the thing that will always stick to me from the devil judge is how polar opposites yohan and gaon are and yet — they stand for the same things. it's just a load of misunderstandings, miscommunication, and yohan's past trauma.
and yet, in those moments when yohan has let his guard down enough for gaon to peek past the angry boy persona he has, the man is absolutely whipped.
he watches yohan with so much fondness in his eyes, eyes crinkled up, a full blown smile on his face as he just watches yohan?? truly?? be?? himself??
in my mind, gaon ditches the rotten system and goes with gaon to live in switzerland and they have their happily ever after with elijah, komi.
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Don’t forget to chest the TWs in the chapter notes if you’re sensitive to certain themes!
Chapters: 4/?
Fandom: KinnPorsche: The Series (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun
Characters: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham, Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun, Gun Theerapanyakun, Chan (KinnPorsche: The Series), Porsche Pachara Kittisawat, Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakun, Original Characters
Chapter summary:
Vegas takes Pete to Dromund Kaas and tries to pry information out of him. Vegas and Pete see flashes of a concerning vision.
And check out this moodboard done by @.RLcosplay on twitter!
Work summary:
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…
In different corners of the Galaxy, there are two boys whose fates are linked. One, born in the heart of the Empire, has spent his entire life training under his father to be the strongest Sith, but always found himself coming up short. Vegas Theerapanyakul cultivated his anger into hatred, and became a talented Sith Lord, and one of the youngest to ever take the title.
The other, who was abandoned at a Jedi Temple by his parents when he was just a child, impressed his teachers from a young age with his connection to the Force. He quickly rose through the ranks and now stands, a full fledged Jedi Sentinel, one of the youngest to be made a Jedi in the history of the Order. Focusing on his connection to the Force, studying ancient lore, and seeking justice, Pete Saengtham has made it his mission to recover as many Jedi and Sith Holocrons as possible to expand the Jedi Temple Library.
Both young men have been plagued with visions of someone else from a young age, but hid that odd connection from their teachers, not knowing what it meant. But now, both find themselves on the same planet… in pursuit of different goals, but with paths that are destined to cross…
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*chanting softly* Almost kisses, almost kisses, almost kisses
"Thank you for rescuing me,” he said. He wasn’t sure he should have, but it was the truth.
The words seemed to startle Cenwyn. In the firelight, he coloured prettily. He shifted a little, arm pressing against Aneiric’s momentarily before moving away again.
“You seemed … lost,” he offered, eyes far away. “I know that feeling.” Then, he startled. “But I don’t mean to imply … That is, I didn’t want to offend you – You are certainly more versed at courtly manners than I am, and I didn’t –”
Aneiric raised his hand to stop the rambling apologies. Always, with Cenwyn, it felt like he was calming a startled horse. “Hush,” he said, “You’re entirely correct. This is all growing very tiresome, I’m afraid.”
Cenwyn swallowed, nodded. When no words came, Aneiric turned his eyes back to the sky.
“I love the stars,” he murmured. “They capture the imagination, don’t they? Heroes and dragons, knights and maidens, castles and beasts. It’s all so fascinating. So many stories.”
Cenwyn looked up. “I haven’t paid much attention,” he answered, almost apologetic. “Field work is hard work. Most nights, I was asleep before the stars were visible.”
Aneiric didn’t know what his smile said in response. He knew the words tugged at some unease deep in his stomach. Whatever the reasons for Cenwyn’s life, he clearly hadn’t enjoyed much leisure in it. The stories he’d told Aneiric were engaging if mundane. What would they turn into, if Cenwyn were to marry him?
Next to him, Cenwyn fidgeted. Aneiric counted the breaths it took before he turned towards him, quietly cleared his throat as if afraid to break the stillness of the night. His hand carefully moved closer to Aneiric’s on the stone.
“Aneiric,” he said tentatively.
Aneiric turned, allowing their eyes to meet. Cenwyn looked caught somewhere between fear and determination. Their fingertips met.
“I am sorry for leaving last night,” he said. There was a tremor in his voice like it cost him to keep it steady.
Aneiric watched him. “Why?” he asked finally.
Cenwyn bit his lip. “I thought I wasn’t wanted.” There words were so low, Aneiric had to lean forward to hear them. A confession for no one but them. “But then I thought, perhaps, by leaving I …”
“Not wanted?”
Dumbly, Cenwyn shook his head. He swallowed again, and seemed to gather any resolve left in him. When he leaned forward, Aneiric froze.
The door creaked open before their lips could brush. Cenwyn startled back, and Aneiric closed his eyes, relief and embarrassment warring in him. When he looked again, Bran was standing in the doorway. His hands were clenched around the hilt of his sword, less like he wanted to draw it than like he needed something to hold onto.
“You know better than to steal away from your guard,” he said.
The laughter that bubbled in Aneiric’s throat felt a little wild. He raised himself from his slouch against the battlement, took a step forward, and remembered again how much he’d drunk that night.
“You were the one who disappeared,” he accused Bran.
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