intrigue. You decide to act on the latter and pull your shirt over your head as you walk into the bathroom, playfully tossing it behind you into the bedroom. Behind you you hear an excited little “Ooo!” followed by the pattering of footsteps. He rounds the corner as you’re shimmying out of your pants and turning the water on.

“So… does that shower have enough room for two?” You giggle, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Hm… I suppose it could… if only someone could help me out of the rest of my clothes.” You grin back at him sending him a wink. Turning back around you lift your hair up for him and almost immediately feel his gentle fingers on your spine. Letting out a soft sigh, you feel the clasp of your top come off. The feeling of his lips on your neck and his hands sliding down to your waistband takes over your senses and suddenly there’s only Colby. He’s all you can see, hear, feel. He’s the only thing you crave. Regaining just enough control you step under the warm water and gesture for Colby to follow you.

Since meeting Colby he’s become your happiness. Your entire world. And two years later he proves that you’re his world too. When he takes you to Nassau, back to your home, and proposes to you in the very fort where you spent most of your previous life.

The year following the beautiful proposal, you have your wedding. As Colby puts it, “One fit for a Pirate Queen.” The two of you spend the rest of your life together in bliss, hunting ghosts and chasing happiness.

*Thank you all SO SO MUCH for sticking with me through the Protect You series!! I’m so sorry for the long wait, as a reader I know how frustrating that can be, so I really appreciate you guys!!

**Tags:

@iwantsleepplz

@katie-tibo

@trashmouthsahra

@astropotato5

@givemethemaknaes16

@starsaroundmyscxrss

@somerandomrants

@chewisophogus

@kay-811

#colby brock #colby brock x ghost!reader #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #ghost!reader #pirate!reader #sam and colby #protect you series #fanfic #protect you

[wither-rose-circus]

I bet Sausage keeps a diary. I bet he writes down everything he can remember. Not necessarily big events, like Xornoth’s arrival or the apocalypse, but simple. . . things. Like that Gem had a few more freckles on her right cheek than her left, or that fWhip kept an emergency sewing kit in his inner jacket pocket for when his clothes got caught on machinery. That Jimmy had a little gap between his front teeth, and Pearl’s favorite battle scar was the one just above her left shoulder. He keeps track of every detail he can recall and then he rereads them. Repeating them to himself nightly, in whispers that one might mistake for a prayer, so he won’t forget.

It’s easy to forget. Too easy. Sometimes he worries that maybe Jimmy’s eyes weren’t actually hazel, except under the sunlight when they lit up with the most brilliant flecks of gold. Perhaps Gem’s favorite color wasn’t secretly red, which she’d always lie about and say “purple, if you couldn’t tell” when people asked. He might just be reinforcing things his mind made up. But he can’t really check anymore, can he? He hopes his friends won’t be too offended if he accidentally gets some things wrong. But they can’t exactly object, can they?

It’s been. . . one hundred? One thousand? The years are the one thing he’s stopped keeping track of. He knows it’s been a very long time though. Long enough that not even ruins of their homes remain. It’s just dirt. Not the dirt he remembers, which he does remember oh so vividly. It’s new, fresh dirt. Dirt that doesn’t remember the craters left by fWhip’s explosives, or the uprooting vines of Xornoth’s corruption, or the blood and bones of his friends.

It’s just dirt. It doesn’t remember like him. It doesn’t even remember him. But that’s okay, because he’ll remember for it. He’ll remember everything, because his memories are the proof that they were here. That they’re still here, with him, somehow. He’s not sure how, but that doesn’t matter, because as long as he remembers, remembers the way Joey’s smile was a little crooked, or how Shrub always cooked her favorite stew a little too long because she liked it tough. That Kathrine twirled her hair when she was nervous, and that Lizzie’s scales were never quite the same color twice. How Joel wore a bracelet instead of a ring after Lizzie transformed because she felt so bad that they didn’t fit her fingers anymore, and that Scott never admitted that he memorized everyone’s favorite wool color so he’d know what to use when he sent gifts, and that Pixlriffs’ cloaks were always a size or two too big so he could shelter people in case the desert winds kicked up without warning.

And he knows that if he can remember them, that means they’re still here. It means they’re still with him.

#mcyt #empires smp #empires smp s2 #mythicalsausage

[nburkhardt]

It won’t leave my head even after sending some thoughts to @i-less-than-three-you so here’s my take on Steddie shovel talks. It’s not quite a fic, more just me rambling. It’s angsty with a dash of overprotective Eddie at the end ✨

Steve and Eddie start dating right? They wait at least a month before telling anyone, once they do Steve’s not necessarily cornered by Eddie’s Uncle Wayne but he has words. The whole ‘don’t hurt him’ easy shovel talk, right? Then Eddie’s friends one night after Hellfire, they also give the shovel talk to Steve. They’re more creative with words, and leave satisfied with how panicked Steve looked.

The thing though? Steve was already afraid of messing up his relationship. Still too insecure over what happened during his relationship with Nancy. And he really, really, really likes Eddie. He doesn’t want this relationship to end and he doesn’t want to be the reason either.

Eddie on the other hand gets not quite a shovel talk from Robin, but more like a “hey don’t be stupid” type of talk because she doesn’t think it’s necessary, having seen Eddie being a total sap when it comes to Steve. (Also side note, I think she could be on the spectrum and it doesn’t process to her that being a best friend/platonic soulmate would mean being an overprotective and giving a shovel talk is necessary) anyway, the kids don’t even bother with shovel talks because to them Eddie and Steve are just hooking up, it’s not actually a relationship.

And since Steve wants this to work, like actually work out and last for as long as possible (forever, Steve wants this forever.) So…communication is key for him now, he brings it up one night and tells Eddie about the shovel talks his family gave him and that it shouldn’t be necessary because he wants this relationship to last, okay? He doesn’t want to hurt Eddie at all. After he’s done talking, he doesn’t outright ask if anyone did the same but Eddie’s on the same wavelength as Steve and tells him about the short conversation with Robin and how the kids doesn’t believe how the relationship is just that.

Afterwards, Steve admits his insecurities because like I said, communication is key in this relationship. Anyway he admits the insecurities about how his friends, people he views as family, didn’t think it was necessary for a shovel talk. Says how he’d do it for all of them, ya know?

This leads to an upset Eddie on Steve’s behalf and where the overprotectiveness comes to play. He’s even more upset for Steve at this point, so he decides to have words with the kids and then eventually also explains it to Robin because yeah, she’s Steve’s platonic soulmate but they also share a braincell between them sometimes and it needed to be done, okay?? His boyfriend is upset and when Steve is upset, Eddie wants to make things better, because he’s a goddamn sap and loves him.

Anyway, that’s my thoughts on the shovel talks troupe going around lol (btw, if anyone wants to expand on this or write it out you’re welcome to!!)

#steddie #steddie hc #steve x eddie #steve harrington angst #Steve is an insecure guy :( #he just needs a hug and it’s a good thing Eddie’s right here #nburkhardt writes

[bethanydelleman]

Knightley isn’t the Secret Villain of Emma

The book Jane Austen, the Secret Radical by Helena Kelly has been haunting me despite the fact that I’ve never read it and I probably won’t because everything I hear is wild. Theories from that book come up in discussions a lot.

Anyway, I would like to address the author’s theory that Mr. Knightley is actually the villain of the novel, marrying Emma just to he can enclose land and become more powerful/wealthy. Also, he caused the turkey theft by making people poorer. There is a argument against this theory here and, by the excellent John Mullen: here.

So firstly, this goes against everything we know about Mr. Knightley’s character. He shows concern for everyone, especially the poor, and he respects people of the lower class, such as Robert Martin. We see many examples of this, the Bates being a prime example. He sends his last apples to Miss Bates and offers his own carriage for the Bates and Jane Fairfax to go to the Coles. (This also proves he can use his carriage if he wants to). The most dramatic point of the book is him scolding Emma for being unkind to someone poorer than herself!

Secondly, there are still common fields, it’s right in the book: if one is blown over in the bleak part of the common field there will be the other at hand. I dare say we shall be all safe at Hartfield before midnight (Ch 15).

Thirdly, I don’t see how this is evidence at all of Knightley having evil plots:

“True, true,” cried Mr. Knightley, with most ready interposition—“very true. That’s a consideration indeed.—But John, as to what I was telling you of my idea of moving the path to Langham, of turning it more to the right that it may not cut through the home meadows, I cannot conceive any difficulty. I should not attempt it, if it were to be the means of inconvenience to the Highbury people, but if you call to mind exactly the present line of the path.... The only way of proving it, however, will be to turn to our maps. I shall see you at the Abbey to-morrow morning I hope, and then we will look them over, and you shall give me your opinion.” (Ch 11)

Knightley is talking to his own brother, among family. We have absolutely no reason to believe he is lying. In his annotated Emma, David M. Shapard points to this same passage as an example of Mr. Knightley’s thoughtfulness to the local people. If anything, this makes him an ideal, not a villain.

Fourthly, like, theft happens people. In every society all the time. Poultry are smallish and stupid and easy to steal. And to blame Knightley for poverty when even Jesus admitted that poverty will literally always exist? One man can only do so much!

Finally, Jane Austen does mention enclosure in her novels, indicating she’s not scared to bring it up, and which character does it? John freaking Dashwood. When telling his sister why he is so poor, John says, “The enclosure of Norland Common, now carrying on, is a most serious drain [to his finances].” (Ch 33, Sense & Sensibility) Of course he’s not poor; he also does not engage in charity at all, not even when he makes a deathbed promise to his father. If you read both of these novels and somehow took away that Knightley is another John Dashwood than... I mean honestly I don’t even know what to say.

But it’s also unclear in S&S if Austen though enclosure was a bad thing. Henry Dashwood, the girl’s father, seems to me to be presented as a good man, and he might well to have been planning enclosure as well:  

Mr. Dashwood’s disappointment was, at first, severe; but his temper was cheerful and sanguine; and he might reasonably hope to live many years, and by living economically, lay by a considerable sum from the produce of an estate already large, and capable of almost immediate improvement.

Which leads me to believe that the real crime of John Dashwood was to complain to his impoverished sisters, not necessarily the enclosure itself. He’s claiming poverty while doing something to make himself more wealthy.

Either way, however Jane Austen actually viewed enclosure, I don't know how you can read Emma and decide that the thoughtful, caring, polite, and truth-telling Mr. Knightley, who gives up his actual home to live with Emma and her father, is somehow the villain.

Additional Note: I am pretty disinclined to believe anything in the book Secret Radical because of her argument that Fanny bought a knife for Betsey to protect her from the abuse of Mr. Price. Which is.. just insane. I really doubt either Susan (14) or Betsey (5) could fight off a former Marine Officer with a pen knife, even if that was how child abuse worked... but also none of the Price children ever act like they are afraid of their father. He yells at the boys once to zero effect and then they come and make noise right in front of him... Anyway, I'm just addressing the Knightley thing because it comes up a lot online now.

#mr. knightley #emma #jane austen the secret radical #helena kelly #jane austen #was not secretly radical #she was overtly radical #by suggesting women were rational creatures #and deserved to be listened to #which is still a problem today #enclosure #this theory just booggles my mind

[just-dreaming-marvel]

The Bond Between Us ~ 19

THE BOND BETWEEN US MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 5,900ish

Summary: You and Anakin are requested by Obi-Wan to help escort the Duchess Satine to Coruscant. Emotions get messy along the way.

Notes: I know I said that nothing would probably be coming out the rest of the week, but this is helping me grieve. I have a love-hate relationship with this chapter. I hope y’all enjoy it.

You hadn’t necessarily decided to avoid Obi-Wan, it just happened that way. The war was the biggest factor. There was always the next fight, the next system that required help. So it was easy for you and Obi-Wan to never see each other, always being pulled to the next thing. In the four weeks since you had left Padme’s, you hadn’t seen Obi-Wan at all and you’d only seen Anakin through a hologram that had Master Yoda involved so he wasn’t able to question you.

The separation wasn’t helping you forget about anything that happened. And, much to your frustration, your longing for the Jedi Master only continued to grow. You hadn’t opened your bond back up and you could tell it was affecting you. That and the fact that you hadn’t been able to center yourself in the Force.

You and your battalion had just finished an assignment that left you limping through the star cruiser.

“Are you alright, General?” Crak asked, glancing down at your leg.

“I’m fine,” you brushed the concern off.

“There’s no shame—“

“I said I’m fine, Crak. Just tell me that we have at least a day off before the next assignment.”

“Actually, General,” another clone said, coming up to you and Crak, “the Jedi Council is requesting to speak with you.”

“Great,” you muttered. “Let’s go get this over with.” You limped to where the holo table already had Master Yoda and Master Windu up. “Masters,” you bowed slightly, “how may I help you?”

“We are sending Skywalker to come and pick you up,” Windu started. “The Duchess Satine of Mandalore is in need of escorts to bring her to Coruscant. The Death Watch is after her and will do anything to successfully assassinate her.”

“Picked you and Skywalker, Master Obi-Wan has,” Yoda explained. 

You knew that you had no room to argue with them about it and that you should probably get seeing Obi-Wan over with sooner than later.

“When will Skywalker be arriving?” You asked.

“General, Skywalker has requested entrance to the hangar,” one of the clones around you announced.

“Let him in. We will arrive on Mandalore as quickly as possible, Masters.”

~~~

Anakin kept glancing over at you as you helped him copilot to Mandalore. It was getting annoying. You could feel his need to ask you questions burning.

“Just say what you want to say,” you mumbled, breaking the silence.

“What did Obi-Wan do that caused you to run away?” Anakin asked, getting straight to the point.

You sighed. “It’s really nothing, Ani. It was just me overreacting.”

“I don’t believe you. Out of the two of us, I am the one who overreacts, you are the calm and collected one.”

“Maybe that’s changed.”

Anakin scoffed. “Doubt it.” He paused a thought for a moment. “Do I need to kill him?”

“Anakin! No!”

“Hey! It was just a question! He may be my Master, but no one gets to hurt my sister.”

“Good to know.”

“But in all seriousness, I do care about what happened. And you disappearing from Padme’s—“

“I didn’t disappear from Padme’s. I left a note and went back to business on my star cruiser.”

“Right, fine, whatever. You still didn’t tell Obi-Wan where you were going and that hurt him. He’s been struggling since then, though he won’t admit it. I can even sense his connection with the Force is not as strong as it was… I can sense the same with you.”

“I will talk to him if I am able to while we escort the Duchess to Coruscant.”

“Please do. I cannot stand seeing either of you like this and neither can Padme.”

“How is Padme?”

“I know that you know, Y/N/N. She did tell me that much of what you two discussed but nothing else.”

“That I am grateful for but you still failed to answer my question.”

“She’s good.” Anakin smiled just at the thought of Padme. It made you happy for him and yet long for the same thing. 

~~~

Obi-Wan was exhausted. He had been looking forward to being reunited with his old friend, Duchess Satine, but business came before any pleasure. Not that there was ever going to be pleasure happening between them. When Obi-Wan saw her for the first time after many years, he still found her beautiful but nothing in comparison to your beauty. In fact, being around Satine just made him miss you more. He could never admit it to anyone but himself, even that was hard to do, but requesting you to come with Anakin was a selfish move. Obi-Wan knew that he and Anakin could handle escorting the Duchess alone, but he had to try something to see you again. He needed to do anything he could to make this right. He would get down on his knees and beg if he had to.

As the Duchess and her people walked onto her ship, Obi-Wan watched. He was trying not to push himself into feeling around the Force for you, especially since you had yet to put your shields back down. He was so focused on watching Satine, that he almost didn’t notice you walking up with Anakin, R2D2, Cody, Rex, and a few other clones. Obi-Wan eyes were immediately glued onto you, though you seemed to struggle to even look at him.

“Reporting for escort duty, General,” Anakin said.

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, pulling his focus away from you briefly, “Am I glad to see you and Y/N.”

“I’m sure,” Anakin smirked, taking in his Master. “You sound tired.”

“The peaceful ways of the locals wore me out a bit.” Obi-Wan stepped closer to you, not caring how obvious he was at the moment. “Hello, little star.”

Your eyes threatened to tear up at the nickname, your heart having ached for it the past three weeks. “Hello… Obi-Wan.” You had wanted to call him Master Kenobi or General Kenobi, but you could feel what Anakin had been talking about and knew that would only do more harm than good. “Glad to see you’re still in one piece.”

“You as well.” He cleared his throat slightly before stepping away. “We should go in and speak with the troops.”

“Right.”

You followed close behind Obi-Wan, relishing in the closeness once again. Your brain wished to be logical, not wanting to get hurt or break the Jedi Code further, but your heart beats for Obi-Wan Kenobi. And there was no way to stop that unless it stopped beating. Obi-Wan guided your group down to one of the lower decks. The clones circled up and listened to Obi-Wan give his orders.

“You know your marching orders,” Obi-Wan stated. “The safety of the Duchess Satine is of the utmost importance. The Death Watch will stop at nothing to assassinate her before she pleads her case to the Senate.”

“The Death Watch may be backed by the Separatists, so stay sharp,” Anakin warned. “R2, use your scanners to probe for any suspicious droid activity.” R2 beeps affirmatively.

“Anything else, sir?” Rex asked.

“No, that will be all,” Obi-Wan answered. Cody signaled and the troops went off to their posts. Obi-Wan’s wrist communicator started beeping. “Yes?”

“The Duchess and her retinue requests your presence,” the man said.

“Very well.” 

Obi-Wan turned to the elevator behind him. You, Anakin, Cody, and Rex followed in. Even with your shields up, you could sense Obi-Wan’s anxiety. It was curious to you, and apparently to Anakin.

“I sense some anxiety from you about the Duchess,” Anakin stated. “She couldn’t be in safer hands.”

“Yes, I know,” Obi-Wan responded, hand on his chin.

“Then why—“

“Never mind. It’s all in the past.”

“Oh, so you’re close to her?”

“I knew her. A long time ago.”

The way Obi-Wan had said that made a piece of your heart chip away. Is that why he hadn’t kissed you? Did his heart lie with another? Unbeknownst to you, that crack in your heart also put a crack in the shields you had up, allowing Obi-Wan to sense some hurt from you. He couldn’t tell what the hurt was based on, but he promised himself to get to the bottom of it as soon as he could.

~~~

You hated to admit that the Duchess was beautiful. And as you, Obi-Wan, and Anakin stood in the doorway of the room, she was sitting down, passionately speaking out against the war. Her passions were probably why Obi-Wan was drawn to her, you believed. There were servants and diplomats standing around, listening to the Duchess speak.

“As the designated regent of 1,500 systems, I speak for thousands of worlds that have urged me to allow them to stay neutral in this war,” Satine expressed.

“And yet,” Obi-Wan cut in, leading you and Anakin further into the room, “some might argue that the strongest defense is a swift and decisive offense.”

“You are quite the general now, aren’t you, Master Kenobi?”

“Forgive him for interrupting, Your Highness. I meant no disrespect.”

“Really? Senators, I presume you are acquainted with the collection of half-truths and hyperbole known as Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

Your brows furrowed at her introduction of the man. That was not impressive, for a Duchess. At least in your mind.

“Your Highness is too kind,” Obi-Wan retorted.

“You’re right,” the Duchess responded. “I am.”

“Allow me to introduce my fellow Jedi, Anakin Skywalker, and Y/N L/N.” 

You could feel the disappointment from Anakin as Obi-Wan introduced you by your adopted name. You both stepped toward the Duchess, bowing.

“Your servant, my lady,” Anakin said.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” you added.

“I remember a time when Jedi were not generals, but peacekeepers,” Satine said.

“We are protectors, Highness,” Anakin argued. “Yours, at the moment. We fight for peace.”

“What an amusing contradiction.”

“What Master Skywalker means is that we are acting at the behest of Your Highness to protect you from the Death Watch and the Separatists, who don’t share your neutral point of view,” Obi-Wan tried to clear up.

“I asked for no such thing!”

“That may be so, but a majority of your court did.”

“I do not remember you as one to hide behind excuses.”

“I do not remember you as one to shrink from responsibilities.”

Senator Orn Free Taa quickly stepped in between the Duchess and Obi-Wan. “I am certain we all agree that Duchess Satine and General Kenobi have proven there are two sides to every dilemma,” he said.

“Indeed,” Senator Tal Merrik agreed.

“Now, in regard to the Senate vote, we think—“

“I think a multitude makes discord,” Satine interrupted, “not good council.”

“Right again, my lady.”

“There may be two sides to every dilemma,” Obi-Wan said to you and Anakin, “but the Duchess only favors hers.” His tone was harsh.

“Obi-Wan, do you perhaps think that you may be too close to the situation to complete this assignment with a clear head?” You calmly tried to question.

“I am not too close.” Obi-Wan turned away from you and walked closer to Satine. “A Republic military presence is the only sure defense against the Separatists.”

Satine stood from where she was sitting. “Even extremists can be reasoned with,” she retorted. The two walked closer to each other, the tension in the room growing.

“Perhaps, if one can be heard over the clanking of their battle droids.”

“Oh, the sarcasm of a soldier.”

“The delusion of a dreamer.”

At this point, Satine and Obi-Wan were glaring at each other. They were close enough though that you wondered if one of them was fighting the urge to kiss the other, chipping another piece of your heart away.

“Duchess, Master Jedi,” Senator Merrik called, “it’s been a long trip. I think we could all use a little rest and refreshment.”

“Hear, hear,” Senator Taa agreed. “Now let us put politics aside until after dinner.”

“Fine!” Satine and Obi-Wan said at the same time before Satine shoved Obi-Wan out of her way and left the room.

“That was fun,” Anakin whispered to you.

“Yeah… fun…” you mumbled, trying to not read into the situation more than you already were.

After Obi-Wan was done glaring at the door Satine had left through, he walked out of it himself. You and Anakin quickly followed, catching up to walk beside him, each on a different side.

“You and Satine have a history,” Anakin stated.

“An extended mission when I was younger,” Obi-Wan explained. “Master Qui-Gon and I spent a year on Mandalore, protecting the Duchess from insurgents who had threatened her world.” The three of you entered an elevator. “They sent bounty hunters after us. We were always on the run, living hand to mouth, never sure what the next day would bring.”

“Sounds romantic.” 

A pit formed in your stomach at Anakin’s words, preparing to drop your heart into it and devour it whole. Obi-Wan gave Anakin a look, unable to look your way at the fear of what your face might say.

“A civil war killed most of Satine’s people,” Obi-Wan continued as you exited the elevator, “hence her aversion to violence. When she returned, she took on the difficult task of rebuilding her world alone.”

“You didn’t stay to help her?” Anakin questioned.

“That would have been problematic.” The three of you entered the quarters you were given. Obi-Wan used the Force to pull himself up a chair while Anakin leaned near the door and you went behind Obi-Wan to avoid him from seeing you. “My duty as a Jedi demanded I be elsewhere.”

“Demanded? But it’s obvious you had feelings for her. Surely that would affect your decision.”

“Oh, it did. I live by the Jedi Code.”

You almost felt like your world was caving in around you. Tears formed in your eyes that you quickly tried to blink away, but it was too late. You noticed that Anakin had noticed, his face dropping in realization. Before Obi-Wan could pick up on it, Anakin quickly continued the conversation.

“Of course,” he said, trying not to let his emotions sound in his voice. “As Master Yoda says, ‘A Jedi must not form attachments’.”

“Yes. But he usually leaves out the undercurrent of remorse,” Obi-Wan responded. Before he could say anything else, his comlink beeped. “Yes, Captain?”

“General, something’s wrong with Skywalker’s astromech,” Rex said. “Scared him real good, sir. I’ve also lost contact with two of my men.”

Obi-Wan stood up from his seat. “I’m on my way down to assist you.”

“I’ll go, Master,” Anakin volunteered. “If there’s something dangerous down there, the clones and I can handle it.”

“I’ll come too,” you said, trying to rush past Obi-Wan.

“Actually, Y/N, could you stay up here?” Obi-Wan wondered. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

You looked to Anakin and he gave you a slight nod, trying to be comforting before he left the room. You stood in your spot unable to get yourself to turn around and face the man.

“Little star,” Obi-Wan called, “can you look at me?” You closed your eyes, unmoving. He sighed. “I… I need to apologize for what happened that night… I… I don’t know what got into me.”

“So, you regret it?” Your voice was small as you spoke, trying not to show the tremble it wanted.

Obi-Wan thought for a moment. Did he regret not kissing you? Yes. Did he regret almost kissing you and making this awkward? Yes. Would yes be the best answer to give you? Most definitely not.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he finally answered.

You turned around, letting him see your glistening eyes. Obi-Wan had to stop himself from reaching out and pulling you into him. He hated himself for being the one making you cry, that was never what he wanted.

“Is it as complicated as your clear feelings for the Duchess?” You questioned. “It’s obvious that you still hold some feelings for her, Obi-Wan.”

“That was a long time ago, little star,” Obi-Wan said. “I was younger and—“

“And that’s not a denial of your current feelings.” You took a deep breath as Obi-Wan stayed silent. “Whatever happened that night between us, whatever was going to happen, it’s in the past now. And I’m sorry for my part in it.”

“Y/N—“

“We should go and inform the Senators not to leave dinner.” 

You turned around and headed out the door. That was in no way how Obi-Wan wanted the conversation to go. Had he really planned what he wanted to say? No. But he knew it wasn’t that. Obi-Wan followed you into the elevator and stood silently by your side. He could feel your shields slowly cracking more, allowing him to feel your pain. He wished that he could comfort you, but that would make you aware of what was happening and shield him completely out again. And this was better than nothing. The two of you entered the dining room to find dinner already on the table with the Senators seated around it, the Duchess at the head.

“I beg your pardon, Senators,” Obi-Wan said. “Our men are investigating a situation belowdecks. We respectfully ask you to wait here until it is settled.”

“Please, join us,” Senator Taa requested.

“Thank you,” you said. 

You went over to the open seat beside Senator Taa. You sat down and Obi-Wan quickly helped you push in your chair before sitting next to you at the end of the table, across from Satine. As you sat there, you began to feel off in the Force. Like someone in there was hiding something.

“I’m afraid Master L/N, that I have heard little about you,” Satine said. “Did Master Kenobi train you?”

“No, he did not,” you answered. “I was trained by the Jedi Council themselves.”

“Aren’t you on the Council, General Kenobi?” Merrik questioned.

“Yes, but while Y/N was a Padawan, I was not,” Obi-Wan replied. “I trained Anakin.”

“Clearly,” Satine muttered. “You must be very special, Y/N, for you to be trained by the Jedi Council themselves.”

“She is,” Obi-Wan answered for you, hoping that you could feel how true he believed his answer to be.

“I am nothing special, Duchess,” you added. “It was a great honor to be trained by such Jedi.” 

Obi-Wan’s comlink beeped again. “Please excuse us,” he said. The two of you stood up and walked away from the table. “Anakin, what have you found?”

“There’s a large open container, and the contents are missing,” Anakin informed. “And I still have two men unaccounted for.”

“That’s not good. Keep things quiet, Y/N and I will stay with the Senators.”

“Obi-Wan, there is something off in the Force,” you whispered to him. “I believe one of these Senators is hiding something.”

“Senators are always hiding something. They’re politicians.”

“This is different.” 

The look in your eye informed Obi-Wan that what you were feeling was serious. Your instincts, especially when it came to the Force, were never wrong. So he knew that he needed to trust them.

“Alright,” he said. “We must watch them all carefully then.”

You and Obi-Wan had barely gotten back to your seats when Anakin’s voice filled the comlink once again.

“Obi-Wan!” He exclaimed. “There’s assassin probes down here! One made it up the lift. I’ll try to hold the others here.”

“Quickly, secure the lifts!” You ordered the soldiers near you.

The soldiers ran out, with you and Obi-Wan right behind them. The two of you ignited your lightsabers just before the lift doors opened and a large, spider-like assassin pride hurried out. Using two of its legs, it quickly killed the two soldiers with you. Obi-Wan went to attack it but got thrown at the wall. You gritted your teeth and jumped on top of it, slamming your lightsaber down it’s center. 

With you still on top of it, the assassin probe raced toward the Senators, who were grouped together now near the large window. Obi-Wan rushed over and cut two of its legs off before plunging his saber through its side, killing it. You flipped off of it, pulling your lightsaber with you, and landing next to Obi-Wan. Suddenly, smaller versions of the probe began coming alive and crawling out of the bigger probe. 

You and Obi-Wan began fighting off the probes as they started crawling toward you and jumping at you. To your surprise, Satine pulled out a deactivator and began aiming at the probes. She backed up into Obi-Wan’s back as they began to work in tandem. You tried your hardest not to be hurt by how well they were working together.

“Do you always carry a deactivator?” Obi-Wan asked Satine.

“Just because I’m a pacifist, doesn’t mean I won’t defend myself,” she responded.

“Now you sound like a Jedi.”

You put your saber back on your belt once the last of the probes were finished. Obi-Wan looked over at you, scanning your body for any injuries before he reached down and picked up a deactivated probe.

“Just like that swarm of venom-mites on Draboon, remember?” Obi-Wan said, clearly directing his comment toward the Duchess.

“How could I forget?” Satine questioned. “I still have the scar.”

“Begging your pardon, Duchess, I distinctly remember carrying you to safety.”

“I meant the scar I got after you fell and dropped me.”

“Oh. Yes.”

You hated how jealous you were feeling the more you watched Obi-Wan and Satine interact. Jealousy was unbecoming of a Jedi, but you couldn’t help it. With all your struggling with the Force and your emotions lately, you knew that once you saw Master Yoda again you would need his help to gain control of them. Perhaps this was the danger he was referring to when speaking of the bond you shared with Obi-Wan? You were pulled from you thoughts when Anakin entered the room. He passed the manifest he was holding to Obi-Wan as you walked over.

“One of our four distinguished Senators appears to be a traitor,” Anakin told you and Obi-Wan.

“Yes, Y/N was sensing that same thing,” Obi-Wan replied, studying the manifest. The sound of chirping caught your group's attention. You looked to see a little probe crawling around. “It looks like one of our little visitors is still alive.” He turned back to Anakin, handing him back the manifest. “I have an idea how to expose the turncoat. Return to the hull of the ship. Destroy the last assassin droids. Y/N and I will find out which of the Senators is the traitor.” Anakin bowed before he left. “Clean up the droids, I’m going to grab our little friend.” You nodded, moving to leave as Obi-Wan caught your wrist. “And, Y/N, could you please lower your shields?” His eyes were pleading. “I have a feeling that we need all the strength we can get.”

It took you a second to nod. “Okay.”

~~~

As Obi-Wan collected the probe and formed a plan, you used the Force to pull the dead probes into a pile. The Senators and Duchess watched in awe as they sat at the table and food was again brought out.

“Very impressive,” Senator Taa commented.

“Thank you, Senator,” you responded with a slight bow.

You continued to clean up the probes as you slowly let your shields down. The rush of feeling the bond again caused you to lose your breath but in a good way. You could already feel your signature respond happily with Obi-Wan’s and your strength returning.

“Duchess, you’re not eating,” Senator Taa noted.

“I have no appetite,” Satine said.

“Begging your pardon, you must keep up your strength.”

“By all means, be my guest, Senator.”

“If you insist.” Obi-Wan came back into the room with a container covered by a cloth in his hands. “Ah, dessert! Excellent!”

“This morsel might prove too much even for the legendary appetite of Orn Free Taa,” Obi-Wan commented. He threw off the cloth, revealing the probe on a plate with a glass lid. “Enjoy.”

Taa gasped, leaning away from it. “Oh, on second thought, it wouldn’t agree with me.”

“My theory is our little friend will attack the Duchess and anyone who defends her. Anyone that is, except the traitor who programmed it.”

The probe tried to jump at Senator Taa, obviously not able to reach him. “Take it away! Please!”

“Obi-Wan, this line of questioning borders on torture!” Satine expressed.

Obi-Wan began moving around the table, starting with Senator Onaconda Farr. “Oh, I assure our pacific Duchess that all is under control. I’m trying to expose a bigger threat.” He moved to the next Senator. “Interesting… the droid displays unusual hostility toward the honorable Kin Robb.” He moved past the Duchess, already aware of the droid's feelings toward her, and headed to Senator Merrik. “But it seems to like you, Senator Merrik.”

You felt the shift in Senator Merrik, causing you to step closer and keep your hand on your saber.

“Well, Prince?” Obi-Wan questioned.

“Really, General Kenobi, you’re quite clever!” Merrik said. 

He quickly hit the plate from Obi-Wan’s hand, causing the droid to fly out and land on the table. The droid raced toward the Duchess but you quickly jumped on the table and killed it with your lightsaber. While you were distracted, and so was Obi-Wan, Merrik grabbed the Duchess and put a gun to her head. He slowly exited the room with her as his hostage. You and Obi-Wan glared as you watched, knowing you couldn’t go after them yet without him killing her right away. The pair of you used the Force to sense when the right time to begin sprinting down the hallway.

“Anakin! Tal Merrik is the traitor,” Obi-Wan exclaimed over the comlink, “and he’s taken Satine hostage.”

“Copy that,” Anakin responded, “but I’ve got problems of my own right now.”

“Of course he does,” you mumbled. You could feel Obi-Wan’s growing anxieties over the situation and sent your signature over to reassure him. 

“I can’t tell where they are!” Obi-Wan fretted as the two of you ran.

“Calm your mind, Obi.”

“I am calm!” He snapped. 

You inhaled sharply, he had never snapped at you like that. Actually, you hadn’t ever heard him snap at anyone. Obi-Wan immediately regretted what he had done when he noticed the look on your face and the sharp intake of breath. He longed to comfort you but knew that this wasn’t the right time. The two of you ran down another corridor, meeting Anakin running the opposite way.

“Did you find them?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No, but I’ve stationed troopers at every escape pod,” Anakin replied.

“Merrik will try to signal his allies for help,” you said. “We should try the cockpit.”

Obi-Wan nodded, leading you and Anakin as he raced to the elevator. You could feel the tension radiating from him as he glared at the elevator door.

“This may not be the time to ask,” Anakin began, “but were you and Satine ever—“

“I don’t see how that has any bearing on the situation at hand,” Obi-Wan argued.

You and Anakin made eye contact. You shook your head and you pled with your eyes for Anakin to stop. His questions and persistence in finding how deep Obi-Wan’s relationship with Satine went was only hurting you. The ship suddenly jolted, causing you to lose your balance and fall into Obi-Wan. He caught you easily, holding you to him to protect you from another jolt. He could feel you using the Force to sense what had just happened.

“Reinforcements,” you came to the conclusion. You looked up at Obi-Wan, not caring how close your faces were at the moment. “They’ve sent reinforcements.”

The three of you hurried out of the elevator to see clones rushing toward where the reinforcements were.

“I’ll take care of this, Obi-Wan,” Anakin reassured. “You, go find your girlfriend.” He rushed off.

“Right,” Obi-Wan agreed. The pang in your chest also hit his. “No, Anakin, she’s not my—“ He sighed.

“We should go,” you said, throat tight.

“Little star—“

You shook your head. “Now’s not the time to discuss this.”

You ran off toward the cockpit, Obi-Wan following. His frustration with himself was growing with each passing interaction with you. He kept screwing up. The two of you entered the cockpit and ignited your lightsabers. You looked around to notice that all the crew members had been killed. Merrik was at the other end, arm wrapped around the Duchesses neck and a small remote in his other hand.

“Come in, Kenobi,” Merrik taunted, “you’re expected.”

“Tal Merrik, you are under arrest,” Obi-Wan responded, pointing his saber at the man. “Release the Duchess.”

“Hmm.” Merrik slowly began moving toward the door. “I took the precaution of wiring the ship’s engines to explode. I press this remote and we all die.”

“Obi,” Satine called, “if you have any respect for me, you will not take such risks with so many people’s lives at stake.”

“Satine…” Obi-Wan said. Merrik moved closer to the door. “Don’t.”

Merrik kept moving back through the door. You and Obi-Wan slowly followed, a safe distance away. You followed them a ways down the hall before Merrik but his comlink to his mouth.

“This is Merrik. Stand by to disengage,” he ordered. “Say farewell, Duchess.”

“Obi-Wan, it looks like I may never see you again,” Satine said. “I don’t know quite how to say this, but I’ve loved you from the moment you came to my aid all those years ago.”

The cracks in your heart grew quickly, barely holding itself together. And now, since the bond had been reopened, Obi-Wan could feel it. He quickly made the conclusion, based on what he was feeling for you and how you had been acting, that your feelings toward him mimicked the ones he shared for you. He wanted to be overjoyed but he had to focus on the matter at hand. He had to focus on saving Satine.

“I don’t believe this,” Merrik scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Satine, this is hardly the time or place for—“ Obi-Wan cut himself off after looking at Satine’s pleading expression. He had to be careful with his next words. They were honest, but no longer what would happen if Satine lived. “Alright… had you said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order.”

There went the rest of your heart, crumbling to the ground. He cared for Satine so much, that he would leave the Order for her? You could never compare to that. Obi-Wan had to bite back a wince as he felt your heart shatter.

“That is touching. Truly it is,” Merrik commented. “But it’s making me sick, and we really must be going.”

“You have the romantic soul of a slug, Merrik,” Satine retorted before suddenly slamming one of her heels into his foot.

“Ow!”

Satine was able to grab Merrik’s gun and get away from him. “And slugs are so often trod upon.”

“Interesting turnabout, but even if I do not deliver the Duchess alive to the Separatists, I still win. The second I’m away, I’ll hit the remote and blow the Coronet to bits.”

“I will not allow that.”

“What will you do? If you shoot me, you prove yourself a hypocrite to every pacifist ideal you hold dear. And you, Kenobi, you are no stranger to violence. You’d be hailed as a hero by everyone on this ship. Well.. almost everyone. Then there’s Y/N, who has no skin in the game besides duty. So, come on, then. Who will strike first and brand themselves a cold-blooded killer?”

Before any of you could make a move, Anakin’s saber was plunged into Merrik from behind. Merrik died instantly, dropping the remote to the bomb. Anakin easily caught the falling remote before it could accidentally be hit. Satine quickly tossed the gun she was holding aside.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, disappointed.

“What?” Anakin questioned. “He was gonna blow up the ship.”

“Obi-Wan, I—“ Satine tried.

“General Skywalker, the last of the droids have been defeated, sir,” Cody informed Anakin, interrupting the Duchess as he ran in with Rex.

“Very good, Cody,” Anakins aid.

Satine turned away from Obi-Wan. “I must get back to the business of diplomacy,” she said, walking away.

Obi-Wan bowed. “as you say, Duchess, some other time,” he responded. 

Obi-Wan looked back and noticed you were seemingly in a trace. With his head, he motioned for Anakin to leave. Anakin looked at you and then nodded, taking the clones with him. Obi-Wan sighed as he came up to you and tried to take one of your hands. You pulled it from his grasp, looking at him with eyes filled with tears.

“I shouldn’t feel like this,” you rasped. “It’s against everything I was taught…”

“I understand the feeling,” Obi-Wan admitted.

“I… I need to know something, Obi-Wan, and I need you to be honest with me.”

“Of course.” Obi-Wan took a step toward you, wanting to be closer to you. 

“If Satine said the word now, would you leave the Jedi Order?”

Without an immediate verbal response, Obi-Wan’s hands slowly came up to gently hold your face. “No,” he whispered. “Not when everything I want is in the Order.”

“Obi—“

You didn’t get to finish what you were saying because Obi-Wan’s lips had captured yours. It took a moment for you to respond but when you did, your arms came around his waist, pulling him closer to you. The Force inside of you and around you felt lighter. Happier, almost. Obi-Wan could feel it too. He eventually broke the kiss, but barely moved his head back. He looked into your eyes with such a love that you thought you could drown in them.

“I am so sorry for my mistakes,” he whispered. “I am so sorry for the pain that this assignment has caused you… my feelings do not lie with Satine, but with you, my little star. I believe they have since the moment you walked back into mine and Anakin’s lives.”

“Oh, Obi,” you breathed down, feeling as if this was all a dream. “And mine lie with you.”

A smile broke out on Obi-Wan’s face before he kissed you again. The two of you could feel your bond growing in strength once again, repairing the damage you two had both endured while shielding out one another. It was amazing how the Jedi Order taught against attachments, that they led to the dark side. But neither of you had felt a light, or strength, like this in your lives. 

next chapter >

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[purlturtle]

Bering and Wells Advent Calendar, Day 10

Never Get Involved With Your Flatmate, a collaborative writing event: everyone writes one chapter of a loosely connected getting together AU!

Here's my contribution for Day 10:

#10: Never let Helena give you a back rub

But then what do you do when Helena has such good arguments, and you really don't?

(fic is under the readmore, or on AO3 if you want! The whole AO3 collection is here!)

Myka will never ever let Helena put her hands on her again. She can still feel her skin tingling and burning where Helena’s hands have rested on her skin while Myka was on the rowing machine. Her back and her wrist and her forearm and her shoulder and her side—

She can also very much feel every single muscle she overtaxed on that damn contraption.

She groans and peels herself out of bed – it’s Sunday, and she has the day off, thank god. On the other hand, work would at least offer a distraction from her soreness. She groans some more and goes through a little routine of stretches, still in her PJs. At the end of those, she isn’t necessarily in less pain, but at least a bit more limber – and she knows even better which muscles she overtaxed.

She wraps herself in her bathrobe, puts on her thickest socks, and goes to take the hottest shower she can stand.

And if her skin still tingles afterwards, well, that’s just because the shower was so hot, not because Helena touched it. It wasn’t even all skin; on Myka’s back and on her side it was Myka’s shirt she touched, not Myka’s skin. And she’s never gonna touch any part of Myka again, and then everything will be fine.

That resolution lasts until afternoon.

Myka has been sitting and reading – an enjoyable activity, and Helena joining her at around two was enjoyable too. No hands touching anyone’s shirt or skin, no bodies in motion looking toned, just sitting together in amicable silence, each reading her own book. But then Myka moves to shift her legs to the other side, and god it hurts, and she can’t help groaning softly.

“What’s wrong?” Helena asks immediately, book lowered and eyes worried.

Myka shakes her head. “Just sore,” she admits. “It’s fine; it’ll pass.”

“Oh!” goes Helena, and gets up from her easy chair. “I have something for that. Just one moment, darling!” And before Myka can protest (or even process the goddamn “darling” cropping up again), Helena has hurried out of the room. She’s back only moments later, with a tube of ointment in her hand that she holds out to Myka. “I always rub this into my muscles when I’m sore,” she says, “it’s a godsend. I promise you’ll feel nothing at all tomorrow if you put this on.”

Myka looks at the tube’s label; she’s never heard of this brand before, but she has used Icy Hot and similar before, and she nods and takes the tube from Helena and winces as the motion twinges from her wrist all along her arm and into her back.

“Shall I help you?” Helena offers. “You can hardly put this on your own back, right?”

“No!” Myka bursts out. She’s blushing again, damnit. “No,” she repeats in what she hopes are calm and measured tones, “it’s alright.”

“Don’t try to tell me your back isn’t sore, Myka,” Helena says sternly.

Myka bites her lips together in mortification; her blush is burning in her cheeks. “It’s fine,” she brings out, “I’ll, ah… I’ll ask Pete. Later.” Because Pete is very much not in the building right now; he’s out on a Christmas market date, with Kelly, or perhaps Amanda, Myka isn’t sure.

“Nonsense, darling.”

There is that darling again. Myka’s ears are burning now.

And Helena is holding out her hand imperiously, even flexes her fingers for Myka to give her back the ointment. “Adults, remember?” she says, and Myka has no excuses left; she can’t very well go and say “I have this rule where I won’t let you touch me again because even though it was yesterday and through my t-shirt and I took a super-hot shower in the meantime, my skin still tingles.”

So she says “Fine,” and hands over the ointment. And gathers her hair, and lets Helena ruck up her sweater and the t-shirt she wears underneath and oh god Helena is unhooking her bra. “Helena!” she squeals, clutching a whole lot of fabric to her front that does nothing, of course, to cover her back.

“You don’t expect me to go under your bra strap, do you? Or get the ointment all over the fabric? Don’t be silly.”

Yes, Myka, Myka tells herself, don’t be silly. Just sit there and relax while Helena’s fingers and palms and fingertips and deft and calloused and gentle and no-nonsense and soft and oh god that was a groan you just groaned. A groan of pleasure. Of relief, of course, just relief, just sore muscles giving up their tension. You groaned. She wants to say sorry, but now it’s been too long to apologize; it would just make things weird, and Helena would probably ask “what on Earth are you apologizing for, darling?” in that ridiculously attractive voice of hers and that would make things worse and no, it’s definitely too late now.

“You really are tense, Myka,” Helena remarks, and it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to say under the circumstances, because hell yes Myka is tense, and Helena’s hands are both helping and very much not helping at all. “I believe the hotel has a massage therapist on call, for guests. Perhaps a fitting Christmas gift, if you’d let me?”

The only reply Myka can give is a strangled hum of assent – the close proximity of “massage” and “you” and “me” is fusing every single one of her thought processes.

And then, finally, Helena takes her hands off of Myka’s back, hooks her bra closed, and tugs the shirt and sweater down. “There,” she says, “all better, isn’t it?”

Myka just nods; she doesn’t trust her voice, and seeks refuge in tucking in her shirt and smoothing down her sweater. Then, she clears her throat and says, “Yes, thank you,” all calm and appreciative and appropriate.

Helena hands her the tube again. “For the rest of your body,” she says. And winks.

Myka flees, before Helena can offer to put her hands on the rest of her body.

#BeringWellsAdvent23 #day 10 #Rule Number 10: #Never let Helena give you a back rub #warehouse 13 #bering and wells #helena g wells #helena wells #myka bering #tumblr fic #my fic #mini fic #fic collaboration

[dear-mrs-otome]

Silvio Ricci - Your Fault I'm So Horknee Event - Premium End

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes when they come to English.

Note: This story event, like others recently, requires one to finish the Sweet End before the Premium can be chosen. The Premium is an expansion on and slight continuation of the events of the Sweet, but from the suitor POV - as is the epilogue. This post contains the Premium end only. The beginning of the story and the Sweet end can be found here. I will post the Epilogue separately.

~~~~~~~~

After he’d brought her home from Rhodolite to Benitoite, the problem became glaringly obvious. 

“...There’s way more,” Silvio says.

“There is more,” Carlo agrees.

They’re looking over the vast quantity of things filling up Silvio’s room, enough to leave him stunned. All gifts, but not a one addressed to him - they’re all for her. 

It’s not necessarily a bad thing…but it rubs him wrong. “Toss them all in the storehouse,” he instructs Carlo.

Carlo asks whether he should give the report of it all to Emma. Silvio tells him no need, but that he should hold onto it so it can be given to her at some point down the line.

“And when will that be?” Carlo asks. 

Silvio frowns. “I don’t know. But at the very least, not now." He says that getting so many gifts will only trouble her.

The only people who are circling her now are merchants with entrepreneurial designs, the sort who would only see her as a tool to use…and it’s not a pleasant feeling. But above all, none of these gifts are fitting for Emma, given that she values the sorts of things money can’t buy.

Emma isn’t some tool to be used for business. What the hell do you all think you’re doing with my girl?

That’s just how business works - schmoozing is part and parcel of the deal. But when it comes to her, he has a hard time being objective about it. He knows better than anyone how empty relationships based around money are. 

“...As good a man as always…” Carlo says softly, and Silvio grabs him by the head, scowling, until a flailing Carlo swears he won’t say it again.

“I’m not a good person. I just don’t like it,” Silvio corrects him.

I should be the only one to give Emma gifts in the first place. 

He can’t claim to not want to keep that privilege all to himself.

~~~~~~~~

It’s important that Emma be made known to many people, especially given that she can’t avoid social life if she’s to be the next king’s consort. Receiving gifts also falls under the umbrella of official duties…but people’s assessing stares are just too much for him to bear. That’s the sort of selfishness that has him keeping her from talking to others.

“You’re too overprotective, Silvio,” she says to him aboard the ship at the launch party, saying she’s figured out why he won’t let her speak with people.

He’s a bit taken aback at her proclamation that she’s figured out the truth…and it’s only made worse when she hits the nail on the head. Realizing she’s seen right through him.

Emma’s no fool, he knows…but she doesn’t seem ready to rebuke him for being selfish, much to his relief. 

She lays out how he only steps in when people try to dig, and he’s not surprised by how observant she is as the former Belle. 

“...It bothers me,” he admits. “All they care about is taking advantage of you.” He says he knows that’s partly just how the business world works, but he hates the idea of everything being about money when it comes to her. “Relationships built solely on money are hollow.”

You’re the one who made me realize that.

After she hears him out, she takes a deep breath, and declares she’s got to get better. Has to build relationships that move beyond marks on the ledger. Surprised by her proclamation and the way she seems so confident about it. 

There are few women who would choose to change themselves rather than complain about their situations, in his experience, and he’s overwhelmed by how stinking adorable she is right now. Somehow barely managing to hold himself back. 

Instead he comments on how she’s cheeky like that…but to himself he thinks that maybe he was too overprotective, and stifling her. She’s not incapable.

“You’d better come through on this, or I really won’t let you talk to anyone,” he threatens on a smile, and she assures him she’s got this. 

I’ve ignored your will…he admits to himself, vowing to fix that.

She assures him she’s not as weak as he might think, and he concedes that - and also his difficulties in figuring out the right path to take when it comes to her. Whether to be strict or to coddle her. And when he says as much, she seems to be smiling with great amusement before enthusiastically telling him she doesn’t mind him being a bit harsh, she can take it and not let him down.

“Is that so…” Inside, he’s pleading with her to have mercy on him and stop saying such precious things in public.

“Then I’ll stop coddling you. I’m going to be strict with you.”

He reaches out to her without thinking - desperately wanting to hug her, after so long without. Then realizing that he doesn’t think just a hug will be enough. But she takes a step back for some reason, and he doesn’t mean to protest so loudly but he does. “I said I’d stop babying you, the ban should be lifted.”

She admits she didn’t mean to move away, and he demands she not do so then - silently begging her to hurry up and give in, because he doesn’t think he can take any more of this. 

Or is she doing it on purpose?

When he moves in again, she backs up again, and he doesn’t understand why. She protests that they’re somewhere public, AKA on board, and everyone could be watching, but he doesn’t see the problem given that she’s his woman.

“It’s…embarrassing, isn’t it?” she asks.

Something seems to snap inside of him at that. Hunting her down, he tries to trap her against the wall, blaming her for all this and telling her to take responsibility - the two of them devolving in to bickering and chasing each other heedless of the party.

If I don’t have to go easy on her, then I don’t have to hold back on wanting her, right? he reasons.

~~~~~~~~

In the end, Emma proves the tougher opponent. Winning the on-board chase, and refusing to lift the no-touch ban even when they’re in the carriage on the way home. 

“No more objections?” he asks, once they’ve returned to his room, but her response is tepid at best. And he doesn’t comprehend why she keeps her distance, almost as if wary of him. “Why are you acting like that? I thought you lifted the ‘no-touch’ ban.”

“I did. I did, but…I’m just weirdly nervous, because I haven’t been touched by you in awhile,” she explains.

“Huh?” he scowls.

She tries to tell him she’s gotta mentally prep herself, after so long, and he’s simultaneously scoffing aloud at that while internally wailing over how cute she is. 

Anything resembling reason is utterly gone by now - leaving behind only beastly, irresistible desire.

“You told me I could touch you as much as I wanted to when we got back to my room, didn’t you?” he reminds her, and she haltingly affirms. “If you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be touched, I’ll remind you.”

If she’s not giving him the red light, he’s not about to take it easy, or to stop. He backs her into the corner of the room and sweeps her up into his arms before dropping a flustered Emma down atop the table, savoring the long-absent feeling of her warmth.

“Silvio…mnn.”

He kisses her, hard, to stop her words when she tries to object…and her hesitation about being touched doesn’t seem to extend to being kisses, because she seems to remember how to do so just fine. Her tongue meeting his halfway eagerly.

He knows she’s been wanting this for awhile now, badly. A longing look in her eyes whenever she touched him, whether she was aware of it or not…but he’s been painfully so.

Aloud, he accuses her of having really put him through the wringer as he carefully peels off the dress that had been made just for today and kneels on the floor. Emma coming out of her kiss-fueled daze and back to her senses. 

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“You’ll see,”he promises.

She flails at that and he takes her legs and spreads them firmly apart, over her embarrassed protests.

“Ten days,” he says, and she doesn’t follow. “”It’s been ten days since I last touched you. I’ll have you regretting you ever made me endure it that long.”

He’s been teased so much, nothing remains but painful desire. Pressing his lips to the tip of her toe, he kisses a slow path upwards - Emma making half-protests the entire time, but it’s obvious her heart isn’t in them. 

To himself, he blames her for all of this, for being so cute. All on her entirely.

Working his way up past her knees, trailing kisses up her thighs - higher, to the place he knows will get him the best reaction of all…

(Silvio’s desire level: 150)

~~~~~~~~

<< Sweet End || Epilogue >> (TBC)

#spoiler #spoilers #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #mrs o loves salty seadogs #mrs o's translations of dubious quality #ikepri jp summary

[lightlycareless]

the valentines day special is coming up y'all...

You weren’t the only one excited for this day, by far, albeit for other… reasons.

Made into a well-kept secret, Naoya, heir of the Zen’in, was impatiently waiting for the day he’d effectively label himself as the best catch there ever was—

And win your affection.

Although he’ll have to admit that achieving this feat wasn’t all too easy as he once expected, less with the unwanted advancements valentine’s day brought upon.

Was it a matter of not getting chocolates? Even with his reputation, he still managed to bag a few. Naoya was handsome and rich after all, things that didn’t necessarily need to intertwine with a good personality in order for someone to like him.

The problem here was that none of the gifts he got that day belonged to you, and that put him in a very, very bad mood.

More so when learning that Geto was the one stealing his rightful spot.

“How come he got chocolates from her, and not me?!” Naoya would cry to his best friend, Ranta, as soon as classes were over. The poor kid, although miles away and safeguarded by the other side of the line, still recoiled in surprise by his tone. “What, am I not good enough for Y/N?!”

“I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t say that necessarily, Naoya.” Ranta attempts to comfort him, whatever he can through his friend’s frantic state anyways. “From what you told me, Geto is really popular, right?”

“I’m popular too.” Naoya quickly responds.

But not for the right reasons, Ranta holds his tongue from saying, instead, he sighs.

“Just take it as what it was—a popular guy getting chocolates; that’s all. He must’ve gotten a thousand, he probably didn’t even notice.”

Damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t. Naoya is quickly irritated by the notion of your efforts being disregarded.

“I would’ve noticed!”

“Then do it.” Ranta says, Naoya frowns, confused. “White day is next month; it’ll be the perfect moment to let her know of your feelings!”

“What?—no. She has to come to me.” He corrected, Ranta does his best to not groan out of exasperation.

“Naoya, have you even spoken to her outside of jujutsu stuff?”

Nope. Not at all. And yet, Naoya already envisioned you’d be the one he’d marry.

“Then start by something simple.” Ranta continues. “Just simple letter telling her your feelings and how you’d like to know her better can go a long way.”

“But I don’t—men aren’t supposed to do that.”

“Well, what you won’t, maybe Geto will.”

#shhhh #leaf.talks

[tonytonwy]

people pleaser

futakuchi kenji x f!reader

w.c 2900-ish

summary: where futakuchi kenji isn't as mean or disrespectful as other people have told you

Shit.

You softly bite your lip as you realize Mai is in a different class. She gives a reassuring pat on your shoulder as you try to find anyone you spoken to before; however, your eyes get stuck on one name.

Futakuchi Kenji.

You had heard of Futakuchi before, mainly by Mai's ramblings, but he was… known, not necessarily good things but he had a bit of a reputation. He had issues with talking back to upperclassmen and fighting for marks with teachers. You had spoken to him once or twice but can't even remember what it was about.

“There’s a reason you’re all seated this way,” You try to hide in your beige sweater, the green blazer on your skirt. You try to ease your breathing as you feel Futakuchi eye you down, probably wondering why you're completely avoiding his gaze.

Fuck.

Your teacher, a young man with dark curly hair leans on his desk, “if you notice, you're probably seated with people you never thought you’d talk to.” You subtly nod, a window on one side and Futakuchi on the other wasn’t exactly the way you planned the year to go.

“I want you to speak to people with a different opinion to you, if you’re quiet, be loud. If you’re a bit of a dick, maybe be nice.” He looks at Futakuchi, who simply stares at him back, giving a tight smile. You nervously bounce your leg on the floor, side-eyeing Futakuchi. He was currently doodling on his notebook, ignoring everything the teacher was saying. His long legs are spread out, your eyes are slowly draw to his hands. They're long but in a soft and almost dainty way. You can't help but look at your own; rough and your nails are uneven, nothing like his. Despite his broad shoulders, his wrists are skinny and you can only imagine what the rest of his body looks like. You have to admit, he's quite attractive. You don't remember him being this easy on the eyes last year.

You look away before you can be caught.

“Ah, also, I may have sat the two best math students together on purpose.” You notice how Futakuchi’s head lifts, actually listening now. You mentally sweat, hoping that there was a student that got better grades than you. However, the teacher’s quick and teasing glance at you make your mouth slightly open in shock. “I think friendly competitions are good. That’s right, Futakuchi,” the teacher points at him suddenly, “you’re no longer the best student. You have a rival in this class.”

“I’m sure they won’t be hard to beat.” Your teacher gives a laugh. He appears to know Futakuchi and his personality already. You can't say the same but in a, incredibly, weird way, you want to.

<3

“Thank you, y/n, you’re the best! This is the last time, promise.” You give a small smile as your classmate gives you a side hug and she runs off, your pristine notebook in her hand. You stretch and let out a big sigh; she had said the same thing last week.

“God, you’re such a people pleaser,” Futakuchi says rudely, his eyes glaring at your classmate who is quickly copying your work before the teacher arrives. He clicks his tongue in disapproval, an annoying habit of his, and shoves his hands into his blazer’s pockets. His notebook open with the answers to the homework and a slick black pen. “She’s too dumb to do basic algebra.”

“That’s a bit mean,” you slightly shuffle so you can look at him properly, “she might have personal issues going on.” The sarcasm in deep in your voice as he snorts, shaking his head. Futakuchi caught on pretty early that you were the other top student as everyone asked you for help. By pretty early, the third day of school, and since then, everyday, without fail, he would ask how much you studied and what's your 'loser face' like (you refuse to show him, obviously). And now with the results of first test arriving, you feel Futakuchi’s excitement as your stomach is full of nerves.

“Yeah, clearly personal issues going on,” as he says that the girl laughs loudly with her friends, forgetting about your notebook fast. You couldn’t wait for class to end. You feel a sudden whack on the back of your head and turn your head as Futakuchi has a bored expression, as if he didn’t just hit you. You smile in shock and as you open your mouth to talk, his blabbermouth beats you to it.

“I bet you’re the type of person to be in a rush and somehow,” he adds suspense for some reason, “you’d still help a person who's dropped their groceries. Or let someone convince you to join their cult or whatever.” You can only stare at him in silence for a few seconds before actually laughing, and you can see a glint of pride in Futakuchi’s eyes.

“Well, that definitely hasn’t happened before.” You say, eyes rolling. Futakuchi can only shake his head. Despite your initial fears, talking to Futakuchi in class became normal. Sure, he would tease you constantly and distract you , but it was weirdly easy to tease him back and, to just talk.

“You know what? You should tell people," he shifts his chair so he's closer and you lean in, he's practically whispering the last bit, "to..."

"to...?" You whisper, confused.

"to fuck off." He says fast and simple and you give a small laugh, shaking your head in disapproval. "And stop being a people-pleaser, it's gross."

Before you can respond back, your teacher hops in, a stack of paper in one hand and a red pen in the other.

You feel an annoying but all too similar soft kick to the bottom of your chair. You don’t even bother giving him a glance, you already know what his question is going to be.

“What did you get?” Futakuchi says, ignoring the teacher’s glare and your head remains down, finishing the last section of the questions you got wrong. “Are you ignoring me?”

“Did you not tell me to stop being a people pleaser?” Your voice is harsh but you turn and give a cheeky smile. His mouth is wide open, a smile starting to form and his eyes are full of disbelief. Pride swells in your chest and you wish you had a camera to take a picture of Futakuchi's face.

“Wow, using my advice against me?” He scrunches up a small piece of paper and flicks it to your face, hitting your nose. “That’s messed up.”

“Futakuchi, please stop bothering your neighbour.” You quickly put your head down and feel your cheeks heat up as people stare and Futakuchi sulks in his seat. His tongue clicks again, slightly quieter this time. “You can bother her when you get a higher grade than her.” Your eyes widen and whip your head to see how Futakuchi’s eyebrows twitch in annoyance at the teacher’s teasing.

The class continues in silent before you see another piece of paper arrive at your desk. You look at Futakuchi, unimpressed with his attempted to communicate. He shrugs before showing you his paper, a clear red 88 on the corner.

You hesitantly look at the paper, firstly, afraid of this paper being a death threat and secondly, being caught by the teacher.

How tf did you get a higher grade than me? You purse your lips, a smile threatening to come out. You quickly write a response and give a deep breathe before throwing to him, if he killed you, at least you would die a winner.

By doing your mum.

You cover your mouth as you hear Futakuchi loudly laugh, the teacher once again turning. He covers his mouth, clearly not expecting for you to write such a thing.

“Care to share Futakuchi?” The teacher’s tone slightly more serious now.

“Nah, I’m good.” he says quickly, and writes on the other side of the paper you threw. You try to work but your eyes go to him, wondering what Futakuchi could possibly be writing. You quickly get the other paper, scrunched and your hands feel electric as you open the paper.

You're definitely not a people pleaser anymore, quite the opposite actually.

It's not long before he bothers you again.

“What did you get?” Futakuchi pokes your shoulder, and you pull your tongue out, not bothered to answer. “Real mature, c’mon,” He leans in, but you swat your paper against his face.

“Don’t be snoopy,” he looks unimpressed and scoffs before folding his arms. “Futakuchi, you’re such a baby.” You give a small laugh as he pulls the middle finger.

“l/n and Futakuchi, last warning,” your back straightens significantly as your teacher gives a small nod and you can hear Futakuchi choke a laugh over your nerdiness.

“Teacher’s pet,” he says, glancing at you once the teacher faces the board again.

“At least I got a higher score than you,” you give a small smile while continuing to write down the teachers notes, and you feel Futakuchi’s glare on you.

The class passes by fast, as classmates come and ask for your help in explaining certain equations. However, you still feel those pair of eyes on you.

<3

As you walk out to the lockers you see Futakuchi, leaning on the wall on his phone. Despite being able to talk to him in class, being fully alone with him was a completely different situation.

“Waiting for Aone?” he turns and before he can glare, he gives a small smile. You go on your knees and put your school shoes into your locker as he fully turns and squats with you.

“Yep,” his face is serious and stoic, “so what did you actually get?” your face drops and you try to not smile over his persistent attitude.

“I wasn’t aware that you still cared,” you see his cheeks go slightly pink for once, “fine, I got a 92.”

“Bullshit,” he says but you open your bag and elegantly pass your paper, a clear bright red 92 in the corner. Futakuchi clicks his tongue, once again. “It’s because the teacher loves you.”

“Don’t belittle my efforts,” you put your leather shoes on as he slightly nudges you so you slightly trip, you give a quick glare that makes him laugh. “It’s not my fault you fight every teacher on every test.”

“I know my worth,” you snort over his arrogance as he stares at your calculations, his eyebrows furrowed, “also you deserve a mark here.”

“What?” You feel your heart drop and immediately lean to your test and see your working out, shoulders touching with Futakuchi. You ignore his breathe hitch, you ignore how warm he is, and you definitely ignore his cologne. “No, I don’t. I forgot to round it.”

“He said that correct units were the additional mark, not rounding, so he forgot to add a mark for that.” He folds the paper and hits your forehead, “you deserve a 94 instead of a 92, at least.”

“It’s just two percent,” you say shyly, grabbing the paper while standing up, “I doubt that’ll change my overall grade.” You didn’t want to fight the teacher, he treated you nicely every time you needed help with a question.

“You worked hard for this test,” he stands up as well, his long legs contrasting yours. His eyes staring at you for way too long, he gives a small sigh before rubbing his neck. “You deserve the grade you studied for.”

Oh.

Oh.

You don’t know why it tugs your heart, the acknowledgment of your hard work and for Futakuchi, of all people, to see it. It does something to your stomach and you feel your cheeks heat up, your feet feel stuck to the floor and your hands are suddenly clammy.

“I’ll ask him about it tomorrow,” you push the paper back in your bag, your stomach heavy with nerves. You suddenly feel insecure, did you even bother fixing your hair? Is your skirt too long? Face too blemished? You feel your sweater cling to you, in a unflattering way.

You avoid his eyes and walk past, not sure what to do with this flush of emotions. “See you tommorrow.”

"Wait," you quickly turn and Futakuchi awkwardly walks up to you, face slightly pink, "I'll walk you to the gate."

"Why?" He avoids your eyes and instead looks to the side.

"Loser's etiquette," he gives a dorky smile and you can't help but laugh.

"Sure, it's dangerous times to be walking alone to a school gate." He snorts and lightly pushes you.

"Shut up," despite his tone, he's smiling. You push him back and you both are in the strange game of pushing each other until the end of the gate. You take a deep breathe and look at Futakuchi, who's looking around to see if there's any other students.

“Thank you, I would’ve never noticed that mistake. I will actually talk to the teacher about it.” You have a serious face before Futakuchi laughs, eyes crinkling and you have to laugh with him over your dramatic style.

“No worries, it has to be a fair competition after all,” you shake your head giving a small smile. You lightly punch Futakuchi, who acts as though you have the strength of a body builder.

“Your mercifulness is going to be the end of you.” You start to walk off, your heart feeling a bit lighter.

“This is my first and last time helping you, y/n.” You give a small wave before giving him the finger.

“Good to know, because I won’t need it again!” You shout, not taking a second to glance at him despite the temptation to do so. Futakuchi laughs before disappearing back into the school.

<3

“Thank you for telling me l/n! Jeez I can’t believe I missed that.” Your math teacher gives a thumbs up, a big smile on his face. He couldn't be more than 25.

“Uhm, Futakuchi told me, actually,” You shyly give credit to him, and you see your teacher's surprised face appear, his mouth wide open.

“Futakuchi helped you? Even though he’s second?” You nod, your face heating up the more you think about it, last night you had been asking yourself the same questions. Your teacher gives a chuckle, “I have never heard of him helping anyone besides himself and Aone.”

“Yeah… He said he wanted a fair competition.” Your teacher let out a loud laugh.

“God, he’s a softie. What a stupid excuse,” he adds a red circle to your new mark. “I’m glad you’re seating next to him,” He gives a smile, “you're too nice to everyone.” Your eyebrows slightly frown as you recall Futakuchi said something similar.

“Mister Moniwa, do you know Futakuchi?” You ask, seemingly out of nowhere and your teacher tilts his head, pondering how he should answer.

“Our mums are friends,” you let a small ‘oh’, “plus, my little brother is Futakuchi’s captain.” You nod, still feeling curious about Futakuchi.

“Do you like Futakuchi always coming up to you to fight about his grade?”

“Well, I’ve known him since I was young,” he says, smiling, “funnily enough, I was his tutor when he was in middle school. So, I don't really mind. I know he's competitive.”

"I could tell early on," you laugh as you think about all the other times Moniwa has made a lesson a competition so Futakuchi would actually participate.

“Is there a reason you’re so curious about Futakuchi?” You feel your face heat up as he peers into your face.

“Uh, no,” you fiddle with your fingers, “he just seems, so confident.” Your comment surprises Moniwa, who’s eyes widen before giving a soft smile.

“That's one way to see him."

As you walk away you finally look at your paper you see a ‘96’ scribbled and a small comment.

Clearly Futakuchi ‘missed’ the other mark you got on the last page! Tell him off for me.

You shake your head; he definitely saw that mark. You practically speed walk to the class, excited to see your 'rival'.

“You asshole,” you slam your paper on his desk, “you saw the other mark, didn’t you?” Futakuchi eyes widen before giving a smug face.

“Why, I have no clue what you mean, dear y/n.”

"Oh my god,” you laugh before sitting down in your chair, giving him a shocked look. “Here I thought you were genuinely trying to help me achieve my maximum potential.” He laugh before sitting up straight, stretching his body.

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’, “I can’t give you all the answers, now can I?”

“Yes, you can.” You say, lightly hitting your shoe against his.

“I can’t believe you got 96,” his tongue clicks, “impressive.”

“Why thank you, but it’s…” You try to maintain eye-contact, despite your face becoming a hot mess, “it’s, uhm, thanks to you, Futakuchi.” You rub your neck awkwardly as you wait for him to say anything at this point. His eyes widen as you say his name, and you quickly realize you've never called him by his name.

“Uhm, it’s okay, you already got a higher score than me so why not give you a bit of a boost up.” He coughs, clearing his throat up, ears slightly red. “You clearly needed it… Plus, probability is my bitch, so I’ll ace the next test.”

You slowly glare at him, a million thoughts going through your head.

“I’ll bet… That I’ll ace it harder than you,” you leave your hand out for a handshake, “probability is everyone’s bitch.”

His classic smug smile comes out, his hand drumming on his desk, actually thinking about the logistics of this bet. However, his hand slides into yours, giving a small squeeze.

“Deal.”

note: hope u enjoyed it, first time writing futakuchi ahh, can u tell the parts i rlly enjoyed writing??

#haikyuu!! #futakuchi kenji #x reader #fluff #he's such a menace but he's my menace #we need more content of this horrible man #i have an idea for aone but we shall see #also if u saw the beta post of this fic... no u didn't #if u see any errors pls tell me #i'm terrible at english #date tech #aye maybe prequel in futakuchi's pov #bc obviously we have to kdrama it and he obviously knew you from before #2am writing?? more likely than you think

[docexe-mx]

Some belated thoughts on Boruto manga’s chapter 80

We have officially reached the time skip, a critical juncture for the story. Just at the same time, the manga decided to go on hiatus, almost a month after the anime did the same.

The manga’s absence will be short lived as it returns in August, so the hiatus is clearly for purposes of giving the creative team more time to prepare for the next arc. The anime, meanwhile, might take longer to return as I presume they’ll wait until the manga gets a good amount of material so it doesn’t catch up too quickly.

On the one hand, it makes sense the anime is taking a break given they had reached a point where they had little material left to adapt from the manga and it wasn’t easy to insert any more filler or original arcs. 

On the other hand, I think it would have been better if they had adapted the rest of the Eida arc and finished “part I” on the current manga chapter before going on hiatus. I guess the Studio didn’t know the time skip was about to come or preferred to prioritize the celebration of the OG anime anniversary, given there’s going to be commemorative episodes from it later this year.

As to the content of the actual chapter itself, a few impressions with spoilers after the cut:

Honestly, as critical as this chapter is for the rest of the story, I feel that it was a bit rushed towards the end, but I have to admit I find the set-up intriguing. It’s essentially a twisted mirror of what happened at the end of Naruto’s part I: In the original series, Sasuke willingly abandons Konoha to become a missing nin in pursue of his revenge, while Naruto vows to bring him back and leaves on a training trip in order to become stronger. Here, with everyone’s memories of him altered, Boruto is framed for a crime he didn’t commit and forced to become a missing nin and abandon Konoha, while Kawaki vows to hunt him down and kill him in order to put an end to the Ootsutsuki clan.

Ironically, Sasuke also became a missing nin again but for completely different reasons: This time he helped Boruto escape and will be traveling with him in order to train him and protect him at the behest of Sarada. In a way, that also makes him parallel Jiraiya’s mentorship role in the original series even further. As an aside, him saying that even if he can’t trust his own memories he will always trust his daughter was a nice touch.

As I suspected, all this mess was engineered by Momoshiki himself in an attempt to break down Boruto spirit and take definitive control over his body. But just to show that the apple never falls far from the tree, in spite of how dire is his current situation, Boruto doesn’t let it brought him down and vows to become stronger and eventually return to fix things with Kawaki. I have to say that while the kid didn’t exactly start as one of my favorite Shonen protagonists, he definitely has become one after this chapter.

Eida got a few more points in my book as well, given how she apologized to Boruto for the mess caused by her Omnipotence Shinjutsu and decided to help him a little by refusing to share his location with Kawaki or Shikamaru. We also learn that even if she dies, the effects of her Shinjutsu won’t dispel. I wonder if there’s any possibility of she eventually learning how to control her powers (at least to a certain extent) in order to reverse the damage.

Sarada awakening the Mangekyo Sharingan in response to Boruto’s plight is a massive piece of BoruSara ship teasing, especially if you remember that, in the manga, Sarada didn’t awaken her Sharingan out of trauma or stress like the rest of her clan bur rather out of love: She awakened it specifically due to the excitement of finally meeting her father. I’m not necessarily complaining given I do like the pairing. I’m just extremely wary and already tired of the inevitable shipping wars that will come because this fandom never changes.

Naruto and Hinata are safe and sound, both in a state of unconsciousness akin to suspended animation. Time is stopped in the dimension that Kawaki sent them, so neither one will age or suffer from inanition while trapped there. It’s very likely they weren’t affected by Eida’s spell, so that will make things… interesting when/if they’re freed from there.

It seems Code is still building his army from the Juubi’s body. With his memories altered by Eida, all of his hatred towards Kawaki has now transferred to Boruto, so it seems like he plans to hunt him down as well. I guess that means he won’t attack Konoha for a while.

The chapter ended leaving a LOT of pressing questions unanswered, hence why I felt like it was rushed towards the end. Some of the more pressing ones:

Why are Sarada and Sumire immune to Eida’s power? Are they the only ones immune to the Shinjutsu or are there more people unaffected as well? If there are more people that were unaffected, does that mean Boruto and Sasuke might find allies during their travel?

What happened to Himawari? Was she also affected by the Omnipotence Shinjutsu and had the memories of her beloved brother rewritten? And if she wasn’t affected (which might be a possibility related to the strong “intensity” that Daemon felt from her) how is she going to react to Kawaki’s actions and the rest of the village turning against her brother?

For that matter, while we know the Shinjutsu overwrote the memories of people regarding Boruto and Kawaki, what about all the physical evidence that exists contradicting the new history? All the video, photos, documents and records that exists showing that Boruto is the Hokage son: Did all of those disappear? Were they altered by the Shinjutsu? Or is people’s perception of them altered so, to put an example, if someone looks at a photo of Boruto with his family they will see Kawaki there instead?

Now that most people think that Naruto is dead, what will happen to Konoha’s leadership? Will Kakashi return to the position as 6th Hokage? Will they name a successor?

I hope all of these questions get answered when the manga returns for the time skip.

#naruto #boruto naruto next generations #spoilers #analysis #criticism #uzumaki boruto #kawaki #uchiha sasuke #eida #uchiha sarada #ootsutsuki momoshiki

[katsuizu-stuff]

bkdk fanfic ideas because i have to many and can’t do them all, so here’s something nobody asked for but will get…

katsuki ends up finding a diary at school he takes it with him and when he gets home he ends up opening it and as he reads it the diary is just full page after page about him. and the more katsuki reads he ends up wondering who wrote it just to see who has fallen for him and has been for, clearly, a while

when he ends up finding out that it’s deku he has no idea what to do or say because he never thought that izuku would fallen for him since he bully’s him

(This is sorta kinda like Cinderella)

izuku is a yandare and he does anything and all in his power to ‘take out’ all those who want to take his kacchan away but the one who gets in the way and he can’t ‘take out’ is (insert character) because katsuki won’t leave his or her side

but eventually, after trying so many times, izuku gets (said character) and instead of quickly ‘taking (character’s name) out’ he decides to ‘play’ with (character name) just to see how katsuki would react and relish his kacchan’s emotions he’s never seen before but eventually katsuki finds out and the most unexpected thing happens because katsuki confesses he’s being doing the same thing

literally almost any disney princess movie/story line

cinderella

cinderella: izuku

prince charming: katsuki

the little mermaid

ariel: izuku

prince eric: katsuki

beauty and the beast

belle: katsuki

beast: izuku

aladdin

jasmine: katsuki (only because katsuki would look so awesome with a pet tiger or lion, something along those lines)

aladdin: izuku

ect…

Katsuki gets hit with a quirk that makes him grow cat ears for 24hrs. and everyone is obsessed and want to touch his cat ears but he won’t let them

But Katsuki also notices that Izuku has been keeping his distance ever since Katsuki got hit with the quirk and at night (before the cat ears disappear) Katsuki goes to Izuku’s dorm room and confronts him and Izuku is nervous af but ends up admitting he was trying to keep his distance because he was the one most obsessed with the cat ears and wanted to touch them and at the end Katsuki gives in letting only Izuku touch the ears

(This can also happen but instead of Katsuki getting hit with cat ears Izuku gets hit and gets bunny ears)

Izuku gets hit with a quirk which makes him fall hard for the first person he sees and of course he sees Katsuki first and now he won’t leave him alone. Izuku clings to him and has his arms wrapped around Katsuki’s arm or waist. Izuku showers Katsuki with praises way more than he normally does, he tries to hold Katsuki’s hand multiple times, he gives him unpredictable kisses randomly and would literally do anything for Katsuki

Katsuki wanting this to stop he has to kiss Izuku back it doesn’t have to be necessary on the lips it could be a simple forehead kiss or a kiss on the cheek basically any type of kiss but it’s extremely hard for Katsuki to do it because he has feelings for Izuku and now he has no idea what to do eventually Katsuki puts on his big boy pants and kisses Izuku and they get together

(This one has no time limit ex. 24hrs.)

Izuku and Katsuki bump into each other in the old playground they use to play when they were kids and sit on the swings and just remember the good old days before things changed and they end up telling each other their feelings and end up getting together

Izuku and Katsuki go on an amusement park date and have fun

(this on is pretty easy and on the point)

Katsuki and Deku end up playing the Pocky game

(Again this one is pretty easy and to the point)

It’s Halloween night and class A throws a party and Katsuki or Izuku end up wearing a very ‘intriguing’ costume and one thing leads to another and they never make it to the party

*

Yeah that’s pretty much it I have way to many ideas for fics, but if any of you would like to use any of these then you can I won’t mind at all and it doesn’t necessarily have to be bkdk it can be any of your favorite ships, have fun writing your fic(s) if you end up using one of these 😊

#izuku midoriya #bakugo katuski #bakudeku #bkdk #deku #kacchan #decchan #dkbk #katsuki bakugo x izuku midoriya #fanfic ideas

[offbrand-deltatraveler]

Tbh is it just me or has Supercute Adventures gotten a lot weirder in Season 6

Not because of the unholy amount of Three Parters, but because there’s this weird emphasis placed on friendship that honestly feels really forced

Season 1-4 were great, with every episode showcasing some random thing hapoening around town that there was always something to learn from either lore-wise or life lesson-wise, and Season 5, while it had it’s weird moments, was ultimately not bad either. But then Season 6 comes along and, while you should expect kids cartoons to be sunshine and rainbows, I can guarantee you there is not a single kids cartoon out there worth watching that is that level of sunshine and rainbows. Not even Peppa Pig goes anywhere near that shit

Like surely I can’t be the only one who notices how monotone and ultimately stale every mention of friendship and togetherness has gotten recently

Because at least in Seasons 1-5, when it was mentioned, there was some kind of purpose that that mention served, and the way it was worded was always intertwined with that purpose. But in Season 6 they just say it for the sake of reminding you that “ALL THE CHARACTERS ARE BESTIES BY THE WAY, IN CASE YOU DIDN’T ALREADY KNOW THAT”

Like. The one Season 6 episode so far that doesn’t do this in some capacity is My Melody’s Bad Day, and that’s because the point of that episode was to show that it’s okay to not be okay all the time because real friends will be willing to be there for you in times of struggle. Admittedly My Mel didn’t go through any real visible struggle as her Bad Mood had no real cause, but the point still got across all the same

Meanwhile compare that to Hello Kitty & The Beanstalk, where while it is technically exempt from this with everyone climbing the beanstalk with Hello Kitty because she’s literally going to die without them for all they know, “Teamwork makes the dreamwork” wasn’t the plot of the episode. Not to mention the “Every adventure is better with friends!!” line is the exact same shit so I say fuck it

Like you get what I’m saying here right

Gone are the days of episodes like Happy Family that shows that not all family has to be blood-related, or Mission Invisible or Kuromi’s Sleepover that shows that real friends won’t judge you for enjoying things that make you happy as long as it’s not like. Some real sick shit, or All Thumbs which teaches you to be the self you want to be rather than the “self” other people want you to be, or Keroppi Faces The Music which was actually real fucking shit ngl or Imperfection that shows that sometimes people make mistakes and we shouldn’t always hold that against them, or My Melody’s Friendship Ultra Blast or Cinnamoroll Sweetness that’s all about setting boundaries and letting people know when they’re doing something that makes you uncomfortable, Happy Campers teaching you that campfire story monsters aren’t real and can’t hurt you, Cinnamoroll’s Dance Craze telling you to be careful what you post online, Flowers For Chococat showing that too much of something is good for nothing, Special Delivery showing how easy it is to get distracted and foresake your responsibilities…

And even episodes that weren’t necessarily about anything were good. Chococat vs Gravity for the most part was literally just Chococat & Badtz being bros, and every Fishy episode is just about Fishy being the mischievous knockoff genie (Affectionate) that she is, Badtz-Maru’s Manga Mania was just an excuse to have Badtz be a Manga Artist because Why The Hell Not, Lost & Found teaches no real lesson ultimately and only shows Badtz, Keroppi, and Pompom being lost in the woods, The Wiltening is just a VR Game, Kuromi’s Escape Room is just an escape room, Hello Kitty’s Gameshow Showdown…

Every Holiday Special episode

But the difference there is that at least they admit that they have no real plot or moral of the story. They instead just show us more about the town they take place in or simply wanna show X Characters doing Y Thing

Meanwhile Hello Kitty And The Beanstalk says “Every adventure is better with friends” which I doubt anyone but me actually remembered sure, but the actual events of the episode are about… What, exactly? Not forgetting housewarming party invitations?? Not leaving friends to die when going to face a giant??? Not to waste an entire episode on a humorously pointless preparation montage which’s punchline wasn’t even funny????

And what’s Hello Kitty In “Back To My Friends” about? “Remember Kids: Don’t build time machines. Knowing your dumb ass you’ll accidentally destroy your entire bloodline”? I know it has the line at the end about “Leaving the past behind and focusing on building our future as best friends”, but the events prior to it don’t convey that point at all. Not to mention that Sweet Happy News article is an Unfired Checkov’s Gun that will likely never fire

I never really know how to end posts like these but yeah. Those are my personal gripes with Season 6 of Supercute Adventures

Do I think this means the show is coming to be the second Aggretsuko in terms of inconsistency, bad endings, and overall storytelling shittiness? Honestly no. I have faith that it may go back to it’s original roots sooner or later. I just. Really don’t like the needlessly sappy “Oh by the way did you know the characters are like. Friends??? Yeah that’s a thing we’re gonna be shoving in your face constantly for no apparent reason” bullshit

#hello kitty and friends: supercute adventures #sanrio