#((to say nothing of her determination to become a star by any means necessary))

[theheadlessgroom]

"O-Oh, yeah?" Callahan asked with a small smile amidst his trouble thoughts, amused by the pair's disappointment, which was clear on their face when their mother mentioned it, with Erika pouting, "Phoebus is boring." She was also of the opinion that the Beast wasn't nearly as cool as a human, so clearly, her parents affection for monster-human romances was rubbing off on her.

"Why can't she be with Quasi?" Lon asked, arms folded as Colin shrugged with a wry smile of his own, "I, uh...I don't know, lad. Guess you'd have to take it up with the writer."

"Well...Esmeralda may not have ended up being romantically involved with Quasimodo," Josephine ventured to suggest, saying, "But that doesn't mean he lost out on having her in his life. They may not be a couple, but clearly, she still treasures him as a friend, and I think that's very important too."

Though Erika couldn't completely argue with that logic, she still felt firm in her belief that the pair should've been together in the end, something that made Randall chuckle-he was sure that belief would only further be solidified once she saw the 1923 film. Phoebus, while not the cad he was in the novel, still wasn't as heroic (or as humorous) as his animated counterpart, a very boring, safe romantic interest compared to Quasimodo, in Randall's opinion, and he was sure his children would agree.

But such lighter topics didn't linger for long: While Josephine took the empty bowl of popcorn back to the kitchen, asking the twins to come and help her clean up (with August tagging along, the Burke parents both having sensed the tension in the room, and felt it'd be best to give the Paces a little space), the Pace brothers, as soon as they were alone, moved to embrace not only their brother and sister-in-law, but their nephew and his wife as well.

"Wil...he told us everything," Colin confirmed shakily, fresh tears sprouting in wide blue eyes, with Wilhelm nodding to Randall and Emily, "I hope you two mind me telling 'em before you could, but we just got to talkin', and...well, it all just came out."

"I understand, Pa," Randall nodded back, his heart breaking for his uncles, who looked so shaken, all their jovialness, all their light-heartedness, having been replaced by a silent horror and heartbreak, now that they knew the awful truth.

Their brother battled discrimination and alcoholism, and died a lonely death in a lake, leaving their widowed sister-in-law to work to provide for her son, even in the face of their neighbors hatred, dying too young from a terrible illness. Their nephew was overlooked and underpaid, and was beheaded for the crime of loving a woman, who was strangled by a wicked man who loved nothing more than her money, and wouldn't stand for that money slipping through his fingers.

"I just...I'm so sorry," Callahan whimpered, saying, "I-I just wish...I just wish we'd known, if only we'd known, if we could've been there, maybe..."

"Cal..." Wilhelm began, placing his hands on his brothers' shoulders: The last thing he wanted was for them to feel guilty, not knowing what was happening to him in the States, but it was too late, both Colin and Callahan had an unshakable, overwhelming sense of guilt, a string of what-ifs filling their minds.

@beatingheart-bride

"It's an old Pratt family recipe," Josephine explained, saying, "My family used to make it for farmer's markets when I was younger, we used to sell it by the bagful; it was always very popular, so we oftentimes sold out very quickly. It's been a long time since I made it, so it felt good to get back in the kitchen and make a batch-especially with two great little helpers."

"We helped!" Lon declared proudly through a mouthful of popcorn, and even Erika smiled a little and nodded-it had actually been really fun, helping Grandma Josephine out. It was a lot like being in the kitchen with Grandma June, and that helped Erika feel a little more at ease about pitching in.

And watching her favorite movie also helped her feel a little more comfortable being around these new family members, admittedly, able to forget about her anxieties in favor of colorful animation and wonderful music, with the hot, sweet kettle corn being an additional bonus. Laying on her stomach watching the movie, Erika felt more content than she had the day before, and smiled as she relaxed. Maybe this visit wouldn't be so bad after all!

Meanwhile, Lon, sitting up beside his sister, was still trying to figure out what this "burlesque" was that his family kept talking about-it involved dancing, performing, but the specifics he couldn't quite figure out. When Esmeralda began her dance at the Feast of Fools, Lon turned back to ask his great-grandmother curiously, "Is that burlesque?"

"Ah, not quite," Josephine chuckled amusedly, though she could see some similarities there, between herself and La Esmeralda: Performing flirtatious, provocative dances for an appreciative audience (with some disapproving figures in the crowd as well), being looked down on because of it, but still remaining kind despite all that? Yes, that all sounded rather familiar to her...

[hanoella]

Deserving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x healer!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: When someone bad mouths Bucky in your presence, you set things straight.

Warnings: Angst, but with happy ending, and one vaguely 18+ insult? I'm new.

Speaking of- @wkemeup has inspired me to post my writing for the first time! For their 9k writing challenge, I used this prompt:

"Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]"

Enjoy!

..........

Bucky was used to the whispers he got from people the street when he passed by them.

“Is that-?”

“Don’t make eye contact, he’s dangerous.”

“They just let him walk around like he hasn’t killed a bunch of people?”

His enhanced hearing picked up more than he wished it did. He liked to believe it didn’t bother him but deep down it did. It was just one more reason to stay secluded. Isolated. Alone. And he had been successfully doing that.

Until you came along.

Having been the test subject of a super serum version that focused on health and regeneration, you used your healing powers to help the Avengers get back to world-saving shape. Bucky hadn’t been keen on anyone touching him, much less someone he didn’t know. Despite his best efforts, he had caved in when you noticed he was having a bad day with his shoulder and offered to help. Since then, your companionship has been like a guilty pleasure.

You had this way of making him feel like he was the most important person in the world to you. Regardless of what he thought was evident, you only seemed to notice the good in him, even when he protested.

“There’s nothing I can do to right the wrongs that I’ve committed. Redemption isn’t possible. I don’t deserve-”

“Stop.” You said, cutting him off. “You are amazing. You have been through everything that you’ve been through and you still give back to the world. You fight for a world that made you this way, a world that gives you nothing back and yet you fight. It’s the world that doesn’t deserve you.”

Bucky swallowed hard. Looking at you in your eyes, he saw no dishonesty. Only pure admiration.

After that, there was no hope of him being alone. You cracked open his shell slowly but surely and now Bucky couldn’t imagine life without you.

Which led him to his current predicament.

“Come on, please? It’ll be so good and only a few blocks away. I know tapioca sounds gross, but you’ll love it!”

Bucky didn’t know what bubble tea was but apparently it was worth begging him for the past 20 minutes while you worked on his shoulder. Your hands emitted a warm white light as you gently massaged his shoulder. The direct contact wasn’t necessary but Bucky hadn’t complained when you started doing it and it’s become routine every since.

“I don’t know. I know I’m old but I don’t have to resort to tapioca yet.”

Bucky let a moment pass before his lip twitched up into a smile. You feigned annoyance as you cut off the healing and placed your hands on his shoulders.

“How about you go with me and I won’t bill the heck out of you for my magical five-star massages.” You say as you squeeze his shoulders.

“Okay okay, fine.”

Bucky put his hands up in defeat as he got up from the couch he was sitting on and turned to face you.

You swallowed as you let your eyes drift across his chest before you grabbed his shirt from off the back of the couch and tossed it to him.

“Alright! I’m so excited!”

Bucky listened to you chatter on about the different flavors he could try while he put on his shirt. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe he actually had a friend besides Steve. Sure, it helped that you had been Steve’s friend first. But there was something about you having grown closer to him that made him feel special. Never did Bucky think there would be a time that he’d be jealous over a girl that Steve was friends with rather than the other way around. Times were certainly different.

“You coming?”

Bucky broke away from his thoughts and made his way towards the doorway that you were standing in.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

---

Yeah, he knew this was a bad idea.

As soon as you two had left Stark Tower, the whispers started. While the café was only two blocks away, you noticed something was off a block into the trip.

“You alright?” You asked as you tried to decipher his facial expression.

“Yeah. Fine.”

You looked at him skeptically and then shifted your eyes to follow his, glancing around you. You slowly nodded in understanding as you looked at the people around you who were trying not to draw attention to themselves.

“Okay. We can talk about it later.”

Bucky was thankful that most people talked quietly enough so that you couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Keyword: Most.

You two arrived at the café, where it was slightly crowded. It was a warm afternoon, the perfect time to get a cool drink. Before heading inside, you gently placed your hand on his arm for a moment to reassure him.

“If you want, we could look at the menu out here and then I’ll go inside to order it.”

Bucky shifted his weight slightly from one side to the other as he contemplated it.

“Nah. We can go in together.”

“Okay.” you said, gently smiling to hopefully reassure him.

You both enter the building and make your way to stand in line. Bucky looked around at the seating areas. It reminded him of a Starbucks but with a more pastel color scheme. You looked at him and he raised an eyebrow in response. You smiled, happy that he was with you. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled back.

That’s when you hear it.

“Is that that Hydra goon? Hey, go back to Siberia you brainwashed Hydra dog!”

You spun around violently the same time Bucky did with an incredulous look on your face, making eye contact with the college aged boy further back in line who was currently sniggering with his friends.

You stalked over to them before speaking in a low even tone.

“Sergeant Barnes has done more for the world than you could ever dream of doing. Apologize.”

You had let the venom creep into your voice, shouting the last word and silencing the rest of the line. Bucky walked up to you and put a hand on your shoulder, trying to turn your attention to him.

“C’mon. It’s not worth it.”

You let out a slow harsh exhale from your nose but didn’t move. The man only sneered.

“Why don’t you scurry along. I don’t care if you’re where he sticks his-”

The next thing Bucky registered was a nasty sounding crack as your fist connected with the jerk’s cheekbone. A round of gasps came from the surrounding crowd as he fell on the floor, completely dazed. You let out a pained grunt as you bent over, holding your hand while trying to cover the white light that started coming over your hand where the skin had bust open and something had definitely cracked.

“Okay, time to go.” Bucky said as he made an executive decision to get you two the heck out of there before anybody could react further. He put his hand on your back and quickly guided you out of the store, walking until you were out of the vicinity and almost back to the tower. You could tell that Bucky was not happy with you since he hadn’t said anything the whole way back. You entered the building and then stood silently in the elevator as it made its way up, refusing to meet his eye.

The elevator dinged as it opened up on the team’s dorm floor. You both walked quickly trying to avoid other people unsuccessfully as Sam stepped out into the hallway from the gym.

“Hey you two, what’re you… What happened to you?” He asked with a furrowed brow, nodding his head towards your hand as you walked past. Bucky and you answered at the same time.

“Nothing-”

“None of your business Sam-”

You gave Bucky a look and started chastising him.

“Hey, don’t be mean to him just because-”

“Keep. Walking.” He said through clenched teeth.

You rolled you eyes and shrugged apologetically at Sam as Bucky punched in the code to your apartment and swung the door open. He nudged you inside and then followed, shutting the door forcefully behind him.

Sam looked down the hall for a moment longer before shrugging it off. Natasha popped her head out into the hallway from the gym.

“What’s all the commotion?”

“Not sure. I think Mr. Tall, Dark and Metal left a few brain cells behind in the pod the last time he was frozen.”

Natasha snorted and then turned back into the gym.

---

Bucky closed the door behind him and then swung his arms out in confusion, giving you the same look of disbelief that he gives Yori when he starts a fight with his neighbors. You gave him the same look back, as if he was crazy for questioning your actions.

“What was that?” He finally asked.

“That guy was crazy! How could I not say something to him?”

“You didn’t have to hit him and hurt yourself! People say stuff like that all the time, you just have to ignore it and move on with your day.”

You stayed silent for a moment, averting your gaze and holding your injured hand that was gently glowing. Bucky gently let out his breath. He closed the distance between you and put his hand under yours to help you support it. His other hand grasped your forearm, gently moving over your smooth skin. He glanced down and watched as the inflammation went away and a bone shifted back into place under your skin.

“Please,” He whispered, his hold on you tightening ever so slightly. “It’s not worth all the trouble. It’s not worth you getting hurt.”

“No.”

Bucky snapped his head back up to see you calm and determined. Speaking again, you look into his eyes.

“It is worth it.”

He blinked twice, not having expected that answer.

“Why?”

“Because if I had let him say what he was going to say. Then to me, it would be validating anyone who has ever said anything like that about you. I can’t let you believe that any of that is true.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“But you do.” You cried out, slipping your newly healed hand out of his grasp and stepping away.

“I can see it in your actions, Bucky. I see it when you deny yourself anything that would make you happy. I see it when you try to hide yourself from the world. I see it when you look at me.” You spoke, voice wavering with the last sentence, averting your gaze again. Bucky stood silent as you continued.

“I see a deep sadness in your eyes. I can feel it in your soul when I heal your shoulder. Or when you touch my hand to see if I’ve fallen asleep. I can feel it emanating off of you. But I know for a fact that you deserve to be happy. You deserve to rest and to be happy. How many times have you fought a fight that wasn’t yours because it was the right thing to do? And don’t say it was to redeem yourself because I know it’s more than that. You are a good man, James. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. But if you need to prove it to yourself than just take a look at me.”

You gently hold his face and guide it so that he’s looking at you. He’s surprised to find your eyes full of tears, threatening to spill over.

“When you look into my eyes, there is nothing but love and admiration for you. When you touch me, I feel the warmth you leave on my skin. When you hear me speak, you should be able to tell from what I say that I genuinely think you deserve the world. When you are hurting, the only thing I feel is your anguish. It kills me, to see you punish yourself so undeservedly.”

You were whispering now, looking up at him. Bucky’s eyes were watering as well, his jaw clenched in an attempt to hold back his emotions. With your hands still gently caressing his cheeks he slowly lowered his head so that his forehead was resting on yours, swallowing hard.

Bucky lifted his head slightly so that he could look at you and he saw nothing but love. Your eyelashes were wet and shimmering from tears you shed for him. Your cheeks were flushed from the overwhelming feeling that you had for him. He looked into the depths of your eyes and saw only his future with you. Finally, his gaze settles on your lips, soft and supple.

“Please,” you begged. “Please do not ask me to stand idly by as the world tears you apart. You are worth more to me than anything else in it.”

Slowly, his hands touch your waist and slide back until he’s holding you against him. Closing the gap between you, you kiss.

Nothing more in this world could assure him of your love. For once, he believes it.

[jangofctts]

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?  

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish​ FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA 

It's curious. 

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is. 

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.  

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.        

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos. 

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.     

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought  it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.     

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.     

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

 And yes, you tried to slip by for this one. 

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.    

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye. 

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?" 

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but— 

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut. 

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit." 

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?" 

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information. 

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.” 

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.” 

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.” 

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting. 

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.” 

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height. 

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces. 

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed." 

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder. 

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well. 

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.  

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.  

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me." 

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts. 

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this? 

This is too good. 

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.  

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions." 

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…  

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.  

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that." 

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.  

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride. 

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest. 

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.   

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you." 

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.” 

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left. 

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.  

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet. 

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.  

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss. 

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this. 

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.   

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything. 

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.     

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin. 

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.      

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water. 

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this? 

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.   

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.  

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—” 

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name. 

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it. 

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.” 

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones. 

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate. 

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part. 

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.   

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” 

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.” 

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away. 

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit. 

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly— 

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands. 

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here. 

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.” 

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him. 

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.” 

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages. 

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin. 

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you. 

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.   

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever. 

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

[themuseandantarctica]

* 𝒒𝒖𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒑𝒕. 12

change however necessary.

“Most of her strength seemed to go into the raising and lowering of her eyelashes.  No wonder.  They were at least an inch long.”

“One’s eyes are what one is; one’s mouth what one becomes.”

“The serial number of the human specimen is the face, that accidental and unrepeatable combination of features.  It reflects neither character nor soul nor what we call the self.”

“The human face is really like one of those Oriental gods: a whole group of faces juxtaposed on different planes.  It is impossible to see them all simultaneously.”

“A man’s face is his autobiography.  A woman’s face is her work of fiction.”

“Our notion of symmetry is derived from the human face.  Hence we demand symmetry horizontally and in breadth, not vertically nor in depth.”

“Every European visitor to the United States is struck by the comparative rarity of what he would call a face, by the frequency of men and women who look like elderly babies.”

“My face looks like a wedding cake left out in the rain.”

“I have a face that is a cross between two pounds of halibut and an explosion in an old clothes closet.”

“I have a face like the behind of an elephant.”

“No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be true.”

“A man determines upon the task of portraying the world.  As the years pass he peoples a space with pictures of provinces, kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fishes, dwellings, instruments, stars, horse, and people.”

“Shortly before he dies he discovers that the patient labyrinth of lines traces the image of his own face.”

“For God’s sake!  What is that?”

“The truth is more important than the facts.”

“In the spiderweb of facts, many a truth is strangled.”

“Facts are the enemy of truth.”

“Do not become a mere recorder of facts, but try to penetrate the mystery of their origin.”

“Facts are the ventriloquists’ dummies.  Sitting on a wise man’s knee they may be made to utter words of wisdom; elsewhere, they say nothing, or talk nonsense.”

“I am no poet, but if you think for yourselves as I proceed, the facts will form a poem in your minds.”

“Anyone who is practically acquainted with scientific work is aware that those who refuse to go beyond fact rarely get as far as fact.”

“There’s nothing as deceptive as an obvious fact.”

“There are no facts, only interpretations.”

“Facts are what pedantic dull people have instead of opinions.  Opinions are always interesting.  Facts are only the scaffolding, the trellis up which bright opinions grow.”

“Everything I touch seems destined to turn into something mean and farcical.”

“When I was a young man I observed that nine out of ten things I did were failures.  I didn’t want to be a failure, so I did ten times more work.”

“Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.”

“I don’t know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody.”

“If at first you don’t succeed, failure may be your style.”

“Good people are good because they have come to wisdom through failure.  We get very little wisdom from success, you know.”

“Failure is the key to success.  Each mistake teaches us something.”

“Dealing with failure is easy: Work hard to improve.  Success is also easy to handle: You’ve solved the wrong problem.  Work hard to improve.”

“Every failure to cope with a life situation must be laid, in the end, to a restriction of consciousness.  Wars and temper tantrums are the makeshifts of ignorance; regrets are illuminations come too late.”

“My faith is the grand drama of my life.  I’m a believer, so I sing words of God to those who have no faith.  I give bird songs to those who dwell in cities and have never heard them, make rhythms for those who know only military marches or jazz, and paint colors for those who see none.”

“To me faith means not worrying.”

“My faith is that the only soul a man must save is his own.”

“Faith is much better than belief.  Belief is when someone else does the thinking.”

“Faith is under the left nipple.”

“The opposite of faith isn’t doubt, it’s certainty.”

“Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever.”

“Being famous has its benefits, but fame isn’t one of them.”

“Fame is the noise of madmen.”

“Fame is a figment of everyone else’s imagination.”

“It’s like having Alzheimer’s disease.  You don’t know anybody, but they all know you.”

“If I spit, they will take my spit and frame it as great art.”

“Just because you like my stuff, doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”

“A man who is being delivered from the danger of a fierce lion does not object whether this service is performed by an unknown or an illustrious individual.  Why therefore do we seek knowledge from the famous?”

“A celebrity is a person who works hard all his life to become known, then wears dark glasses to avoid being recognized.”

“Everyone wants to be [name].  Even if I want to be [name].”

“Those who are very beautiful, very good, and very powerful scarcely ever learn the truth about anything.  In their presence we involuntarily lie.”

“The easiest kind of relationship for me is with ten thousand people.  The hardest is with one.”

“With fame I become more and more stupid, which, of course, is a very common phenomenon.”

“Glory: to become a literary theme, or a common noun, or an epithet.”

“I’m never going to be famous.  My name will never be writ large on the roster of Those Who Do Things.  I don’t do anything.  Not one single thing.  I used to bite my nails, but I don’t even do that anymore.”

“It’s wonderful to be famous as long as you remain unknown.”

“The family you come from isn’t as important as the family you’re going to have.”

“Personal hatred and family affection are not incompatible; they often flourish and grow strong together.”

“There is no such thing as fun for the whole family.”

“If Mr. Vincent Price were to be costarred with Miss Bette Davis in a story by Mr. Edgar Allan Poe directed by Mr. Roger Corman, it would not fully express the pent-up violence and depravity of a single day in the life of the average family.”

“Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city.”

“Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months.”

“Oh, never mind the fashion.  When one has a style of one’s own, it is always twenty times better.”

“I have heard with admiring submission the experience of the lady who declared that the sense of being well-dressed gives a feeling of inward tranquility which religion is powerless to bestow.”

“Fashion is what goes out of fashion.”

“Beware of any enterprise that requires new clothes.”

“When Spring comes around, I merely write my tailor, send him a small sample of dandruff, and tell him to match it exactly.”

“Once you can accept the universe as being something expanding into an infinite nothing which is something, wearing stripes with plaid is easy.”

“Every generation laughs at the old fashions, but follows religiously the new.”

“Dressing with style is akin to issuing a manifesto; dressing fashionably is like signing a petition.”

“It is easy to become a father, but very difficult to be a father.”

“My father had a profound influence on me, he was a lunatic.”

“I did not become a father because I am fond of children.”

“The time not to become a father is eighteen years before a war.”

“Whoever has not got a good father should procure one.”

“It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.”

“You care for nothing but shooting, dogs, and rat-catching and you will be a disgrace to yourself and your family.”

“I have done everything possible to please you.  I am the most famous artist in the world.  I have worked day and night and undergone hardships of every description, but I still do not know what you want of me...”

“There are fathers who do not love their children; there is no grandfather who does not adore his grandchildren.”

“Nothing in life is to be feared.  It is only to be understood.”

“Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed.”

“Anything I’ve ever done that ultimately was worthwhile initially scared me to death.”

“It was high counsel that I once heard given to a young person, ‘Always do what you are afraid to do.’”

“I prefer my people to be loyal out of fear rather than conviction. Convictions can change but fear remains.”

“The first duty of man is that of subduing fear.  We must get rid of fear; we cannot act at all till then.  A man’s acts are slavish, not true by specious; his very thoughts are false, he thinks too as a slave and coward, till he have got fear under his feet.”

“Death is not the biggest fear we have; our biggest fear is taking the risk to be alive—the risk to be alive and express what we really are.”

“Yeah, though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil, for I am the meanest son of a bitch in the valley.”

“If a man harbors any sort of fear, it makes him landlord to a ghost.”

“I’m not afraid of storms, for I’m learning how to sail my ship.”

“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear which is inherent to the human situation.”

“Without fear and illness, I could never have accomplished all I have.”

“You can discover what your enemy fears most by observing the means he uses to frighten you.”

“There are only two forces that unite men—fear and interest.”

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

“The only thing I am afraid of is fear.”

“Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live.”

“Fear cannot be without hope, nor hope without fear.”

[writeswheneverpossible]

Perception, perception.

Perfect. Jeno was perfect. Despite all his imperfections, he was perfect. You didn't know anyone else who felt so right for you as he was. You had met many boys before, but none like him. But, would he even feel the same? You kept asking yourself that question ever since the day you knew you had fallen for him. That was a few months ago. Things changed when a new girl moved into your class. You still remembered that day clearly. To say she was pretty was an understatement. She was beautiful. If you could describe another person as perfect, you'd say it was her.

Your eyes had trailed on the pale girl then as she walked past you to the empty table next to the one by the window at the back of the class. You still remembered the way your breath got caught in your throat. As she sat down gracefully on her seat, Jeno’s face came to view and you could have sworn that he looked like an angel had appeared before him. That was the day you realised how silly it was for you to like him. After all, the two of them looked good together sitting side by side, like jewels crafted by the same hands.

The days went by with you trying your best to act normal around Jeno, no matter how badly you were hurting inside. The new girl had made friends with him and you saw them together around school most of the time, which had been your intention all along, wasn't it?

When your batch was done with the exams, a long holiday awaited all of you. But you spent most of the days alone with a heavy heart. After all, your current life was going to change once the results were out.

One day before the official release, the sadness in you got so overwhelming that you decided to take a walk around your neighbourhood. There was a small playground nearby which you used to play at when you were younger. At one point, it had become your comfort place. Anytime you needed a good place to cry, you would head there first, with a cap and the hood of your favourite oversized jacket to shield your face when necessary.

When you got out of your house, the sun was setting. The dark orange hues made you feel nostalgic. You took in a shaky breath before shaking your head and smiling sadly. You decided to savour how cosy your jacket felt that day and how it was similar to a comforting hug as you began to walk, trying your best to soak in the picture-perfect scenery around you. You took out your phone and clicked the camera icon. How ironic, you thought.

The walk to the playground was a seemingly short one, but one thing was different that day. Lee Jeno was standing in front of you. You looked down immediately. The two of you were a few metres away, but that only made you feel even worse. You felt like disappearing. You couldn't stand having him look at you. Especially not then. Not at that moment. Not when you were certain you saw him entering his house before you even went out. How? Before you could think of a possible explanation, he spoke up. You realised that you hadn't heard his voice in a long time and your heart wrenched inside you. It hurt.

“When are you going to tell me?” his voice was soft, but stern. You knew what he meant immediately. He began to walk towards you, but your eyes remained glued to his shadow, which was growing bigger by the second. “Y/N,” he called. No answer. “Y/N!” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders. Something inside you broke before you raised your eyes to look into his. They were glistening, and you couldn't tell if it was because of their usual spark or his tears.

“There is nothing for me to say, Jeno,” you said, smiling sadly. His grip on you tightened. “What’s wrong with you, Y/N?! Why are you like this?”

You could feel your bottled up frustration burst at his words. “What's wrong with me? Do you really want to know?” You asked him, getting teary yourself. “Yes!” he exclaimed, letting go of your shoulders, watching as you looked down, not missing the few tears that trailed down your cheeks, making his heart ache.

Jeno realised that you had been distant sometime in March. It was odd of you, considering how close you two were. Things only worsened when Irene, the new girl, moved into your class. Sure, Irene was interesting, and she was a great person, but that did not stop Jeno from noticing the way you would refrain from coming in between them, as if you were some outsider the two of them probably did not want to have around. You weren't. He initially shrugged it off when you repeatedly rejected his offer to study as a group with Irene together after school, choosing to believe that it was because you preferred to study alone since he knew how important the final year was to you. It was a determining point after all, as everyone would walk on their own paths afterwards. But that did not mean you should also stop walking to school together. The two of you lived next to each other after all. That was when he knew something was wrong, but you were so unreachable that he could never get the chance to confront you. You had stopped hanging out at his house during the weekends as well. It seemed the more Jeno tried to see you, the more you drifted away. You barely looked at him at school and talked to Jaemin instead whenever possible. Yet, you weren't your usual self even when he wasn't around. He didn't know seeing you act this way would affect him this much. But nothing compared to the pain of finding out you were going to move. To somewhere far, far, far away. And he didn't know, until the night before, when your mom went to have a drink at his place with his mom since they were best friends. That was how the two of you were able to grow up alongside each other. You were his childhood friend, his basketball buddy, his partner for all the imaginary adventures you guys went on as kids. So yes, it hurt to find out through catching the word ‘move’ in his mom’s sentence when he went down to get a drink in the kitchen. It hurt to realise that you were planning to leave without telling him. It really hurt. Yet he had no clue as to why you were acting this way.

You took in a deep breath before looking him straight in the eyes and said, “It’s because I hate you, Lee Jeno.” You looked away when you realised he didn't show any reaction. “I hate you for making me fall for you.

The way his eyes looked like they held the stars of the night sky on New Year's Eve as you two laid down in your backyard after you told him your resolution for the year flashed before your eyes. His eyes...they were understanding and comforting even after you insisted that your wish was silly. Falling for him was never your intention, but you went back to your room that night with butterflies in your stomach.

I hate you for making me feel pathetic for it.

The scene of you staring at Jeno as he slept replayed in your mind as it made you realise that he was beautiful all the time, even if his mouth was open and his face was squished. You, on the other hand, could never compare.

I hate that seeing you with Irene would only make me pity myself more.

Thinking about Irene and Jeno standing next to each other, talking and smiling only made you feel small every time.

I hate you for affecting me this much...for hurting me,” you cried, the sentence trailing off.

Tears streamed down your face. You wiped them away with the sleeves of your jacket. You took in a breath and calmed yourself. “But most of all, I hate myself for liking you,” you continued, looking at him then. “I mean, look at me. I'm nothing compared to someone like Irene. When I first saw the two of you sitting next to each other in class, something inside me broke and I realised it was pointless to even have feelings for you. You're my best friend after all, but you're also the most amazing person I've ever met and known. Who am I to even like you? Nothing is what I am.”

You turned to walk away without even giving Jeno a chance to speak. Yet he didn't stop you. Not even once. When you reached home, you realised that this was all probably for the best. You were going to leave tomorrow anyway. Even if Jeno did stop you, you knew even him couldn't prevent you from flying to the United Kingdom, your soon to be new home. As you were about to enter through the gates, a figure ran past you, coming from Jeno’s house, and you knew straight away who it was. Jaemin. Instinctively, you knew something was going on, but you were too tired to even come up with anything.

Jeno’s entire system broke down the instant you said you liked him. He was too shocked to even react. Irene and Jaemin had been right all along. The two had been trying to convince him you felt the same whenever they could sense he was worried about you or wondering why you had been behaving differently lately. It was wrong of him to doubt them. Deep down, however, he was certain you wouldn't like him. You were way beyond his league after all. You were the strongest yet kindest person he had ever known. He swore he had never seen anyone who smiled through their pains as much as you did. Even during the period of your strange antics, Jeno had never seen you lose your beautiful smile, which looked sincere all the time. The beauty of your entire being was and had always been clear to him for as long as he could remember. If you had only fallen for him recently, Jeno had liked you for years, masking his feelings by joking around whenever he accidentally blurted out things he admired about you. To Jeno, you were someone he could depend on. Someone he knew would believe his words even if the whole world insisted he was lying. Someone caring, patient and understanding. It was as if your heart had never been tainted by this harsh world, even though that wasn't the truth. Any guy would be lucky to have you because he already knew a few who actually thought the same. That was how he truly felt.

Shaking, he took out his phone and tried his best to type a short text before feeling his knees give out and beads of cold sweat form on his forehead. His breathing turned heavy and his vision was slowly darkening. He hoped to see you again when he opened his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up the next day feeling lifeless and numb. You looked into the mirror of your vanity and noticed that your eyes weren't as puffy as you anticipated. You only cried during your talk with Jeno anyway, so it was expected. You brushed your brown hair, looking at yourself with utter distaste. If only you’d realise how beautiful you actually were. From your eyes to your lips, from your ears to your cheeks. You may look nothing like Irene, but to Jeno, you were something else entirely.

When you walked down the stairs with all your things in your luggage, you were surprised to see Jeno’s mom standing beside yours at the end of the stairs. You smiled weakly. You looked behind them in case Jeno would be around. He wasn't.

“Y/N!” Jeno’s mom cried, sounding worried. She rushed forward to clasp your hands once you reached the bottom. “Do you mind looking after Jeno for me? He came home looking so pale last night that he woke up with a fever this morning. I swear that boy can never take good care of his health...” she muttered the last part to herself, before flashing you her signature puppy eyes. “Please?” You were taken aback, uncertain that Jeno would even want to see you and whether you would want to see him too, after what happened. You looked at your mom for help, but she only nodded at you. You slowly nodded at Jeno’s mom as a result.

The walk to Jeno’s room was a difficult one. Your whole body felt heavy with reluctance. You prayed with all your might that he'd still be asleep as you hesitated outside his door for a moment. You twisted the doorknob, revealing a dark room with a figure laying on the bed. The curtains were still close and he was indeed still asleep. You closed the door. You grabbed the wet towel on his forehead and wet it in the warm bucket of water on his nightstand, before carefully placing them on his forehead again. He squirmed when you did, before fluttering his eyes open. Your heart stopped, before it began beating like crazy when he held your wrist. He felt extremely warm and his grip was soft. “Y/N?” he mustered. You hummed, not moving a muscle. You see him smile a little before a tear streamed down the side of his face. And another. He held his other hand to his face as he began to silently cry. You stiffened at the sight. It had been a long while since he cried in front of you since he mostly kept his feelings to himself, so you were uncertain of what to do.

“Please don't leave me, Y/N. You don't know how important you are to me.

When he first found out from your mom that you were hospitalized due to a bad fever, he had stayed by your side the entire time, missing out on school and getting his video games confiscated by his mother. Yet, he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

How beautiful.

Jeno found you the most beautiful when you talked from your heart because that was how he got to know the real you. Ranging from politics to the latest movie you two watched together, anything that came out of your mouth was beautiful. Not just that, but the way your eyes reflected your emotions as you spoke was equally breathtaking. You could be frowning, huffing, sighing, or even running a hand through your hair out of frustration and he wouldn't look away for even a second. In fact, they were all some of his most favourite looks on you. But, your smile? The one that never failed to make his heart race, but also calm him down at the same time? He would do anything to see it. Your laughter? He'd set it as his ringtone if possible. The giggles that escaped your mouth whenever he did something weird? He wished he could keep them in a jar forever.

How precious.

The first time you told him the story about your father, you had broken down crying. You rarely cried, just like him. You preferred keeping your negative emotions to yourself, which gave you the tendency to explode at unprecedented times, Jeno noticed. Nonetheless, the sight of you that day made him cry as well as the need to protect you from all the bad things in this world suddenly became overwhelming. He was unsure if he could do it, but one thing was certain: he wanted to be there for you, always.

Please,” he sobbed, eyes still closed.

You clenched your fists. You wanted to stay, you really did. But your plane ticket had already been bought and you had completed all the procedures necessary for you to study at your chosen university. You couldn't possibly go against your mom's words when this move was her job’s latest requirement.

Jeno let go of your wrist when you remained silent, and that was your cue to leave the room. You were more than surprised when you were met with your mom’s serious expression outside, her stern eyes boring into yours.

“Y/N, tell me the truth. Do you love this boy?” You gulped. You weren't sure if you loved Jeno yet, but having to leave him would surely wreck you in ways you never thought was possible. That much you were certain of. She crossed her arms when you didn't answer. “It appears you do.” She sighed. “If having you move with me would affect the two of you this much, I would have never accepted the request straightaway.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, mom. We'll both grow past it,” you lied. She sighed, placing her hands on your shoulders, and looking into your eyes. “It's not, though? Y/N, listen to me. When someone you love loves you back, you should realise that this kind of thing doesn't happen every day. Heck, people would do anything to have what you two have. Yes, your future is important, but if you can't even chase for who your heart wants at the moment, have you even the heart to chase for your dreams?” You were silent. You didn't know what to think. “Boy, are you stubborn,” your mom chided, straightening herself. She waved a hand as she turned to walk down the stairs. “By the way, I've asked someone else to replace me so the two of us won't be flying to the United Kingdom anytime soon. And I've also enrolled you to Seoul National University, which has been your dream university since you were 15 by the way,” your mom called back. Your eyes widened. How did she know, you thought. But she was your mother after all and that alone was reassuring enough. You couldn't believe what you just heard. All at once, you felt better. You twisted the doorknob behind you once more and promised to stay by Jeno’s side for as long as possible.

[dinner-djarin]

Until the Sun Rises

Part 2: Beautifully Catastrophic

Anakin x Jedi!reader

Summary: The Clone Wars have begun, and although you and Anakin remain best friends, you have sensed your relationship growing distant, both from your time spent apart in battle, and from the inclusion of a certain woman into his life. When you finally get a moment to share alone with him, however, things do not go as you would have wished.

Notes: Part 2 takes place probably a year or so after part 1. Reader is young, probably around 18 or 19. Another Happy Birthday wish to @hellotherebonky

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff/angst. Reader gets very angry, yikes.

Part 1

Only one year later would Anakin be made an official Jedi Knight, just after the start of the Clone Wars. And as much as you hoped for peace in the galaxy, you secretly revelled in the start of the fighting, as it meant you were finally able to leave the Temple on a regular basis. You and your Master fought many battles together, and you felt yourself grow stronger with The Force every day. Master Sente admitted they may have been wrong to keep you guarded all that time, as you proved yourself to be a very cunning and diligent warrior. You learned ten times faster out in the galaxy then you did by studying away in the record halls. Being out there, learning on the battlefield, this was what made you finally shine.

The one downfall, however, was the reality that your assignments kept you away from Anakin.

He and Obi-wan stayed close, even after he proved himself capable and passed his trials, so the two of them often went on missions together… a fate you once dreamed of for yourselves.

But in all honesty, you were thankful for the space from Anakin. Ever since Padme Amidala had been thrust back into his life, you were tormented by how different Anakin had become. He didn’t confide in you as often, and when he did, the sole topic was her. How he couldn’t stand to be away from her. How he dreamt only of her. How only she could tame the fire that seared his soul.

One might think that a war should be the cause of such an uprooting to your life - but the war paled in comparison to the return of a woman.

You could see what drew him to her. Her beauty was only paralleled by her intelligence and kindness. She was stunning - you might even say she was perfect.

Her angelic form could not rival whatever you had to offer him. In fact, you had nothing to offer him, as the Jedi Code stood between any dreams you could dare to possess. At least with her, only his own morals were tempted. He didn’t confide the true nature of his relationship with Padme to you, but in your heart, you knew things had gone too far. It broke you to see him throw away his future for her, but it broke you more that he would never do the same for you.

She was lovely enough to include you in her life too, obviously noting the fact that you were Anakin’s only true friend at the Temple. You spent lunches and dinners and nights out together at the opera. Over the short time you spent together you unconsciously came to like her. More than that, you admired her.

You admired how she continued to fight for the rights of those who had none. How she was always unafraid to speak her mind and stand against what she believed to be wrong. You also noticed just how strong willed she could be in those opinions; ready to take on any voices raised against her own.

And as much as you tried to be happy for the two best people in your life, you couldn’t help the way that they remind you of the neutron star collisions you were taught about as a youngling. Two stars burning hot and bright, caught in each other's gravity, encircling one another over and over in a beautiful rhythm, until time and space can no longer accommodate for their existence. A beauty burning so bright that it can only be catastrophic.

Padme is brilliant and caring, but she is determined and independent. Anakin is willing to fight to the end for what he loves, but he is only satisfied when it is him who makes the sacrifices, and him who makes the choices. He needs to control everything, but she cannot be controlled.

You’ve grown alongside Anakin, and you’ve grown to love Padme. Separate they are unstoppable. They believe they can change the galaxy. But you know neither sees that goal in the same way.

You recount the way Anakin fought so hard against the council, over and over, believing that he knew better, or his approach would suit the situation over theirs. Often, he was proven right. He was talented, but the council only thought of him as reckless and lucky, making him seek to push against them even harder. For nights on end, you would hear him rant on about his distrust in such a system.

“We would be better off to decide for ourselves what we thought was right” he would go on. “How can we put our faith in a group of old, washed up Master’s who have long forgotten what it’s like to put their own lives on the line.” Eventually he would finish with sentiments along the line of: “I think they’re just scared to make the decisions that needed to be made”

But you also knew how faithful Padme was to that same system. She believed in the power of diplomacy and democracy. A freedom made by sitting and talking through their issues. Words right out of the mouth of Anakin; words of distaste for a future he couldn't see himself a part of.

It kept you wondering just how long it might take for fate - for The Force - to intervene. You knew it would have to, in some form or another. It always did. You waited for the day they would implode. And you swore you would be by his side when they did.

You waited. But the day hadn’t come.

Instead, the Clone Wars dragged on. You were eventually Knighted. A relatively small ceremony for the troubled times, but even Anakin made his way to be there. He looked proud as you knelt before the council and agreed to do the will of The Force.

“I can’t believe I finally made it,” you whisper to Anakin as you shuffle out of the council room.

“I never doubted you would, little one.” His voice quiet too but resonating directly into your ear as he hunched over to place his mouth next to your face.

“I did. All the time,” you say as you tilt your face to meet his.

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” Just then you realized you had worked yourselves away from the crowd into the hall where your adjacent rooms were held. “Come on, for old times’ sake.” His head nodding towards his own room, but you understood the final destination he had in mind.

You both carefully maneuvered your bodies over the ledge of his balcony onto the roof of the temple. “This was easier when we were children,” you remarked through laboured breaths.

“Everything was,” he responded, settling into the spot next to you so that your two thighs were barely grazing. The positioning reminded you of a night you spent together not so long ago. Watching the life of Coruscant fill the skies. Now the view had barely changed, save for the fact you were currently watching a setting sun instead of a vast darkness.

You both sat in silence, as you often did, words rarely necessary when you felt each other's presence so clearly already. Tuning into his aura, you felt a turbulence - an unease you had never felt before. What is that? You thought, forgetting how thoroughly lodged you were in his essence. “I’m sorry, Anakin. I didn’t mean to intrude-”

“It’s alright. I have nothing to hide, not from you. Never from you.” He admits as he turns to look into your eyes. You met his gaze instantly, and whatever you had felt in his aura had also taken root in his face. Besides the new scar, there were clear signs of worry and fear - his secrets slowly burdening him from the inside out.

“Please tell me, Anakin. You know you can tell me, whatever it is.” You attempt to reassure him. You know he must have a lot on his mind, and you know there is rarely anyone else he can truly confide in. His relationship with Padme meant he could not completely confide in Obi-wan, but the nature of his role and the severity of his actions during the Clone Wars caused a further rift between him and his wife.

“There’s so much. I don’t even know where to begin,” he starts.

“How about the beginning.” Your voice is almost teasing, until you see the bleakness in his weathered face. The horrors of war depleting the once joyful and youthful peace that filled him. Now he looked harsh and serious. He had told you of the things he had done, even before the Clone Wars began, and you could piece together how easily the added burdens had manifested in his soul.

“The council gave me a Padawan.” He spoke softly as he stared at the horizon.

“Already? They must have great faith in you.”

“I think the opposite. They wish to tame me, or to see me fail.” You could sense the hint of anger breaking through his otherwise stoic appearance.

“Anakin, I know you don’t trust them but-”

“But what? When have they ever trusted me?!” His quiet demeanor abruptly dissolving. “Why should I think they’re doing this out of my best interest?”

“How has it been?” You attempt to diffuse him. “What are they like?”

Anakin takes a moment to regain his peace. “She’s like me, Ahsoka.”

“Then she’ll be trouble.” You say with a jab to his ribs.

“Hey.” He nudges you back, and you almost slip from your spot to the balcony below. “Oh Maker, sorry.” He begins again, “I just fear she’s too much like me. She deserves a Master who is knowledgeable of The Force, who can help her find strength and stability. She is wild, and takes risks-”

“And is that bad? She sounds exactly like you. Maybe she needs someone to show her that trusting herself is as important as trusting The Force.”

“I don’t know if I can be that for her. I don’t even know if I trust myself anymore.” his voice reaching a quiet once again. So low, you understand that there is more to what he has shared.

“What’s really going on, Anakin?” You sense his trouble, and you know he has not fully divulged the root of his strife. In a moment of weakness, you let your emotions surface and ask, “Is it Padme?”

“What!? Why would it be Padme? Why would you ask that?” But his voice is too defensive for you to leave the subject alone.

“I just mean keeping the secret. Keeping her a secret. It must be weighing on you. And on top of everything-”

“On top of what?” He asks sternly. But his question stirs something in you, and pokes at all the thoughts you had bottled up over the months of observing the two of them.

“I mean you two already fight enough as it is. You get jealous and she gets angry. You just never seem to be on the same page.”

“You don’t approve of Padme?” He questions harshly.

“Of course I approve of Padme, as if I even need to. I mean she’s perfect. She’s almost too damn good for you-”

“What so I don’t deserve her? You think she should be with someone else?” You saw the aforementioned jealousy rising back up in him, further proving your point.

“I think you’re throwing away your life for a relationship you aren’t even happy in!”

“How could you know If I’m happy?”

“Because I know you, Anakin! I’ve known you for most of your life. I’ve seen you happy, and you aren’t happy with her.”

“It’s not that simple-”

“How is it not? You fight all the time; you don’t agree on anything. Is it supposed to be this hard? Why are you even still with her if she makes your life so difficult?”

“Because she’s my wife!” He admits loudly, a contrast to the deafening silence that follows.

You stare at him for what feels like hours. Your tongue runs dry from the stale air that passes through your agape mouth. Several minutes pass before you realize you hadn’t taken a proper breath.

“What are you talking about, Anakin.” These are the only words you can muster, and they come out painfully against the scratch of your dry throat.

“Just after the assignment where I guarded Padme,” he begins, “I lost my arm, and the Clone Wars began, and there was so much going on. I never realized how easily it could all be taken away. I almost died fighting Dooku.”

“So you decided to get married?” Your mind running too fast, too cluttered with thoughts to string together a calm response. “You lived, Anakin. You’re alive. So you decided to throw it all away because you almost died. Because you realized you could have died. We are Jedi. We could die any day. That’s the freaking point! How could you do something so foolish?!” You scream your words at him like blaster bolts, hoping for the first time ever that you could hurt him, like he had hurt you all these years.

“It was not foolish, I loved her then, and I love her now.” He admits to you angrily.

“And I loved you. I've loved you since the day you came here. And you never gave me a second glance. You never even tried to love me back. I've been here for you the whole time. Through everything. And still, you can't seem to care for me at all. I don't even know why I should care. I should have left you alone years ago. What have I ever gotten out of this? Pain. Hurt. Anger. You’ve pushed me to my breaking point time and time again. You have been more challenging than anything I faced in the trials. But I tried. I tried to be here for you, and hear every problem, every complaint. But you were never here for me. Not once. I’m done.” you say as you slide off the roof. “I cannot believe that all this time you’ve been married to her. And you never once thought to tell me. I am your best friend. At least I thought I was. Maker, Anakin, no wonder everything implodes around you.”

As you retreated, you felt the pain resonate from his aura. Your words tore at his soul and left him to bleed out. But you had enough. You were destroyed, and you needed him to know how deeply he had wounded you first. So, you abandoned him on that roof. You walked away from the one person who you truly loved. With every step you felt the strings of your attachment snap, you felt his presence leaving you in a way it never had before.

But he let you go. Not because he wanted to. But because you were right. He hadn’t been there for you. All those years you had been his crutch. You had listened to every childish rant. You had talked through every problem with him. But what had he done for you? He used you, and he knew it. What good would it do to beg you to stay? He could only be so selfish.

But you were also wrong, because he did love you. He should have shown it better. He should have told you long ago. But his world had become a destructive mess, and he decided he deserved all the pain and torment it had brought. Anakin wasn’t even sure how he loved you. It surely wasn’t the same way he felt about Padme. No, that love was raw. It was fire, and passion. It burned him alive. He loved you softly, like a warm embrace. You brought comfort and joy, even when the world was crumbling around him. Maybe he knew he didn’t deserve such happiness. Maybe that's why he let you walk away.

Part 3

[janetbrown711]

“Why are you shaking?” Yakko >:)

Yakko’s leg bounced up and down so quickly, it appeared to simply be vibrating. In truth, Yakko had to be forced to sit down, his pacing was driving the others in the hospital waiting room insane. 

Dot had begun her surgery about an hour ago, and they should’ve heard something by now... at least Yakko thought. In truth, he hadn’t asked how long it was supposed to take, and even if he had he didn’t have a watch for which to keep track. 

Either way, Yakko was anxious to hear if Dot was okay. A million things could happen during surgery, a million things his mind loved to jump around and explore while he waited. He tried his best to listen to the advice of his younger brother and Plotz (a sentence he never thought he’d ever form) and remind himself that this was necessary and Dot needed the surgery and that everything is going to be okay, but Yakko was Yakko and his anxiety continued.

His brother was right for calling him a ‘worry-wart’, but ‘worry-warting’ had kept them alive so far so he wasn’t exactly going to stop now.

After a while of that, however, Yakko just put his elbows on his legs to stop the shaking and just hoped for the best. All the pacing and shaking was tiring. Quickly after that though, none other than Doctor Scratchnsniff himself entered the waiting room, and Yakko and Wakko hugged each other nervously.

“Ze operation vas a complete success!” The doctor smiled and Yakko and Wakko practically jumped with joy as a wave of relief washed over them.

Finally, it was over.

“However... there is one thing we’d like to talk to you about, Yakko,” Hello Nurse said, appearing next to Scratchnsniff.

Well... at least, Dot’s sickness was over.  They still had a lot more loose ends to tie everywhere else. 

“But I wanna see Dot,” Wakko frowned and pulled on his brother’s arm. 

“You’ll get to later, she’s just in recovery for now. Surgery is quite the tiring process,” the nurse explained. Wakko huffed and pulled down his hat. 

“I’m gonna be boredddddddd,” Wakko groaned. 

“I’m sure you’ll find something to do in that head of yours,” Yakko teased, standing up. Wakko huffed, but didn’t say much outside of that, so Yakko took that as his brother’s permission and he went off with the nurse and doctor. 

“So... what’s this about? Is Dot okay?” Yakko asked once they were alone in a room. 

“No, Dot is doing vonderfully,” Scratchy shook his head. “Zis is about... something else.”

“Yakko, do you know why you came to Acme Falls?” Hello Nurse asked.

“Well, my mom told us- why are you asking?” Yakko raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, you see, your father actually grew up here, before he was a squire and moved away,” She said. “As such, Queen Angelina II and King William knew that you three would be safe here, in case anything happened to the two of them. We knew what to expect and more importantly, they knew we wouldn’t harm you or turn you in to King Salazar.”

Yakko paused a long moment. 

“You mean... you guys knew?” Yakko asked. 

“Vell... yah. Of course ve knew. Not everyone looks like your family, you know?” The doctor looked at him in a way that pointed out the stupidity of the question. Yakko facepalmed. 

“Right, yeah,” Yakko cringed. “So... why are you telling me this now?”

“Well, as I’m sure you’ve heard, the people of Warnerstock’s hatred of Salazar has only grown over the years, and rumors have spread about the Wishing Star and you three’s survival of the attack and now people are suggesting that you three inherit your parent's thrones, and well... we have proof,” The nurse explained, showing Yakko their birth certificates. 

Yakko’s eyes fell upon the familiar handwriting of his father, and he touched it carefully. 

“I-i... I don’t know what to say,” Yakko managed to get out. 

“It’s a lot to process, no?” The doctor said. Yakko nodded. 

“I-i just... I don’t know... I haven’t thought about actually returning to our old lives in... a really long time,” Yakko set down the certificates and scratched the back of his neck. 

“It’s one thousand percent up to you, we aren’t forcing you to do anything, we’re just... pointing something out, so to say,” Hello Nurse explained, feeling bad. 

“Yeah, I get that,” Yakko said. “Still it’s... wow. I mean... my dad really used to live here? Why didn’t anyone say anything?” he questioned.

“Well... I suppose there was never a right time. We did our best to make sure the three of you were well, but with everything going downhill so fast... well, there was only so much we could do,” She did her best to justify. Yakko slowly nodded. 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” He admitted. Looking back, he could see their acts of kindness and how they did try their best to have sympathy and help while the world went sour around them. The looking away when they borrowed food, the conveniently placed goods, the constant hiring of Wakko while they could. Acme Falls was good like that. 

“Well... I’ll need to talk to my sibs about this... and do some thinking... a lot of thinking,” Yakko said. 

“Of course, you shouldn’t rush a zing like zis, no?” The doctor agreed. Yakko bit his lip.

“So when will Dot be okay enough for guests?” Yakko asked. 

“Oh, not for a little while. Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to keep you two updated,” Hello Nurse said. “Should give you plenty of time to think.”

“Yippie,” Yakko laughed pathetically. The doctor and nurse gave him looks of sympathy. 

“You must be in your head often, no?” Scratchy asked. Yakko nodded. “Not fun.”

“Yeah, you said it,” Yakko said, standing up. 

“Well... I’ll give what you said a thought... this should be fun,” He nodded at them. 

“We’ll send for you if Dot wakes up while you’re gone,” The nurse suggested. Yakko nodded at that, and headed out of the room, pausing briefly outside of Dot’s room. 

“Please recover fast. I don’t know how much more of this thinking I can handle,” He thought, before walking back to the waiting room. 

“What’d they talk to you about?” asked Wakko. 

“Oh just... things,” Yakko couldn’t think of a lie fast enough. 

“What kind of things?” Wakko raised an eyebrow, painfully curious. 

“Legal things,” Yakko said, deciding the truth was boring enough. Wakko groaned.

“Everything is so boring now,” Wakko complained. “Why can’t everything be death defying and a mad chase for the Wishing Star?”

“There’s nothing boring about safety,” Yakko frowned, hoping his brother wasn’t already getting ideas. 

Then again, becoming prince again would be entertaining...

Yakko groaned as he felt a headache come on. 

“I’ll be back, I have a lot to think about,” Yakko said. 

“You’re gonna leave me again?” Wakko pouted. 

“Look, it’ll only be a minute. I’ll buy us some food, that sound good to you?” Yakko asked. Wakko nodded and handed Yakko his remaining ha’penny. 

“Just come back soon, Mr. Plotz is so boring... though now that he’s asleep...” Wakko looked at him, mischief gleaming in his eyes. Yakko snorted. 

“You do what makes you happy, just don’t pretend I was involved,” Yakko winked and left the hospital, happy to get out and get some fresh air. 

In truth, the day was still quite young. The Warners had gone to the hospital first thing in the morning, and after a quick, reassuring peptalk from Yakko, Dot’s nerves were soothed and she was taken into surgery. Now it was roughly two hours later, and the streets were full of people who were eager to spend the money that had been returned to them from the Baron, who kept his promise. Yakko couldn’t help but smile at the sight, reflecting on how it had only been two days ago the streets were barron and covered in snow, and the town lifeless and grey. 

It seemed Acme Falls was welcoming a bright, new future. 

A bright, new future they were probably all hoping was staring- well...

Him. 

His sibs. 

God, how their days of royalty felt like a million years ago. 

Yakko used to have plenty of happy memories of his parents dancing around in his head, but nowadays it seemed they were all tainted. Any time he remembered his mother singing and kissing him goodnight, he’d remember the last time he saw her, all bruised and bloodied. Any time he’d remember a funny story his father read to him, he’d recall his father telling him he’d never let anything bad happen to him or his sibs. 

He had made promises to his parents too: that he’d be able to protect them and keep them safe no matter what. 

Yakko sighed, as guilt weighed on his back as it so often did. He couldn’t help but wonder if there would ever be a day the guilt would go away. It wracked his mind for as long as he could remember, whether it was about not being able to save his mother, the orphanage closing, Dot’s health, Wakko going away, or how he had failed to protect them and almost lost both of them in one day.

Determined to not dwell, Yakko quickly began to make his way to the market in the town square and filled up his bag with fruits and veggitables, as well as a loaf of bread and couldn’t help but smile as he payed for it with the ha’penny. 

That was one benefit if they decided to inherit the throne: him and his siblings would never have to be hungry again. They’d have a nice, warm home and never want for anything ever again. 

But at the same time, Acme Falls had become a home to them. They knew most everyone around town, and it would feel strange not to see them. These people had done so much for them over the years, it wouldn’t feel right to leave them. 

Yakko thanked the grocer, and decided to stop by their home before going back to the hospital. 

It would probably do wonders for them to have a nice, warm home without giant holes in the roof that let in piles of snow and rain, and to have nice, warm beds that were stuffed with feathers and cleaned every day by servants instead of the uncomfortable bare-bones wooden ones Wakko and Yakko had. Goodness knew his back would probably appreciate it. 

Still... as he looked around he recognized it as home. He had lived their for a whole year- the longest he’s lived anywhere since before the attack. It would be really hard to say goodbye. 

Yakko sat down on his bed and groaned, annoyed as the headache flared. He really thought his mind would be used to all of this over analyzing and stressing by now, but it wasn’t. 

He then figured it was best he delay thinking about it until he was ready to discuss it with his siblings. For now, he’d head back to the hospital and wait for Dot to wake up. He had ignored Wakko long enough anways. 

Turns out, Yakko didn’t have to wait much at all, as Dot was already awake by the time he had made it back. 

“Yakko! Do you like my scar?” Dot beamed when he entered her room and showed off the scar on her chest where they had operated. Yakko laughed and nodded, feeling his headache disappear entirely. 

“Very cool,” He said, setting down the bag of food in the corner of the room.

“I think it’s faboo,” Wakko grinned with his tongue sticking out like a puppy. 

“How’re you feeling though? Do you feel well rested?” Yakko asked, going to the side of her bed and stroking her head. 

“I feel fine Yakko, really,” Dot reassured. 

“Yeah, she feels fine. You’re such a worry-wart,” Wakko teased him. 

Yakko rolled his eyes. “It’s kept us alive this long, and you can’t argue with that.” 

“Yeah yeah,” Wakko mumbled. Sometimes Yakko swore his brother was still four years old. 

“Anyway,” He said, giving his brother a look, “I was wondering if you’re okay enough to have a long and kinda tough conversation.” 

“What do you mean? Are you gonna yell at me again?” Dot blinked. 

“No, no. It’s not like that conversation,” Yakko said, feeling a pang of guilt. “I mean... well...” He sighed, not knowing how to say it other than to outright say it. Instead, he patted for Wakko to sit on Dot’s bed and he did. 

“Well... you two know how Mom and Dad were once king and queen before King Salazar, right?” Yakko asked. His siblings nodded. 

“Well... you see, now that Salazar is on the way out, now the people of Warnerstock are looking for the true heirs to the throne... us,” Yakko explained, his sibs taking a moment to process what he was saying. 

“You mean they want us to rule the country?” Wakko tilted his head. 

“I mean- basically, yeah,” Yakko nodded. 

“I’d get to be a princess?” Dot beamed. 

“Well- yes, but it’s a lot more than just fancy dresses and a castle,” Yakko warned. 

“What do you mean?” She frowned. 

“Well, for starters, it’d mean we’d have responsibilities, and big ones. We’d have to make sure to take good care of Warnerstock, and it’s citizens,” He explained. 

“Psh, we can do that,” Wakko blew it off. 

“Oh? And what makes you so confident?” Yakko raised an eyebrow. 

“You’ve taken care of us two for six years now, and you’ve done just fine,” Wakko said plainly. 

“Yeah right, you two almost died countless times,” Yakko rolled his eyes, but decided not to get into. 

“A whole kingdom is a lot more than just two people,” Yakko said. 

“How would the people even know we’re the heirs to the throne?” Dot tilted her head. 

“Outside of looks? The hospital has our birth certificates,” Yakko said. “They’re signed by our parents and everything.” 

Wakko and Dot blinked. 

“Can we see them?” Wakko asked.  

“Uh- okay,” Yakko nodded and asked for the nurse to bring them over. She did, and Yakko handed them to his siblings, surprised to see how much they captivated them. 

“Wow- my name is really long written down,” Dot remarked. 

“Well yeah, what else did you expect Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca III?” Yakko joked. 

“I honestly have no idea how you remember it all. I get them all mixed up,” Wakko commented. 

“Yeah, your name is nice and short, Wakkorotti,” Dot teased. 

“Dad’s handwriting was really neat and curly,” Wakko said, tracing the cursive with his finger. 

“That’s because it’s cursive and he was trained in calligraphy,” Yakko explained. “Which- if we decided to claim the throne- would be one of our responsibilities.”

“I wanna learn how to write curly letters!” Dot bounced up and down before wincing. 

“Take it easy Dot, no need to overexurt yourself. Dont’ forget you’re still recovering,” Yakko warned. 

“What else would we do?” Wakko asked. 

“Well... we’d make laws, sign treaties, keep people safe and happy, throw parties, and take a lot of classes that will probably be really boring for things like maners and such,” Yakko tried to recall what he could of his past for reference, but very little came up. 

“Would we still be together?” Dot asked. quieter. 

“Of course,” Yakko frowned with concern. “I’d never let them separate us.”

“We’d get a big fancy castle? With nice warm beds? And warm food?” Wakko quizzed. Yakko nodded. 

“O-of course, but it’s not that simple Wakko,” Yakko said, frustrated his worries weren’t getting through. 

“Then I don’t see what the problem is. Sign me up,” Wakko officially declared his support of reclaiming the throne. 

“Me too!” Dot agreed, and declared her support as well. 

“Well- I-... okay,” Yakko rubbed the bridge of his nose. In truth, he knew his siblings would be estatic about hearing that they could become royalty again, and that he’d be the only one with any problems. 

Well, he promised he’d listen and ask them, and that he did.

“If you guys are one hundred percent sure then... I’m sure too. Let’s go reclaim the throne... however you do that.”

.o0o.

After about a week of planning, they had finally done it. Salazar was gone and was never, ever coming back, Yakko made sure of that. 

He was amused by how scared the king had looked, knowing that he had been beaten by literal children. It was pathetic really, but Yakko enjoyed kicking him out nonetheless. After all, now he’d be rotting a cell for the rest of time. Yakko could finally rest easy about that. 

However, as he watched people redecorate the castle around him to become more and more like he remembered, he couldn’t help but feel like a ghost, viewing things that had once been. He had been dazed as he watched old tapestries get hung, and he had been left speechless when they asked for suggestions on flowers or colors. 

Thank god he had Wakko and Dot, otherwise he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do this.

Yakko smiled softly. Wakko and Dot had been so excited during the whole ordeal, only getting sad when they had to say goodbye to Acme Falls. They loved their new rooms (though they always ended up sleeping in Yakko’s room out of habit) and all the foods and dressing up and preparation for their corination. 

Oh god, their corination was today. Yakko was standing and getting his pants fitted for the ceremony which was in an hour. He was wearing a crown. 

He still couldn’t believe any of this was happening. 

“Now... how does that feel?” One of the seamstresses asked him, stepping back and giving him a good look up and down. 

“Feels weird to have pants that fit,” Yakko snorted, but admired himself in the mirror. 

He looked regal, almost. If he smiled and puffed out his chest, he looked like the epitome of confidence and charm. Thank god, he needed that or else everyone was going to realize he was just a scared kid. 

“But I like it. It looks great, thank you so much,” Yakko smiled and nodded at her. He then stepped down and decided to go looking for his sibs, noticing it had been awhile since he had seen them and he needed to make sure they hadn’t destroyed anything. 

“Yakko! These halls are so long, and really good for racing!” Dot said, nearly crashing into him as he turned the corner to see them. 

“Dot, what did I say about running around? You’re still recovering, take it easy,” Yakko shook his head and chuckled. As much as he warned against it, it filled him with joy to see her running around like a little kid again. After all, it had been over a year since she had been healthy.

“Lame,” Wakko rolled his eyes as he slowed down to join them. Yakko copied his motion as he scooped Dot up in his arms. 

“So, what’re you two doing in this hall? I think this is the one part of the castle I haven’t seen yet,” Yakko said. 

“A bunch of old art and stuff. The maid ladies said they haven’t decided where to put them up yet,” Wakko said, catching his breath. 

“Really? I thought I’d seen it all by now,” Yakko commented, now wanting to see them. Dot bobbed her head. 

“Oh yeah! They’re a bunch of old dresses and suits and stuff too, though a lot of them are really dirty,” She remarked. Yakko furrowed his eyebrows, not knowing what to think, as he started walking. 

As he walked, he noticed a lot of the furtinture in this hall was covered in while cloth, so he set Dot down and pulled them off before snorting. 

He remembered this one. It was a painting of an orchard from one of his Dad’s stories. It had been about a knight returning to his home village after years of being away, and falling for his childhood sweetheart before having to defeat a giant and saving the day for everyone. His father’s words had been so descriptive and precise, Yakko could recognize the painting in a flash. He was pretty sure it had been a birthday present to him when he was seven, though paintings were hardly what he’d consider a proper gift for a seven year old. 

Still. It felt nice to see it again. 

“What’s that? Who painted it?” Dot asked. 

“It’s a painting from one of Dad’s old stories. I’m pretty sure the royal artist did it... Pappy... Pabby... I don’t remember his name,” Yakko shrugged, not caring. 

“Can we have a royal painter? I wanna get a portrait done of me. Cuteness like this should be preserved,” Dot posed in her big pink dress. 

“I’ll think about it,” Yakko snickered, before moving to one that was much bigger than the others. Tilting his head, he pulled off the heavy cloth and took a step back as a layer of dust got into the air. After coughing and clearing the air, he looked at it and his body froze. 

“Woah, so realistic,” Wakko remarked, wanting to touch it.

“Who are those people?” Dot tilted her head. 

“Th-thats... th-that’s them,” Yakko said, unable to take his eyes off of it. 

It was a portrait of them, their whole family. It had been done a few weeks before the attack, and Yakko had never gotten to see the final product. But here it was- and it was so... so lifelike. Yakko wanted to reach out to it and touch it, hoping that he could feel his mother’s soft gloves and or his father’s fur cape. 

“Them?” Dot looked up at him. Yakko gulped hard. 

“M-mom and Dad,” he struggled to say. 

“Why are you shaking?” Dot asked. Yakko paused. He hadn’t noticed he was. 

“S-sorry sibs... it’s just... It’s really, really lifelike,” Yakko shook his head, trying to force himself out of the trance. “I can’t believe it survived. There’s no way any portraits of them should’ve made it. Most of them were burned or torn to pieces.”

“Wow... that’s what they looked like?” Dot asked, looking at it closer. Wakko nodded. 

“I only have one or two memories of Mum and Dad, but that’s them alright,” Wakko smiled a little, and Yakko wrapped an arm around him, before feeling himself start to shake again. 

“Oh god- what am I doing?” Yakko let go and took a step away from Wakko. His sibs looked back at him, equal parts concerned and confused. 

“I-i should be happy to see that a painting of them survived. I-i... I’ve missed seeing their faces a lot. B-but here I am, shaking like some idiot,” Yakko ran his fingers through his hair. He tried to gain control of his breath as he looked in the eyes of his parents in the painting, and felt another wave of emotions go down his spine. 

“I-i just... seeing them again, I-i...” Yakko tried to analyze his feelings, but it was proving to be very difficult. 

“It’s hard?” Wakko suggested. Yakko nodded slightly. 

“Y-yeah...” He sighed. “They just... they look so... regal. In control. They always knew what they were doing. They knew just how to protect us. No matter what happened, they had a plan to keep us safe, even if that ended up costing them,” He said, crossing his arms, as he felt guilt crawl into his throat and his eyes begin to fill with tears. 

“I just... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to match up to them,” He admitted, feeling a rogue tear escape. 

“God, I’m turning into such a cry baby,” Yakko muttered and wiped his eyes. 

“There’s no shame in crying, Yakko,” Dot frowned. “You should know that. You’ve told me all the time.”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Wakko said, stepping closer, clearly wanting to hug him. 

“Of course you two would say that,” Yakko sniffled, laughing a little. 

“Of course we would, we love you,” Wakko said, running to hug him. “And I know Mum and Dad loved you too.”

“I-I’m sure if they were around, they’d be proud Yakko. I mean- look at you. Somehow, you kept me and Wakko alive in Acme Falls for six years, and you’ve kept us safe and gave us food and protection, all while putting on a brave face to keep us happy,” Dot pointed out, joining the hug. “That’s incredibly brave and regal, if you asked me.”

Yakko patted her head softly. “Thanks sis.” Dot just smiled in return. Taking in a deep breath, Yakko tried to regain his composure. 

“You know... I’m really lucky to have you two,” Yakko said, and he meant it. He couldn’t imagine how his life would be if he didn’t have Dot or Wakko with him, especially right in this moment. 

“Really?” Wakko asked, his tongue now sticking out, as it so often did. 

“Of course,” Yakko ruffled his fur. “You two are honestly the best siblings and co-rulers a prince such as myself could ask for,” Yakko smiled. 

“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself,” Dot winked at him. Yakko snorted. 

“Seriously though, I couldn’t imagine doing this without you guys. You guys are probably the only thing keeping me sane right now,” He said, only half joking. 

“It’s okay Yakko, we aren’t going anywhere,” Wakko laughed a little. 

“Yeah! We’re a team, we all agreed on that. You’re never gonna have to worry about being alone ever again,” Dot said with a big smile. 

“Good,” He said, hugging the two of them a little bit closer as he wiped away another tear. With a breath, he looked at his watch and gasped. 

“Brain is gonna kill us if we’re late, we have to hurry. It’s almost time,” Yakko said, and Wakko and Dot nodded. 

“You gonna be okay?” Wakko asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” He nodded. “I got the best team ever. And if all else fails, I’ll improvise a little, that’s always worked out, right?” He said, in reference to the speech he was going to have to make to the kingom. He had written cue cards, but in all honesty he thought those ideas were garbage and he’d figure it out when he got there, which was probably a terrible idea, but if he could improvise a way to keep the three of them from being killed by Salazar, he could probably improvise an acceptance speech to the kingdom. 

“We believe in you,” Wakko and Dot gave him big thumbs up. 

“You two are dorks. Go finish getting ready, I’ll be there in a minute,” Yakko said. Wakko and Dot nodded, scurrying off to get some final touches done (mostly redoing their hair since they had just spent goodness knew how long running around). 

Once they disappeared, Yakko sighed and turned back to the portrait. 

“H-hi Mom... Hi Dad,” He gulped. 

“I-it’s me. Yakko. I-i don’t know if you recognize me, it’s been a while since you’ve seen me,” He said, cringing at how stupid he must’ve sounded. Still, he felt... better talking to them, so he continued. 

“I-i just want to say... thanks. For everything. You’ve left some really big shoes to fill- well... not shoes exactly, we’ve never really worn shoes, but... you know,” He joked. 

“And I just... thanks for giving me Wakko and Dot. Seriously. If you were still here, you’d be so proud of them, I just know it,” He said. 

“I wasn’t kidding earlier: I really don’t know if I could’ve made it this far without them... They’re so much like you two in so many ways, you’d be surprised. Dot as your kindness and your strength, while Wakko has your optimism and your courage...” Yakko smiled weakly. 

“I guess despite everything, we did turn out okay,“ He said, feeling a wave of comfort and relaxation wash over him. 

Despite all the hell they had been through, they were okay, and right where they were always supposed to be. 

Yakko had done a good job after all. He truly had kept his promise to his mother. He had protected and watched over them and kept them safe and sound. 

“Yakko! Brain said to come and get you before he kills you!” Wakko called from the other end of the hall. 

“Be right there!” He replied, before returning to the painting. 

“I miss you a lot... but it’s okay now. I’m okay,” He said. 

“I have my sibs, and no one is ever going to separate us ever again. Not even death itself.”

Yakko took a deep breath and smiled. “I have to go now... but I’m sure I’ll be back. I just gotta go rule a kingdom, I’m sure you understand,” He joked, before shaking his head. He waved goodbye to the painting and ran to go join his siblings at the tower where the balcony where they were going to give their speech was. 

“You two ready?” Yakko asked, adjusting his cape. 

“Born ready,” Dot gave a toothy grin. Yakko snorted. 

“Ready to go when you are Yakko,” Wakko grinned as well. 

“Are you ready Yakko?” Brain asked. 

“With a team like this? Of course,” Yakko nodded at the mouse. Brain accepted the corny response, nodding at a guard, who them opened the doors wide. 

Yakko then held Wakko and Dot’s hands and gave them a tight squeeze, before together, they stepped out into the rest of their lives, secure in the fact that no matter what life threw at them next, they’d always have each other.

Always.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

[novels-lover]

Review of this son of York.

This is one of the most recent fictional novels about the life of Richard III from his childhood to his death, how is it different from other books? Well, it includes the scoliosis of Richard III as something crucial in his life that defines his character, despite the fact that the author seems to have a positive opinion of RIII in other books that she has written releated to him in this novel RIII is not innocent of all the crimes of those that history has accused him over the centuries, rather the book seeks to present us a balanced portrait of RIII, so he is not a misunderstood hero as in other recent books, the truth is that the book does not have success portraying his childhood that ended up being an illogical and simple portrait, his adolescence is affected by scoliosis and the problems of the country at this point the book does present an interesting, dark, insecure, ambitious character but not a bad person, here i would say that the book improves and becomes a quick read although it sacrifices the descriptive details in the process which does not allow you to get involved in the plot or in the scenarios, even so it becomes a good reading it develops the facts in an entertaining way, the ending is very well achieved with a dramatic and nostalgic touch, it is not a bad book but to be recent it leaves out many facts that are known from history of RIII, it is not the best book about RIII not the worst has good moments so I give it 3 stars no five because throughout the book many events become absurd.

SPOILERS

Anne Easter the author of this book has been writing novels about the family and even Richard's mistress who according to her book (A rose for the crown) gave him 3 children, and in this book she finally decided to take RIII as her character main bringing back to Kate the mistress presented in a rose for the crown, the books are not exactly a saga so it is not necessary to read the others to understand this one or any other.

Richard is a child who grows up in hard times, he faces the death of his father and political betrayals, which makes him a strong child who learns about justice and life (the lessons are credible but they are presented to him and absorbed in a rather ridiculous way), he is sent to the house of his cousin Richard Neville Kingmaker with whom he creates a bond, there he meets other childrens who will be his friends but unlike other books in this case Rob Percy is initially the closest to Richard not Francis Lovell, during these years of training Richard experiences a physical attraction a bit sexualized by Isabel Neville the eldest daughter of his mentor the kingmaker , Richard is almost a teenager like Isabel so this adoration is understandable but unfortunately she he ignores Richard because she likes Geroge of clarence Richard's hated brother with whom he can never get along because of the bulling and the incompatibility of personalities Geroge is an idiot ambitious and Richard is loyal and hardworking (the book does not do a great job showing these positive things in Richard at least not convincingly) Richard soon gets over his "adoration" for Isabel, oh by the way around fluttering like a butterfly is Anne Neville ,Isabel's younger sister who is almost obsessed with Richard whom she sees as a hero Why? No idea , he does nothing but treat her with contempt and manipulate her during those years but Anne seems to be determined to be a victim of life from the beginning. Richard soon begins to be independent and gets a mistress named Kate with whom he has a relationship of pure love and passion (quite romanticized and totally tragic: a royal duke and she a poor nobody) they have three children but Kate will hide the last one from him, Why? For Richard not to have this son on his conscience and go to his political marriage guilt-free (despite the fact that he was conceived before he got married which makes this part absurd and stupid, I mean two bastard children have to be accepeted by his future wife but THREE ?? (would be impossible according to kate's logic), the good thing is that we do not read so much of this cloying and silly romance, although it is clear to us that Kate is and will always be Richard's true love.

Richard suffers bitterly, the scoliosis feels that God punishes him and becomes pious (although he sleeps with Kate who is married and not to him obviosly ) the scoliosis bothers him a lot and is worse when he ends up in Exile in Burgundy for the second time in his life because his brother loses the throne, and more painful for Richard is knowing that his mentor Kingmaker is on the other side fighting for the Lancaster house and has also given his youngest daughter Anne Neville in marriage to Prince Edward of Lancaster that affects Richard and he is like: Nooo Anne! They say that Edward is a monster for sure it will be bad on her and now that I think about it, I would like her for a wife because of her pedigree (So Richard was an idiot with Anne but he is a Duke of York so it's okay, not that this Edward is a Lancaster so he does not have permission to be an idiot with Anne ok ....) Richard triumphs as a commander of his brothe York won and he becomes a hero, everything seems to be going well he has a good relationship with his brother the King and even with his sister-in-law queen Elizabeth, but the ugly part is that his duty is to assassinate the deposed King Henry VI whom he kills with his own hands (It sounds like something stolen from Shakespeare's play, it is also done in an absurd way, it is something like "take off clumsy mercenary I will do it ") from that moment Richard is convinced that God punishes him for this murder and the scoliosis worsens which leads him to develop mood swings and outbursts of anger, he goes to rule the north and decides to marry Anne Neville who lost her husband during the last battle of course that she is still stupidly in love with Richard, he leaves his mistress and promises to focus on his wife Anne who is a strong and sweet girl loving him nonetheless his bastards or his scolicis, she bears his mood swings, the love he always keeps in his heart for kate over the years, and waits in the sanctuary for months because Richard is a bit clumsy negotiating for their marriage with his brothers, thir life together is not so bad in general and he is faithful (in body because in mind he couldn't stop thinking about Kate even after Anne's death he falls into her arms again) he treats Anne with respect but he is not the husband of the year, for him Anne is a consolation but she will never be Kate who he sees through the years and he even uses his children as a remembrance of that love, all this while Anne goes around rubbing his sore back, being a good stepmother, a good wife, an excellent consort, and loving him madly, which I never understood, except to make love to her with charm, he does not do much to make her happy. (seriously Anne why did you love him all your life?).

Richard manages the north with efficiency and sees happy how is killed George Clarence his brother, not only he does not care about him but it seems good to him that they kill him as always they hated each other is understandable or should be but is not ( Richard felt gulty and sad for killing Henry VI, he became pious and God fearing but then he goes to support his own brother's murder for not reason apart from their childish fights every three or more years that they meet each other but it seems that was good for the plot so Richard kills someone else )

He becomes King at the death of his brother Edward with the typical version, Edward's non-legal marriage, Buckigham manipulates everything (Richard becomes alcoholic as events progress and does not use his logic much to unravel all the conspiracies), I was surprised that he will not kill the princes (Shakespeare must be disappointed), his niece elizabeth falls in love with him, Why? No idea at this point Richard is not only angry all the time but also a little out of control with the situation but she loves him, and gets angry when he rejects her "I hate you man I will marry Henry Tudor" (as if she had a vote in the bussines) The ending explains well the betrayal and the mental state of Richard I think that the most redeemable in general is this Richard that is dark quite complex but does not convince me especially considering that he was a man who even today generates hate or love, they had reasons to hate him but I saw few to love him, I think only Kate and Edward could consider him a good person in this book because he trated them well almost always, I recognize that the character is well done the author does a good job with him but I am not convinced nor do I like him I think he is terribly poorly balanced and the book for me is full of silly or a little absurd things that ruined the story, in general I am disappointed to know that now with so much information avaliable Anne easter still went for myths instead of go for facts or use her logic .

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

And the aftermath of the first battle. Featuring more OFA talk!

[No. 34 - Victory or Defeat]

The cover art for this chapter is actually pretty gorgeous. Like, wow, that HAIR. It looks so damn soft I can’t even.

Getting into the chapter itself, we get just shy of a page of flashback to Shinsou’s middle school. Several students are talking about how cool Shinsou’s quirk is, how they’ve never heard of a quirk like it, how jealous they are. One student comments on how he could make all kinds of trouble with it, while another adds on that it’d be without getting his hands dirty. She then asks Shinsou not to go around controlling them. 

Past Shinsou just laughs it off and notes how everyone says that, with his internal narrative thinking about how he’d also expect bad things from someone with his ability. That person would probably turn into a criminal - a villain, even. So he’s used to everyone implying that about him. That’s just how the world works.

Back in the present, we see Shinsou gritting his teeth, while Izuku is standing over him, a bit bloody and beaten, but still victorious. Present Mic again confirms Izuku is going to the second round. Up in the stands, Kaminari nudges Katsuki’s shoulder with his own, noting how Izuku had also gotten him with that shoulder toss. Katsuki looks a bit put out, I guess? Or just distracted. He calls Kaminari dunce face, which gets a fantastic face out of Kaminari.

Artwork. 

There’s a bit here about Izuku using a baiting tactic that I’m not sure whether is from Katsuki or Aizawa, since Aizawa’s thought process continues in the next panel. In either case, I am certain it’s Aizawa noting how Izuku was concentrating his quirk in just his finger, like the strength test and the throw in battle training. Izuku’s been learning from those experiences - or rather, said experiences have forced him to adapt. 

As Shinsou and Izuku bow (or at least Izuku does), Present Mic comments on how the event is off to an uneventful start, before encouraging the crowds to put their hands together for their fierce competitors. As the crowds do so, Izuku is thinking about Shinsou’s words, being ‘naturally blessed’ and ‘getting to follow his dreams.’ Eventually, Izuku asks why Shinsou wants to be a hero. Shinsou turns away to start leaving the platform while replying that ‘we don’t get to choose the things we naturally admire.’

Izuku vibes deeply with this, thinking about how those feelings are just like how Izuku was before he got One For All. But as he is now, what does he say to that?

Shinsou gets his own surprise, however, when his classmates start shouting their praises from the stands above the entryway. One says how awesome Shinsou had been out there, another on how he’d had them on the edge of their seats, a third on Shinsou being the shining star of the general studies guys, and a fourth on how he’d done just as well as the guy who’d gotten third in the obstacle course (Katsuki). Shinsou looks like he has no idea how to process this. And if that’s not enough, the heroes in the crowds are also talking about him and his quirk with no small amount of admiration.

...oh man, wait, do I spy Miss Joke there with the crowds?

Why, yes it is! I don’t know if her character was fully planned or background developed at this point, but I suppose Hori must have elevated hr to more than a one-off appearance at some point. Perhaps liked her relatively simple design?

But yeah, we shift back to Shinsou and the other gen ed students as the latter point it out, and repeat how awesome he is. Shinsou says nothing for a moment, hesitating at the entrance, before speaking to Izuku. UA will consider transfers to the hero course depending on the results here. Remember that. Maybe he failed here, but he’s not giving up. He’ll show UA he’s got what it takes to make the hero course, and he’ll become a greater hero than all of the other students. 

Izuku accepts this driven challenge, only to get caught in Shinsou’s quirk again. Izuku’s confused, because the match is already over. Shinsou comments on how people who respond to him tend to stiffen up like that, and how it’d be easy to mess everything up for Izuku just now. But instead he just demands a promise as he lets Izuku loose from his quirk - don’t lose in a sorry way out there. Izuku agrees again, only to again be temporarily caught in Shinsou’s quirk.

Also, it's a teeny thing here, but I know there's been people (not necessarily in here, but in general) who've questioned how shinsou's quirk works, and from here in the sports festival, what I can at least determine is this:

-his quirk can affect multiple people at once

-people don't remember what they were doing under the quirk's effect (barring Izuku for Reasons)

-his quirk takes effect when he chooses after someone responds verbally to him (sign language or writing don't work)

-it can be a statement or question someone responds to!

-general non-word noises, or non-directed sounds (ie izuku's growls of exertion) don't work as targets for shinsou's quirk

Anywho, with that, we transfer over to Recovery Girl’s temporary office, where Izuku is getting himself healed up while Toshinori hovers nearby nervously. Izuku admits that he couldn’t smile at all, and Toshinori considers that and figures this must have been a tough battle for him, given what Shinsou was saying. Izuku replies that that doesn’t make it okay for him to lose; when you’re aiming for the top, that’s just how it is, right?

Recovery Girl is not impressed with the ‘life lessons’ Toshinori is passing on to Izuku, spinning around to wallop Toshinori on his non-injury side. Toshinori tries to reply that it’s all necessary, only to be interrupted by said wallop and yelp in pain. While Toshinori is nursing his poor abused ribs, Izuku brings up the vision he had. 

He saw eight or nine shadows - not sure on that - when his mind was lulled from the brainwashing, the vision appeared and snapped him out of it. In that instant, he was just barely able to move his fingertip. One of them had Toshinori’s hairstyle… so could it have been the souls of the people who have inherited One For All?

Now, a few things I have to say to this: 

First off, holy SHIT did Izuku already pretty much hit the nail on the head for what’s happening here. We obviously don’t really get more about this for, what, a hundred and fifty or so chapters? I dunno when the JTA is in the manga exactly, so I’m probably off, but even before then, there’s only a few hints here and there about the whole ‘ghost’ thing happening - and yet, Izuku already is kinda sus of what’s happening after just one vision. 

Secondly, while it’s way more likely that it’s Izuku being scared and confused that has him questioning the number of shadows he saw there, I also really love how it’s a perfect set-up for something Fishy if Hori so wants, while also allowing an out if he doesn’t want. It’s like, does the number mean something, or is it just a scared schoolkid struggling to remember details he only glimpsed for a moment?

In any case, we move on to Toshinori’s response to this strange vision. Mostly in that he finds it kinda scary. Izuku is confused, because he was sure Toshinori would know. Toshinori admits that he did see them once when he was young, and that it’s a clear sign Izuku is getting used to One For All. 

At Izuku’s visible confusion, Toshinori continues - the shadows are traces of the quirk’s past bearers. But whatever they are, they can’t directly interfere or influence Izuku. Nor can Izuku affect them. In other words, that vision wasn’t what undid the brainwashing. Rather, it was Izuku’s protagonist powers strong will that allowed him to see those faces - and as far as Shinsou’s brainwashing, Izuku overcame it! Just for an instant! He managed to move that fingertip all on his own.

Izuku isn’t convinced, but Toshinori chastises him, telling him not to dwell on it, and shouldn’t he be worrying about his next opponent instead? Izuku agrees, and thanks both him and Recovery Girl before heading out. Only once Izuku is gone does Recovery Girl note that Toshinori’s shadow had been there too. Toshinori replies how that’s not a bad thing.

My take on this whole scene?

But yeah, it definitely is interesting how early Hori outright told us what was happening with One For All, only for it to be dismissed by Toshinori and a good chunk of the audience. I mean, I don’t know if Hori was planning everything with the vestiges and the other quirks at this point, but he sure laid the groundwork here, and I kind of love it. 

Anywho, moving on from that, we shift over to Shouto making his way towards the arena for his own fight, only to run into the last person he wants to see - Endeavor. Shouto tells Endeavor to get out of his way, but Endeavor ignores him, instead calling Shouto a disgrace to him. He harps on about how Shouto could have crushed the obstacle course and the cavalry battle if he’d used his left side. Shouto says nothing as he marches himself past his father. 

Endeavor tells Shouto to grow up, and stop rebelling like some petulant child. His duty is to surpass All Might. He’s different from his siblings - Endeavor’s greatest creation! Shouto asks if that’s all Endeavor has to say, then states how he’ll win this with his mom’s power alone. He’ll never use Endeavor’s power in battle. Endeavor states how that might be good enough while he’s a schoolkid, but he’ll reach his limit soon enough. 

Shouto is… not in a good headspace. As we’ll see momentarily. 

Izuku joins Ochako and Tenya in the stands while Present Mic starts to announce the participants of the next match. Sero Hanta, the cream of the crop, and yet somehow still as plain as they come! Versus Todoroki Shouto, the best of the best, strongest of the strong! 

The match starts as Sero finishes stretching himself out, stating how he doesn’t really feel much like winning. His arms then snap forward, the tape rushing out to wrap around Shouto. Sero tugs back, yoinking Shouto into position to be swung out of the arena. Present Mic hypes up the surprise attack maneuver, and how it’s probably the best strategy for him, overall complementing how Sero’s giving it his all. Shouto, still somewhat mad-eyed, apologizes, and then-

...yikes. How Sero (or any audience members in the way) didn’t die here is a show of Shouto’s astounding control here, even if it doesn’t seem like it. The entire stadium is dead silent as Sero calls the move a bit overkill. Midnight, half-frozen as well, tentatively asks Sero if he can move. Sero asks if she’s kidding, before the frostbite starts getting to him and he starts biting back pained hisses. Midnight announces Sero’s loss, and the crowds are… pretty sympathetic, calling out good tries to him. 

Shouto steps forward to start defrosting Sero, apologizing for overdoing it, stating that he’d just been annoyed. Up in the stands, Izuku watches on, with his future narration noting that, lost amid the cheers that arose from the audience, he saw Shouto defrost his own frozen self with his left hand. And to Izuku… something about Shouto seemed really sad. 

Shouto is announced to be moving on to the second round, and the chapter closes.

Holy shit. This chapter is actually really something, and not just because of One For All. But still, it really is fascinating to see what groundwork laid early on in the series ended up being used way down the line by Hori as he got more comfortable with the direction he wanted his story to go in. 

Anywho, see you next time for the last chapter of volume four! Which means the next bonus material post is upcoming. And I can just say there’s some interesting stuff in that as well…

[mightydragoon]

Tiny Luke and Dad Vader fanfic recs

As of @silvereddaye request . 

1 A Simple Twist of Fate By: TheRealThing

Destiny brings Darth Vader's twin son and daughter, who he has believed dead for ten years, into his life unexpectedly.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4292852/1/A-Simple-Twist-of-Fate

2.   Force Bond 1: Orphan By: KittandChips 

AU After Owen and Beru are killed by a mysterious stranger, young Luke ends up as an orphan on Coruscant. It's a race against time as Obi-Wan struggles to find Luke before Vader realizes the boy is his son.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/347383/1/Force-Bond-1-Orphan

3.  Force Bond 2: Threat By: KittandChips 

Luke finds himself moving in with a moody, secluded Sith Lord who is also his newly found father. Vader has his own set of challenges to overcome, as he struggles to come to terms with his fatherhood.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/388791/1/Force-Bond-2-Threat

4.  Force Bond 3: Son By: KittandChips 

Third in the series of an AU where Luke is raised by Vader on Coruscant. Luke is getting older and struggling to come to terms with what awaits in the future.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/562682/1/Force-Bond-3-Son

5. Force Bond 4: Jedi    By: KittandChips 

AU. Fourth in a series where Luke has been raised by Vader on Coruscant. Luke is caught between his loyalty and love for the man who raised him, and his desire not to become a Sith.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1037550/1/Force-Bond-4-Jedi

6. The Father By: frodogenic 

Ten years after ROTS, tormenting nightmares of his unborn child drive Darth Vader to extraordinary measures with unexpectedly drastic consequences. Clearly, experience has taught Darth Vader nothing... L/V, the gang, and a few OCs for flavor. COMPLETE!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3092590/1/The-Father

7.  Dark Father By: JoieMaris 

Four years after ROTS, Vader is haunted by nightmares from the Force. His dreams lead him to two special children. AU.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10806023/1/Dark-Father

8.  Silence By: Shy Snootles 

AU story, set four years after ROTS. Darth Vader has become the Empire's very image of death and destruction. But a fortuitous encounter with a little boy will shake the until then rock solid foundations of his Darkness and hatred.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2946568/1/Silence

9.  Free to Fly  By: Mahina 

Luke is nine and a slave in Jabba's palace when Darth Vader returns to fulfill an old promise. LV list challenge.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7045903/1/Free-to-Fly

10.  Dissociative Identity Disorder By: T. Alana M 

Formerly titled "The Good Son". DID: a condition wherein a person's identity is fragmented into two or more distinct personalities. Or, where Anakin Skywalker makes it his life's goal to drive Darth Vader to the brink of insanity. His four year old son spectates.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9706778/1/Dissociative-Identity-Disorder

(Note* Incomplete) 

11.  Darkness's Son One: But Light Was Always the Son of Darkness By: The Hope Lions

After getting caught at a rebel rally, ten year old Luke Skywalker is arrested and brought to Coruscant. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan Kenobi will do anything to prevent Darth Vader from discovering his son's existence, but will the Jedi be too late?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11850017/1/Darkness-s-Son-One-But-Light-Was-Always-the-Son-of-Darkness

12.    Darkness's Son Two: The Darkness Is There By: The Hope Lions 

Sequel to "But Light Was Always the Son of Darkness" Luke Skywalker has been living with his father for four years, but that doesn't mean it's gotten any easier. Now that Luke is no longer a child he has to deal with a whole host of new problems. Sooner or later he's bound to crack under the pressure of what it means to be Darth Vader's Jedi son. Updated daily!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12011466/1/Darkness-s-Son-Two-The-Darkness-Is-There

13.  Far From Over  By: Above the Winter Moonlight 

COMPLETE AU, Eight years post ROTS. When Darth Vader learns that his son is still alive, he is determined to find him. All the while, Obi-Wan Kenobi is struggling to hide the young boy from his father's prying eyes…FS inside, R&R

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5445132/1/Far-From-Over

14. Second Time  By: Brievel 

Darth Vader finds a five-year-old Luke Skywalker wandering the dunes of Tatooine, lost, and realizes the child is his son. What is he to do with the boy?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11326985/1/Second-Time

15. every planet, every star, every single grain of sand --- loosingletters

In which Darth Vader finds 9-year-old Luke on Tatooine, proceeds to have a breakdown, kills Palpatine and makes his preteen son Emperor, as you do. Otherwise known as the Adventures of Teeny Tiny Emperor Luke and his Royal Dad Guard Darth Vader.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22714810/chapters/54283174

16. In Which the Force Finally Becomes Proactive --sparklight

Better late than never, right? This has gone on long enough, and the Son of the Suns need some help to get out of that poisoned swamp he's stuck in. What better help than his own son, and the planet he was born on?

Luke starts out dreaming, first about his father, then about his grandmother. She wants him to help save his father, but his father is dead, isn't he..?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9109462/chapters/20705959

17. Skywalker Family Values --Ariel_Sojourner

Camp Chippewa is proud to be the Empire’s foremost camp resort for privileged young adults. Located on the picturesque forest moon of Endor, your child will have the opportunity to participate in wholesome outdoor activities and socialize appropriately with their peers. We invite your offspring to join us for the experience of a lifetime and a bright future in service of the greater glory of the Empire.

On opposite sides of the galaxy, on opposite sides of a civil war, Darth Vader and Padme Amidala unwittingly send Luke and Leia to the same camp during school break. Chaos naturally ensues.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14258124/chapters/32883750

(note* Comedy freaking gold) 

18. The Necklace  By: Ellisaed 

What if Padmè's japor snippet hadn't been buried with her on Naboo? What if it had somehow been able to bring together the children that had been torn apart? And with her husband - now a notorious Sith Lord - on a endless search to regain the necklace back, will it end up being the galaxy's greatest mistake? *NEW: Chapter 10!*

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8765936/1/The-Necklace

19. Chiaroscuro -- SpellCleaver

A series of oneshots focusing on Luke and Vader's relationship, with other characters occasionally thrown into the mix.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16363772/chapters/38293637

20.  Visiting Shmi Skywalker’s Grave --Iva1201

Darth Vader decides to visit his mother's grave one last time to finally get rid of all his attachments. Can he succeed when there is one more person visiting the tomb at the same time, this person being his own young son? Or will Anakin Skywalker resurface when meeting the boy?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239112/chapters/18881579

21.  Glove --Superheronerd_1

It wasn't as though he wanted to murder the younglings, that he wanted to murder those around him that he had seen in battle. Those who have had his back, who have saved him and he then countless of times.

But sacrifice was necessary.

“-dodged a large rock-”

Yet this, this he could not sacrifice.

He will not sacrifice.

“-flew over, no Luke, don't nibble my cape.” Vader said, amused.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6430528/chapters/14719456

22.  Imperial Babysitters -Laivaaja

Star Wars Fan Comic: Luke Skywalker is raised by his father Darth Vader on a star destroyer. The young officers Piett and Veers are Luke’s awesome uncles who constantly end up babysitting him (and worrying too much when he gets into trouble).

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11621658/chapters/26131065

23. Between the Light and Shadows: Luke & Vader One-Shots -SilverDaye

One-shot collection focused on Luke and Vader. All AU.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15128117/chapters/48583628

(Note* Silver has a bunch of these so here we go, not all but godamn I would say the vast majority of these are.  ) 

24. Sent Out for Safety-- throwawayflames

At the age of eight, Luke Skywalker and his sister, Leia, are split up for their safety. Leia stays with their Uncle Ben, and their mother, to learn how to be a Jedi. Luke, on the other hand, is sent to the Organa's, where he will pretend to be their adoptive son who was orphaned. Ben had only given Luke one rule to live by while he was away from his family, don't tell anyone his last name, and he followed that.

It wasn't his fault that Darth Vader sensed that he was a Force Sensitive and now he wants to train him, as a Jedi no less. That's the complete opposite of what Ben had told Luke. And after asking Darth Vader about his dad, Luke can't help but say yes to Darth Vader training him. After all, Luke's always wanted to be a Jedi like his father.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22659655/chapters/54159751

25. For Want of a Skywalker --acuteneurosis

After the miracle of having survived Bespin, Piett does not ask why they are stopping on Tatooine. Or why Lord Vader suddenly has acquired a small child. Or why this child's name is Luke. Or how long they are going to keep him.

He probably should have.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044874/chapters/52612567

26. Where Our Intrepid Hero Doesn't Get Away- sparklight

One-shots surrounding either AU situations of canon/legends works where Luke would normally have gotten away (or Vader is simply inserted into the action to come pick his child up) but in these instances doesn't, or completely new scenarios of the same. Any time an AU is mentioned to be based on a comics issue it's from the new Marvel Star Wars comics (2015) (unless otherwise noted).

There are no deep ruminations on consequences of the situations here, just our awful Sith dad picking his son up when he'd rather not be.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837094/chapters/11078918

(note* again not all include Little Luke but they do involve Luke and Vader) 

27.  Runaway SilverDaye

Imperial Prince Luke runs away from home to escape his overprotective father Emperor Vader. Jumping from planet to planet he finds himself creditless on Tatooine. While working for more money to leave the planet, Luke meets an old man named Ben Kenobi. But Luke knows he can't stay in one place for long for surely his father is hunting him down.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630196/chapters/33813027

28. Bring Him Home -- KeeperofSeeds

Vader is sent to Tatooine by his Master after a series of failures. While there he discovers the existence of Luke. He meets Luke, convinces him to come with him off planet, and manages to hide him away for a while. He knows his Master won't tolerate a powerful force sensitive like Luke running around as a free agent once he's old enough to be a threat, and he also knows exactly how horrible it is to serve Palpatine. He won't let Luke be taken and used like that.

Eventually though, his deception is discovered.

Vader knows he isn't powerful enough to protect Luke on his own, and he isn't ready to overthrow Palpatine yet. He decides the only safe place for Luke is with the Rebel Alliance, the very people who've managed to stay out of his reach so far. So he takes Luke and defects.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15994967/chapters/37317818

29. Stranger Danger LadyVader23

When Vader is suddenly given custody over the five year old son he didn't know he had, he attempts to get his daughter, Leia to befriend him. But as soon as his back is turned, Luke runs away, hiding in the mall that Vader owns. Vader tries frantically to find his son while Luke enjoys exploring the mall on his own. Shenanigans ensue.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23010670

30.  A Mother's Decision -- Valerie_Vancollie

What if Padmé had brought Luke to Vader when Luke was only nine months old?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12915687

Other Links 

Luke and Vader

Founder: Moyima - Stories: 198 - Followers: 573 - Staff: 3 - id: 5265Stories featuring the father and son relationship between Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader a collection of fics inspired by the vivicious yahoo group: The Luke Vader Writers.

https://www.fanfiction.net/community/Luke-and-Vader/5265/

(Note these ones include Luke and Vader though not all are Tiny Luke. Good place to start though) 

Luke and Darth Vader Tag 

https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Luke%20Skywalker%20*a*%20Darth%20Vader/works

[love-me-my-anime-boys]

So imagine, what if All Might really did have a secret love child....?

Say Toshinori is with his high school girlfriend, the love of his life, his high school sweetheart, has dreams of becoming heroes together and becoming the most powerful dynamic duo. (sounds adorable right?) Then after Nana, his mentor, his mother figure is killed by All For One, and Gran Torino must send Toshi off to America for his own safety, and warns him that he will have to leave everything and everyone behind, even his high school sweetheart, for her own safety, and his. However even she doesn’t know the secret of One For All yet or the danger that Toshi would be in if he stayed, because he had yet to confide the biggest secret he held to her yet. On top of that he didn’t know how to tell her he was leaving for and undetermined amount of time, and for her own protection she would not be able to follow him. So the last night he would be with her, he plans on taking her out on an amazing date and he has every intention of telling her about having to leave to America to finish his training and that he will come back when he is done and they will spend their lives together as the heroes they dreamed of becoming. However things do not go according to plan...

They are out at a very fancy restaurant, dressed to kill, so to speak. She is in on of her fanciest of dresses and and matching pumps and he is in his best suit. The evening couldn’t be more perfect, the stars couldn’t be brighter, the moon couldn’t be fuller. The candles at the dinner table only helped bring out the love that shon in each other’s eyes. Only a single tear welled up in the corners of Toshi’s eyes. Everything was so perfect, but in his mind and in his heart everything he had tried to hold inside was about to spill out and he feared it was going to ruin their last night together. The tears going unnoticed by his girlfriend, she suggests they get out of there and go somewhere more private. So they leave the restaurant and go for a slow walk on the beach, hand in hand, her carrying her shoes in the other so she can feel the sand between her toes. All the while Toshi is rolling with emotions and trying desperately hard to keep it all inside, but his girlfriend knows how to read him, she knows something is bothering him. She tries to pry the answers out of him but all he can get himself to admit to her is how stunning she looks in the moonlight. Knowing he’s not going to go into any further detail of what’s really bothering him, she opts to distract him. She lets go of his hand and throws her shoes off to the side and starts to slip off her dress, Toshi completely bewildered asks what she’s up to, and she teasingly says she’s going for a swim, and suggests that he follow her. Never had they been so open about such things but it was fairly late and no one else was around, and if this was going to be their last night together, why the hell not. He tosses his evening jacket and tie and undresses while chasing her into the water, for a nice, intimate, skinny dip in the ocean. This seems to be enough to distract him from his worries for the time being. After they get out , they gather their clothes and make their way to a deserted beach house, and she starts a fire in the fireplace with her quirk and he goes to find some towels and hopefully some spare clothes that may have been left behind.

Toshi returns to find her in the bedroom, wrapped in a red sheet, sitting on the side of the bed, waiting for him. He is stunned by her beauty, they had never gone so far in their relationship up until this night. Toshi being so entranced how her skin glowed in the moonlight dropped what he was carrying and joined her on the bed, starting with slow, deep kisses, ending in the throws of passionate, lustful, love making. They were so happy and in love, how could he tell her everything now. He laid there on his back, her head on his chest, and his arm wrapped warmly and protectively around her, keeping her close and gently petting her hair like silk. He can’t sleep this night, so much noise in his head, but he won’t allow that to stir his girl on this night, she just looked so blissful and perfect, he wanted to soak this image into his memory forever. Because this may be the last time he will see her for a very long time, if ever again.

Morning came and she slowly wakes up, but she is alone. She looks around for Toshi, but all she can find is a little velvet box and a note that says that he is sorry for leaving like this but he will come back for her. That he hopes she will accept this ring as a promise that he will come back and explain everything to her when he can, that it must be this way for now for her safety. But her heart is breaking, she had no explanation, no good bye, nothing, and she couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing. What did he mean ‘for her own safety’, and she had no way of contacting him or finding out where he went. No one knew of his sudden disappearance and Gran Torino refused to spill the beans, only reiterated that it was indeed for her own good.

A couple months go by, and ever since that last night together, she has cried herself to sleep. Whether it was out of hurt, or anger, or hatred, or full on sorrow and loneliness, she sobbed until her eyes were swollen shut and her head hurt so bad she just passed out. Until she started waking up rushing to the bathroom to puke. At first she thought it was because of the heart break, but it continued for a few days so she began to believe it was the flu. However it continued for a lot longer than just a flu... she finally went to see a doctor and she is informed she is pregnant. Naturally she is in shock and keeps herself together until she gets back home and that is where she falls apart. She is pregnant with Toshi’s child and she has no idea where he is or how to inform him of this, and for all she knows, he may never be coming back. She does the only thing she can think of and reaches for her phone, there is only one friend that she knows will understand wholeheartedly and will know what to do and to help her through this. She dials up Kayama and has her come over. They sit on her bed and she has her head in Kayama’s lap, sobbing just as hard as she had been for the last couple of months, she tells her everything. Kayama stroking her hair comforts her, tells her they will figure it out, that she will not let her feel alone in this and that she will not have to raise the child alone, whether Toshinori returns or not, she is not going to let her best friend grieve over this any longer- Kayama is low key excited for a child to be around and she wants her friend, the mother of said child, to feel just as excited too. But first they have to do some investigating. Kayama leaves once her friend has been stabilized and has been talked out of ending the pregnancy, she goes straight to Gran Torino and she is determined to get some answers.

Gran Torino is just as much in shock that Toshi has fathered a child, but he will not give up the secret of his location. He does promise however to get word to Toshi of the recent news and tells Kayama that this child must be protected at all costs. If this child is gifted with One For All from Toshinori’s DNA, this child could save them all from AFO if All Might should fail. But they need a plan to protect the mother and child, she will need to go into hiding, no one can know that the soon to be number 1 hero has a child, at least not yet. Keeping this secret though was going to be a team effort, and there was only two others that Kayama knew she could trust with her life as well as this secret. She invited to Gran Torino’s was Shota and Hizashi. Kayama brought Toshi’s girlfriend and Gran Torino started to explain as much as he was free to. He confessed that Toshinori was in hiding to finish his training and he was going to come back and save everyone. But if he was to fail in that task, that his child would be destined to take his place, if the child goes undetected. So the group decided it was best to hide mother and child in plain sight. Hizashi agreed to act as the father for as long as necessary. If the child was born blonde, then Hizashi’s hair would be easy enough to explain away, and the mother also had blue eyes so they would say the baby got her eyes. And Hizashi would be at her side at every moment so everyone would have reason to believe that they were a couple and the child was reasonably his, not All Might’s. And whenever Hiazashi would be on patrol, Kayama and/or Shota would be there with her to keep her safe. They would be safe at all times.

Grab Torino kept his promise, he got word to Toshinori in America that his girlfriend he left behind was pregnant with his child. Toshi couldn’t believe this news, it was the best thing in the world to him but at the same time, he worried all the more for the safety of his love and now for his unborn child. He wanted to come back and be there for them and to protect them but Gran Torino convinced him he was not ready to return yet and that she was safe with the others, that if he returned that would only risk putting them in danger. It was in everyone’s best interest for Toshi to stay and finish his training and become the number one hero for the world. It broke Toshi’s heart all over again to stay away but he knew Gran Torino was right, he mustn’t come back without risking all of their lives. He hurt so much to know someone else would have to raise his child for now but he trusted in his friends and his high school sweetheart they were doing what was best and if he should fail in taking down AFO, then at least his child would be safe and raised and trained as a hero and succeed where he failed. He told Gran Torino that he would still accept all the responsibilities as the father, and begged him to tell his love that he was coming back for them no matter what.

Eventually the day came when Toshinori returned to Japan as All Might, making his debut saving hundreds of people from one disaster to the next, no villain didn’t quake in their boots at the sight of him. He was truly the number 1 hero he set out to be. But never did he stop looking for her, and occasionally he would catch glimpses of them, seeing her red hair glinting in the sunlight, arm in arm with Present Mic, and who must be his child, in Present Mic’s other arm, walking trough the park and smiling and enjoying each other’s company. Toshi stayed behind the crowd but close enough to hear his child squealing with delight when Present Mic shares his ice cream with the child and All Might’s heart just squeezes like he’s dying inside, but he is strangely happy about it. They are safe, they are happy and well cared for. As much as he wants to be the one on her arm and carrying his little, he knows it’s not safe for the truth to come out yet, but he prays that that day is not too far off. He could never thank Present Mic enough for sacrificing so much for his family, but he swore to himself he would make everything right one day. It was at that moment Toshinori locked eyes with the love of his life and everything inside her screamed for her to run to him but she knew better, their secret must still hold fast. At least now she knew he kept his promise and he came back for her, and he was near once again and she could sleep through the night again. Despite not being able to be with him for now, she raised her hand to rest on Hizashi’s shoulder, and with a content smile she offered back to Toshi, he saw she was wearing the ring he left for her on their last night together. And with that he smiled and knew that it was all going to work out in the end, some how, some way, but it would all be ok in the end.

[weasleydream]

Forever and a day

Hey guys Hope you’ll enjoy and as usual, likes, reblogs and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

(gif not mine)

The night was like the ones you only see in the middle of summer even though it was Christmas. The deep blue sky, almost dark and dotted with thousands of bright stars, was only lightened by the moon, a fantastic crescent illuminating the garden of the Burrow along with Fred and me. The only thing blurring periodically our sight was the cloud forming in front of our mouths when we breathed, except that, this was a magical vision. 

The Burrow, as each and every Christmas, was animated and full of joy and laughter. It was awesome, really, but Fred and I had needed a bit of time alone as we hadn’t had a lot of occasions since his departure from Hogwarts, a few months ago. We had escaped the loud cheers, preferring the peaceful silence of the night, accepting the biting cold as it gave us an excuse for cuddling, losing ourselves in the stars. 

A particularly violent shiver shook me, and Fred tightened his grip around my waist. 

“We can go back inside, if you want.” he said while rubbing my sides with energy. 

“No, I want to stay.”

I looked up again to the stars and noticed a few seconds later that Fred’s gaze hadn’t followed mine. 

“What? Do I have something on my nose?” 

“Except that adorable red colour, no, you have nothing.” 

“Yeah, that’s because I love Rudolf the rednosed reindeer.” I declared before chuckling when Fred frowned. 

“Is that another muggleborn reference?” he asked. “Dad never told me about this one.”

“I guess you know him as Patrick the red tailed niffler.” 

In front of Fred’s incomprehension and once my laughters had eventually calmed down, I explained who Rudolf the rednosed reindeer was. 

“And we wonder why muggles don’t believe in magic,” he mumbled. “If they present it like something that childish…”

I didn’t want to debate on the muggle’s capacity of imagining what magic could be - I knew it could turn into a heated argument - and decided to change the subject. 

“If nothing was hanging from my nose, then why were you eyeing me so intensely?”

Fred’s cheeks and ears, who were already red because of the freezing air, darkened and I smirked when he scratched the back of his neck, a recurrent gesture that never failed to show when he was nervous.

“That’s because, well, the moonlight… It makes you look, err- it makes you look cool, I mean- Stop laughing, I just wanted to compliment you!”

Indeed, I was laughing softly, melting on the inside because he was so cute when he was nervous… And Fred was almost never nervous. He was always so self confident, such an adorable and cocky boy, yet when he wanted to express his deepest feelings, he became a stuttering mess. And I loved this side of him, way more than the side that always wanted to dye my hair in green, that was for sure. 

“And you did well complimenting me, Freddie. The moonlight suits you too pretty well, love.”

And it truly was, from the freckles on his nose that contrasted with his pale skin to the sparkle in his eyes and including his hair that seemed softer than ever, everything of him which was usually awesome appeared just perfect under the moonlight. No kidding, my boyfriend was the best of all. 

Fred chuckled, mumbling something that sounded like “Your compliment was still better than mine” and pulled me closer to him. We were sitting on a bench, far enough from the house to be sure nothing - or no one, and especially not George or Ginny - would disturb us. We were still stargazing, both lost in thoughts deeper than the other could imagine, and not necessarily really happy. When a shooting star crossed the sky, that’s all naturally that my dearest wish crossed my mind, and fear flooded suddenly in my body. 

I hope we’re all gonna survive this war. 

I immediately felt the urge to be comforted by Fred, like every time I thought of the war inexorably approaching, and like every time, he tightened me a bit more and laid soft kisses on my hair. 

“It will be okay love. We’ll be okay.”

“How can you be so sure? Fred, it can happen so fast…”

“Y/N, listen to me.” His tone was firm but it was only to make me calm down, I knew it. “As long as I’ll be there, nothing will happen to you, I promise. And as long as you’ll be there, nothing will happen to me because I just cannot bear the thought of you being alone. Do you understand? I’ll be yours for forever, and you’ll be mine for forever. If you keep that in mind, then we’ll stay together.”

Our foreheads were now pressed against each other, and my hands were cupping his cheeks. Fred’s eyes were burning, a flame I had only seen a few times making them shine brighter than the sun. It was pure love. At the moment, I was so scared, so terrified and yet feeling so stupid for doubting of us that I reacted the only way I knew. 

“Forever? It isn’t long enough for me, love.”

“Then let’s say for forever and a day.”

“It doesn’t make that much of a difference, does it?”

“A lot can happen in a day.” he whispered before leaning in and pressing his lips against mine. 

And as the fire of our love was slowly consuming us, as the cold air seemed to disappear to be replaced by a warm atmosphere, I was so absorbed in the moment, so focused on his lips and his hands, that it never crossed my mind that Fred had expressed his deepest feelings without stuttering once. 

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Molly, you better tell these delinquents to stop their traffic!”

“That’s not traffic, dear aunt Muriel, that’s business.” said Fred with a smirk before tying an imaginary tie. 

Muriel grumbled and threw an imperious glance at Molly, who didn’t do anything but shrugging. 

“They don't listen to me, Muriel. I’m sorry.”

This dear old aunt Muriel had accepted to hide her family, the Weasleys being in danger now that everyone knew Ron was with Harry, and Fred had made a scene as he wanted me to hide with them. Muriel had firstly refused, pretending she wouldn’t have the energy to bear one more person. 

“Trust me, you’ll never survive with me if she doesn’t come with us.” He had muttered, after what Molly had ordered him to shut up for once and had pleaded my cause.

Muriel hadn’t had any other choice than accepting, and I suspected her to know Fred would have found a way to make me come here anyway. As a revenge, she had decided to be more insufferable than usual, which was an exploit according to George. 

“Shut up, it will begin!” suddenly exclaimed Bill, who was here with Fleur for one of the visits that were becoming more and more frequent as the weeks passed. 

Everyone gathered around the radio, Muriel complaining that she was busy writing a very important letter - Ginny confessed to me she had read a few sentences, and Muriel was in fact writing to one of the old blabbermouths she had for friends. After several hissing begging her to shut up, we all waited for Lee to begin his emission. We waited, but… Nothing.

“I don’t understand…” muttered Bill. “I thought-”

“Do you think it means something happened to him?” I asked, petrified at the thought that one of my best friends could be hurt because he had always kept bringing us hope. 

“No, he’s too smart to be caught.” assured George. 

But I caught the worried glance he exchanged with Fred. The silence seemed to last forever, and Bill eventually stopped trying.

“Maybe he just can’t right now,” he said. “I’ll keep trying to catch the signal, we’ll see.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Ginny’s voice was blank, and I turned to see that her face was pale. However, the flame of her determination was burning in her eyes. 

“Harry is at Hogwarts, and apparently the fight is for soon.”

Fuck. That was the first thing that came to my mind. As my brain was trying to process what Ginny had said and what it implied, Molly pressed her on with interrogations. 

“How do you know that? Ginny, is Ron with him? Is he safe? Ginny!”

Without a word, she handed her mother the false galleon I recognized easily. 

“Mum, we’ve got to go to Hogwarts.” said George. 

“How?” asked Molly with a quiet voice.

“The Hog’s Head. There’s a tunnel leading to the room of requirements.” replied Ginny. 

Molly sighed and murmured she had to warn the order. Fred and George got up in the same movement, and I immediately did the same. 

“Y/N, you stay here.”

For a second, I thought it was a joke. A particularly bad one, but a joke. However, I had never seen Fred being so serious. His jaw was clenched and he was frowning, and at the moment his eyes were darker than they had ever been. 

“I- what?” I asked in disbelief. 

Fred glanced at George before sighing. He grabbed my hand and half dragged me to the room we shared with his twin. He sighed once more and quickly passed a hand in his hair. 

“Y/N, I want you to stay here with aunt Muriel.”

“Are you crazy? I won’t stay on the sidelines, Fred. Don’t count on it.”

“Love, please, I just-”

“No!” I yelled. Fred winced. “There’s no way you’re going to fight without me!”

“Love, I just want you to be safe.” He grabbed my hand and lightly kissed my knuckles. “How long will be our forever if something happens to you?”

“Why do you keep thinking I’m the only one who could get hurt? Fred, I know how- how reckless you can be and… And I need to be with you, Fred, I need to be sure you won’t do anything stupid, you understand?”

“And if something happens to me? Y/N, if I die-”

“Don’t say that!” I squealed.

“If I die, who will keep you safe?”

Maybe Fred hadn’t heard me, all absorbed in his thoughts as he was, or maybe he felt the need to get this out of him. I would understand, I was feeling the exact same thing, I wanted to say out loud that maybe I would die too. This way, it would be real, totally real, and I could focus on something else. The way of keeping us alive, for example. But if something had to happen to Fred, if despite all my efforts, his fate was to leave me, then I knew what I would have to do. It was obvious.

“If you die,” I murmured, “then I’ll make sure our forever is still a thing.”

“Don’t say that. Y/N, please, don’t say such a thing. I- I forbid you to… Y/N, if I die- if I don’t make it out alive, promise me- promise me you’ll live. No matter what love, I need to know you’ll carry on.”

“Only if you promise the same.”

And that promise was sealed with the saddest kiss we had ever shared, our tears giving it a salty taste, our hands grabbing the other’s clothes in the same way you grip on the last thing that makes you alive. And it was true; at the moment, Fred was the only thing that helped me stay sane, and I had the firm conviction that our survival depended on each other. 

From the moment I had stepped in the room of requirements until the moment everything had gone black around me, from the moment Fred had made me swear to stay next to him until the moment I had lost him between two green flashes of light, from the moment I had stumbled upon Percy to the moment I had run into Fred’s arms, my own body had been controlled by the most primitive survival instinct. A rage I didn’t suspect had taken over me, making me kill enemy after enemy, without ever considering the fact that they were human. One the wrong side, maybe, despicable, for sure, but still human, with maybe children that were waiting for them at home. Not one second did I think of anything else than being enveloped in Fred’s arms after the end of the war, enjoying our victory hopefully without any loss and living our life like we deserved. But I had to get through this, I had promised him I would, and he had promised me too. 

I was unable to open my eyes, my body being entirely sore and my head seeming on the verge of the explosion. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move to get rid of this small pebble that was planting itself in my shoulder blade. The blood was rushing behind my ears, and the sound was not without recalling the sound of a river. It was somehow soothing. 

And slowly, or as it seemed for me as I didn’t have any way to measure time, the adrenaline in my veins disappeared, letting my heart beat less quickly and I could eventually hear what surrounded me. At first, it only sounded like a buzzing, and some noises gradually distinguished themselves. Steps near my head. Loud voices. Laughters. Cries. And after the hearing, it was my sight that came back to normal. 

The light surrounding me was forming a bright halo behind my closed eyelids. When my eyes were finally used to such a brightness, they flickered open. The very first thing I saw was a bunch of vaults above me, some of them half destructed and the sky being visible in some places. The second thing I saw was a glimpse of red hair. A smile immediately stretched my lips before disappearing. It was George, and something was wrong.

“George?” I asked quietly, my throat being so sore that this only world almost made me throw up. 

When George looked at me with puffy red eyes, my stomach twisted into a painful knot. It took a lot of energy for me to do something as simple as looking around me, but nowhere did I see the smile I needed. I wanted to ask him where Fred was, if everyone was okay, but I only managed to moan weakly. Much to my horror, tears flooded from George’s eyes and he pulled me against him without an ounce of delicacy. He just tightened me against his chest, clutching desperately on the back of my shirt, loud sobs shaking his shoulders. Without even knowing what had happened - or knowing it but refusing to believe it - I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him as tight as I could, feeling the tears rolling on my cheeks despite myself. 

George cried for a long time, and so did I without even being fixed on why we were such a wreck at the moment. When finally he stopped crying, he pushed me back just enough to look at me in the eyes without letting go of my shoulders. And when I looked into these eyes I knew so well and not only because they looked like Fred’s, when I saw the most heart wrenching desperation I could ever see, I slowly understood. And slowly, I felt the same desperation invading my eyes, and an excruciating pain taking over my body, because he had promised. He had promised nothing would happen to him. 

George grabbed my hand and without a word, he helped me get up.  My legs were too weak to support my own weight, let alone the weight of my pain, and I clung onto him like the lifeline that prevented me from drowning in my sorrow. We walked slowly, one step after the other, and it felt like we were struggling against a powerful courant. When they saw us, George’s siblings - I couldn’t recognize who -  stepped backward, none of them saying anything. Another step, and another. Arthur helped Molly get up, and she obliged in a painful sob. 

When she got up, I saw Fred’s body.

His clothes were torn and dirty. Blood covered the fabric and his skin. His eyes were closed, and he was still smiling. But he was dead. 

My knees gave up on me and I fell on the ground. I grabbed his hand desperately, his skin was as cold as ice and I didn’t recognize its touch, which used to bring me so much comfort because it was always so warm. And the tears were continuously rolling, blinding me whereas I wanted to memorize each detail of his face. Then the sobs arrived, all more painful than the precedent but still pleasant compared to the pain in my heart. George was crying next to me, an arm still around my shoulders, and we stayed like this for a long time. 

The night was falling on the castle, yet what remained from the Great Hall was still full of broken souls like George and I. People who weren’t ready to leave the last place they had seen their loved ones. George’s family had come back to the Burrow, preferring to mourn Fred in the intimacy of their house, but we weren’t ready yet. We were still sitting on the ground, in front of an empty place where Fred’s body had been laying before being carried away. 

We were staring blankly in front of us, George’s arm around my shoulder and my head resting on his, probably doing the same thing, namely recalling Fred. 

“I didn’t say I loved him…” My throat was sore after all the sobs that had shaken my body, yet I needed to say it, because the guilt and the regrets were suffocating me. 

“He knew it.” replied George, his voice as weak as mine and oh so broken. 

And I couldn’t know it, but George was remembering the last time Fred had rambled about me in front of him. “You have no idea on how much I love her, Georgie.” he had said with a goofy smile. “I would do anything for her… She’s the love of my life, I know it. You know what? When all of this is over, I’ll marry her.” 

“He knew it and he loved you too, Y/N.”

“And he loved you too. He was so proud of you, George.”

And we burst into tears, hugging each other with the same strength we wanted to hug Fred with, with the desperation we shared of having lost one of the most important persons in our lives. 

We cried because Fred was dead and at the moment, it felt like we would always cry because this loss was too much for us to bear. 

“I’ll be yours for forever, and you’ll be mine for forever. If you keep that in mind, then we’ll stay together.”

“Forever? It isn’t long enough for me, love.”

“Then let’s say for forever and a day.”

“It doesn’t make that much of a difference, does it?”

I was so stupid, because now, I would give anything for just one more day with you.

One day to say I love you. 

One day to live the forever we deserved. 

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg thanks for the appreciation! TnT

Heads Up- Part 14 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Is that necessary?" Suzi complained, as Joseph placed a motion sensor on the table next to Caesar. "And where did you get that, even?"

Joseph grinned his characteristic smirk. "It's to keep the neighborhood kids from messing with my bike. I have to leave it outside cause I don't have a garage..."

"You sure are prepared for everything, Jojo!" she giggled.

Joseph always had the knack for expecting the unexpected, ever since they were kids. Perhaps that could partly explain why Joseph got used to having a talking art project so quickly. How he made it look so normal.

"Okay, Caesar. We're gonna have to get you to not move, not one twitch!" Joseph instructed him. "If you move even the slightest bit, this alarm goes off."

Caesar blinked, and the sensor immediately began to beep.

"Sorry bout that," Caesar apologized.

"You don't need to blink, don't you?" Joseph asked as he reset the sensor.

"It's a force of habit!" Caesar said defensively. "I know I don't even have any tear ducts but it's a reflex! Maybe Anthonio used to blink!"

"Of course he did, he was human," Suzi said.

It struck Joseph as odd that Caesar referred to Anthonio as someone else.

Did he not consider himself Anthonio? Or at least, not anymore? Suzi did, after all, say Caesar was less of a ghost, and more of a reincarnation. Maybe he'd found a new identity.

Maybe he'd found a new purpose.

The entire situation intrigued Joseph. "Say, Suzi, about those Mesoamerican lore of yours..." he asked, "How exactly do those 'spirit guardians' work?"

Suzi laughed. "You're really curious about all this, aren't you?"

Joseph shrugged. "I suppose."

"Hmm. Well, it says here in these old texts, that most spirit guardians were ancestors that returned to the mortal plane, when summoned by those in need, to act as a guardian angel of sorts."

"Heh! Guardian angel you say?" scoffed Caesar. "I'm just a goddamn head."

Suzi shot him an annoyed look and continued on. "Anyway, it's said that these new beings were usually a 'predescessor' of some way. Not necessarily by blood, per se, but by legacy-- say, a warrior could summon a spirit of a warrior before them, or a scientist that of an old philosopher..."

"...and I suppose Anthonio was a sculptor who sought to carry on his legacy in you."

"Then why don't I remember being Anthonio, then?" Caesar retorted.

"Because, Caesar," Suzi said, "the wisdom of the past is tainted with the memories, the identities of those who experience them. I can never be too sure, of course," she shrugged, "but I feel it's made that way to pass on their wisdom to a new worthy successor to their legacy-- yet from a whole new perspective unclouded by their own beliefs. So that Joseph's art would be inspired by Anthonio's, but still be Joseph's own."

Joseph laughed at the irony. "Like how I copied...er, based, Caesar's face off on the statue Anthonio made...which he'd actually based on his own face."

Destiny sometimes did strange twists to absurd results.

"Alright, let's do this one more time!" Joseph said, replacing the motion sensor.

--------

Day by day Caesar practiced standing still. Trying to look like a perfectly ordinary, non-living sculpture. Trying not to blink, or move reflexively, just staring vacantly into nothingness like the lifeless figure he originally was.

It helped that Caesar's eyes never felt dry, even without blinking, they were clay, after all. It didn't hurt, or feel very uncomfortable, but it did make him nervous.

But he fought said feelings, because he knew it was all for Joseph.

He was doing it for the person he loved the most. After all the things Joseph had done to make his life a happy one, this was the best way for Caesar to pay him back.

By serving his original purpose as Joseph's grand masterpiece.

And it was enough to motivate him to try his damned hardest.

"And that's eight hours!" Joseph exclaimed, checking his stopwatch. Caesar had managed to keep still without triggering the beeping of the motion sensor for a record period of time.

"You can relax now, Caesar. Eight hours is all we need."

Caesar blinked and sighed.

"See, you could do it!" Joseph encouraged. "Eight hours each day for two days. Enough for the gallery to hold you on exhibit, and have the judges grade you. And then, hopefully, I graduate and get to have you back."

"You promise?" Caesar asked, in almost a pleading tone.

"I'll try my hardest to get you back," Joseph told him, his mind lingering on the faint possibility that Caesar might be selected for permanent display.

Joseph used to want to make a sculpture so exquisitely defined that it would be put up there in the gallery, alongside those of the greatest artists, forever. How strange that he now wanted the opposite.

He'd made Caesar far too beautiful, and because of this he risked losing him.

"Say, about that thing you said earlier?" Suzi told Joseph. "You based him off an old sculpture by Anthonio, didn't you?"

"I mean, it wasn't a painted statue, so I doubt they'd see the similarities with Caesar all colored and all." Joseph added with his usual mischievous grin.

"Still, he does look a little plain," Suzi pondered, as she looked at the bust from different angles. "We ought to spice him up a little!"

"Oh great," Caesar complained. "More dress-ups."

Suzi pulled out a handful of ribbons, scarves and other accessories and began trying out a bunch of styles to make Caesar look more striking-- and hopefully disguise him from anyone who would suspect Joseph stole the design.

A bowler hat, necktie and a monocle. "This is stupid," Caesar grumbled.

A masquerade feather headdress and a colorful bead necklace. "Hell no," complained Caesar again.

A magenta beanie hat, heart sunglasses and a short shawl. "Are you kidding me?" Caesar cried irately.

But there was one set of gear that made an impact on Caesar, when Suzi put them on.

A headband, designed with a zigzagged line between orange and violet, with a pair of prominent white feathers on each of the temples, and a soft, pink scarf to complete the look.

Caesar opened his mouth to complain, and quickly shut it again as soon as he saw his reflection.

He...actually kind of liked this one.

"Say, that actually suits you well," Joseph said.

"I think so too," Caesar smiled, pivoting slightly on his neck base to see his reflection from another angle.

"So it's settled then?" Joseph asked. "You'll be wearing that to the exhibit?"

"Sure," Caesar agreed. "Anything that won't make you look like a ripoff."

Joseph smiled. He admired Caesar's getup: with the scarf and the headband, he looked positively divine. He looked lovelier than he'd ever had.

He knew that the judges would absolutely like him.

He just hoped they wouldn't like him enough to take him away.

-------

It wasn't long before the day of the exhibit, of Joseph's graduation, was close at hand.

Sleep came little to the troubled artist, as he lay on his bed, his eyes blankly fixed onto the ceiling. The room's only light came from a harsh, white table lamp.

It was three days, before he had to prove himself to the world.

To his mother, Professor Lisa, that he was worthy of her respect.

And to the legacy of his late grandfather, Jonathan, who had been his inspiration, as a child, to become an artist in the first place.

Joseph imagined his grandfather watching him from the stars, invisible but ever present. If only he could see him now. If only he could tell what he'd have thought of him.

His mind drifted back to Suzi's quote, about the spirit guardians being the souls of those who came before. To pass on their legacy.

He couldn't help but imagine. What if Grandpa Jonathan himself had possessed his project bust? He giggled at the thought of his beloved grandpa as a talking, bouncing clay sculpture.

But yet fate seemed to have chose Anthonio Zeppeli to be his guide.

There must have been something special about him that he needed to pass on.

Or maybe, it was just Anthonio himself being perfect for him. Strange that they had to meet in such an improbable way.

He was different now, reborn as another person entirely. Another person that Joseph adored the way he was. Body or no body.

Thinking about Caesar made Joseph's heart thump hard within his chest. Why did he feel this way? To a figure he created? Was it weird? Was it wrong?

And yet as he listened to the steady drum of his own heartbeat, he decided that no, it seemed like nothing felt more right. Caesar was his.

It was then Joseph realized that the steady thumps were getting louder. He first feared there was, perhaps, something wrong with his cardiac rhythm. But then he felt there was another source, that seemed to be coming from outside.

And as Joseph turned his head to look, right on cue, Caesar came bouncing into his room.

In the dim light, Joseph marveled at his bizarre, surreal beauty as he hopped across the floor, still clad in the headband and the scarf that he'd come to enjoy wearing.

Somehow, as ridiculous, slow and clumsy as his only mode of transportation was, Caesar looked oddly majestic.

The vigor and strength with which he pushed his neck against the floor with each hop. The gracefulness as his head turned upward at the highest point of each jump, his headband's feathers fluttering almost like tiny wings. The way his torso stump flexed as it barely cleared the floor with each little forward bounce. And of course, the sheer look of focused determination displayed on Caesar's face as he made his way toward the bed.

He was scarcely even half a man, but his spirit had the strength of many.

To even move his clay form along the distance from kitchen to bedroom took considerable effort, without the aid of arms and legs. And yet Caesar made it work. Caesar made the impossible possible. In spite of his tremendous handicap, he learned to persevere, to overcome.

And maybe Joseph realized why he admired Caesar so much.

Not just with his gorgeous, colorful clay exterior, but with the soul within, burning so bright with passion and determination, despite all odds that barred his way.

Perhaps this was why they were fated to meet.

"Jojo, you awake?" Caesar said, snapping Joseph out of his admiring stupor.

"Huh, yeah, I am now," Joseph mumbled. "What's the matter?"

Caesar looked downward, sadly. "I just feel lonely."

"And next you'll say, 'Can I sleep on your bed tonight, Jojo?' huh?" Joseph smirked.

"Can I sleep on your bed tonight, Jo--" Caesar began to say, before realizing it. "Huh? How did you know--?"

Joseph laughed warmly. "You don't even need to say it, Cae. You're always welcome with me. Anytime."

Gently, he lifted the bust up from the floor. By now, his heavy weight now felt familiar and no longer burdensome. He gently laid Caesar onto the pillow next to him, and, removing his scarf and headband and placing them onto his bedside table, lovingly laid a blanket over Caesar's stubby torso.

With his body, or lack thereof, covered by a quilt, Caesar looked less like a sculpture and more like Joseph's very own, perfectly typical roommate.

Joseph laid back down onto the bed, gently embracing what little body Caesar had, warmly and tenderly underneath the covers.

"Goodnight, Caesar," he said, resting his head against Caesar's soft, warm clay body.

"Goodnight too, Jojo," he responded, as he closed his eyes for the night.

Artist and artwork fondly embraced, within the dimly lit room without anyone else to witness. Suzi was at her home today. It was just him and Caesar, together alone, gently feeling each other's gentle warmth in a fleeting yet sincere moment, as rest soon enveloped their tired minds.

A fleeting yet sincere moment that Joseph wasn't sure he'd get to have again.

--------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[thekeigospichula]

Cw// homophobia/ anxiety/ miscommunication/ domestic violence

"Stupid"

"Sorry Kacchan"

"Idiot"

"I know"

"Shitty dumbass"

"I know"

"Fucking s-stupid"

"Kacchan..."

They were sixteen and in love, hidden in the blond's bedroom. Katsuki took care of Izuku's bruises. A purple eye, lower lip broken, cheek open and bruises in arms, torso and legs. Crimson eyes watering at the sight of his love in pain, his best friend, his partner; he couldn't do anything, he never could do something to save him.

"I told you" Katsuki whispered "I fucking told you to stop, I don't care what he say about me"

"But I care" said the shorter boy caressing the wet cheek "I don't gonna allow anybody to talk bad about you"

"The fucking asshole is three heads taller than you Deku!" Katsuki said standing up with the first aid towards his bathroom, Izuku slowly stood and followed him.

"I don't care Kacchan, it's fine" Midoriya leaned against the frame door and looked at his boyfriend putting the first aid aid in its place "And this time he didn't break any bone! I think that I'm becoming stronger" the green eyed joked only to get a whimper. Bakugo turned glaring at his boyfriend with tears in his eyes and an upset sight .

"Don't dare to joke about that, fucking stupid, that wasn't funny" he walked towards him, graping his arm and sliding the sleeve to reveal all the scars and bruises "This isn't funny, that mother fucker was so close to fucking kill you, and you joke about it? Fucking kidding me" he let go the arm and walked to his room taking the dirty clothes of his boyfriend to wash the blood and the dirt.

"Sorry Kacchan" Midoriya walked towards his boyfriend stopping an inch before to touch him "I didn't know what to say or do to makes you feel better"

"You know what to do" answered the blond wiping his tears and turning to see him "I told you, my mom told you, my dad told you" he stopped glaring at the open eye "But you decide stay there, and I'm tired of this" Katsuki turned again walking towards the washing room. Izuku still there, shocked, *what that means?* Without caring anymore of the pain and his injuries, he ran following the blond and falling on the last stair over his right arm with a noisy pom. A whimper out of his lips, he could swear that saw stars.

"Deku!" Katsuki threw everything on the floor after listening to the noise and ran towards the sound, finding his injured boyfriend —that should be lying in bed— on the floor and whimpering. He kneeled trying to move him.

"AAAHHH" Midoriya felt passing out the second that Bakugo put a hand on his shoulder, but he needed to know what Kacchan meant about being tired. He tried to stand by himself.

"Stop moving, you're going to hurt yourself Deku!" Fuck fuck and more fuck. He shoved his phone from his pocket to call an ambulance, but a scarred hand stopped him "What the hell! I need to call a fucking ambulance!"

"What did you mean?" The green eyes said with tears in his eyes.

"What?"

"You're tired, what did you mean?" Midoriya shifted, sitting on the floor holding his arm.

"Hey!, Stop, I'm calling an ambulance!" Midoriya sigh and let his twisted arm hanging from his place "Fucking shit, we need the ambulance NOW" Izuku took the blond's cellphone putting it on the floor "For fucking god, what are you doing?" Katsuki tried to reach his phone, but his boyfriend put it under his leg.

"It's fine Kacchan, this isn't broken, I just need to put it in his place again, I don't need an ambulance" tears were wetting his cheeks "When you said tha-at... That you are tired, that means that you are tired..." his voice broke "You're tired of me" he said in a sob.

"Oh no, no no no no, Izuku, fuck no" Katsuki didn't know what to see, the good eye or the twisted arm "We need to treat your arm first" Midoriya breath deeper and took his arm in a strong grip, making wide the eyes of his partner "Don't do it, let's go whit a doc-"

CRACK

Midoriya drowned a whimper, putting his arm on his place again.

"For fucking sake Izuku" Katsuki covered his eyes whit his hands.

"You are tired of me" declared the green eyed "And I I-I know is my fault, I'm weak and useless, and stupid, and-" Bakugo hugged him caressing the green curls.

"I'm not tired of you" whispered in the freckled ear "Okay, I'm always tired of you, but not in that way moron" he sighed feeling his shirt getting wet "I'm tired of this situation"

"Sorry"

"It's not your fault" the crimson eyed said "Never was your fault and sorry for accused you, okay?, anything of this is your fucking fault, listened me?"

"I can't protect me own mom Kacchan" Bakugo closed his eyes feeling a knot in his throat "I'd like to live whit you and your parents, they're incredible, but I can't let my mom whit him Kacchan, I I-I can't show him that he has power over me" the freckled sobbed "If I don't defend my beloveds, he's going to hurt them, hurt you, at least, if I-I fight, he k-nows that if he touch you, or my m-om again, he won't get what he wants from me" Midoriya gripped his embrace on Katsuki "I'm scared Kacchan" whispered, tears already in Bakugo's eyes "I'm always scared Kacchan, he scared me so fucking much"

"I'm sorry babe" Katsuki caressed his boyfriend's curls whereas Midoriya cried in his arms "I'm so sorry babe" he kissed the green head "I'm here" Katsuki carried Izuku in bride style towards his room, lying him carefully on his bed and cuddling him.

"I tried Kacchan, I don't ignored you" Midoriya whispered whit sore voice "I tried to talk with her, but she doesn't wanna come with me" the green eyed carefully buried his face in his boyfriend's chest "She said that I gotta go alone, but she will stay because God won't see good-" he broke in a sob, Katsuki held him tighter kissing his head "She said that she needs to stay with him because she did a promise when she married him"

" 'til death fucking separate us"

"Yes" whispered Izuku "A-and..." He didn't say nothing, just curled hiding his face on his hands"

"What else babe?" Bakugo held his hands, kissing his knuckles after seeing the green puffy eyes to encourage him.

"She said that she loves me" his eyes filled of tears "And she needs to do merits" Izuku breathed deeper and continued "Because she made me gay" Katsuki held him tighter, letting his boyfriend cry harder, hiding his freckled face in his chest "She wants to do me-erits to God, so he will let us come to heaven, ev-en if I'm gay. Kacch-an my mom doesn't want to listen me any-more, she just sa-y that I should go whit you, that I'll be sa-ve whit you, but I know if I let her there al-one, he is going to hurt her, fuck" Katsuki didn't know what to say, he didn't say anything about this before, how many time he keep that in his mind?.

"Izuku, baby," Katsuki called him. "I'm going to talk with my mom and she will make reason your mom, she always does that, okay?" The blond said caressing his boyfriend's back "And she'll come here and we could demand that asshole" Bakugo separated a little of his boyfriend and kissed his forehead "I'm gonna protect you, you're stucked whit me, that means that you are mine and I'm yours, your problems are mine and I'll kick the fucking necessary asses to make you feel save, fine? I'll never leave you alone, I promise you"

"Kacchan, I'll always protect you too" Midoriya said with a wobbly voice "I'll be there for you always, I promise you" Bakugo glared at his boyfriend and turned back to Midoriya. He opened the drawer toward the bed, shoving a green box and facing Midoriya who looked him confused.

"This" he sit in the mattress, and looking directly green eyes opened the box, showing a couple of handmade bracelet one green and other red whit a little jewelry in the middle; the green had a red jewel and the red a green one, Midoriya looked at his boyfriend and the bracelets whit even more tears than before "This was supposed to be a b-day gift, but fuck that, I'll give you another shit" the blond took the green one whit the red jewel "This is yours, I last one fucking month making them, if you lose it I'm going to kick your reckless ass" Bakugo tied the bracelet in the right wrist carefully "Midoriya Izuku" Katsuki said in a serious tone making the green eyed look at him "I-I... Love you" he said flustered and whit red cheeks "This is my promise for you, I'll be there for you always, I'll protect you and I'll love you for the rest of my life" they were holding hands, green against red, the blond completely blushed but determined, and the freckled whit wobbling lips and teary eyes kissed the blond's lips being correspondence they kissed gentle for a couple of seconds, then Midoriya took the crimson eyed right wrist and tied the red bracelet.

"Kacc- no, Bakugo Katsuki, T-his is m-my promise for you" Midoriya wiped his tears with his forearm and started to speak again "I'll love you the rest of my life, I'll protect you and make you feel loved a-and I'll be there for you" The blond caressed the freckled cheek and kissed the pink lips, tasting the salat and blood on them. That was a soft kiss, a gentle kiss, they were saying "I love you" without any rush and with all the time of the world, and that was fine, they were just sixteen, promising things that didn't even know if they could keep, but that was fine too, they're young and in love, and the rest didn't care, no when they were holding each other hands and trying to protect each other hearts.

Fin.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Alone

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How To Get Away With Murder) ft. The Keating 5

Warnings: Abuse, Abusive Relationship, Swearing, Trauma, Description of Injury

Genre: ANGST, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship

Summary: While working on a particularly tough case in the ungodly hours of the night, whether it’s due to the lack of sleep or the sudden need to confide in another human being, Michaela admits some truths to the person no one would think she’d ever do so to - her rival Connor Walsh.

Requested by Anon and requested as a birthday present by another Anon. Happy birthday darling Anon! Thank you so much for giving me the honor of writing you a birthday present though I hope the short notice doesn’t affect the fic’s quality. I accept the most brutal of feedback, but nevertheless I hope you enjoy it! Enjoy your special day! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“You know, just because you’re still awake and staring at a document doesn’t mean you have an upper hand here. Whether you’re actually reading that file is what will determine who gets the trophy, Miss Shooting Star.“ Connor Walsh waltzes into the living room turned office of the Keating home, looking and sounding a little too refreshed for someone who has had the same amount of sleep as everyone else of the K5 - minimal. Yet, unlike his teammates, he’s still perfectly functioning, talkative and looking forward to being productive without accidentally falling off a chair after being consumed by the slumber his body is probably dying for. It probably has something to do with that cup of coffee in his hand - his tenth one today, if Michaela’s counted correctly.

“Call me that again and I’ll shoot the damn trophy at your forehead.“ Michaela hisses back at him, tired, stinging and bloodshot eyes never leaving the piece of paper she’s been holding, reading and re-reading for the past twenty minutes, never really managing to grasp the words written on it.

“Good luck taking it from Asher. The Douche has fallen asleep with it in his arms.“ Connor sinks down in one of the armchairs, leisurely picking up one of the files laid out on the coffee table, looking at it with little interest.

This time Michaela’s gaze does indeed leave the paper so it can land on her rival, as she raises an eyebrow that somewhere between shocked and offended, “That asshole’s asleep?”

“He’s not the only one.“ It’s Connor’s turn to not spare her a look while answering, “Him and Wes are as good as dead on the kitchen island. Laurel and Frank are most likely awake, but also most likely not working on the case. Well, not this case, that’s for sure.“ He chuckles at his own joke, seeing as how his correspondent found no humor in it, “So, it’s down to you and me and Bonnie if she throws us a bone, which I doubt she will.“

Annalise was very clear with what she had said. Speaking the whole truth here, the five college students weren’t really paying attention until they heard that very strictly spoken phrase: “No one leaves here until someone finds something. Anything” aka the last phrase their professor had graced them with before walking out to go meet someone important for the night. She had every right to be strict and maybe even a bit cruel to them after they all had been exhibiting typical brat behavior throughout the day. To make matters worse and the job even tougher, Annalise had instructed Frank and Bonnie to go home so the kids would really be left to their own devices. Bonnie had had enough so no amount of begging her was gonna get her to stay - it’s also been proven that no amount of voicemails are gonna get her to come back either - but Frank, solely because of Laurel, stuck around and has so far not proved to be any kind of extra help - the polar opposite, in fact, he’s been distracting them all with jokes and snide comments at how incompetent they all are. Now if that wasn’t the most hypocritical thing.

“If the pressure wasn’t on already, I’d like to remind you we have...“ Connor turns his hand over, checking his wristwatch, “less than four hours until we have to show our not-showered, sleep deprived asses in court.“

Michaela groans, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. Not that she’d ever admit it, but she was actually glad to have an overnight task, something that wouldn’t allow her to go home, but this is beginning to be too much. What others would call ‘home’ Michaela refers to as or ‘hell’. It was place she called ‘home’ at one point too, but it wasn’t long before things started going south. And by ‘south’ I mean horribly wrong and toxic. The man she thought she’d one day call fiancée and then husband has now become a monster from her worst nightmares. Having grown up in an abusive household, Michaela had always dreamed of finding a place for herself, a place she’d feel safe in. With a person who’d love her unconditionally and provide her the security she lacked growing up. And that’s what she thought she saw in Miles. She wasn’t wrong for the first few months, the fucker was good at putting up a front, putting on a show for everyone to build a positive opinion of such a disgusting human being.

The mask started falling apart shortly after Michaela moved in with him. She didn’t accept his offer without any thought, quite the contrary actually - she pondered it for a week and a half, her heart taking the win in the end. Well, her heart may have won that time but it is now in pieces. Her eyes have never cried so many tears and her skin has never bled nor been bruised so badly before. She feels broken, alone, betrayed, hurt. She feels all she felt every time she got hit as a kid. She feels like the whole world has equipped knives and guns, each with her name on them, ready to put her through torture.

And she’s got no one to tell, because no one will know what to say back. For some reason, when people are speechless they tend to say the dumbest, most hurtful crap without realizing. Hearing that on numerous occasions before, she knows what effect it’ll have on her, so she strays away from speaking up about it. She’d rather be alone and battle her demons than present those demons to someone else who will introduce new ones into her head and life.

She prefers solitude and isolation over additional torment. It’s always been an easy pick for her.

“If you don’t wanna fight this battle on your own, go fetch me a cup of coffee.“ She instructs, half-expecting the turn-down she receives immediately afterwards.

“You really think I’m gonna help you when you are the closest thing to competition I have in this group of dimwits? Go get it yourself.“ 

Michaela rolls her eyes, wondering why she even asked such an abomination of a question in the first place. Finding her legs too dead to take her anywhere, she remains in her spot with a heavy sigh, returning to her attempt at reading the file she and the rest of the Keating 5 five have read through a dozen times today just to find nothing off about it.

“Hey, this one’s marked twenty-three, that one on the table’s twenty-five, where’s the twenty-fourth one?“ Connor suddenly perks up suddenly, cutting the short silence that had fallen upon them. With the least amount of energy she’s managed to save up, Michaela waves the file she’s holding, blinking away the blurriness of that clouds her eyes. “Give it to me, I need to make some comparisons.”

“Come get it yourself.“ She barks back with the same amount of spite he used barely a minute ago.

Unlike her though, Connor complies, finding that file necessary for some reason despite knowing it’s useless. It’s all pointless and they’re all gonna hear it from Annalise tomorrow morning regardless. But the most they can do is keep trying - trying to prove themselves worthy of that trophy.

Getting up with the most exaggerated distaste in his movements, Connor crosses the distance between the armchair he’s been sitting in and the couch Michaela has not moved from for hours, surrounded by piles of paperwork, folders and files. Much to his surprise, she doesn’t even put up a fight, clearly having been fed up with staring at the same words and not grasping anything for half an hour at this point. 

“Thank y-“ Connor is a syllable away from finishing his sarcastic statement of gratitude when his eyes land on something peculiar, he’d even call is quite worrisome - a large scar going from Michaela’s elbow to about midway down her forearm. It looks to be recent, given that there are still some dried specs of blood around it, “Holy shit....“ He mutters, carefully taking hold Michaela’s wrist as to gently turn her arm a bit more to the side in order to examine the cut, “What the hell happened to you?“

Not having realized what he was examining before, Michaela’s eyes widen when they follow his gaze and land on the very cut she spent an hour taking care of last night. That cut is the aftermath of a drunk boyfriend who wanted nothing more than a reason to start an argument with her when she got home. A reason to hurt her. Coming into work this morning, despite the high temperatures, she was stubbornly keeping a long sleeved jacket atop her shirt to keep the ugly remainder of yet another failure hidden. The relationship in and of itself is a toxic failure, but it’s built of other failures Mihaela blames herself for - she believes she fails every time he hurts her. She thinks she’s the one to blame for the failure because she couldn’t protect herself. So she feels ashamed, disgusted and is attacked by that sense of betrayal all over again.

Feeling these three emotions flooding in at the sound of Connor’s concern, she snatches her arm out of his grip, keeping the scar out of his viewpoint while her eyes scan the room, looking for the jacket she doesn’t remember discarding. “Piss off, Connor. It’s non of your business.”

If she had said something along the lines of it being an accidental injury, Connor might’ve even believed her and let the whole thing go. However, seeing hw distressed his question has made her become, he feels there’s a lot more to it than she’s letting on. So, fully aware it’s non of his business, he keeps prodding on for a reason even he himself doesn’t understand, “Maybe not, but that’s a concerning scar, you might wanna get it checked. In fact, it already looks like it’s infected with something.”

Michaela’s brows furrow, her distress growing into genuine fear as she removes the hand that’s partially covering the scar to check on it and try and see what Connor saw to lead him to make such an observation. Connor takes this opportunity to also get a better look at the cut and it doesn’t take him a while to realize what tool was used in causing it - a shard of glass. 

“Michaela, it may not be my business...“

She cuts him off with hostility, “It’s not”, but her words are choked up and wavering. Her voice is shaking like she’s seconds away from bursting into tears. And Lord knows crying in front of Connor Walsh is the last thing she wants to do.

“Right, but you can’t tell me that’s an accidental cut. That looks very intentional, very straight, and very much like someone inflicted it on you.“ Seeing her barriers slowly starting to sink despite her best attempts at keeping them up, he keeps his pursuit of his secret, for the first time genuinely curious to get to the bottom of what’s troubling Michaela and not a single ulterior motive in his mind. “You can’t tell me that I’m wrong. I’ve had my fair share of glass shard injuries in my life too.“ The girl’s gaze remains glued to the floor but Connor doesn’t miss the tear that escapes her left eye, sliding down her cheek. This only strengthens his will to getting the truth out of Michaela. “I know I’m not among your favorite people, but I’m not a piece of scum, damn it. You can tell me, Michaela. Believe it or not, you can tell me.“

Silence takes over, loud silence, the one on her end filled with the inaudible sound of her walls coming down quickly. She’s left bare and exposed. surrounded by their rubble and unable to look her rival in the eye. Though, is he much of a rival at this moment? He appears dangerously close to a friend. Hell, Michaela would even make a snide remark about it if her insides weren’t so broken - her heart, her soul, her mind, they’ve all been shattered, bruised and bloodied way worse than her skin.

“Turn around.“ She says out of the blue, the order sounding more like a plea especially when accompanied by another tear freeing itself from the confinement of her pride. When Connor doesn’t move, she finally looks up at him to meet his baffled gaze, “Turn around so I don’t have to see the pity in your eyes when I tell you I’m a pathetic victim of an abusive relationship. The punching bag of an asshole with a short fuse and a drinking problem. A failure to myself and my family. Is that what you wanted to hear? Do you think you have the upper hand now?“ Behind the tears that are spilling freely now is the mix of rage, devastation, dread and sorrow. It’s a dangerous combination that could cause her to pounce at him any second, push him away, take her anger out on him.

But that’s what he wants her to do.

He wants her to let it all out, free herself from all that’s been sitting on her chest. He wants to free her from whoever’s responsible for that scar on her arm and those thousands of little cuts on her soul, all still openly bleeding and unable to heal. He wants to save her. And it’s scaring him. He wants to write it off as basic human decency but deep down he know there’s something more. As much as the both of them would like to deny it, if one of them left the Keating 5 tomorrow, the other would miss them greatly. Threats, accusations, arguments and bickering aside, they are aware how great of a team they are. What a good pair of friends they could be if they just let their pride slip aside. But they don’t, and maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe that’s why they work so well.

However, even with that theory in mind, they’ve both let their pride go in this very moment. Walls and barriers have come down, lines have been crossed and they see each other differently now - More as fellow hurting humans rather than rivaling lawyers-to-be. Closer than ever, that’s for sure.

“Listen, Michaela...“

She once again cuts him off, “I don’t want your pity, sympathy or your advice. I don’t need you telling me to leave him! You think I haven’t thought of that?! You know nothing about it, you don’t get to judge me on my actions and choices!” She’s sobbing at this point with no hopes or ways of stopping the strangled noises from leaving her throat or the tears from escaping her red eyes.

Connor quickly crouches down in front of the couch so he’s at eye-level with  her, his hands taking gentle but firm hold of her shoulders, “Michaela, no! That’s not what I wanna say! Listen to me, damn it.“ To his surprise, this actually gets her to calm down and stop thrashing to get his hands off. Slightly relieved, he pursues what he started, “I know, I know exactly how it is. Every time he does something nice it outweighs the bad. It’s those good moments that make you stay, I know. But those moments are the rare rainbow after a ton of rain. They are not worth this pain and suffering you’re enduring. He’s not worth it. You deserve so much more, so much better and you are aware of that!“

“But no one else is!“ She snaps, her hands coming up to hide her face, “No one else sees my worth beyond the job I do or the person that’s willing to put a ring on my finger. No one sees me for me, Connor! My value is determined by what kind of men find me decent enough for their beds or family contracts! What kind of response do you think I’ll have if I leave yet another relationship?“

Her words break his heart but he doesn’t let it show in his eyes, he’d rather close them than let her see that pity she fears and despises. He doesn’t pity her, far from it, but a simple misunderstanding on her end could break this already fragile bond they’ve built so he keeps his feelings at bay.

“Fuck them! Michaela, you are an adult woman, they can’t control your life anymore! No one can! That’s why you need to cut ties with those whose opinions you fear most. I don’t know what kind of stick they have up their asses, but without them you won’t be alone. You’ll be free!“

“And you’ll still have us.“ The sudden and new female voice comes from behind them, right by the doorway.

Both of them turn to look in that direction to find the four missing members of this late case-digging session: the sleepy Asher and Wes with Frank and Laurel beside them.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but Michaela, you will not be alone, no matter what the context is. We might not be the best friends one can ever have, but we sure as hell aren’t monsters.“ Laurel continues, being the only one to actually take a step in the room while the three men stay put, uncertain of how to approach the situation. “I think we all care about each other to some degree. So, I want you to know, we care about you and we’re here for you. No matter how many times you leave us in the dust with your eyes on the prize.“

That remark manages to get a smile out Michaela even with the tears that are still not done rolling down her cheeks. Asher is also quick to pipe in, “I second that! Anything you need, we’ll be here. Need us to bust someone’s skulls - we’re your people.”

Scoffing, Connor shoots Michaela a look, “Now that’s an idea. Give us the address of that shithead and consider it done.”

She rolls her eyes, “Let me get my stuff out of there first. I don’t want you getting blood on any of it.”

Connor stands up from his crouched position and turns to the rest of the team with a determined look and a hint of a smile on his face, “You heard her folks! The lady wants to collect her stuff, and I’ll be damned if I let her do it alone.” He turns back to his temporarily-not-rival, “Come on, you can crash at my place until this friendly phase of ours fades. Then I’m dumping you at Laurel’s.”

She narrows his eyes at him, “Hilarious.” Suddenly her eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up, “Wait, what about the case?”

“Laurel and I found something, already turned it in. We were coming here to send you guys home.“ Frank replies in his usual reassuring manner.

“Ooooh, so you were working on the case after all!“ Asher comments, wiggling his eyebrows at them.

“Yeah, we were. Unlike some who were asleep in the kitchen cuddling a trophy.“ Laurel retorts, sending him the most sarcastic of smiles. 

This whole interaction between her...well, her friends has lifted Michela’s spirits enough to get her up on her feet, “In that case, better get prepared to help me pack three large suitcases.”

And with that the Keating 5 (plus Frank) disembark, heading to their new mission. Walking out of the Keating household with four people, all unconditionally supporting her without even knowing what’s going on and one person with his arm tightly wrapped around her in a protective manner, Michaela has never felt more safe and secure. She might not love these people and they might not love her either, but they are all fond of each other. And if their fondness has reached the degree where they’re willing to accompany her and aid her escape from the hell she’s been trapped in this past month and a half, she’s willing to call them friends.

Some closer than others, but she cannot admit that knowing that in a week’s time her and Connor will probably be at each other’s throats again. And she’s fine with that. Rivalry’s a type of friendship too, ain’t it?

[aros001]

First time read through light novel vol. 5.

STOP BITING YOUR DAMN FINGERS!!!

“—If you have decided to fight, fight with all your body and soul. Forget all pretty words that lead to defeat. Hunger and thirst for victory using any means necessary. If you can still stand, if you can still move a single finger, if your fangs have not yet been broken, stand. Stand. Get up, get up, and attack. So long as you live, fight. Fight, fight, fight!”

In my last post I commented on how Subaru, if he wanted to be closer to Emilia, had ironically already learned the way during one of his previous loops; that instead of grandstanding and white knighting for her he could have just been her friend like she wanted. This reminds me a little of that, because we have seen Subaru fight with everything he has, not even entertaining Return By Death as an option for if he should fail. The fight against Elsa applies but I'm mainly thinking of when he faced off against the Shaman. He did everything he possibly could in that battle, fighting and struggling until the very end even when it was clear he couldn't win, not even allowing himself to think of failing because of what could happen to Rem and Ram. That's the interesting thing about Subaru. He has already had times where he's proved his worth and his value to others. But he's so caught up in the fantasy that he either doesn't see it himself or it's not enough for him.

This has nothing to do with anything, just that after reading Wilhelm in this book I love it so much that he and Sebas (from Overlord) are friends in Isekai Quartet. I want to see Wilhelm gushing about his wife and Sebas gushing about Tuare to each other.

As was typical, there were few that Emilia could count on, and she had enemies numbering beyond reason. In such circumstances, who would take her side without some kind of ulterior motive?

The answer was no one. After all, there was nobody currently at her side who would be her staunch ally.

She had left behind the one who would have.

No doubt, when Emilia realized that, she would regret what she had done. That was why—

Subaru lifted his head and murmured with determination, “I’ve...got to go save her, don’t I?”

....

In the carriage, he silently let the time pass, alone.

With the exception of Rem in the driver’s seat, he was isolated in that place, unable to sense the presence of any other.

—And he never noticed the faint twisting of his lips.

Oh ho! Ominous! But in seriousness, I do like what the narration is doing throughout this book and showing how somewhat twisted Subaru is becoming, to the point that he's happy something bad might be about to happen to the woman he loves just so he'll have an opportunity to try and save her again. Or that he can't be happy that Otto approves of Emilia trying to become king, because at the moment he sees his value as being the "only" person truly on her side; a mindset that's threatened by others who believe in her. Subaru, I believe, is a good guy, but obsession and entitlement can easily turn a good man bad. And yes, I am thinking of Star Wars.

I think I remember seeing fanart that made fun of how little of season 1 Otto was in.

All at once, the figures faced Subaru and reverently bowed their heads to him.

“—Ah?”

Subaru’s brain was unable to process the scene before him.

The incomprehensible band that had emerged was paying Subaru respect for reasons unknown, and leaving him behind in his confusion, they began sliding out of sight.

Given the narration implies they went after Otto after sparing him, I'm curious what specifically they noticed about Subaru; the witch's scent or his mental state?

If he could voice the possibility that he’d lost the girl he cared for and the possibility his own heart could break, then why not offer up a sacrifice so that he wouldn’t have to?

As much as I ship Subaru and Rem, I do like this bit. Him saying Rem's name and wondering over her fate because he can't bare to think about what might have happened to Emilia. He cares about Rem but clearly it'd be easier for him to accept something terrible happening to her over Emilia. Naturally though, I do like his horror at finding Rem's dead body, the narration talking about everything he'd come to like about her and that she was just starting to like herself.

I remember in the anime the scene that scared me the most was when Subaru gets flash-frozen. Obviously being frozen that much would kill you but this is a world of magic, so for all I knew it was going to be a Medusa situation (only with ice instead of stone) and Subaru wouldn't be able to RBD because he technically wasn't alive. It's a weird sensation, feeling relieved as you watch a man's body shatter like glass.

Thanks to Rem’s tireless efforts, the store had sold its merchandise nicely, and the shopkeeper, in quite high spirits, seemed inclined to give them a souvenir. He was asking how many abbles Subaru wanted to take with him, and she remembered him answering, “How ’bout all of ’em?”

The very next moment, his demeanor abruptly changed, and he fell limply onto the street. When Rem sat him up, he seemed so overcome by sadness and tears of joy that he kept laughing.

Beyond his own constant deaths and seeing the deaths of everyone he loves, the thing I felt the most sorry for Subaru for is how his RBD looks to everyone else. For us the audience we know what he's been through but for them it must look like he's either a whiner or completely crazy, with only his harsh emotional state giving them any reason to believe anything is actually wrong and that he's not just fragile.

So is it because the witch cult attacked her village that Rem is so sensitive to the scent of the witch or is it something else about her? Because she says even Ram can't catch the smell like she can, so I'm assuming it's not just a demon thing (though I suppose Ram doesn't have her horn, so maybe it could be), and she even says very few beings can detect the presence in general.

There are even more good parallels between Subaru and Rem in this book, but also some nice contrasts that come with them. She also wants Subaru all to herself and is jealous of all the others in his life, like he's starting to be with Emilia, but she keeps herself from being too possessive over him, even finding a lot of things she likes in his relationships with others. She even toys with the idea of running away with him, which I like given what I assume is going to be happening next volume. It's something she's considered and wanted even before Subaru's offer and shows that such a thing is very tempting for her. But she turns herself away from the idea, both to not abandon her sister and for Subaru's own sake as well.

I do like that any issues Rem has with Emilia are not just because Subaru loves Emilia. It's a factor, certainly, but there were issues before he ever even came into the picture because of Emilia's resemblance to the Witch of Envy. Even Rem acknowledges to herself that her feelings are irrational and unfair, because Emilia herself has done nothing wrong, but the witch cult still made any connections to the witch such a personal thing to her. I helps me understand the rest of this world a little better, given how near everyone is prejudiced against Emilia because of the witch. While it's irrational, that's exactly what great pain and tragedy cause.

I think the implication with Subaru's madness wasn't necessarily that he was faking it but that he willingly dove into the madness so that he could escape from reality and was actively fighting against returning to sanity. Not only were his reactions too genuine most of the time but I feel like either Ferris or Wilhelm would have called him out if he was completely faking it. Someone besides just Petelgeuse would have noticed. His experience from the first loop caused him to crack and he chose to stay broken so that he could be pitied and not have to deal with the world anymore.

Even though their hands were together, their hearts were at opposite poles.

Subaru Natsuki’s heart was tempted far into that deep, deep, dark abyss—

Holy shit, I love that line and image.

Nothing much else to say other than that I am SO happy Subaru and Crusch's talk over drinks seems to have been before the save point, so RBD didn't erase it. She might be one of my favorite non-mansion characters so far and the small relationship the two have built I don't want to see lost.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Re_Zero/comments/gq1uao/novels_first_time_read_through_light_novel_vol_5/