#and they see past the carefree exterior he puts up for others

[xvxblahhhxvx]

Sometimes, I think about the fact that Odasaku and Atsushi were the only two people Dazai really cared about to ever ask why he wanted to die. (Oda in The Day I Picked Up Dazai and Atsushi in 55 minutes). Kunikida and Chuuya just acknowledged it and believed it to be a part of him. But Odasaku and now Atsushi wanted to know why. They wanted to understand him because they truly care about him and see his goodness more than anyone else and alifodishfsdlfd

[jubileemon]

Explaining Huskerdust slowburn

Huskerdust is one of the most popular ships within the Hazbin Hotel fandom, which started with their first interaction in the pilot.

From the outset, Angel Dust shows a clear attraction towards Husk, which is evident from his immediate flirtatious behavior upon Husk's arrival as the hotel's bartender. This attraction is not subtle as Angel Dust is overt in his advances, often pushing boundaries. On the other hand, Husk was initially dismissive and annoyed by Angel's flirtations, responding with expletives and a general attitude of disinterest. Yet, this sets the stage for a relationship that promises to evolve slowly over time.

Although they started off bad, with Husk often finding great irritation in Angel's continued advances, their relationship would begin to deepen as the series progresses.

In the beginning, Husk made it no secret that he was forced to stay at the hotel because of his ties to Alastor and would gladly get as far away as he could if able to. He's addicted to gambling, much the same way Angel is addicted to drugs and sex. He used to be an Overlord but gambled away his bound souls until he got desperate enough to sell his own soul to Alastor.

While his words were poorly timed, pushing Angel's buttons after he'd just suffered a night of abuse from Valentino in "Masquerade", it's hard to deny that Husk is right to be frustrated with Angel's sexual harassment. He's cuttingly accurate when he points out how Angel's lewd and carefree behavior is all a self-destructive act that he hides behind to avoid his problems, and that nobody in the Hotel is particularly impressed with or taken by the front he puts up.

In the episode "Masquerade", a pivotal moment occurs when Husk rescues Angel from a potentially dangerous situation at a club that shows a protective side under his gruff exterior. Afterwards, Husk continues to remind Angel that he can stop his act. However, Angel, shedding tears and expressing his sadness, lashes out at Husk as they argue, explaining he needs to be who he is in order to break himself, both to wash away his misery and escape Valentino.

Saddened by this, Husk helps Angel recognize the parallel misery, which led to them both admitting their regrets and Husk revealing his past as an Overlord to Angel.

Husk getting through to Angel Dust in the manner he does makes a considerable amount of sense when it's taken into account that the first step to overcoming drug addiction is usually getting the addict to acknowledge they even have a problem. Angel hasn't been able to get better despite having some genuine interest because he's been utterly refusing to admit he has a problem to fix, the moment he does his mood drastically improves as does his motivation.

The song 'Loser, Baby' became an uplifting melody for Husk and Angel Dust's relationship. It encapsulates the message that while they may see themselves as losers, they aren't alone in their struggles.

The whole song is just "Stop thinking you're special". Some people may see that as a bad message (at first) considering what Angel goes through, but like him, staying in that mindset of "No one knows what I'm going through, no one else knows what it's like to be me, etc." would not be good for him at all as it would create a barrier of isolation. To be clear, the point is that Husk calls Angel a loser because people, especially very hurt people, need to break their cycle of self-loathing somehow. And sometimes, sometimes, people need to hear that they are, in fact, a loser. But that's okay because a lot of other people are too. This is even reflected in the song, with Angel initially assuming Husk is mocking him, but eventually picking up what he's actually saying. The message isn't "You're not special lmao," it's actually "You're not alone in this, and embracing that is a big step in getting out of it."

A small detail many fans have noticed is that whilst Valentino is very forceful with Angel Dust both emotionally and physically, during the song “Loser, Baby,” Husk is never seen grabbing Angel Dust at all during the song, only ever offering his hand out for him to accept. It's apparent that Husk is expressing more interest in Angel Dust, after seeing that he isn't as shallow as he comes off to be. Since then, Angel and Husk have formed a special bond through being vulnerable and honest with each other. But this scene also shows Husk's concern for Angel's well-being, especially when it comes to drugs and a potential relapse.

In the episode "Welcome to Heaven", Cherri invites Angel and Husk along with Niffty and Sir Pentious to a bar. During this scene, Cherri tries to motivate Angel to take drugs as a way to relieve stress. Husk reminded Angel it would destroy his progress. Husk then admits that Angel succumbing to drugs would really disappoint him. Angel declines the offer, making Husk smile, but later starts heavily drinking, something Husk disapproves of.

This concern is reciprocated when Angel Dust takes care of a drunk Niffty, suggesting a shift from his earlier, more self-centered behavior. The confrontation with Valentino, where Husk is ready to defend Angel Dust, further cements their bond.

Angel was very attracted to Husk and didn't hide it, with his constant boundary pushing flirtation. After being called out for this behavior, Angel not only begins a genuine bond with the cat demon but also stops the annoying, aggressive flirtation.

As they were preparing to fight the exorcists, Husk unconsciously makes a sex comment saying that "Angels won't stop coming", and Angel laughs at this remark. Husk realizes the double meaning of it, and laughs admitting his mistake.

During the bar scene in "The Show Must Go On" an instrumental of "Loser, Baby" plays in the background during Angel and Husks' conversation, which further underscores the hidden depths of their bond. Angel takes Charlie's words to heart about living however you want that night since it may be your last. How does he choose to do it? By simply having a drink with Husk and Cherri Bomb. Husk even notes that he's changed quite a lot since he came to the hotel.

Also, the way he looks at Husk and the little piano reprise of "Loser, Baby" playing in the background. Angel's feelings for him may run deeper than they seem... 😍

[flo-zoinks]

cop car and I bet on losing dogs by Mitski are Jack Marston to me.. he’s so dog metaphor motif you know? Like in my head John’s OBVIOUSLY represented w a wolf, and like idk Abigail a dog maybe? Like, she’s sweet but can be fierce. Guard dog type stuff. And she’s settled down with John. But Jack? My boy is a coyote. Not as beautiful and strong as a wolf, and not as domesticated and sweet as a dog. No, guy is in this awkward middle. He’s his mama’s boy but god, is he exactly like his father. But he’s not truly either one. Anyways. Idk how this went from Mitski to animal motifs but idk anyone to send random Jack yapping to.. I LOVE YOU JACK MARSTON!! I LOVE YOU ANIMAL MOTIFS!! and coyotes are my fave animal but whatever.. !

How did you know I love mitski..and jack marston ..and COMBINED😧

Your yap makes a lot of sense!! I love ur take on this boo

The lyrics of Cop Car I think could definitely portray his character if looked at that way, so much of it is so specifically similar.

Eg first lines: "I get mean when I'm nervous like a bad dog"

Considering Jack's anger he shows, as a response to the environment he was grown up in that caused so much stress, and nervousness, it coming out negatively like a "bad dog", (also similar to how he believes he comes from a rough, uncivilized background represented as a dog, which is a very uncivil and rough animal, he expresses he sees himself as a product of that environment), fitting very well in my opinion

Another line of: "I dont think about the past, it's always there anyway"

The repetition of that line comes of as denial, like she's trying to tell herself that even if she doesnt actually follow it. Jack's entire future and life is centered around that past, his becoming of a gunslinger, his murder of Ross, his cold cut off attitude is all a result of his past in the gang and family's involvement in that gang culture of the late 1800s. By 1914, Jack is seemingly a shell of a person, with "nothing to live for" as he says, and attached to the past as he goes to kill the man who ruined his family many years ago and often reference his past in small lines. However, Jack seems to still be trying to be independent and become and feel like his own person away from that past, which I think could be represented by that line trying to tell himself and deny he doesn't think of the past. The repeition also being in "its always there anyway" could show how he is so influenced by that old gang past and family past its shown so obviously every day to him by things like his gunslinger outfit and weapons.

Finally (although not the only other line you could pick): the line: "I miss riding horses, I miss running fast"

Obviously, Jack still rides horses in 1914. But this line creates imagery of a carefree, happy atmosphere of the past in which riding horses was an activity of joy rather then just a thing you do. One of the happiest times you see Jack in 1907 and 1911 is when John takes him horse riding, for instance when they go "riding fast" as John challenges him to a race. So perhaps you could take this line too as a reference, if looked that way.

Arent that many lines in cop car only about 3 other unique ones lmfaoo

As for I Bet On Losing Dogs, I think theres less that specifically could be used as a reference but the whole in general I get u gives it off too.

Eg when she says "someone to watch me die" , the line itself sounds like Mitski craves for someone to watch her at her most vulnerable, and be there where someone never normally would be unless very close to them. Someone to "see" her past all other artificial things and as total person. Jack doesn't have this, Jack has nobody to watch him die. So the line could be used to reference Jack's loneliness, and how much he internally craves someone to see him as a loving family member would, as all who have have left or just died in front of him. Obviously Jack would never say that, as he puts on a hard front exterior to protect himself from someone dying or leaving him again, but the want doesn't leave.

As for the animal representation, I totally get you!! Considering how much in 1914 Jack seemingly tries to feel like his Father, referencing him as himself often (eg in the line "I'm John Marston's boy!"), in addition to the fact other people perceive him as his Father, definitely I think shows that they would be represented by a similar animal.

Of course, not the same animal as its represented time and time again that Jack strives to separate himself too, and no matter how much he tries will always feel like a "black sheep" next to his Father.

So a coyote totally works for him! Especially with coyotes as very agitated animals, and only aggressive when threatened, yet when aggressive can be extremely dangerous. My only disagreement would be that coyotes are strong pack animals, whilst Jack, or atleast adult Jack, about anything but. Then again, you could argue Jack was a pack animal to start, but got separated from them.

I think his animal would be a Golden Jackal, in my opinion. Jackals are very wary of humans, and when threatened can be aggressive. But generally, will shy away and stay further from other predators silently. They aren't above smaller animals however, as they are known to even eat foxes. They're smaller then wolves, but often mistaken for wolves or coyotes.

Awww Abigail as a guard dog I could totally see !! I could see her as a guard dog that's been adopted by old people to become a normal house pet. Lots of guard dogs come from strict and often cruel environments, as no dog is born to be aggressive on command, but taught. This could perhaps parallel her environment growing up. Especially If a dog were adopted to a 'normal' household, that whilst still grateful and trying their hardest sometimes make mistakes as a result of their old environment giving them a negative reputation.

Thanks for yapping to me!! What do you think?? And happy new year ♡♡♡❤❤☝️☝️

[purgatorysmostwanted]

Arania! What is your opinion on the other exorcists?

Overall, she sees the Exorcists as her family. She loves each and every single member dearly, and does whatever it takes to make sure they’re all safe and happy!

She puts herself in harm's way even if it’s at the expense of her own bodily well being. She won't let the things that happened to her happen to anyone else, especially those she cares about.

More under the cut! (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

Luci - She sees him as a son, for the most part (and he’s very doting towards her as well). Luci may seem like an open book, but he’s actually extremely reserved about his past, his interests, his personal feelings, etc etc so it can be a bit hard for her to truly understand him (the only person who does is Az tbh) but she still cares about his well-being nonetheless!!

Azazael - While I don’t talk about their interactions very often, she cares about him more than you may think! Despite being even more closed off than Luci is about his past, he’s very tender and worries a lot about Ari, especially when she’s scouting. She thinks he’s a sweet boy, and sees him as a son alongside Luci (they’re a package deal!). They fuss over each other’s safety a lot lmao.

Micah - Her best friend and confidant. He knows more about her than all the other Exorcists combined, and vice versa. They’ve been through similar situations and find comfort in each other’s presence when life gets too hard. Micah could never love her romantically, though. He’s always had eyes for someone else, but no one really knows who. And! Arania tends to shy away from romance as a whole ^^” (She’s not Aro, just.. nervous)

Minoe - Ari loves her!! Also one of her closest friends! An absolute sweetheart once you get past that antisocial exterior. Minoe is basically Ari’s bodyguard whenever they go out scouting, and she’s eternally grateful for the protection; Minoe has saved her life more times than she can count! Though, she always feels a little guilty (?) whenever Minoe is.. too affectionate. Wonder why.

K9 - She loves K9. And, surprisingly, K9 loves her as well. (Kacey gets flustered by how.. warm Arania can be. And she never asks for anything in return? It’s weird. She’s.. Weird.) Arania knows how hard it can be for K9 to be open with their emotions; so hardened from war at such a young age. It makes her heart hurt! But she always reminds them it’s okay— HEALTHY, actually— to cry and smile and get mad etc; they’re still a person, after all. (They haven’t fully comprehended the fact that they’re safe now, but they're getting there.)

Dj - She thinks Dj is a fun kid! She’s not used to being overly rowdy, growing up “prim and proper like a true lady should”, but she still enjoys how optimistic and carefree he is. He says some concerning things sometimes, and those Freudian slips.. worry her. He’s just a kid, he shouldn’t be thinking those things? ..She keeps a closer eye on him.

[pastel-rights]

Truth and Inference | Omori AU

I was joking around but my friend Tae wanted to see this so you all have to see this too/j

Omori Spoilers below so please be careful if you haven't seen/played the game yet! I also add in some silly events that aren't in the actual game because I think it's neat :) feel free to ask me about them skdjfnksjdn

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PLAYER | Paranormal Detective

He'd take the spot of the PLAYER in a sense, and I could see him slowly uncovering the truth behind Lockheart's trauma 🤔 If you want to see PD as a physical character in the story, I could see him being a therapist or even a new neighbor of Lockheart's, approaching Lockheart without knowing anything.

And as a paranormal detective, I think PD would be able to see Lockheart's SOMETHING and be able to connect the dots that "ayo something here isn't alright" and get Lockheart to open up about the trauma she experienced due to her brother's death... comforting her and trying to help her overcome it.

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SUNNY | Lockheart

This one was obvious, going off the whole "Narcissus and Lockheart are siblings" headcanon I have hehehe

So, in canon, SUNNY was the younger of the two siblings and Lockheart just has little sister vibes i dunno. But this does mean that Lockheart not only accidentally kills Narcissus but then proceeds to make the accidental death look like a suicide, and she has to live with the guilt of what she's done...

I can also see Lockheart wishing to spend more time with Narcissus and putting herself through the frustration of learning violin just to have that time with him... because in my AU, Narcissus and Lockheart were separated when Lockheart was very young, like 4 or 5... wah...

And I could also see Lockheart having an obsession with locks and keys, wishing to lock away memories of Narcissus' death the way SUNNY tried to lock away his memories of MARI's death. Lockheart's WHITE SPACE could also be unlocked by one of the keys she always wears about her waist...

And I can also see Lockheart having self-confidence and self-worth issues that she covers up behind a facade of carefreeness and confidence. Hiding behind a shiny exterior to ignore how banged up and terrible she feels inside.

OMORI | Lockheart, again

Okay so. Obviously. This would obviously be Lockheart again- But I was thinking while SUNNY Lockheart is more dressed down and simpler looking, OMORI Lockheart could look more like Lockheart as she is in the essence, dressed up in her signature blue and white attire with the red coat... as the more "ideal" version of herself that Lockheart wishes to be.

And everyone in OMORI Lockheart's HEADSPACE looks more like their anniversary skins while the real-world versions are more plain and calm.

Also! "Years of repressing the truth resulted in OMORI becoming the very image of suicidal guilt and depression that SUNNY denies, essentially making him less of an alter ego. He becomes more of a culmination of the repression of trauma and escapism that SUNNY has done over his past four years as a hikikomori. By the time of the game's events, OMORI behaves autonomously and begins to influence SUNNY instead of the other way around; however, his goal is still the same: to protect SUNNY from the truth." and "OMORI then decides to "save" SUNNY from being fully consumed by his trauma. From there, he assumes complete control over SUNNY, causing the latter to cease to exist as he resigns himself to a never-ending cycle of dreaming forever and being unable to face the truth." yeah. YEAH. YEAH.

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MARI | Narcissus

The other obvious choice! MARI and SUNNY's sibling dynamic is so iconic sobs Besides the sibling dynamic, there's one other reason I choose Narcissus for Mari's spot and that happens to do with the actual AU I have, in which Narcissus does accidentally fall down... but not down some stairs. [Short version of the AU? Lockheart looking for her long-lost brother and ends up teaming up with T&I to do so, woahhhh]

Narcissus... no, Edgar, has always been one for his craft, and I could see Narcissus wishing to perfect piano in the same manner that MARI had wished to.

And despite being an asshole???? Narcissus really does care about Lockheart, and truly does wish to see her happy. And, while it may hurt his pride/j, I could see Narcissus's ghost apologize for making her feel miserable and for forcing her to practice so much. And no matter what?

He'll always care for and love his little sister.

HELLMARI | Golden Ratio

HELLMARI... I feel like HELLMARI is another manifestation of SUNNY's guilt and trauma, but this one is related to MARI while the one related to him was OMORI. I think HELLMARI is a representation of SUNNY's fears regarding how MARI feels about him, as well as a manifestation of the dark truth. And while OMORI is there to prevent SUNNY from learning the truth, HELLMARI is there to force SUNNY to confront the consequences of his actions... which is HELLMARI herself. So why not do the same here for Narcissus :)

I choose Golden Ratio over Narcissus again because I like both GR fits the concept of what I think HELLMARI is, both visually and aesthetically too. Like the image of someone as powerful and elegant looking as GR becoming this horrifying version of someone Lockheart loves... could be a really good use of this character. Not to mention that I headcanon that Narcissus originally had blonde hair but dyed it brown for the Oath of the Traitors thing, and Golden Ratio has blonde hair already! And the golden on his hand and body could slowly become black in color, as if saying "look, you've tainted and ruined such a good thing."

Yami's antagonist creating arc goes brrrr

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BASIL | Rainmaker or "Succubus" (?)

HONESTLY, this is just me pushing my "I think Rainmaker and Lockheart would be fun friends" agenda/hj

BUT! I don't know much about Rainmaker in the lore but she just. looks like a gentle and shy person who wishes to keep her friends together. And the STRANGER could be Rainmaker's other form! I dunno I'm sorry orz

---

I also say "Succubus" because didn't she. plan the murder of Rainmaker and "The Prince"???? Like how BASIL helped SUNNY fake MARI's suicide???? I don't know, the vibes match up/hj

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AUBREY | Sway

I think this combination is funny. Also, Sway with the flare gun has the same energy as AUBREY with the baseball bat/j

And I could also see Sway having a dramatic shift in character because of what happened in the. fucking anniversary event. Motherfuckers did her and Melly SO dirty and i hate them for it.

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KEL | Lady Truth

I just like LT's vibes as Kel. I think this is a good place for LT to land. Because I can't see her anywhere else???? Also this "The present-day KEL still retains his happy demeanor but appears more mature and understanding towards others. He is very social and likes talking with strangers when SUNNY is busy with jobs. He constantly tries to help others in-need, which could often lead him to making rash choices at times. KEL also desires to reconnect with his old friends, notably when he encourages SUNNY to be more active and healthy. He even tries to understand AUBREY's reasons for her anger and repeatedly protects BASIL from bullies as well, displaying the same sense of justice he possessed when he was younger." just sounds like my AU's interpretation of Lady Truth wah

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HERO | Mr. Inference

i just think this is another fun vibe check. also for that sibling bond between him and truth, yeah yeah yeahhhhh

I also think Mr. Inference is generally like the big brother of the agency??? Kind of like how HERO is the big brother figure of the friend group.

[dear-yandere]

☽ darling, don’t leave me.

yandere! jojos + dio. general headcanons. tw: mentions of physical abuse, gaslighting, confinement, and noncon (dio’s part).

art credits: rosuto, ぴの, wW 武 Ww, unknown, suan, tumbleweed.

Jonathan Joestar is obsessive.

A true gentleman, Jonathan knows better than to let his feelings stray from his control. Still, he’s never been one to pursue love, so these feelings are entirely new. He courts his darling like any other self-respecting man of his time, allowing them the space to choose whether or not they desire him too. He doesn’t take being turned down personally as he’s perfectly content with merely being by his darling’s side. Even seeing them fall for another man is something he cannot force himself to intervene in; every smile and laugh not directed at him hurts far worse than any punch he’s ever received, but Jonathan thrives in seeing his darling happy and carefree.

Clingy as he may be, he isn’t above taking a few of darling’s possessions should the opportunity present itself. A head band or hair tie here or there, perhaps a pair of gloves or a hat his darling is sure to not miss — Jonathan is surprisingly adept and subtle at stealing and keeping these little trinkets. Darling may notice a few missing possessions, but it’s nothing Jonathan can’t laugh off as a misplaced item and easily replace with something new and extravagant. Money isn’t a problem, especially when it comes to his sweetheart. If it means they’ll stay by his side — or even look his way as more than a friend or confidant — he’ll give his darling the world.

Overbearing and well-meaning as he is, even gentleman aren’t without their flaws.

“You don’t have to feel the same. All I ask is that you don’t leave me.”

Joseph Joestar is protective with a hint of possessiveness.

Acting much more like an older brother rather than a lover — similar to his grandfather Jonathan — Joseph is hyper-aware of anyone that might hurt his sweetheart. He’s not sure how it came to be this way, really; it’s a first for him to not know even his own feelings. His darling is easy enough to read, and perhaps that’s what got him into this situation, where even the slightest brush of skin against his or the mere sound of them saying his name sends his nerves on edge. He likes the attention they give him when he acts like a brotherly figure; there’s no need to worry about unwanted feelings developing between the pair. At least, darling doesn’t have to worry, because Joseph falls in love despite his precautions. It isn’t until a competent rival appears that Joseph becomes rather intensely possessive and competitive — a rival like Caesar.

He hates losing, especially when he had his eyes set on the goal first. The moment a suave man like Caesar sets their sights on Joseph’s darling, he’ll turn snarky, snappy with even his darling. It’s a brutally stark contrast to the playful, chipper demeanor he usually bears, but it’s easy for darling to play it off as him having a bad day — until he doesn’t relent. His grip is harsher these days, his tone more grating and condescending whenever darling shows interest in his rival. At some point, he’ll lash out whenever they show interest in any man other than him.

If his insecurities and one-sided love are kept unchecked, he has no qualms with cutting his darling’s connection to anyone he deems a threat.

“Of course I’m jealous! You’re mine! You need me!”

Jotaro Kujo is manipulative with a hint of sadism and lucidity.

With a cool and collected exterior, it’s easy to convince his darling that everything they believe is wrong. Even a lionhearted lover will doubt themselves; or rather, Jotaro would seek an individual like this out. He’s used to women and men swooning over his good looks and alluring physique, though he doesn’t care much for the attention. Even when he degrades and admonishes his admirers, they fawn and swoon over him — it’s nothing short of disgusting, really. 

His ideal darling — the only type of person he’d seek out, rather than let come to him — is someone with a steel heart, someone hellbent on rejecting his words as law, someone who puts up a fight. Degrading and humiliating them will be a treat, a fun little challenge to come home to. He doesn’t want them to enjoy this in the slightest; he wants them to slowly break, to slowly doubt every piece of information they hear unless it comes from his mouth. Even the death of a loved one will seem surreal, exaggerated, fake unless he says so himself, and even then he won’t allow his darling that sort of luxury.

Once he’s tied his darling down (with a ring, and with ropes), they won’t see very much of him. As he pursues his career in Marine Biology, he’s often away on business trips, his only excuse for long periods of absence being “it’s too dangerous”, or some slew of insults thrown his darling’s way. He isn’t fond of divulging much of his personal life with them even if they are the love of his life; to him, secrets come hand-in-hand with relationships. Darling’s life is in danger simply by association; it’s best to act as if they don’t exist. Still, that doesn’t mean he’ll let them slip through his fingers. When he wants something, he’ll get it even if it’s eventual. 

Darling was doomed the moment he found an inkling of interest in taming them.

“Don’t look so scared when I’m around. I shouldn’t have to repeat myself.”

Josuke Higashikata is protective with a hint of delusion.

Sweet and compassionate as he may be, Josuke isn’t immune to feelings of inadequacy, jealousy, and obsession. He rationalizes these feelings as merely being protective of a good friend of his, but it’s not until his friends point out that what he’s feeling is love that he truly understands why his heart pitters and patters like raindrops when his darling’s around. He completely understands if darling doesn’t return his feelings — these things take time, he’ll say — but he doesn’t take kindly to jealousy of any sort. A mere mention of liking someone else will have him moping and distancing himself, but he’ll stay around just enough to ensure his beloved’s protection.

Josuke wouldn’t fare well with a darling who’s familiar with getting under his skin. Even an insult or two to his hair isn’t enough for Josuke to give up on his one-sided love; if anything, it’s an opportunity. Crazy Diamond has the power to heal after all, and when Josuke’s emotions run away from him, his darling may end up with more than a few cuts and bruises. Bones will be shattered, blood will be spilled, and apologies will fumble past trembling lips as darling’s abuser fixes them up — as if nothing ever happened. The only trace of evidence are the tears in Josuke’s eyes and the excuses on his lips — this easily becomes the norm. Both he and his darling will constantly tread along eggshells, the former worrying that his actions destroyed any chance of a relationship and the latter worrying the next time they step out of line, they’ll die.

But Josuke wouldn’t let his sweetheart die, no. He can heal whatever wounds they may receive, even its its from him. He’s a platonic yandere, at worst, and an overbearingly violent one at best. 

“Please don’t scream. People will think I did something terrible to you.”

Giorno Giovanna is manipulative with a hint of protectiveness and lucidity.

This soldato is cunning and intuitive, a natural-born leader with charisma rivaling his true father’s. He turns heads wherever he goes, inspires everyone he meets — it’s almost laughable how easy it is to twine people around his fingers. As a mere Passione soldato, he isn’t much threat to his darling, but as don, any hope of escaping his suffocating love is slashed. His control reaches farther than his darling can ever tread, and although he understands why his little coccinella would go so far as to run away, the thought of being without them is inconceivable. How can he protect them if they’re not at his side? Without him, darling could fall in love with the wrong person, someone who wears a mask and will hurt them once they’ve settled down together; without him, darling could fall in love with a monster. His step-father was like that, and he’d made Giorno’s childhood a living hell. So how could he let his darling tread that same path?

With a well-behaved darling, the don is a fairly normal lover... once they get past all the bodyguards and paranoia-filled lifestyle. Unlike his father, Giorno is not sadistic in the slightest; rather, seeing his darling in physical or emotional turmoil hurts him. He’s more apt to manipulate them in subtle, gentler ways rather than through brute force or threats. After giving them a new identity, he’ll keep them someplace safe, a private island off the coasts of Italy, somewhere heavily guarded and devoid of life except for his beloved and their bodyguards. It’ll be lonely, he’s sure, so he’s certain to visit whenever he has an ounce of free time. But even he can’t replace one’s need to feel social, safe, normal. That’s just the price his lover has to pay as the future spouse of a mafioso.

If he lived a different life, there’d be no need for all of this. Giorno’s love is bittersweet at best, but that realization isn’t enough to let his darling go. They need him, perhaps just as much as he needs them.

“I really can’t take it when you cry like that… smile for me, alright? You’re so pretty when you smile.”

DIO is sadistic, manipulative, and possessive.

Love has never done much for him, not in the way feeling powerful has. He prefers ruling over others rather than giving someone the ability to rule with or over him. His darling is nothing more than a plaything, at best — something to pass the time, something to sate his curiosity. Just how far can he push them before they crumble between his fingers and shatter like a precious gemstone? He takes pleasure in testing these boundaries, humiliating his darling as if that will help him understand this odd feeling humans call love. It’s possible for him to truly fall in love with his darling, but they will never take priority over his desire to end the Joestar bloodline. Perhaps, once he accomplishes this goal, his darling will be something nice to come back to, something stagnant and forever his.

He’ll go to lengths to break his darling, over and over again, see how much torture they can withstand before they realize that crying out or begging gets them nowhere. Will they hide their defiance under a facade of obedience, or will they truly break? It’s all an experiment to Dio, but either way, he’ll force them to be his little sex slave — sometimes, if they’ve behaved particularly nasty, darling will be the sex slave of his devoted followers, a little reward for being such wonderful subordinates. 

Apart from sexual torture, he’s keen on testing his darling on tidbits of information from the books he reads — completely mundane and often vague questions designed to make his little slave fail. It’s just a precursor, really, because he likes seeing them shine with determination only for it to shatter before their eyes. Punishments always follow, usually humiliation or sexual assault of some sort; though if he’s in a particularly bad mood, he won’t shy away from physically hurting his darling. All the better to break them with.

It’s a miracle if darling survives this little game of his, but if they do, he’s certain to keep them around for far longer than he originally anticipated. Being immortal can get so boring, you see, and what’s the fun of bottomless money and endless casual sex if he can’t keep an entertaining and worthy slave here or there?

“Tell me you love me as I fuck you into the mattress.”

[hafanforever]

Through a Mirror Darkly

One of my favorite things about villains is how they can serve as dark reflections of their protagonist or deuteragonist (or some other major supporting character) enemies. By this, I mean that villains are basically the evil counterparts to the heroic ones. They share some personality traits or have similar goals to the heroes, making them the example of what the good characters could or would become if they go down the wrong path or do not change whatever negative traits they possess.

In Disney, many of the villains from the Renaissance and Revival Eras are dark parallels to the protagonists, as well as occasional deuteragonists. Here are all the villains from the Disney animated canon who are evil counterparts to the heroes and what makes them as such.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: The evil queen is this to Snow White.

Both are female monarchs known for their outer beauty, with Snow White’s being the only one to surpass that of her stepmother.

However, despite her beauty, Snow White is a kind, gentle, benevolent, humble person.

Her stepmother, on the other hand, is extremely vain and obsessed with her own beauty that she cannot tolerate any competition. The queen’s determination to remain the fairest one of all drives her to murderous insanity, and she seeks to kill Snow White just to remove her “rival”.

Therefore, the queen is a dark reflection of the kind of person Snow White would have become had she grown obsessed and vain over her physical appearance.

Beauty and the Beast: Gaston is this to the Beast.

Both are handsome men who want to use Belle their own selfish reasons, with the Beast wanting her to help him break his curse and Gaston wanting to make her his trophy wife and slave.

Both also become enraged after Belle rejects them, which happens primarily because of their bad manners towards her, with her refusing Gaston’s marriage proposal and later refusing to eat dinner with the Beast.

However, after he saves her from the wolves, the Beast begins to change into a more caring, compassionate, selfless individual. He falls in love with Belle for her kindness, independence, and intelligence (reasons far beyond her outer beauty), and takes her needs and happiness before his own, especially when he allows her to leave his castle so she can help her father, even though time is running out for the curse to be broken.

Gaston, on the other hand, lusts after Belle purely for her outer beauty and wants to marry her since he believes her being the most beautiful woman in town makes her the right one for him. After Belle rejects his proposal, Gaston makes no attempt to change his ways for the better out of his own arrogance, narcissism, and egotism. Instead, he resorts to attempting to force her to marry him using deception and manipulation. 

Therefore, Gaston serves as a dark example of what the Beast could have become if he had never met Belle, but also the Enchantress. In fact, the Beast makes this realization when he grabs Gaston by the throat and the latter pathetically begs for mercy. The Beast sees that Gaston is the monster he would have become had it not been for Belle, and if he killed Gaston, he would be no better than him. And since he wants to be better than Gaston, especially because he truly loves Belle, the Beast reluctantly spares him by telling him to leave the castle.

Aladdin: Jafar is this to Aladdin.

Both Aladdin and Jafar are men who wish to move up in society and wind up resorting to trickery to do so, including putting on a facade in order to ingratiate themselves with the royal family. Aladdin pretends to be Prince Ali and initially acts cocky and smooth to cover up his true, humble street urchin self, while Jafar pretends to be the Sultan’s loyal vizier when he actually despises the Sultan and schemes to take the throne of Agrabah for himself.

Both also rely on magic in their pursuits. Aladdin relies on the Genie to make him a prince so he can win Jasmine’s heart, while Jafar uses his snake staff to hypnotize the Sultan and manipulate him into doing what he (Jafar) wants him to do. Later, Iago steals the lamp when Aladdin isn’t around, and Jafar makes his first two wishes to become Sultan and then a powerful sorcerer.

However, Aladdin’s guilt over deceiving Jasmine and the Sultan drives him to back out of using his third wish to free the Genie, after which he finally decides to come clean about his lies. In the end, he keeps his promise to the Genie and sets him free, rather than to wish to become a prince again. 

Jafar, on the contrary, becomes so caught up his own power that it ultimately becomes his undoing. Aladdin cons Jafar into believing that the Genie is the only being more powerful than him, so Jafar uses his final wish to become a Genie himself. But seconds after making his wish, Aladdin reminds Jafar that being a Genie makes him a prisoner of a lamp, and Jafar realizes too late that he has been tricked.

Therefore, Jafar serves as a dark parallel as to what Aladdin might have become had he not freed the Genie and become too obsessed and hungry for the power and status that would come with him succeeding the Sultan.

The Lion King: Scar is this to Simba.

Both are rebellious lion princes who develop a sense of entitlement, believing that being a king means that they can always do whatever they want, always get their way, and have their orders obeyed with question or argument.

With such feelings, both Scar and Simba only care for what benefits they would get as king and do not grasp the responsibilities that come with being a ruler. 

Simba starts out as a young lion cub who js the future king of the Pride Lands. His position as the future king inflates his ego, making him arrogant and boastful enough that he believes that being a king means he is entitled to do anything he wants whenever he wants, that he doesn’t have to be told what to do, and can make or get rid of any rules he dislikes.

Scar, on the other hand, is the younger brother of Simba’s father Mufasa, and has lost a legitimate chance to be king due to Simba’s birth. Scar still has a deep-rooted desire to be ruler of the Pride Lands, but only for the power and authority it would give him over the other lions and animals in the kingdom. Scar’s lust to become king drives him to murder Mufasa and try to murder Simba, whom he blames for Mufasa’s death. Sent off into exile, though with everyone believing he is dead, Simba grows up living a carefree lifestyle while Scar assumes control of the Pride Lands. His incompetent, lazy, and dismissive behavior regarding the responsibilities as a ruler, especially the balance of nature, turns the kingdom into a barren wasteland.

However, in adulthood, after being encouraged to do what’s right by Mufasa’s ghost, Simba decides to go home to atone for the mistakes of his past and take his place as the true king. Seeing what Scar’s tyranny has done to the Pride Lands makes Simba understand the importance of his responsibility, and he eventually learns that Mufasa’s death was not his fault.

Scar, however, is killed by the hyenas because he cowardly tries to run away and blame them for his crimes just to weasel his way out of facing the consequences.

Overall, Scar proves himself to be the very tyrant Simba would have become if he had grown so obsessed with his future power and authority and not learned to understand what important responsibilities come with being a ruler. In fact, one could even say that “Be Prepared”, Scar’s song about his plot to become king, is a dark reflection of “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King”, young Simba’s song about his excitement over becoming king and all the great things his rank will do for him.

Pocahontas: Governor Ratcliffe is one to John Smith.

Both men are in charge of the Virginia Company who venture into the New World in search of gold and riches.

Both have bigoted views of the indigenous inhabitants, seeing them as savages upon which to look down.

Both also feel a sense of ownership to Virginian and/or its resources, which can be shown when they both sing in “Mine, Mine, Mine”.

However, after meeting Pocahontas and learning about her, her people, and her world, including that there is no gold present, John no longer views the Native Americans as savages (and instead believes that they could help him and his company), and comes to respect the fact that the land rightfully belongs to them.

On the contrary, Ratcliffe holds on to his intense racism, supremacy, and greed, which drives him into delusion and fantasy that the Powhatans are hoarding the non-existent gold for themselves. He ultimately declares war on the tribe in order to obtain the “gold” while claiming it as a rescue party after John is captured by them.

Therefore, Ratcliffe serves as a dark parallel as to what John would have become if he had never met Pocahontas.

The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Frollo is this to Quasimodo.

Quasimodo has a monstrous exterior, but he is actually a benevolent, gentle, and kind person.

On the contrary, Frollo is a normal-looking person, he is a pure monster on the inside.

Both have unrequited attraction to Esmeralda, with Quasimodo's being friendly love and Frollo's being lust and obsession. These are further emphasized by their respective songs: Quasimodo's "Heaven's Light" and Frollo's "Hellfire".

Both also face rejection from Esmeralda, but for different reasons. Quasimodo faces it because Esmeralda loves Phoebus, and while he is initially heartbroken over it, he learns to accept it and remains friends with the couple.

On the other hand, Frollo becomes furious when Esmeralda refuses to become his mistress, so he gives into his hatred and racism towards her people by attempting to murder her, and then commit mass genocide against the gypsies.

Therefore, Frollo serves as a dark parallel as to what Quasimodo could have become if he developed bigotry and wrath towards the gypsies after seeing that Esmeralda only loved him as a friend.

The Emperor’s New Groove: Yzma is this to Kuzco.

Both are power-hungry authority figures in the empire, with Kuzco being the emperor and Yzma being his adviser.

Both are very arrogant, callous, selfish people who view themselves as superior to everyone else in the empire due to their ranks.

In the beginning, Kuzco possesses all these negative traits and more. He rules his empire completely without the best interest of his people and always seeks to have his way, regardless of any misfortunes it could cause other people. After Kuzco fires Yzma for doing his job in his absence, she plots revenge by aiming to kill him so she can rule the empire.

However, after being accidentally transformed into a llama and befriending Pacha, Kuzco comes to realize the error of his ways, while Yzma remains bent on eliminating Kuzco.

Therefore, Yzma serves as a dark reflection of what Kuzco would have become if he had not met Pacha and undergone his transformation.

Tangled: Gothel is this to Flynn Rider (aka Eugene Fitzherbert).

Both are manipulative, arrogant, and selfish people who use Rapunzel for something they want, with Gothel using her for the magic of the sun flower in Rapunzel’s hair, and Flynn to get her to tell him where she hid his satchel containing (unknown to her) Rapunzel’s tiara.

Both find themselves as a reluctant companion/protector to Rapunzel, with Flynn helping Rapunzel escape from tower so she can see the floating lanterns, while Gothel plays the role of Rapunzel’s mother and manipulates her into staying in the tower so she can use Rapunzel’s hair to stay young forever.

However, Flynn grows to care for Rapunzel and sees her as a person without ever showing interest in using her hair for his own personal gain. His love for her changes him into a better person, as shown when he aims to protect and rescue her from Gothel, with him ultimately sacrificing the chance to be healed from the fatal wound Gothel inflicts on him so that Rapunzel can be free of Gothel. After being revived, Flynn brings Rapunzel home to her parents and in the final scene, he announces in his voiceover narration that his love for her also led him to decide to stop thieving.

Gothel, on the other hand, only puts up with Rapunzel since Rapunzel’s hair has the magic Gothel wants for her own selfish desire. She views Rapunzel as a pest and any forms of “affection” she gives Rapunzel are actually towards her hair, in reference to that Gothel truly loves the power in Rapunzel’s hair and not Rapunzel herself. To keep her from leaving the tower, Gothel constantly belittles, demeans, manipulates, and emotionally abuses Rapunzel, especially by using guilt trips and victim blaming whenever they argue or when Rapunzel defies and challenges her “authority”. When Rapunzel discovers she is actually Corona’s missing princess, Gothel resorts to chaining and dragging her to another place far away to keep the magic within her hair forever and permanently prevent Rapunzel from leaving ever again.

Therefore, Gothel serves as a dark parallel of what Flynn could have become if he had never met Rapunzel.

Wreck-It Ralph: King Candy, who is later revealed to truly be the long-presumed-dead Turbo, is this to Ralph.

Ralph is programmed to be a villain in his own game and is treated as such, but he is actually kind, selfless, humble, well-meaning, and sympathetic towards other characters in the arcade, particularly the homeless ones.

Turbo, on the other hand, was originally programmed to be the hero of his game, but he was actually arrogant, selfish, attention-seeking, egotistical, and had no care or value for anyone else besides himself.

Both leave their own games, or game-jump, in order to get attention and recognition, but have different motives for doing so. Ralph game-jumps to get respect and positive recognition that he had always been denied, while Turbo does so out of jealousy and spite in an attempt to regain the attention and popularity he lost when RoadBlasters was plugged in and got more notice than TurboTime.

Therefore, Turbo serves as a dark example of what Ralph might have become if he had grown too obsessed with getting what he wanted.

Frozen: Hans is this to Anna.

Both are the youngest siblings in their respective families.

Both grew up feeling neglected, rejected, and overshadowed by their older siblings.

However, while Anna still loved Elsa and was willing to do anything to reconnect with her, Hans grew to resent his brothers and was willing to do whatever it took for him to finally be on top, to gain and attention and everything he rarely to never got by growing up in their shadows.

Therefore, Hans serves as a dark counterpart of what Anna would have become had she finally given up on mending her relationship with Elsa.

Big Hero 6: Professor Robert Callaghan is this to Hiro.

Both are intelligent people who lose a beloved family member, with Hiro losing his older brother Tadashi and Callaghan losing his daughter Abigail.

Both become consumed with grief and determination to avenge their loved ones, to the point that they want to destroy those who they believe are responsible.

However, while Hiro briefly becomes enraged after learning that Callaghan faked his death, stole his microbots, and that Tadashi died for nothing after he went into the burning building to save him (Callaghan), he comes to his senses with help from his friends and learns to accept his loss.

Callaghan, on the contrary, lets his rage and grief over losing Abigail consume him enough that he desires revenge on Alistair Krei. Callaghan’s obsession causes his own morality to apparently vanish based on the way he ruthlessly pursues and tries to murder any innocent bystanders who get in his way. He even coldly and callously dismisses Tadashi's death as his own mistake and ultimately rebuffs Hiro's pleas to accept Abigail's loss (despite briefly showing a hint of regret). But when he sees Abigail alive after all (after Hiro rescues her), Callaghan realizes that all of his senseless destruction ended up being for nothing, so he shows shame and possibly remorse for his actions once he is arrested.

Therefore, Callaghan serves as a dark reflection of what Hiro would have become had he let his grief turn into vengeance and not learned to move on from Tadashi’s death.

Zootopia: Dawn Bellwether is this to Judy Hopps.

Both are small prey animals who hold important positions in the city (Judy as a cop, Bellwether as the assistant mayor) and want to be successful and appreciated for their efforts.

Despite their positions, both are overlooked, dismissed, looked down on, misjudged, and mistreated by their bosses (Judy by Chief Bogo and Bellwether by Leodore Lionheart) and other larger animals, especially by predators.

However, while Judy has some mild bigotry towards predators (especially foxes, due to being bullied by one as a child), she truly wants to live peacefully among predators, wants prey and predators to also live as such, and overcomes her troubled past to bring an end to the conspiracy against the predators.

On the other hand, Bellwether gives in to her hatred for predators (particularly because of the abuse she endures from Lionheart as his assistant), and starts her conspiracy of turning predators savage in order to become mayor and remove them from Zootopia.

Therefore, Bellwether serves as a dark parallel of what Judy might have become had she allowed her mild bigotry towards predators intensify into pure hatred.

Frozen II: King Runeard is this to Elsa, his own granddaughter.

Both are very powerful monarchs who, at different points in their lives, are the sole rulers of Arendelle.

Both have keep big secrets about themselves from their kingdom, and also hold great fears of magic.

However, Elsa feared her own magic since she believed that she would lose control of them and harm people, especially those she loved. She learns to overcome her fear and to trust herself, and the people close to her.

On the contrary, Runeard feared magic because he believed it to be a threat and competition to his own royal status and power. His fear grew into paranoia, hatred, and bigotry, which clouded and corrupted his judgment over trusting people with ties to magic, making him believe that the Northuldra, and anyone who is magical or follows magic, can never be trusted.

Therefore, Runeard serves as a dark example of what Elsa might have become if she allowed her fear to consume her.

However, while Runeard serves as a dark parallel to Elsa, he also serves as a darker counterpart to Hans.

As I described them in “The Men with Two Faces”, both men are obsessive, manipulative, selfish monarchs who pretend to be kind and noble in order to hide their true natures and gain the loyalty and trust of others for their own personal gain.

Both are also very power-hungry who only care for the power they have/crave and are willing to go to lengths of treachery and murder to get what they want and expand their power.

Both sneak up on people sitting on the ground and try to murder them with their swords since they view them as a threat to their goals. However, while Hans failed to kill Elsa due to Anna’s intervention, Runeard succeeded in killing the Northuldra leader.

Therefore, Runeard is what Hans could have become if he had succeeded in killing both Elsa and Anna and been crowned king of Arendelle.

I owe a thanks to my dearest friend and soul sis @minervadeannabond for coming up with this title. Although I am called the Queen of Puns, I sometimes have trouble coming up with clever puns as titles for my analyses, and she’s always there to help me out. Thank you so much, girl! Love you much! 😁😊❤️

And since today is All Hallows Eve, what better kind of analysis for me to post today than one about villains?

Happy Halloween, everyone! 😁🎃👻

[quietmyfearswith]

girl at home ; andy barber x fem!reader ; 1/3

status — completed series

word count — 4,830 words

warnings — few swear words, a bit of defending jacobs spoilers, not compliant with book/show ending, fluff?? bit of angst???

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — lmao i lied this comes first then in a few i’ll post the final part of public’s eye. if someone reads this pls tell me what youd be more interested in, august walker or steve rogers social media au

masterlist | series masterlist

After proving Jacob’s innocence Andy imagined things would have been smooth-sailing from there. He was wrong.

Laurie asked for a divorce; citing how their marriage was built on a lie and that it was time to be truthful to themselves and to Jacob. They both also agreed that it wasn’t just working anymore, but on Andy’s part he was more than willing to try harder for it to work, but didn't want to push it. He accepted her wishes and didn’t fight for full custody over Jacob — he was more than content with spending weekends and certain holidays with his son. They both moved out of their Newton house and revealed to Andy how they were both relocating to Bakersfield in California; the lawyer being partially surprised with how far they were moving, but ultimately remembered how she had some family members over there.

Before their departure, Andy and Jacob got to bond one last time and somehow their conversation shifted to how the former had no plans of selling the house and moving somewhere else. “Don’t you think you’d be too lonely?”

The blunt question did get Andy thinking but he shrugged it off, “Maybe? I just don’t see myself living anywhere else, I guess.”

Nodding, the boy looked out the window as the Audi drove by. His eyes scanned a big red sign that read “For Rent” and suddenly gave him the idea as he turned to his father, “Or you could put a room up for rent?”

Hitting the brakes smoothly as there was a red light, he turned to his son and looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed, “What?” 

“Green light,” Jacob informed and Andy nodded as he released his foot off the brake and continued the way home, “Advertise my room, or the spare one, for rent. That way, you know, you won’t really be alone.”

Pursing his lips together, Andy thought about it for a while. Would anyone even one to live there? With him? He didn’t want to seem like he was rejecting his son’s idea or make him feel like he was a fool for coming up with that one so he just found himself nodding, “Sounds like a great idea, pal.”

And when they were back at home, Jacob insisted he help his dad place an advertisement online for the availability of the spare bedroom across Jacob’s. Even though he thought it was a foolish idea, Andy just went along with it for two reasons — one, he just wanted to go along with what his son wanted and make him somewhat happy. And the second one being he was absolutely positive no one would want to live here.

It was a deal too good to be true; surely there had to be a catch? $500 a month for a room that was fully furnished? Maybe the house was just ugly? Or perhaps the room wasn’t really how it was pictured? Either way Y/N found herself messaging the house owner, Andy Barber, and let her know she was interested in checking the place out.

Pulling up in front of the house, Y/N let out a long whistle as she marveled at how the exterior of the house was well-groomed and clean. Exiting her car, she made her way to the front door and rang the doorbell and leaned by one of the columns as she took in the quiet ambiance of the neighborhood. Hearing the door creak upon, she turned around and smiled, “Hi! Are you Andy Barber?”

The bearded man was dressed in a simple ragged t-shirt and a pair of sweats; and despite the impression that he had just woken up, she thought that he had this cute boyish charm to him. “Yeah that’s me, you must be Y/N?” He offered his hand out for a shake, one which the girl enthusiastically shook. 

As they both unclasped their hands Y/N wondered, “Is it a bad time? I can come back later,” Her question had him chuckling and she felt her heart warm with how relaxed he looked as he shook his head, “It’s not a bad time, this is just how I normally look.”

He stepped aside so she could come in and take a tour of the house. As Y/N was being shown around the house, she could not prevent her jaw from dropping from how cozy, elegant, and complete everything looked.

“And if you choose to, this is where you’ll be staying,” Andy opened the room to the spare bedroom and led her inside and allowed her to take a look around. It had a bed, a dresser and wardrobe, mirror, a reading chair, and a study desk paired with an office chair.

Turning to the man, “So what’s the catch?” Her question caught him off guard and folded his arms as he tilted his head to the side, “The catch?”

She nodded and looked at him as if she had the telepathic abilities to let him know what she was thinking, “You know, the reason why the rent’s so cheap? Is this house haunted? Do you actually have a rat infestation problem?”

As Andy threw his head back laughing at her suggestions, he couldn’t remember the last time he was this carefree. “No catch,” he explained once he calmed down from laughing and sat down on the reading chair, “Not haunted or rat infestation, really. Just I don’t know,” he struggled to look for the right words as he placed his hands on his thighs and rubbed them, “Put a room up for rent just so I wouldn’t get lonely.”

Y/N leaned by the office desk that was beside the chair Andy was sitting on as she spoke, “Well I liked the place so much; I’m guessing that means you won’t have to be alone?”

Looking up at her Andy smiled, “That’s great then, let me get the spare house key for you.” 

“I hope I don’t seem too fast or what, but I hope you don’t mind if I move my things up already? I have all my belongings in the car.”

Andy nodded, “Oh no worries about it, let me help you get your stuff.”

For the next couple of hours, Y/N settled her things around the room. She placed her clothes on the dresser and wardrobe. Settled her pictures and other stationery items on the desk. Attaching the house keys to the keychain she had which contained her keys and skipped her way down the stairs. 

Seeing how Andy was by his office area she asked, “Oh by the way I forgot to ask, are you allergic to something?”

“Planning to kill me already huh?” He joked as he looked at her pointedly to which she rolled her eyes at, “No, dummy. I was planning on cooking dinner.”

“Nope, not allergic to anything,” he clarified and she smiled and waved goodbye. Looking at her retreating form, Andy shook his head as he took note of how silly his new roommate was. He buried himself with preparing his things for office as Y/N went around to explore her new neighborhood’s grocery store.

Dozing off in the bedroom, Andy woke up once a savory and aromatic smell hit his nostrils. Rubbing off the sleep in his eyes, he sat up and glanced at the clock on his bedside table and took note of how it was already 5:30 in the evening. Slept longer than I thought I would, he thought to himself as he left the comfort of his bedroom and headed to see the source of the fantastic smell.

Upon reaching the kitchen he was greeted with the sight of Y/N moving around the kitchen, “What’s all this commotion about?”

Stopping her movements from stirring the pot, she smiled, “Cooking dinner; made carbonara,” she pointed to the pot she was currently attending to, “Baked some garlic bread,” she pointed to the pyrex container which had a few loaves of bread in it, “And some chicken tenders as well, because I was craving.”

Nodding, he grabbed a chicken tender and took a bite of it to which she gasped, “Andy! Couldn’t even wait a few more minutes!” The taller man could only sheepishly smile with his mouth full of chicken, “Sorry ‘bout that, want me to set the table?”

“Please do. Oh and I noticed you had a certain beer in the fridge so I hope you don’t mind I bought you a pack?” As she mentioned that he did see a new, unopened pack next to the single beer he had left inside the fridge. “Thanks for that; red wine your poison?” He inquired since he noticed a wine bottle he surely never bought. Seeing her nod, he asked if she wanted a glass to which she said yes to. In the next few minutes a comfortable silence engulfed them as they both were focused on preparing their first meal together. 

Once everything was put in place they both sat across each other, Y/N placed her hands under her chin and looked at Andy with an excited look in her eyes, the man raised his brow at her, asking her nonverbally what she was looking at him for. “Go ahead, try it,” she softly encouraged him to which he nodded and swirled his fork around the pasta which the white sauce had already clung into and opened his mouth to taste.

“It’s good,” he complimented her as he swallowed, “Better than anything I’ve eaten in the past few months.” She clapped her hands and started to eat as well. “I was surprised to see your lack of groceries.”

He waited until his mouth was empty from eating the garlic bread she had before explaining, “Don’t really cook a lot; survived off takeout recently.” Despite having her mouth full with a tender, a loud shock was emitted from the woman across and Andy lightly cuckold at how adorable her reaction was. 

“Lucky for you, I love to cook so you won’t be filling yourself up with that junk,” she assured him as she drank from her glass of wine. Setting his fork down he looked at her skeptical, “What brings you to Newton anyway?”

Her hands tore the garlic bread as she gulped down her drink, “Just finished college then found a job here so there’s that.”

“Which program did you take?” He wondered; not knowing if it was his curiosity about someone living in his house or it was the lawyer in him couldn’t help but question everything.

“Took a few years off after high school to know what I really wanted to do; then just took a two year course,” she further explained as she told him which degree she chose. Somehow her answer just had Andy even more interested so he pried, “Why not get a full degree?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “Didn’t want to waste four years of my life.” 

“Would four years really be wasted if you spent it studying something you’re interested in?” he retorted back as he took a swig of his beer.

“Touché,” she acknowledged as she gobbled some pasta, “But I don’t know, I just feel like the time I’m spending on studying would be better spent if I was actually doing something I want. Get a job I wanna do. Visit every state in the country. Get a house with a pool. You know, just do things that make me happy without having any regrets”

As she listed off the things she desired in life, a solemn expression graced Andy’s face. Her perspective did make him think about how he lived his own life as well. Perhaps how there were certain choices that did make him happy and somehow there were regrets lingering in his mind. “And have you done any of those?”

“Well obviously I don’t have a house,” she joked as she waved her hand around Andy’s home, “But I did get a job here that I think I’ll enjoy, an 8-5 kind,” she paused for a while to gulp down more of the red wine she bought, “What about you?”

“What about me “ he questioned back as he looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She rolled her eyes jokingly, “What’s your story, I guess? What brought you here in Newton?”

Her naivety had him questioning whether or not she knew the whole ordeal that his family went through; but he spared her of the full details, maybe next time or once he felt like he could fully trust her he’d tell her everything. “Had family here with me, but not anymore,” her eyes widened in shock with what he revealed but he was quick to reassure her, “I'm divorced now, ex-wife has full custody of our son. Used to be an assistant district attorney, now I’m just in private practice for civil litigation cases.”

Somehow, Andy felt a weight unload once he told her about him. Though granted it wasn’t the whole thing, but having someone to talk did make him feel lighter, more human. Y/N, on the other hand, felt amazed with how Andy chose to carry on despite what he’s been through. She got the feeling there was more to it than what he let on; and pity was not what she felt but more of feeling happy with how he did not give up and instead keep on going.

Holding her glass she raised it, “Here’s to new beginnings and being single then,” she toasted. Smiling, he raised his beer bottle and brought it to touch against her glass, “To new beginnings and being single.” The two then proceeded to finish the rest of their meal in silence.

The sun was shining bright that Monday morning and Andy woke up early to head down to their basement and do his morning exercise. Thirty minutes into it, he could sense that Y/N had woken up not only due to her footsteps he heard, but also because he could smell something delicious coming from the kitchen.

As he finished his workout, he headed up to his room to take a quick shower and dress up for his work. Granted it might have been too early to do all those but the smell of the food and the company of which he’d be eating breakfast enticed him to do so. Heading down, he was dressed in his full lawyer gear, minus the jacket, and smiled as he saw Y/N eating the rest of her pancakes by the breakfast bar.

“Morning Andy,” she greeted him, “There’s a fresh pot of coffee if you’d like,” she pointed to where she had just gotten a cup for herself as well. “Thank you,” he then moved to get himself a cup and once he did he took note of a plate that had a couple of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

Pointing to it he accused her, “It’s as if you want me to waste the workout I just did huh.” She threw her head back in laughter at what he said while shaking his head to tell him that it wasn’t her intention. Glancing down on her wrist watch she mumbled a soft, “Shit,” upon noticing the time. Stacking her mug on the plate she moved to the sink where Andy grabbed the cutlery and utensils from her, “Let me do it and go ahead.”

Placing a hand on his forearm — in which they both felt relaxed and warm at their first touch — she thanked him for doing so and grabbed her bag that she placed on the couch. “Good luck on your first day,” Andy called out as he began munching on his own food. She yelled a quick thanks and see you as she closed the door behind her. Staring down on his plate, he smiled again upon seeing how the food in his plate resembled a smiley face; She really is something, he thought to himself.

The rest of the week flew by and both Andy and Y/N spent the week almost doing everything together. The former would wake up early and get his workout down; and sometime during the 45 minutes he’d spend on the basement the latter would take that time to prepare herself for the day ahead as well as the most important meal for their day. And if there were leftovers from the night before or that she had made too much for breakfast and was able to whip it into something for lunch, then she packed those not only for her, but for Andy as well.

And their routine together did not just stop there it bled into the night as well. Where it was always Y/N who came home first. After taking a bath either she’d start cooking supper or she would clean around the house a little — she noticed how Andy’s office area was frequently messy and she did her best to fix the mess without being too intrusive about it. She never step foot in his room, wanting him to have his privacy, but from what she could see he kept it organized despite having a few trash here and there, so she didn’t really loiter in that area of the house.

In hindsight, Y/N didn’t have to cook and clean for Andy. But with how low her rent was she felt that it was only fair to do so. Plus there was a part of her that somehow liked being around him, having someone to talk to about everything and anything they both could think of. There was never really a dull conversation between them.

Friday night arrived and instead of cooking another meal Y/N decided to get a pizza, wings, and another pack of beer for Andy. As she was in the liquor portion of the grocery she bumped into one of their neighbors, Joan RIfkin, whom she also recognized as one of the friends of her workmate.

“Y/N, right?” the woman asked as she looked at her with concern. “Yeah, that’s me. We met through Emily, when you helped her get to work,” Y/N recalled, both for her and Joan.

“Is it true that you live with Andy?” her question had Y/N wondering, how the hell did she know that? Despite that thought she nodded, “Room was cheap so I thought why not?”

Her nervous chuckle could not ease the tension between the two ladies; especially when Joan gave her a stern look as she warned her, “Be careful, okay? The Barber’s caused quite a ruckus and Andy is quite unpredictable.”

As Joan walked away while pushing her cart, Y/N was left confused and conflicted. The new information presented to her, though it was vague, left her puzzled about whether or not it was true. She was also unsure about the need to clarify with Andy what she has just been told.

Once his car was parked in the garage, Andy loosened his tie and entered the house. What greeted him was not the sight of Y/N cooking but her sitting on the couch while scrolling through her phone. Placed in the coffee table was a pizza box, his usual beer, a glass of wine, and box of chicken wings as well as a couple of paper plates.

“Didn’t feel like cooking today huh?” he jeered as he placed a hand on his hip, the other hand holding his briefcase for work. Diverting her eyes from her phone to the man in front she grinned at him, “No, but I felt like having pizza. Maybe we could watch a movie while eating?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go change quickly,” he told her and she nodded. Andy then went up the stairs, taking two steps at a time to do so. Somehow there was this part of him that was incredibly excited at the thought of being physically close with Y/N. but he just shook his head at the thought and claimed that he was just excited to unwind the week’s stress with food, beer, and a movie.

Heading down after he dressed in more comfortable clothes he asked, “Alright, what are we watching?” Y/N shrugged as she moved to open the box of pizza, “Want a slice?” Andy nodded as he grabbed the remote and thanked her, “You heard about the hippie who burnt his mouth on the pizza?”

While holding a pizza slice of her own she looked at him and tilted her head to the side, her face being a combination of confusion and curiosity, one that Andy found charming. The bearded man had his face in faux seriousness as he continued, “He ate it before it was considered cool.”

Upon realizing the joke, Y/N let out a few giggles — real giggles, Any took note. “Okay not gonna lie, that was good,” she took a bite, “ Haven’t heard that one before.” Saying that made Andy feel proud, somehow his lame dad jokes made this brilliant woman laugh. “You wanna watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off?”

She nodded at his suggestion, “Yeah why not? Haven’t watched that in a while.” And so they both began to watch it as they ate and drank.

As they watched the film their occasional laughs were the only sound emitted from the two. As Andy was grabbing for a few slices or chicken wings, he found himself scooting closer beside Y/N, who didn’t really mind it and instead found having him close was comforting. The wartm that seeped past his clothed thigh and on to her bare skin as she was only wearing shorts made her feel safe. And somehow Andy’s arm found itself draped across the couch, almost touching Y/N’s shoulders, his fingers almost touching her. When she did move to drink her wine her skin touched the tips of his fingers rested on her shoulders and Andy who drank some of his beer as well looked alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I can move away if you’d like,” he said as he began to remove his hand from where it was comfortable in her shoulder. “No, it’s fine,” she assured him a little too quickly, “I mean, I don’t really mind. I’m not the type of person who hates hugging so I don’t really mind at all.”

She couldn’t prevent herself from physically cringing with what she said and how stupid it must have soounded like; but the man beside her didn’t think so based on his eyes crinkled in laughter. His arm then dropped from being on her shoulders and settled itself on her waist and pulled him as close as they could be sitting beside, “Well I hope you won’t mind if I do this then?”

She felt herself flutter with how smooth the man was and just silently assured him by placing her head against his shoulder, both turning their attention back to the movie.

As the end credits rolled, they both were full and were just now finishing up the last of the drinks. Y/N fiddled with her fingers as she had an internal debate about whether or not she should bring up her conversation with Joan earlier.

“You alright, Y/N?” Andy noticed how her actions might have indicated how she was nervous, a complete opposite to how she was earlier. Setting down his empty bottle on the coffee table, he turned to her and grasped both her hands in his, loving the feel of her soft hands against his calloused ones.

“It’s just, there’s something I need to ask,” she sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if it would have helped her say it better, “No, not really ask, but tell you. I don't know.” Her hesitation and uncertainty was something Andy easily sensed and he did his best to calm her down by rubbing their hands together and telling her she could tell him anything.

“So after work, I headed to the grocery to grab your beer, right? Then I saw Joan there, I don’t know her surname though. Anyway, she warned me to be careful of you because you’re unpredictable and that your family had caused a ruckus?” She ended her encounter with the woman by looking up at Andy, and the latter was surprised that there was no disgust in her tone and facial expressions; but more of worry? As if she was worried that rumors were spreading around about him and his family.

He stopped rubbing her hands and instead settled with fiddling with them, “I think it’s best if you found out now,” he began before taking a deep breath, “Almost two years ago, Ben Rifkin, a fourteen year old boy, died. At the time I was the assistant district attorney and was assigned to investigate. When fingerprints of my son, Jacob, were found in the body everyone assumed he did it.”

“Did he?” Y/N question when she noticed it took Andy sometime to continue with his story. Shaking his head no he picked up where he left off the story, “He didn’t, his fingerprints were there because he just saw the body, panicked and didn’t call the police. A man who had a record for groping and stalking kids did it. But Joan, Ben’s mom was still convinced that Jacob had something to do with her son’s death even after it was proved that he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry about that Andy, she has no right to name you and your family those things,” Y/N was quick to comfort him. But he only chuckled sadly, “Does she not?” She could feel that there was more Andy wanted to say so she remained silent, “During the trial and investigation, they were fully convinced Jacob did it because of me, of my father.”

He said those three words with so much hate and disdain, “My estranged father, rather, he raped and killed some student many years ago. Now he’s serving a life sentence for it. They claimed that I had this murder gene and somehow Jacob got it too, hence why he killed Ben.”

After hearing his explanation, Y/N now understood why Joan claimed Andy was unpredictable. She also empathize with the mother who lost her son and understood why she felt this indifference towards the Barbers; but she still believed that maybe Joan would someday accept that the what they’ve been believing — that Jacob had any involvement for her son’s death — is nothing but mere suspicion that was proved false.

“I mean, I understand why she holds this sort of grudge against you or your family,” Andy’s heart dropped at what Y/N said and loosened his grip on her hands, prepared to hear her say how she wanted to leave his house that somewhat felt like home ever since she came, “But it’ll take time for her to accept the truth and disregard the suspicion she had. I believe in what you say and do think that you are harmless.”

Her statement had Andy looking up from where he was staring at their hands and looked up at her with relief in his face, “What?” He could not help but sound meek as he asked so; but he felt the opposite, he felt empowered and invincible upon knowing that there was someone on his side for once.

Deciding to do something risky, Y/N leaned forward to plant a gentle and comforting kiss on Andy’s forehead, “What happened to Joan’s son was horrible, yes. But if you say, and an investigation says your son had nothing to do with it, then I believe it. And murder gene? The only thing that a gene can pass down to us is sickness,” she joked, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere and was pleased to see how Andy laughed softly at it,”You’re not what your father did, okay? The only way to define you is through what you say, think, and do.”

Andy smiled as he stared at her lovingly, “And if I think and tell you that you’re such a beautiful person, inside and out, and that it's been great having you here live with me?” She laughed as she rested her cheek against her hand and sassed at him, “I’d call bullshit ‘cause you probably used that line with your wife.”

He just rolled his eyes as he moved her around so she could comfortably lay her head against his chest as he wrapped his muscular arms around her frame. “Well then I’m just gonna have to do my best to prove it to you the entire time you’re here then.”

Turning her head so she could face him, “Well joke’s on you, I plan to be here for quite a long time.” The butterflies in Andy’s stomach then went wild at what she said, but his composure allowed him to answer back with, “I don’t mind that at all, honey.”

Laying a kiss on her forehead, he then teased her about the grin she had on her face and two then talked the rest of the night away.

part two

[xxtraord1nary]

Adore You

𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖: 𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙴𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚢 𝚡 𝚏!𝚖𝚌 (𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎 𝚆𝚎𝚜𝚝)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷,𝟶𝟹𝟶

𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜.

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙰 𝚜𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚔. 𝚂𝚘 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎.

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @katkart122 @missmiimiie @romewritingshop @lucas-rennells @custaroonie @actuallybored @maurine07

Mornings at the Ramsey’s during off days were quite unpredictable contrary to Ethan's preference for routine which heavily contrasted with his lovers stark spontaneity. She’d either sleep well into the afternoon or she’d be awake at 7 a.m. following some cooking tutorial or almost always smothering Jenner with kisses and cuddles to which he loved more than anything, or with endless treats to his little hearts content much to Ethan’s dismay. ‘He spoiled enough already’ he more than often argues. Almost always her attempts at making breakfast fail miserably. She somehow was only bad at breakfast. She isn’t the chef in the household and rather enjoys her permanent position as expert taste tester. So he’ll dutifully take over and cook some elaborate feast that will unfortunately never include pancakes but thankfully as well because as good as the fluffy clouds of deliciousness are Ethan’s suck. And they’ll never get better no matter how easy the task is. After ruining the pancakes his rookie wasted no time in reaming him to her best.

“Alright rookie we’re having...anything other than pancakes.”

“It’s literally just powder and water, how on earth can you screw that up?” She teases with a knowing smile while trying to poke his sides and slowly coaxing that beautiful laugh of his out.

“I went to med school and not a culinary institute rookie.” He sighs while trying unsuccessfully to hide his grin as he basked in the sweet harmony that was her carefree melodious laughter.

“Yeah, judging by the charcoal taste, I can certainly tell.”

“Alright that’s it.” She takes off as he embarks on chasing her throughout their shared apartment and he has her when he grabs onto his white t-shirt donning her glorious figure; although she’s insisted and he’s accepted that his clothes are their clothes.

“Say your sorry.” He demands holding her arms above her head while attacking the sensitive and feminine column of her slender neck with his teeth and tongue.

“Okay!” She relented letting out a sound between a moan and a giggle.

“I’m sorry your pancakes are so damn soggy.” She managed to rasp out before he began to tickle her silly.

Tangling his large veiny hands into her mane of curls he ravishes her full pink lips that he’s found the utmost comfort in. Tongue sweeping past her pouty bottom lip he invites himself in the warm and welcoming home of her mouth. Biting down on her bottom lip coaxes a long and sensual moan from her and a groan as he hikes her leg up his waist and places her against one of their floor to ceiling windows.

“Charlotte Naelie Ramsey, you have no idea how much I adore you.” And she truly didn’t. She could never truly grasp the depth of his affections for her, the way all his happiness resided in her beautiful smiles or her angelic laughter. His entire world was placed right in front of him, it was all her. In the way she did simple things like mindlessly rubbing her manicured nails through his soft dark brown locs or the little pecks she always gave him passing. Or how she always made sure he ate throughout their long work days or her simply plopping herself in his lap at any given time and feeding him the newest goodie sienna baked. He simply loved her presence and the safe haven that was the love of his life. He had it bad, as Bryce might say but damn he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t love it.

But where he loved her she loved him more. She loved his protective nature and his genuineness, and how no matter what he was always was thinking of her in everything he did. Like when he passed a flower shop on his way home from Providence after visiting his dad and made sure to grab her some tulips and tiger lilies and her favorite chocolate turtles just to see the way her lustrous honey brown eyes lit up at the small mindless gesture that just seemed like second nature to him. And she loved the way she always felt appreciated by him even if it was something as simple as organizing his desk for him making it much easier to navigate her burdening workload or her leaving adorable flirty pick up lines in his lunch she always packed for him. Last week's one said,

“Are you a magician? Because when I look at you, everyone else seems to disappear.” Cheesy but always seemed to put a smile on his face that anyone could see came from the woman who was on his mind all day and every night. What seemed impossible but only made him miss her more.

Returning to the present moment with his rookie and coming back from his reminiscing he was only stirred back to life with her sweet words.

“Couldn’t ever be more than I love you.” She placed sweet kisses all over his face. From his chin to the outer corners of his eyes struck with lines from his constant smiling due to the ever present ray of sunshine in his life, down to his nose and over his cheeks and finally stopping at his chin which raised high into a grin from the affection he could never get enough of.

“Impossible.” He countered rubbing his rough calloused hands up and down her smooth thighs and then to the wide curvature of her glorious hips.

“Oh really, wanna convince me of that?” She targeted back with a salacious grin peeking out through her mock tough exterior.

“Gladly Mrs. Ramsey.” And with that he whisked her to their bedroom and wasted no time in shutting the door throwing her to the bed in a mess of rushed laughter and lust. A morning with the Ramsey’s not predictable but most certainly enjoyable. With the soothing smell of lemon citrus candles and bacon wafting in the air of the home and the comforting warmth coming from the vent coupled with the sensual giggles and pleasurable sounds coming from the husband and wife everything just felt right.

This was their normal and they loved it.

[speedypandaweasel]

One Big Adventure - a Wilford Warfstache and Abe story (Non-Ship) (2,914 Words)

Thank you for the request @canceltheact! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you would like to submit a request, see the information at the Masterlist and submit through the Q and A!

PSA - THIS IS NOT A SHIP oke, let us begin...

Dazed images fog up the minds of two *very* hungover men as they stagger their way up to the apartment. Abe fumbles his way through the door and over strewn clothes. He continues on and manages to put together the kaleidoscope of scenery that is right in front of him. To his left, a saggy sofa sits and a cheap TV dangerously hangs off the stripping wallpaper by a thread. To his right, a grimy kitchen is on display which even the worst chef in the world wouldn't waste his time in. The other man, however, is blabbering away, slurring his words like a car on an icy motorway. "HA!, I tell *hick* you Abe, I'm so glad I remembered you, you see *hick*, I can't even remember where I put my-" Aaaand he's gone. His body moulds into the cushions that poorly support his droopy frame, and his scuffed platform boots dangle over the side. Abe smiles, slightly soberer than before. Who would have thought that this stock still of a man, whose only aesthetics were the colour beige and veterans, would somehow have a goofy, lighter side to him? All the criminals he's met and caught among the years...

Hold up, has he met anyone? He can't remember any experiences where he HAS met any, so why did he think that? Hm, must be the Tequila talking. Abe hopscotches over the empty Wine and Martini bottles that are decorated across the stained carpet. Damm, William has not been taking care of himself. Mind you, neither has he so he can't really say anything. He arrives into the walk-in kitchen and opens a dusty cupboard. His tired eyes only meet with shot and tumbler glasses.

How much does this Man drink!? Shuffling used plates and greasy cutlery out of the way, he fills a scotch glass with water. Dowsing the liquid felt like heaven. His exhausted physique felt like a body that's been stuck in the desert for a considerable amount of time and didn't know it needed water to survive. Oh, now he feels the headache coming on.

Reader, you know when water tastes funny? It's because your brain hasn't been receiving enough H20 because you've been drinking too many energy drinks. Yeah, that feeling is exactly what Abe is feeling right now. CONTINUING ON!

The scotch glass watches from the draining board whilst the Detective plays the quietest game of the floor is lava, whilst the moustached man is making much more noise. He manages to reach a corridor which he thinks leads towards the bedroom and tiptoes down the tight hall to find a vacant room. On the way, he passes another room. It was Barnum's. His mind was split in two, Does he go in? Or stay out? Through the crack in the door, the catastrophe has indeed spread into his sleeping quarters. A mountain of flamboyant disco clothes gathers dust in front of his Chester draws, the bed's not made and more liquor bottles are having a social gathering on top. Oh William, you may be a murderer, but you need to prioritise yourself. He takes a last look at his passed out flatmate down the hallway, before shutting the guest bedroom door. Grey. It's all he's met with. Much like his exterior. He slips his shoes off and starts to unbutton his off-white shirt. he runs a hand down his chest and over the scar. How the Hell did he survive that? He can't be bothered to go into it right now, he's too tired. He snuggles into bed and does the infamous cold bed dance.

You know the one.

Abe gets out of the tempting bed once more and walks back into the living room. He creeps over to William, the man's mouth catching flies. He carefully takes his enormous shoes off and places them on the floor. Barnum's mismatch socks disappear underneath the blanket. "Night William."

~ A gorgeous smell of Breakfast wanders its way through the apartment and Abe groggily wakes up. His eyes peel open and with a yawn, he trudges through to the living room. Remembering from earlier this morning, he needed to position himself for his dance routine around the non-existent floor. "What are you doing my main man?" Barnum brightly asks, a hearty chuckle accompanies the question. Resided in the pristine kitchen, his big, strong hand holds a Skillet and two China plates are centred on the pebble grey marble island. Abe, however, is currently squatting as though he was playing a game of leapfrog with some imaginary friends. The Detective goes to jump but then is taken back at the sight. The apartment is now spick and span, no more Wine Bottles, no more strewn clothes. The windows are tied wide open and it overlooks the sketchy neighbourhood that they reside in. "How did you do this?" "Do what?" "You know, clean up this quickly?" Barnum checks his watch. It's 7:30 am "Oh well you see, I ironed a nice pair of jeans and found a lovely dandelion coloured shirt. Accompanied by some rainbow braces I think I look quite dashing don't you think so?" "No William, I-I mean the Apartm-AAH!" Abe clings his hand over his head, damm this- "Headache is killing you?" William slides a glass of water over with an Aspirin pill. "And no, I didn't clean the apartment, she did." Wilford looks- wait, why are you looking at me!? "Anywho, we need to get going my slightly hungover companion! But first, breakfast!" Wilford sets a serving plate down of a full English Breakfast: Sausage, an Egg, two cooked Tomatoes, Bacon rashes, Baked Beans and a slice of Buttered Toast. Wow. He didn't know William could cook? The two men got stuck in right away and the TV is turned on. Two bright and very similar faces appear on the screen "Badgers the secret Killer?... And now for the weather, Jim?"

The camera pans to, what they believe, is Jim. Their face resembles a deer in headlights. "I swear, they don't know what they're doing. It's hilarious!" The Detective says with a mouthful of Toast. Barnum laughs, wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes a swig of his Orange juice. "Right! I mean, who is their boss anyway?!" The men eat and laugh their way through their plates talking about what topics they would cover if they were reporters. After a while, they both recline back into their bar stools and the cook starts to tidy up the dirty dishes. "Oh, no, let me do it. It's the least I can do." "You're alright my man, I've got this. Besides, you need to freshen up!" "But whe-'" "First door on your left"

They share a light chuckle. "Thanks Wilford, I really appreciated that," Abe says before going back down the hallway, whilst Wilford rolls his sleeves up and starts to clean the less-silver cutlery.

He smiles. That's the first time he's ever said that to him. "No problem Abe."

~

The passenger door slams shut on the Detective's Vintage SUV and Wiford pulls out a gigantic map from his pocket. This map includes hundreds of paths scrawled with crayons and a hint of Martini can be smelt.

"Are you sure, you know where you're going?" Abe questions. Judging by what that map reads, they are going to get lost very easily.

"Of course I know where I'm going! I am Wilford Motherloving Warftsache after all." A pang of guilt hits the Detective, he genuinely can't remember who he was.

"Ok, Wil, you can drive."

After playing at least 3 rounds of rock paper scissors, or when Wilford won, Abe hesitantly let the murderer drive. God knows where though.

Wilford excitedly thrust the keys into the ignition. He couldn't wait for what the day entailed!

"Careful Willford, you're gonna break the keys!" Abe says through gritted teeth.

"Oh pah-lease! I know how to drive" he retaliates. His brown boot floors the pedal and reverses straight into the iron fence.

"Yep, it's working."

The Detectives face, now pale, grips tighter onto his seatbelt and his feet are glued to the floor. "Wil, of course it's working. Now, step on the ga- nope, that's the brakes Wilford."

Pedestrians quiver in fear as they see a horribly driven brown vehicle screech to a stop and then start again. They have to clamp down on their ears as the monster of a car drives past them down the alleyway, swerving left and right much like the driver's speech the other night.

The SUV survives to the end of the road and dents a stop sign perched, well once, straight on the kerb.

"Will, which route are we taking?" Abe asks as he takes the map from the driver's hands.

"It's the one marked Highway of Life, it's gonna be a good one, trust you me."

"Well, this has got off to a surprising start so why not go for an adventure?" Abe says. He's given up at this point.

~

"LIFE IS A HIIIGHHWWAYY! I WWAAANNNA RRIIDDEE IIT ALLL NIIGGHTT LOOOOONNGG!" The two pop stars start belting out of the car as Wilford drives them to their last stop. Who would have thought that two polar opposites positions of the law would be in the same car together, let alone blasting Disney songs out of the car.

Wilford's hair whips away from his face as the SUV's top winds down.

"LIFE NEEDS A BIT OF MADNESS EH ABE?"

"HELL YEAH IT DOES"

The Afternoon sun blazes down onto their blacked-out sunglasses and the Golden Gate bridge paints a picture for the Detective that prescribes him with a carefree attitude.

Life was his to choose and he was here for it.

~

The SUV turns off the Highway onto Richmond Street. The Afternoon sun glowing dimmer.

Just in time.

Now reader, if you haven't read my WKM Tumblr Song series, then you won't understand this next section.

The SUV passes bountiful shrubberies and picket fences. Cherry Blossom dust drift its way into the car and Wilford starts to tear up.

"You ok Buddy?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." After all his years of interrogation, Abe knows that that answer was a lie. Yet, he didn't want to push it.

The car comes to a halt and is parked underneath a summer coated oak tree.

"Why'd we stop?"

"I want to show you something."

Abe opens the vintage door and steps out. In front of him, wildflowers and grass sway on the cliffs breeze and small pink flowers grow on its edge. Overhead, a sea glistens with sunlight rays and pink and amber hues dust the sky.

Man, this is enough to make a grown man cry.

The cars driver door can be heard shutting and a shadow walks up behind him. An intimate silence roots itself between the two men.

"You may be wondering why I brought you here."

Abe nods, still looking forward, yet intriguingly listening.

The man sighs, "I used to come here all the time as a young lad. We used to have picnics and dance until dawn. We were so free up here. Away from life, away from Duty, and she was away from Him, that was all that mattered. "

His voice breaks.

"But things change, people change and suddenly, I couldn't do that anymore.

That's why I want you to see it."

Wilford wanders over to their spot and picks up one of the pink flowers sprouting through the grass.

"You may have thought of us as the scum of the Earth Detective. But there are two sides to every story."

The Detective joins the Murderer and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Wilford chuckles. The last time he was here, he was completely and utterly alone. He was like- like a freshly born fawn still trying to find his legs into this world that didn't make sense.

But now...but now things are looking a little brighter.

"If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, just name it."

"You can't do anything really, it's just the way this messed up world works."

The two friends sit down in the grass, making fresh new imprints into the cliff edge, next to two fading ones.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure" "How many people have I killed?"

...

That question lingers in the air for an uncomfortably long time. All that can be heard are the lapping of the waves below them and the occasional swallow talking in the trees.

...

"I don- don't know Wilford," Abe breaks the silence, "I should know, but I-I don't.

...

Abe looks at Wilford, his broken and tear-stained eyes manage to glance back before returning to look out at the sunset.

Abe must do something here. But what? He said himself that nothing can be done so what can he do?

He reminisces on the day they were reunited. So much anger, so much confusion. But Wil was so cheerful, not a care in the world!

Now look at him.

And it was all his fault. If only he didn't get involved...

A second flashes by and Abe does something he should have done the second Will did it.

He hugs Him.

...

"I'm sorry Will."

...

Moments cling on for seems like forever and the embrace is broken. The two tear-stained friends look up.

The afternoon sun has now gone beneath the horizon and is replaced with the all too familiar twilight scenery, which glows softly for miles and miles, each star a lantern that has been entrusted with keeping something special.

"There was another reason why I wanted to bring you here."

Wilford wipes his eyes with his sleeve. "Do you see that star, the big one?"

"Yeah" "That's the Evening Star. That Star is the reason why I have hope. And now I want to share that hope with you. I know we got off the wrong foot but since we're in the same boat now, I think it's time I opened up about where I've actually been."

Abe swallows, this man is truly broken, and he can't do anything about it.

"Thank you for trusting me." "We're not done yet. It's your turn!" "What?" "Make a wish." Cautiously, the Detective slowly stands up from his permanent grassy imprint and walks towards the cliff's edge. The man looks around and sees only patches of shrubbery and wildflowers.

And his newfound friend encouraging him to proceed.

He clasps his hands together and wishes hard. His eyes scrunch together as he becomes a child once more as well. His once tight shoulders have finally become relaxed. After so many years of searching for answers, he doesn't need to worry any more.

A single tear is swept away from the Murderers face as he watches on from the patch of grass. He remembers that feeling and the dream he wished for all those years ago. Yet now, his wish is slowly changing.

Granted, he can't remember who he was but bully does he know what he wants to be. And being here for him, at this very moment, is a wonderful way to start it.

Abe's hands fall to his side and he stares out onto the ever stretching view. His feet are glued to the spot and his mind is only fixated on that one goal. Wilford slowly joins his side, already having a hunch on what he dearly wants.

"What did you wish for?" The Murderer asks.

The Detective huckles, "Now if I told you, it wouldn't come true, would it?"

"Very true my friend."

Little did the men know that their newly found wishes were the same.

"Don't you mean, Best Friend?"

CRACK

The heartwarming moment is abruptly stopped by the sky blasting wide open and millions of sounds exploding across the cliff. The light breeze has rapidly sped up into a storm and is propelling thick gusts upon the two.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL NOW!?" Wilford yells at the hole, completely unfazed.

"YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS!?" Abe yells at his Friend.

"OF COURSE I DO, IT'S TIME FOR WORK."

"WORK!? SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE A JOB!?"

"WE ALL HAVE A JOB - WE'RE ACTORS! I'LL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING IF WE DON'T GET SPLIT UP."

"IF WE DONT GET SPLIT UP!? WHERE ARE WE GOING!?" "I HAVE NO IDEA! BUT THAT'S THE FUN OF IT! AFTER THREE, WE WALK IN."

"ARE YOU CRAZY WE'RE GONNA FALL!"

"TRUST ME, WE WON'T."

Wilford grabs Abe's hand and he stares at him. Abe stares back, fear-stricken. Finally, he nods.

"TOGETHER?" "TOGETHER."

"ONE"

"TWO"

"THREE!!!!" The two Actors charge straight over the cliff and into the blinding light.

~

Wilford finds himself in some kind of leather chair with neon lights surrounding him. A script in one and his prop gun in his other.

No pants on, no wonder he feels too comfortable.

He scans his scene and sees his co-actor, Kathryn, running her lines on the other side of the room.

A chair sits opposite him and behind that, a red T-30 minutes until showtime sign is displayed for him.

Abe, however, isn't needed on set yet. His adventure hasn't begun.

But both of their characters will have to cross at one point or another, it's just a matter of time. Yet for a fact, no one can edit their Friendship; Their Joint Wish.

Because, as they say, Life is a road that you're travelling on, when there's one day here, and the next day gone.

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Carefree Highway (1/2)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, Mild Violence, Blood, Mean Bo

Description: You accidently let a victim escape and Bo has it out for you. You’re sure that no one can rescue you from his rage. 

You sat trembling on the bottom steps on the front porch of the Sinclair home. The sun set hours ago and all the brothers were still out chasing after a stray tourist. All her friends had been taken care of, but she managed to elude all of you. It was quite possible she made it out of town and it was your fault.

You were washing dishes in the kitchen, hoping to avoid the unpleasant scenes outside. You heard the door crash open and wild footsteps skid to a halt at the entrance to the kitchen. Startled, you turned to find an unfamiliar woman, chest heaving and panic lighting her eyes. Your eyes never left her as your hands fumbled for a small knife to defend yourself. You clutched the blade with both hands in a shaking grip,

“S-stay back!” your voice cracking, conviction breaking as it did.

The woman put her hands up in defense, but she could see right through you. You both knew you weren’t going to use that knife on her. You didn’t have the guts. Whatever killer instinct the others had, you lacked; or she’d already be dead. She took a step toward you and then another. You didn’t move. She looked you right in the eyes neither scared nor angry. You were almost sure what you saw in her eyes was pity. With every step she took, you thought surely you could do this. You had to do it. With just one quick lunge this would be over. It would be quick and easy. But the closer she came, the more you could see the freckles on her cheeks and the brown in her green eyes. You couldn’t do it.

As she was almost past you, another set of booming footsteps approached. Bo crashed into the kitchen to see you holding a laughably small knife to his prey. He paused to see what you would do. He’d told you it was time to start pulling your weight. This was your chance to prove your worth.

“The hell are you waiting for? Gut her!” Bo hissed. Your eyes darted between him and the woman in front of you as air got caught in your throat. Your chest tightened as the blood rushing in your ears drowned out all other sounds and thoughts. Overwhelmed, you suddenly backed yourself against the counter, gasping for breath as the knife fell to the floor. Your hands moved to cover your ears in an effort to silence the chaos in your head. The woman wasted not a single second before bolting past you to the door toward her escape. Bo’s eyes snapped to her as he gave chase.

Bo sprinted after her, but as soon as he was out the door, she was nowhere in sight. He stormed back into the house. He grabbed your arms in a bruising grip.

“Why the hell didn’t you kill her? She was standing right in front of you! You had one job! What good are you if you can’t even do one fuckin’ thing right?” Bo seethed, shaking you back and forth, nails digging deeper into your flesh with every word, “Now we gotta turn the place upside down and hope that bitch doesn’t make it outside the city ‘fore we find her. You better pray Lester’s actually drivin’ ‘round the edge of town like he’s supposed to because if she gets away, it’s gonna be you that’s takin’ her place. You got that?”

Bo finally released his hold and let you sink to the floor in a pile of tears. He scoffed as he rolled his eyes at your pathetic state. He stalked out of the home to begin his search for the woman you let escape.

Now, all you could do was wait to suffer Bo’s wrath. You didn’t mean to let her go and make things difficult. You really tried to help. You sincerely wanted to contribute to the town, but you just couldn’t do it the same way Bo and Vincent did. You weren’t a killer and you knew now that you could never be one. You were sure that Bo knew this. You began to fear that even if they found the woman, he would still kill you. If you ran, he’d catch you. There was no escaping Bo’s rage, not when you were the cause of all his problems. No one could protect you from the hell he was about to rain down on you. Your hands still cradled your head and you rocked back and forth, trying to quell the dread in your stomach.

You were so ashamed as your thoughts moved to Lester, patrolling the edge of town. You didn’t mean to bring him into this. He had become your closest, dearest friend within just days of meeting him. He’d been nothing but kind and considerate to you and you put him in danger. What if he got hurt? What if Bo took his anger out on him too? Your heart sank thinking about how you knew Lester didn’t like partaking in his brothers’ schemes much more than you, even if he didn’t say it. Now, your inaction had likely forced him to take part whether he wanted to or not.

Off in the distance, you could see headlights making their way up toward the house. You held your breath as Bo’s truck came to a violent halt. He threw his door open and slammed it shut behind him. He was alone. She escaped and now you were dead.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself!” Bo hissed as he ripped you up from the stairs and threw you back onto the gravel, “You happy with this fuckin’ mess you made? All of this coulda been avoided if you just did what I said! But you couldn’t even do that, could you? What the hell are we doin’ keepin’ you ‘round if you’re not gonna help ‘round here? Fuckin’ useless waste!” Bo grabbed you by your collar and forced you to look him in his cold, soulless eyes.  

“P-please, Bo! I didn’t mean to do this! I’m sorry!” you pleaded as burning tears rapidly cascaded down your cheeks. “I never meant for this to happen!”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me! You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Couldn’t stand it here, so you let that slut go so she could send someone to rescue you! You wanted this to happen! You want me and my brothers locked up in a cell or dead! Say it!” Bo shouted, suddenly reeling back to hit you. You screwed your eye shut, bracing yourself, but the pain never came. You opened your eyes to see Vincent tugging on Bo’s shoulder, “What? No luck, I take it?”

“No.” Vincent murmured, releasing Bo’s shoulder. Bo lowered his hand, but still kept your shirt in an iron tight grip.

“That’s alright, I got another pretty little thing to take her place. Don’t I?” Bo said menacingly as he stroked your cheek, the poison in his words sending chills down your spine. You sent a pleading look at Vincent, silently begging him not to let Bo do this, but he cast his gaze to the side. There was no standing up to Bo, not now. “Let that bitch tell the pigs if she wants. We ain’t goin’ nowhere. Ain’t no one gonna save you.”

The sound of another truck pulling up the hill stopped Bo from saying anymore. All three of you turned to see Lester’s truck rolling up. Beyond his headlights, you could see the shadow of his head popping out from his window,

“Sorry I took so long!” he called. His cheery drawl cut through the violent atmosphere, allowing you to breathe a small sigh of relief. Lester was here. You always felt safer when he was nearby. “It took a while to get her in the truck and she kicked up fuss when she realized I was bringin’ her back.”

“The hell are ya on about?” Bo snapped, releasing your collar, letting you fall back onto the gravel. He moved towards Lester’s truck. The youngest Sinclair hopped out and opened up the passenger door to reveal the woman who you let escape, unconscious.

“The girl you was lookin’ for! I found her tryin’ to hitch a ride. Told her I was gonna take her to a hospital.” Lester said, “She clocked me pretty good, though. I laid on the brakes a little too hard and she hit her head on the dash.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Shit-pit boy did somethin’ right, for once.” Bo smirked. Lester’s smile faltered as his shoulders slumped at Bo’s backhanded compliment. Bo began to haul the woman out of the truck, “Vincent come take care of her.” Vincent moved to take the woman from Bo and effortlessly threw her over his shoulder. He made his way back to the basement without another word.

Lester immediately moved to where you were still on the ground and offered you a helping hand. He gently helped you to your feet, your eyes still glued to the ground. Truthfully, he had been worried about you. When Bo told him about what happened, he made it his mission to find the missing woman. He couldn’t let Bo punish you for this. You didn’t deserve it. He drove in endless circles until he finally found her. Even if he hated doing his brother’s bidding, he would do all of it without question if it meant protecting you from Bo’s rage. He dusted you off and rested a hand on your shoulder, concern cutting through his usually carefree exterior,

“Ya alright, Y/N?” Lester asked softly. You nodded ever so slightly as you wiped at your eyes, unable to trust your voice, “Everythin’s okay. Don’t gotta cry anymore.”

“Oh, I’ll give her plenty to cry ‘bout. This is her fault after all.” Bo hollered as he turned to where you were standing, “Christ, look at your fuckin’ face.”

“C’mon, Bo.” Lester said, barely audible. You moved your hands from your eyes to look at Lester for the first time. You gasped at his bloody nose. Before Lester could say anything, Bo snapped his eyes toward you,

“Ya see what that little bitch did! Ya let her get away and she attacks my brother!”

“Bo, don’t…” Lester pleaded, unheard once again.  

“I’m sorry! I just can’t do it, Bo! I’m not like you, I can’t kill anyone! Please don’t make me! I’ll do anything else!” you begged. Bo stalked toward you. With every step he took, you retreated, terrified to take your eyes off of him.

“I don’t wanna hear any fuckin’ excuses. You put my family on the line. ‘Sorry’ ain’t gonna cut it. You’re gonna regret lettin’ that slut go. You got my brother decked across the face so I’m gonna smack you a hell of a lot harder than that.” Bo seethed. He prepared to lunge at you, fists tightening, nostrils flaring like the predator he truly was, “You’re gonna pay, you little-”

“STOP IT, BO!” Lester shouted, forcing himself in front of you, stopping Bo in his tracks. You’d never heard Lester raise his voice before; and from the look on Bo’s face, neither had he. A dangerous silence fell over the scene. Bo could hardly fathom anyone challenging him, much less Lester.

“The hell did you say to me?” Bo hissed. Lester nearly gulped at his brother’s tone, but he took a shaky breath instead. No way was he going to win this fight, but he spoke anyway.

“I said stop.” He nervously reaffirmed, “It ain’t her fault. Let it go. Please.”

“Since when you tell me what to do?” Bo glowered with a snarl.

“I ain’t tryin’ to tell anyone anythin’. Just don’t want no one else gettin’ hurt, is all. ‘Sides, she said she was sorry, Bo. It was an accident. You don’t gotta do this.” Lester said with only the slightest tremor in his voice. You cowered behind him, astounded at his bravery but fearing for his life.

Bo shifted his eyes between you and Lester, trying to decide his next move. He fixed his gaze on Lester as he slowly moved to circle around to get to you. It seemed like more of an attempt to test his brother than to harm you. Lester felt crushed under the weight of Bo’s prolonged glare, but still he matched each of his steps, blocking his brother’s path to you. Bo stopped and smirked, chilling you to your core.

“You’re really gonna protect her after all the trouble she’s caused?” Bo asked, almost amused at Lester’s display. Lester rolled back his shoulders and straightened his spine. He wasn’t going to back down this time, no matter how much Bo scared him. His brow was furrowed for the first time you’d known him. He was serious and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“She ain’t caused any more trouble than any of us cause each other half the time. Ya used to hit me upside the head and give me bloody noses every other week when we was kids. Don’t make like this is anythin’ to get heated over.” Lester argued, “No one escaped, we’re all in one piece, and the cops ain’t any wiser. So, leave her alone.” Lester demanded. He met Bo’s icy glare, shaking like a leaf tossed in front of a locomotive, but standing his ground nonetheless. If Bo wasn’t livid, he might’ve been impressed. He scoffed as he looked over Lester’s shoulder, right at you.

“You better consider yourself real fuckin’ lucky that my brother decided to grow a pair.” Bo warned, “But he won’t always be here to protect you from me. You fuck up again and no one will be able to. Got that?” you silently nodded, frozen in place behind Lester.

Bo shoved his way past Lester and back into the house. Not taking any chances, Lester followed along, herding Bo away from you. Bo glared at the two of you over his shoulder before slamming the door to punctuate his exit.

With that, Lester exhaled the breath he’d been holding the entire time as his shoulders slumped forward in relief. If Bo had started swinging, he had no idea what he was going to do. His smile returned as he sighed once again,

“Whew, that sure was somethin’, wasn’t it?” he said, turning to face you. You didn’t respond. With the tension broken, you broke too. You buried your face in your hands, sobs ripping through your lungs, ugly and raw. Lester fumbled for a way to help you, “C’mon now, shh, it’s alright. Bo ain’t gonna hurt ya, I swear. His bark’s worse than his bite. Mostly.”

“I’m s-sorry…” you managed to force out between desperate gasps for air. Lester looked at you sympathetically. He put a clumsy arm over your shoulders and moved you to sit on the stairs next to him.

“It’s okay, don’t be sorry! I know it was just an accident!” Lester soothed as he rubbed your shoulder. He felt helpless, he just wanted to make you feel better but he didn’t know what to say, “Everyone messes up! Take it from me! Once when me, Bo, and Vincent, was out catchin’ fish for dinner, I tripped and knocked the whole bucket back into the lake! Bo nearly skinned me alive for that! I had to spend the rest of night catchin’ fish by myself in the cold!”  

His anecdote, though appreciated, was left without a response. He knew there was no cheering you up right now. You just had to let it out. He let out a sad sigh as he drew you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your frame in a warm hug, the way he wished someone held him when he cried growing up. As you continued to sob into your hands, Lester comforted you as best as he could, offering little reassurances here and there. He let you cry to your heart’s content, keeping you company through the storm. Eventually, your cries died down into small hiccups, but you still kept your face obstructed by your hands. Lester squeezed your shoulder,

“Ya alright, Y/N?” he asked gently.

“No. I’m so sorry, Lester. I’m a mess and I don’t know what to do.” you whimpered. You’d never been more afraid. If Lester hadn’t stepped in, you weren’t sure you would still be breathing right now. “You’re hurt and Bo’s so angry…”

“Hey, don’t worry ‘bout me none. It looks a lot worse than it feels. And look – the bleedin’ already stopped! Look!” Lester gently coaxed you to look up at him. You dropped your hands from your eyes to see Lester with his classic goofy smile, beaming through the dried blood. You winced at the damage, but couldn’t contain a small smile at Lester’s unrestrained optimism, “I think she did me a favor. Got me a nose job and didn’t even have to pay nothin’.”

“Lester!” you tried to scold him, but you couldn’t stop from laughing. Only Lester could make you laugh when you had been crying your heart out. The icy daggers left by Bo’s unforgiving glower were swiftly melted away by Lester’s sweet brown eyes, radiating warmth like whiskey.

“There’s that smile. Now, don’t that feel better? Suits ya better.” Lester said grinning ear to ear. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a mostly clean bandana. He carefully wiped at your eyes to dry the stray tears still running down your cheeks. Your heart jumped in your chest as he did this. Your eyes closed involuntarily, cherishing his gentleness after being treated so roughly. Even after the signs of your sadness had been scrubbed away, he continued rubbing all over your face to continue teasing some laughter out of you, “Hang on, think I missed a spot!”

“Okay, okay! I’m not sad anymore! I surrender, Lester!” you said through your laughter. Lester smiled as he handed the bandana over to you,

“That’s more like it.” He said “Sorry about the bandana, I’d give ya a tissue, but this is all I got. Ya can hold on to it though, case ya need it again.”

“Thanks, Lester. For everything. You don’t know how much it means.” You said, clutching the piece of fabric in your hands. You glanced up at him, taking in his bloody face you decided to return the favor. You gingerly moved to wipe the dried blood from under his nose, careful not to hurt him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His eyes fixated on your face as you tended to him, awestruck. His pupils were blown looking at you and his heart skipped about fifty beats at your touch. He wanted to say you didn’t have to do this, but he stopped himself. Just once he wanted to be selfish with the care you were offering. When you succeeded in removing most of the blood, you tucked the bandana in your pocket, “I’ll clean this up and get it back to you.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Lester said dreamily. You both sat in contented silence for a moment before Lester spoke up, “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

“Where are we going?” you asked curiously. Lester stood and offered his hand once again.

“You’ll love it, trust me!” He said. You didn’t need any more than that.

[waukrife]

Unspeakable AU

It started as sheer pragmatism. Binks had another angle on the Jedi’s ‘chosen one’ after all, and access to a certain Senator Amidala, who seemed to have less and less time for her old mentor as the years passed.

But now, months into the ‘arrangement’ and alone in a non-descript speeder heading deeper into the lower range of Coruscant’s upper levels, his thoughts spun away from him like the buildings blurring as he drove past.

He tells himself- has to tell himself, and increasingly often these days- he’s doing this for the empire. His empire. It will be glorious, like the Sith of Old, before their erosion and weakness, the loss of everything that made them great.

Plagueis at least had shared his creativity, if not the true scale of his vision. But Plagueis was dead and now Sidious was truly Master of the Sith. Soon, he would be Master of all. This...distraction…was merely a temporary indignity. He was doing this for greatness, for ultimate power, for the long and mighty future of the galaxy under his watchful gaze.

For now, something else held his focus. Someone. Representative Binks was eye-catching, after all.

He tried to banish the thought, but his iron control was alarmingly lacking in that regard, of late. It unsettled him; some tasks to ensure his reign were unpleasant. Most, rather. Far fewer were unpleasant for him, and none truly disturbed him as this did.  He liked to watch a careful plan fall into place, people playing into his trap, thinking themselves superior in their petty squabbles, when in reality they were but puppets, and he, holding the strings, distained it all even as he revelled in the power.  

Nothing could unnerve him. Nothing surprised him. Not when some hired scum would turn on him, or try to. Not when a victim would crack, babbling and pleading to tell him whatever he wanted to know.

Not when a pretty young thing, often from some soft planet without his own’s core of durasteel, thought they could manipulate him for wealth or power.

‘Representative’ Binks may seem unpredictable. But Sidious had been certain he was just like the others, at the core of it. He hadn’t entirely planned to go along with the sham, but… Binks had his uses. It didn’t do to estrange a potential tool, or so he had told himself when something stopped him from pulling away.

He rarely got to be so involved in his work. Even the type he did himself, when he had to see something done properly. This was different, a more challenging pretence to construct, so unlike himself, with no use elsewhere. Yet, he mused, it was rewarding to see all the layers, the pretence on each side, Binks’ awareness of only half the game even as he doubtless thought himself winning.

Indeed, the Gungan had put up an elaborate pretence: the candlelit dinners and soft conversation, the expense for his company, his admittance into the correct parties, on Palpatine’s arm.  Connections, every step up the ladder accompanied by some new bauble or invitation.  

He played the game well, admittedly. But the cracks were beginning to show.

Sidious parked the speeder outside the establishment. Binks had arranged their meeting, for once, and the place he named had been unfamiliar to Sidious. Looking it up had revealed a tiny, near-decrepit diner, rated highly by its patrons but condemned by every food hygiene standard board. This was unusual, to say the least. Sidious was sure Binks hadn’t wanted to come here for the ‘Best waffles this side of the city!!!1!’, as others evidently did.

He wondered with some glee, and no small amount of anticipation, if Binks was going to try to have him murdered. It was unlikely, more’s the pity. He never bored of the younger being’s company, strangely, but if the time came for the ruse to end- and why did that thought needle him?- he would rather it end interestingly.

Stepping out of the vehicle and making his way to the door, he saw through the transparisteel the moment Binks noticed him. The Gungan was seated in a booth nearer the back, sheltered from other patrons and the view of the street. An uncharacteristically wise choice. Equally concerning was the way Binks greeted him through the window with a subtle, subdued wave, rather than some display of poor balance.

Then again, he’d never been certain whether the clumsiness was earnest, or some excuse to fall into him. The Gungan’s affable manner had opened doors that a true statesman’s dignity seemingly could not; Sidious would never have continued the charade had Binks reflected poorly, after all.

Sidious eyed the faltering neon sign above the door, taking in the missing letter critically. He made his way inside, sparing the barest polite nod for the young Balosar employee that welcomed him chirpily and ignoring the inane jangle of a bell over his head as he crossed the threshold. The inside seemed clean and well-kept, at least, despite its shabby exterior.

He felt his lips curve into a smile, unbidden, as he approached the booth. He greeted Binks dotingly, and settled in, putting his coat aside.

Binks seemed subdued, but as it became clear he had no plans to kidnap the Chancellor or some other ulterior plot, Sidious let himself relax, finding himself enjoying the company despite himself.  They spoke about nothing important until the Balosar came to take their orders, and satisfied in his ability to entertain the Gungan while considering other plans, Sidious’ mind drifted. To his irritation, however, his thoughts kept returning to Binks, and the nature of their engagement.    

The Gungan opposite him was ungainly. But by the standard of his species, he was apparently quite the catch. It was clear he expected that to carry him even among the other species of the Senate; there was a certain confidence to his plan. Which, was so obvious and doomed to failure that Sidious would have derided it, were he not currently sat opposite him in some greasy diner.

Sleeping his way to the top was a plebeian tactic, and one Sidious (and the mask Palpatine alike) knew better than to fall for. But to ‘sleep to the top’ without even trying to make overtures of more traditional seduction? It did not hurt his pride to know that Binks wouldn’t desire him, Gungan biology being as it was. But had he been as vain and petty as the typical targets of such seduction were? Binks had to be more of an idiot than he looked.

Or perhaps a hidden genius, albeit misguided? His Gungan appearance was an unconventional taste among near-humans, although not one Sidious shared for all his adaptability.

Well. His own tastes were never in question: Certainly, he would never have been sat at a chipped cast-plast table, on scuffed synthleather for any of the beautiful, near-human opportunists who had approached him.  Aside from the clear pitfalls of such an engagement, none of them had held his interest in that way. So why did he feel so compelled by the Gungan across from him? Sidious was no stranger to experimentation. Of course, in that regard his desires generally leaned towards Sith Alchemy, or other appropriately satisfying pastimes. He had no interest in passion beyond that of the Sith.

Binks’ attempt to ensnare him was a base ploy, and unconvincing. So he told himself.

Their food arrived, and the easy ebb and flow of the conversation changed. As soon as the server departed, Binks had become…unsettled.

Sidious steeled himself for the likely eventualities, the Gungan blurting out some threat, or even a stuttered proposition.

He would be sure to let him down gently, in either case. Strangely, the thought of having to destroy him utterly, should such a response be appropriate, didn’t please him as much as it should.

Such power thrumming through him, directed, the Force enacting his will with the world as his conduit… he revelled in any opportunity to flex the power of the Sith, so rare under the eyes of the Jedi. And yet the way Bink’s leathery hand slipped from his own, to rest uncertainly on the table’s edge, felt like he had been the one struck by Sith lightning.

He couldn’t deny there was a certain commonality to his possible explanations for Binks’ unusual behaviour. Although anything from illness to the more bizarre could be behind the shift, Sidious’ mind had leapt directly to a few causes. He could deny it no longer, his dread- and it was that- was for the ways in which the Gungan could end their arrangement.  

The thought of never being sat in another establishment as dingy as this should have been a victory. But the loss of Binks’ company? Hatefully, viciously, the ache within his chest grew stronger, pulling at him like the tide.

As Binks spoke, subjects increasingly rambling and distracted, the water in his glass caught Sidious’ eye. The surface was utterly still, the Gungan’s typical nervous fidgeting giving way to total stillness.

The unusual poise struck Sidious. He recalled a trip they had taken some month previous. They had returned to Naboo together. It had been necessary, for Sidious to tie up some loose ends, and for the Chancellor to be seen, having not forgotten the mid-rim and his people, even as the pressures of the Senate and the Republic forced him to serve the core. It had simply been convenience, for the Gungan Representative to share a transport.

But it had been more than that. They’d arrived in time for the warmer season to have begun, and the afternoon before they had to leave they’d visited one of the coasts.

Although he had found the sand and sun to be distasteful, and had avoided going near the lake itself- it never did to reveal a weakness to others- Jar Jar had leapt, carefree into the water. The motion had splashed, but even as Sidious wiped the cool water out of his eyes, couldn’t bring himself to resent the irritation, given Jar Jar’s joy. He’d blinked against the bright sunlight, and the water weighing down his lashes, and suddenly seen clearly.

Jar Jar had just broken the surface, damp skin shining amongst the glare. In the water, he’d been at home; as Sidious watched, his gangly limbs that were so clumsy on dry land, became graceful, power behind his lean muscle. It wasn’t attraction, what he’d felt in that moment, more like the admiration he felt for the strength and order of nature, the leashed potential of a waterfall, or inevitability of a sunset bringing darkness with its beauty.

Sidious couldn’t forget the image. Jar Jar, crossing the breadth of the lake in a few powerful strokes to return to him, broaching the surface to float languidly, waving sappily with the afternoon sun behind him.

In that moment, the Gungan was a sight to see, and against his greatest wishes Sidious had never wanted to let him go.

The glory he had become lingered in Sidious’ mind; a stark contrast to the wreck opposite him in the dry, artificially clean air of Coruscant’s mid-levels. Finally, he understood why the Jedi, faint-hearted as they were, turned away from attachment. It wouldn’t do to reveal a weakness. And he felt as out of his depth here as he did under water.

Yet, it was from the cowardice of the Jedi, their false security of arrogance and stagnation, that stemmed their blindness.  

Sidious was wiser. He would secure the situation, certainly, to eliminate risk, and his security was such that distasteful tasks could be easily offloaded onto lesser, but still, he would do what must be done to succeed. Once the waiting was done, after all, one had to  act to win.

Politics was cut-throat, as were the Sith. Unlike the Jedi, prim and crumbling, in their sheltered temples, Sidious understood that it was better to end a fruitless plan and have countless more waiting, than to continue on to destruction and accept what remains could be salvaged. Plagueis had never expected a mundane death in the night, rather than some show of power. Bane’s way in its arrogance, had limited him. Sidious had taken their teachings of innovation and pride. He had combined them, into something better.

He didn’t need anyone else, not as anything other than pawns. He shouldn’t want anything more than the world, at his feet.

The wisdom of the true Sith was knowing that sometimes it was better to rip open a wound than let it fester.

He shredded the besotted façade. Although easier to fake by the second, it caved at his whim and he asked impatiently, “Is something wrong, Jar Jar?”

Binks looked up, his eyes wide with overdone innocence, “Yousa angry, Sheevie? Yousa actin berry weird.” He said knowingly, laying a large hand on Sidious’ arm.

The gesture was insincere, and it sickened him. It seemed the affair had reached its natural end, Binks’ aim achieved and no further to take the relationship as neither had made more than half-hearted overtures to test the waters, that the other had pretended not to pick up on.

Remembering the Gungan’s attempt at coy brushes, or innuendo nearly made him laugh. His own entendres had surely been more elegant, but nonetheless amusing. Of course, Binks hadn’t realised he was aware of the game they were playing, but at times it had felt almost like a mutual challenge, to make the weakest insinuations, and ignore the more overt.  He couldn’t look at the sickening contrition on Binks’ face. He cast his eyes to the wall and forced on.  

“This facade is beneath us. And it is over.” He stated, keeping his voice low for the sake of the few scattered patrons pretending they didn’t recognise the Chancellor. Potentially, a few of them didn’t, and the last few months had cultivated a ‘friendship’ between the two Naboo politicians that would hardly shock the media.

He noticed one young being, however, with her eyes firmly attached to the Gungans hand on his arm. Maybe Binks had brought him to an establishment that didn’t know the meaning of discretion to force them to leash their tempers to avoid a scene. Or maybe that was his hope, to expose the whole tawdry affair, or threaten to. More fool him; Palpatine’s career would survive. He had contingencies that he had failed to disclose to Binks when arranging his appointment in the Senate.

He prepared himself for the confused kindness to leave the Gungan’s eyes, for the threats of blackmail, or some other proposition.

Instead, Binks grinned, nostrils twitching with amusement. “Sheevie! It took yousa longo enough, me didn't know yousa'd ever noticen!” His tone was genial, and he flung his arms wide, knocking the salt and pepper to spill across the table. Sidious watched stonily as the pepper set Binks to sneezing, the fit turning into unabashed laughter as he shook his head to clear the powder from his face.

The fool’s good humour hit Sidious like a lightsaber to the gut. “I knew from the start, you imbecilic-“ His snarl paused at the sight of Bink’s eye-stalks drooping.

The Gungan’s eyes were wary, and his posture more reserved than his usual sprawl.  Sidious wondered, for just a second, if- no. It was useless to expect anything other than an end to their game. After all, that was all this had been.  

“This must be very amusing for you, Binks, but the time for lies has finished.” He struggled not to let his grudging respect show. He’d known from the start what this was about. It wasn’t unusual to him to play on someone’s expectation that they were using him, even as he manipulated them. But now he felt like he’d truly been tricked.

Yet, the Gungan looked heartbroken, sliding down in his seat with an ear-splitting synthleather squeak. Half the patrons had turned to look at the obnoxious sound and several were peering at them curiously, as if thinking they looked familiar. Of course they did. He was the Chancellor of the (soon to be) Sith-damned Republic and hardly any Gungans left their home swamps, let along travelled to Coruscant.

“Meesa enjoyen da timen wesa shared-” he protested, but Sidious cut him off with a harsh gesture.

The Balosar kept glancing back, clearly aware of the subject of their conversation from the way she had avoided returning to check on them, and her energetic, blushing attempt to busy herself with the other patrons- but rarely the booths next to theirs.  She, at least, clearly had the business sense to feign closed ears- the two Twi-leks occupying the booth across were far less subtle. While the rumours of their affair would hardly destroy him, his pride wouldn’t stand for eavesdroppers, in this of all conversations.

Pushing outwards with the Force, it was second nature to convince the room that there was nothing of interest to listen in on, and he perhaps took a vindictive pleasure in the way the Twi-leks’ eyes went vague and confused for a moment before they resumed their inane conversation.  

“Don’t start that now, Binks. This was a pretence from the start. It means nothing to me.” He tried not to imagine that day on the beach, the way Binks had smiled so earnestly for him. “Tell me what you want, then get out of my sight.”

“Me no wanten anytten…“ Binks’ started to speak, falteringly at first, but then growing in desperate passion until his voice took on a forceful resonance quite unlike anything Sidious had heard from him before.

“Yousa were useful in builden career but now? Disa lonely game, Sheevie; playen everyone yousa meet, da lying, da plotten. Not knowen where yousa enden and da mask begins. No da edges chafe, Sidious? No yousa wishen yousa could besa who yousa trulyis?”

He could do nothing but stare, unable to meet Binks’ eyes as he stood, slamming his splayed palms onto the tabletop and leaning in, eyes wide and looking down towards him with that yellow gaze. It suddenly seemed to pierce his soul. Binks forged on despite his shock, “Have an ally who knows yousa, respects yousa per who yousa is, without fearen or hidin?”

His voice cracked with passion and he finished softly, “Did disa really mean notten to yousa, Sheevie?"

Sidious blinked.  He opened his mouth to answer. He closed it again. Mind spinning, floundering, trying frantically to process, what on Naboo’s sky goddess was Binks talking about?

Then what the Gungan had said hit him. Belatedly, he jumped to his feet, eyeing his companion carefully like one might watch a snarling Gundark.

“What did you just call me?” He asked, lowly.

The Gungan cocked his head, ears flapping with the motion, but didn’t answer.

“What did you just call me, Binks?” He demanded, his voice dark with threat. His fingers brushed the edge of the weapon up his sleeves. The metal cylinder was cool and his hands were steady, even as the heat of his gaze bore into Binks, his rage carefully cultivated until it filled the force around the pair, obscuring any fear or heartbreak.

“Where did you hear that name?” He repeated for the last time. The patrons and staff, oblivious, continued their meals, laughing and talking. The sound grated, and dangerously he considered. This place was acceptable collateral, for when he destroyed Binks. The thought didn’t hurt. His hands were shaking. He forced them still. Tightening his grip on the 'saber, he folded the other hand into his velvet sleeve, crushing the fabric as he watched Binks warily.

“Yousa said yousa knew everything, didn’t yousa?” The Gungan asked, head cocked indulgently. The idle slouch and his clumsy hyperactivity were gone, and he meet the Sith Lord’s eyes, unflinching, his tone vaguely confused. “Den wesa don’t needen to keep faken do wesa, Darth Sidious?”

He threw the name casually, for all the insolence dripping from his rolling tone. Sidious swept his gaze over the Gungan, considering. Could it be?

“I have…underestimated you.” He admitted. The concession stung but…maybe it didn’t have to... If the Binks’ speech had been true, maybe they didn’t have to hide. He had no contingencies for this, for ether of the deepest secrets the Gungan had revealed, but maybe he wouldn’t have to pick up any pieces; that speech had sounded rather like an offer.

“Your infiltration of the Senate was genius, after all,” He allowed, far more casually than he felt. He didn’t bother to suppress the burgeoning admiration, either “Even I didn’t see you for what you are.”

The mask shouldn’t have been as convincing as it was, but the best lies held an element of the truth.

Binks smirked, as if he could hear the thought. “Wesa do what wesa have to-”

Sidious’ breath caught. Ah. It had been foolish to hope the offer would meet all of his outlandish dreams. He cut Binks’ off, unwilling to hear the excuses or gloating. Was my company so distasteful? He suppressed the question, instead huffing a sharp laugh. Binks nevertheless flinched.

Sidious ignored the twist of self-contempt, attempting to rouse it into hatred, but it remained in his throat like a lump of stone. “And here I thought your only deception was the more…sordid charade.” He commented scornfully.

Binks’ mouth gaped, but he quickly recovered. “At first, yesa…” He reached out, flared fingers skimming the back of Sidious’ hand. The gesture should have mocked him, but Binks continued, “Dat was da only parten dat felt true…”

The gold washed out of his eyes, the edges first, then the centre, flashing a deep brown before the tawny gold flooded back, with a rush of the dark side that seemed to shudder though Sidious. A dark energy that blended into Binks so naturally that he seemed incomplete, that second without it.

Hiding in plain side…a strange feeling rose in Sidious, a kind of envy or pride he had never felt before. He didn’t have to use, or covet that strength, the elegance of that mind. He simply admired the Gungan before him, more wholly than he ever had, even that afternoon, watching him shine in the water. This was his true nature. Their true nature.

“Wesa do what wesa have to…” Binks repeated, “Sometimes it becomes what wesa wanten.” He looked at Sidious, waiting.

All his pride, his innovation, every side of himself he hid, what he revealed, itself a half-truth. The loneliness of greatness. He had combined the teachings and weakness of his Master, and made himself something better. He would act, and he would win. He looked back at Jar Jar. Maybe not every victory had to mean defeat for someone.

His resistance crumbled. He reached back and took Jar Jar’s hand.

***

Deep within the Jedi temple, Master Yoda was flung from his bedtime mediation. Between one even breath and the next, a bizarre sensation rang through the Force like a pealing bell, and his eyes started open.

“The dark side….” He pondered to himself, easing his old bones out of his position on his mat, “Stronger, it is.”

He ambled into his small kitchen and puttered about with the kettle. He collected his tin of tea and, as the crushed leaves poured out over each other, he reached out into the Force. Settling into the web of lights, he felt the brightness of the temple ground him, the smaller sparks throughout the planet burning steadily like candles against the darkness. It had had been growing, of late.

Nevertheless, the Jedi stood. He let their presences reassure him, pulling lightly on his links to his padawans and their lines as he considered the nature of the shift that had roused him. The bright beam of Skywalker burned like a supernova, in contrast to the scarred wound where Yan was once tethered. It ached, cold and empty, and Yoda was glad of the hiss of the kettle boiling on the edge of his awareness.

He pulled back, and poured the water, chiding himself. The loss of his padawan was one he should not shy from, nor cling to. That way, bitterness lies, and darkness. He had let him go, as was the Jedi way, but he was not too old yet to learn from his mistakes.

The darkness clung to Coruscant, but the ripples from its shudder slowly soothed as Yoda sipped his tea, humming at the sharp taste.

“Stronger it is, and yet loving, it seems to be…” he mused. The dark side knew no love, only obsession and fear twisting into hatred, passion without compassion. Yet the air seemed to have changed, a momentous, tiny hitch that clung like a bitter aftertaste. “…dark, yes, loving, but clear, hmm?” He finished his tea, and glanced towards his bed. Grumbling, however, he turned back to the pot and poured another. Sipping the hot drink, stronger for having brewed while he drank and thought, he made his way to his meditation mat and settled in. It was late, and he was older than he’d ever felt before, but he felt ill at ease going to sleep. 

Vigil, he would hold, and with the Force commune. A bad feeling about this, he had.

***

Not far from the temple, in 500 Republica, Sidious woke to the Coruscant dawn. His apartment soundproofing smothering the buzz of traffic outside, but it was the rising sunlight which had roused him. Sidious lifted a hand above his eyes to block the beam that had fallen onto his pillow, confused.  The heavy curtains usually blocked the light, and he had closed them as surely as always the night before.

He blinked awake, and as the bright spots from the light faded, he could see the crack in his curtain, morning sun filtering through the gap and silhouetting the tall figure looking out.

“Jar Jar?” His voice was low, halting with the rasp of early morning. They’d ended up speaking late into the evening, until the diner had closed and then some. They had walked through the streets together, linked arms warding off the cold night air, discussion everything from matters of the Sith, to more mundane gossip, although of course the two were hardly distinct. The latest city zoning bill, young Skywalker and his apparently mutual attraction to Senator Amidala, their interest in Sith artefacts and good food.

It had been…strange, but pleasant to converse with someone who understood him- they made a game of, or forwent their usual conversational patterns of insidious whispers and making connections from referenced habits or facts. Before he’d noticed how much time had passed, they’d reached his apartment. The thought of parting at the door was displeasing. So he’d invited Jar Jar in.

They had shared a drink, and he’d brought out some Naboo delicacies he’d been saving. Although it was only midweek, he felt like celebrating, and he wanted to wash out the taste of the greasy slop from the diner. He’d said as much, and Jar Jar had laughed easily, and called him a snob. It had been an affectionate jab, hollow for all its truth. Watching Jar jar’s fond expression, he hadn’t even had to clench his teeth and imagine the Gungan writhing in agony, as he usually did when slighted as Palpatine.

No, he’d joined in, Jar Jar’s laughter infectious. Then he’d offered him a spare set of nightclothes.

They’d talked into the night, and once sleep called too strongly to be ignored, the expected urge to use the dark side to remain alert for longer, to keep the advantage over a potential threat didn’t rise. Instead, he’d laid beside Jar Jar, feeling the brush of heat against his side, and let the rise and fall of his chest lull him to resting.

Now, in the light of the morning, he had no regrets. All he could see was a long, and prosperous future, the potential of them both.

Extricating himself from silk sheets, he slid his feet into his slippers and joined Jar Jar at the window. He leant his hip against the sill, brushing a hand lightly over the curve of Jar Jar’s shoulder in greeting, and resting the other gently on his back. Stood together, they looked out over the city below, the rush of traffic, constant despite the hour with countless brightly coloured speeders blurring against the Coruscant skyline. Thousands of people, following their routines, beginning their days, unaware of the Sith Lords watching them pass.

Which was he, truly? Darth Sidious? Sheev Palpatine? The Chancellor, the Emperor, a Sith, just a man?

‘Sheevie’ settled just as easily as any other name ever had, no title or pseudonym more honestly his. Jar Jar saw the masks, and beneath them. He accepted that neither of them could ever settle as anything other than an act. Knowing that, seeing it in each other and letting it be seen; that, in itself was authenticity, he supposed. Maybe that’s all love is. Neither of them had to perform.

Fondness rose in his chest, spilling onto his face as his eyes crinkled in a gentle smile. “One day,” He murmured, the morning quiet feeling too significant to break with revelations like his, “This city will be ours.”

Jar Jar didn’t look away from the window, his profile illuminated against the soft glow of dawn. He didn’t have to, for Sidious to see the way his mouth split into a soft smile. He replied steadily, hearing the words underneath as he always did, “It already is.”

[yehet-about-it]

I Like Me Better | 17 - Apology

~ A Wayv Social Media AU Series ~

< Prev || Series Masterlist || Next >

Synopsis: You’ve just moved into a new apartment with your best friend Yangyang, but you’re immediately faced with a problem: your incredibly noisy upstairs neighbour Xiao Dejun, or to friends, Xiaojun. You spend the first few weeks of your acquaintance hating his guts, but after a sincere apology and a fascinating revelation about his passions and motivations you slowly begin to see past his cold exterior to discover the real him. What will happen as you get closer to this troubled boy and how will those closest to you react?

Pairing: Reader x Xiaojun

Themes and Warnings: Explicit language, mild sexual content, mild violence and references to drinking/alcohol. Deals with themes of toxic masculinity, insecurity, gaslighting (sort of), and jealousy…

Disclaimer: All work is fictional, and not an accurate depiction of any real people mentioned within the story, nor is it intended to be an accurate or realistic depiction of said people.

Words: 2.2k

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“Hey.”

“Hey.” The atmosphere was awkward as you stood in the lobby of your apartment building having agreed to talk with Xiaojun. You had slipped out unnoticed by Yangyang, who would most likely be none too pleased at your willingness to spend time with the man who had inadvertently given you a bruised neck during his drunken tirade, and not in the pleasant way.

You turned left out of your building, following Xiaojun in silence until he spoke up again. “Are you okay to walk? I know it’s hot but there’s this place I know a mile or two away I thought we could go to.” You confirmed you were okay, having dressed appropriately in shorts and sneakers and sidled up to Xiaojun so you were walking side by side. You were thankful for the noise of the city as you walked, the both of you hesitant to start the conversation you knew you needed to have. “So uh.” Xiaojun chewed on his lip as he tried to find the right words to start, a habit he’d picked up over the years when he was nervous. “I really am sorry about the other night y/n. I really regret what I said, it was awful and I was drunk and- and just angry about some stuff, so I understand if you don’t like me, but I really want to make things right.” You nodded slowly, taking in his words. “Yeah, it was pretty awful… but I don’t think you’re a bad guy Xiaojun, you’re just- just kina frustrating. I think I can forgive you, but I just wanna know why you lashed out like that…” Since that day you went to his café, you had realised Xiaojun wasn’t just the stoney, cold bad boy he seemed to be on the surface; that there was a much softer and gentler side to him. When you saw his face light up at the sight of Bella, and the genuine carefree smile on his face when he held her, to the serene look on his face as he strummed on his guitar. It all told you there was something more to this boy, and you wanted to find out what. You wanted to find out why he was such a stubborn ass, when he was clearly a softie deep down. And you wanted to know why he fought with his friends so much. Xiaojun sighed deeply at your request. “Lucas,” he said grimly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He was going on at me about… stuff. He’s one of my best friends but he can be a right jerk.” You scoffed at the irony and Xiaojun looked at you. “Yeah takes one to know one right? But you know, he’s this big ripped model and thinks he’s invincible, while I’m just this scrawny little nobody… He’s always bragging about girls and telling me how useless I am when it comes to that, and the other night he just took it too far. I guess he got in my head and I didn’t handle it well, and I took it out on you, so I’m sorry…”

Your eyes softened a little as you listened to Xiaojun rant. You never imagined that he’d be holding on to insecurities like that, let alone that one of his own best friends would be rubbing it in his face. You knew boys bantered over stuff like that, but it’s small things like that which can trigger peoples insecurities and produce some grim results, so you could understand where Xiaojun was coming from. “Oh… Lucas did mention something like that…” Xiaojun looked at you in annoyance. “Of course he did,” he grumbled. There was a pause before Xiaojun spoke again. “So, do you think you can forgive me? And I promise I’ll keep my music down or wear headphones from now on too.” You chuckled at his last statement. “Yeah, I think so. I get why you were annoyed, Lucas is a bit… much. But you shouldn’t have brought my friends into it. And next time? Maybe go a little easier on the liquor.” “Next time?” Xiaojun said playfully, his expression turning into a smirk, to which you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, sorry, I know. I promise it won’t happen again y/n.” “Well thank you, apology accepted.” A small smile played on Xiaojun’s lips as you answered, mostly out of relief, but also out of astonishment at your forgiveness. In truth, he’d been a complete and utter asshole, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if you despised him and had said you never wanted anything to do with him ever again, but mercifully, you hadn’t.

You continued the rest of your walk quietly, making small talk about how long he’d lived in Hannam, who Renjun was and so forth. Eventually you came to a small trail on a hill around the back of the infamous “Hannam The Hill” complex, that led to a small viewpoint, shrouded in trees. “Wow, I never knew this was here…” You breathed as Xiaojun led you out onto the platform, overlooking most of Seoul. “Yeah, not many people know about it. I come here when I need to think,” Xiaojun admitted leaning forwad on the wooden barrier. “It’s beautiful, you can see so much of the city…” You stopped gazing out across the city as you caught your breath from the climb. Who knew Xiaojun was the sort to come somewhere as pretty as this in his down time? Really you were humbled that he trusted you enough to bring him to such a private place for him. “Heh, yeah it’s pretty nice, especially at night. Helps me clear my head.”

You spent the next few moments in comfortable silence, appreciating the view, feeling the warm sun oon your face. You’d just closed your eyes, embracing the little bit of fresh air you were getting as a change from the usual stuffy dusty air of the city when Xiaojun spoke again. “Thank you y/n…” You blinked back at him. “For what?” You asked, puzzled. “For being so patient, and giving me another chance. Not many people do…” Your heart pounded in your chest, stunned by the moment of sincerity. “You don’t need to thank me Dejun, everyone deserves a second chance,” you said, smiling softly back at him. “I think you’ve given me more than two chances. And I really mean it. You’ve been more patient than most. I mean, you even came to see me sing at that dumb café. That… really meant a lot. My musical career hasn’t exactly taken off and at this point I’ll take all the audience I can get….” You looked Xiaojun in the eyes to respond sincerely, but saw an indescribable sadness in them that made your heart sink. “Really it mas my pleasure but… that must be hard,” you whispered. “You could say that. Doesn’t help when your dad and brother are always on your case about why you’re not getting anywhere, telling you ‘you’re wasting your life in Korea’, and that ‘if you’re still working at that coffee bar in 12 months you’re coming back to China’… Just because they’re big hotshots in the industry back home.” Here was the baggage you had been looking for. You had guessed he had more on his plate than he let on, and clearly this was it. You didn’t know why he was trusting you with all this, but you were glad he was. “Wow… That’s rough, I can’t believe they’d say that to you…” Your brows furrowed as you took in everything Xiaojun was saying, and you couldn’t help but feel sympathy towards him. “Yeah well I’ve dealt with it most of my life. The successful favorite brother. I’m just the failure. You know, your friend called me that, ‘a failed musician’…” “He did what?!” Your eyes widened at what Xiaojun had just told you. You couldn’t believe that Kun of all people would say that to him. You were definitely having words. “Heh, don’t worry I’ve been called worse, I’m used to it…” Xiaojun snorted indignantly. “No, no that’s not okay… Kun should know better…” You shook your head, genuinely feeling a little guilty. “Really its fine, it was a heat of the moment thing. And I guess after what I said on Saturday it can be forgiven…” You nodded. “Still, he shouldn’t have said that. It’s a hard industry to get into and you’re trying your best. Your voice is incredible Xiaojun, any label would be lucky to snap you up. It just takes a little more exposure, putting yourself out there, and I’m sure you’ll make it.” Xiaojun looked genuinely taken aback. “Well it’s definitely not as simple as that, but thanks.” There was a bashful smile on his face as he thanked you, seeming genuinely grateful for your compliment.

As the conversation stilled, you stood against the wooden fence of the observation deck, taking in the view of the city in silence and feeling the cool breeze trickling through your hair, providing some relief from the hot sun. Then you had a thought, as you realised there was still something you hadn’t cleared up. “By the way,” you looked up at Xiaojun, a small smirk on your face. “It’s really not like that with me and Kun…” Xiaojun looked at you quizzically. “He’s pretty much like my big brother. I’ve known him since I was in middle school. His parents are friends with mine and he went to school with my brother… I guess he’s always just looked out for me like a little sister. He looks out for all of us. So you can drop the whole sugar daddy thing.” Xiaojun snickered. “Heh yeah. Sorry about that… Guess I was just jealous,” he admitted, much to your surprise. “Oh…” you said, flushing a little and clearing your throat. “You know, I think if you two gave eachother a chance, you might get on.” You brushed Xiaojun’s comment off choosing to ignore it and work on reconciling him and Kun. Xiaojun scoffed. “I don’t think he’ll be willing to give me another chance after everything, especially that,” he said pointing to the bruise on your neck. “Well I don’t know, I have,” you shrugged. “Kun’s a good guy, he doesn’t hold grudges for long unless you really deserve it.” You paused, contemplating whether to tell Xiaojun what you were going to say next. “He’s a producer you know...” “What?” Xiaojun looked at you in surprise. “Kinda big time. He’s worked on some pretty big songs.” You knew Kun was going to be utterly mad at you for attempting to use him to help this guy, but nevertheless you wanted to try and give Xiaojun at least a little bit of hope, something positive to pull him out of his head. “Woah. Didn’t really have him down as the musical type.” “Oh really? What type did you have him down as then?” You said, playfully challenging Xiaojun to make another quip about Kun. “Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t put that much thought into it to be honest.” You both laughed, the glowing sun lighting up Xiaojun’s face as his eyes creased in genuine, happy laughter. “Well, maybe one day I can introduce you properly, he might be able to help you”. “Yeah one day. Let’s just focus on getting him to not hate me first,” Xiaojun said cynically, but with a tone of amusement in his voice.

You laughed, relieved that you could no longer feel the tension that had been between the two of you earlier, and that Xiaojun now seemed to have a genuine smile on his face. All the angst that had been clouding his aura before was now gone for the most part, and you happily enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, chatting and embracing the peace of Xiaojun’s little sanctuary. And when you got home, despite Yangyang’s nagging, you were filled with a resolve to actually make an effort with Xiaojun and get to know your mysterious neighbour.

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[say-writes-sometimes]

"So maybe I am jealous"

Nathan Young x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: nothing really but slight language, heavy kissing

a/n: This is just Nathan getting jealous when you go to the bar, he starts getting a little possessive

This is my first Nathan Fic so yeah, constructive criticism is definitely wanted 💛

As you were cleaning the windows of the community center you were not oblivious to the glances Nathan threw at you. This had been going on for a while now and you were desperately waiting for him to finally make a move. He was usually too cocky for his own good, but when you actually wanted him to be honest and upfront he kept his pretty lips sealed.

You thought your hints were quite obvious, the way you laughed at his bad jokes and smiled at his disgusting antics. Nathan didn't seem to pick up on all of this though.

Wiping down the soapy window, you spied a young man walking through the community center looking around rather lost. You walked past Nathan, sparing him a lingering gaze he didn't notice and stalked through the double doors into the community center.

-"hey, I saw you wandering around in there multiple times, uhm anyway can I help you find your way?"

-"yeah that would be nice. This place is like a labyrinth and I keep on walking the same halls over and over again"

-"oh, believe me I know. Where can I guide you... ?", you asked noticing you didn't know his name yet and letting your sentence drifting off into nothingness.

- "I'm sorry, it's Ken, I am looking for Sally, do you happen to know her?"

-" I'm [y/n]. I know Sally, she must be wandering around here somewhere doing whatever she does all day long, but I can show you to her office if you like?"

-"Thank you [y/n], you are my saviour!"

You chuckled lightly at his comment and started to lead him to Sally's office, still smiling softly to yourself. Ken was a good looking young fella, there was no denying that. Easy conversation flowed between the two of you as you passed the window the other five were currently cleaning. You could feel their gazes on you as you passed. Nathan's eyes followed you far longer down the halls than you would have expected.

-"What is she doing there with that twat?", Nathan exclaimed rather irritated.

-"What do ya think, dickhead, she's talking to him", Kelly stated matter-of-factly while rolling her eyes at Nathan. His thoughts kept bothering him. He didn't know why he was so irritated by you hanging around with another guy, it's not like there was something going on between them, was there?

You arrived Infront of the office doors and saw Sally sitting inside talking animately on the phone.

-"I should get going before she sees me. I don't want to get any more work put on my shoulders today. See yah around sometime?", you said hurriedly, really not wanting Sally to catch you there when you had work to finish.

-"wait!", Ken called out to you as you turned around, "would you like to go out for a drink tonight?", he finished, his cheeks starting to glow in soft hues of red. His smile stayed on, though, and turned quite cheeky. He was up for mischief and you most definitely knew it. He actually had the balls to ask you out, unlike the guy you set your eyes on. Getting your mind of Nathan for a night won't hurt right?

-"yes I would like that"

-"I will meet you here at seven then [y/n]?"

You agreed before bidding your goodbyes and hurrying back to the windows, smiling goofily.

"Mind telling us who the guy was [y/n]?", Alisha asked smirking, nudging a very grumpy looking Nathan.

"Uhm, that was Ken, wanted to talk to Sally I guess", you answered, unsure where this conversation would lead.

"he looks like he could give you right a good time, you know?", Alisha added, evil smirk broadening, splitting her face.

Nathan grumbled a quiet "I'm done" under his breath while turning to leave.

"I might find out t'night, we're going out for a couple pints at the bar later", you answered not knowing whether or not you wanted Nathan to hear about your plan. The question answered itself as soon as you finished when Nathan twirled back around, eyebrows pulled together and exclaimed: "Oh really? Have fun shaggin' the bastard then tonight". You noticed the sarcastic tone in his voice and for a split second you thought you heard a pinch of pain in his voice, but the thought disappeared as soon as Nathan stomped away.

"What's the matter with 'im?", Kelly wondered out loud. The answer was unknown to you all, Kelly probably hearing your thoughts trying to put the pieces together.

Later in the locker room you took your time, hoping to get a moment alone with Nathan but he seemed to be too much in a hurry to get away from you. He did not look back, he didn't even say goodbye to anyone that day. You tried to shrug it of as well as you could while changing out of your orange jumpsuit.

At seven sharp you reached the Community Center and saw Ken already waiting for you, looking at his watch absentmindedly. As you reached him you couldn't help but smile. He was dressed in Jeans and a dress shirt. You looked out of place dressed in your usual jeans and sweatshirt.

-"You look lovely tonight [y/n]", Ken beamed at you.

-"Thank you, you don't look too shabby yourself there", you answered, slightly blushing at his words.

You walked to the bar close to each other but not quite touching. Smalltalk flooded the cool evening air and you welcomed the comfortable heat inside the bar he chose, as you stepped over the threshold.

He was the definition of a gentleman all throughout the date. Polite, charming. But something put you off, it seemed forced and not genuine. Nonetheless you enjoyed yourself and you had a good time.

He walked you home that night, confidently grasping your hand, his grip was tight and not comforting at all, but you brushed it off. When the two of you arrived at your doorstep you lingered for a few moments.

-"so this is it. That's me right here."

The moment you said that Ken leaned down and his face closed in on yours. Shocked and overwhelmed by his sudden action you turned your head away. His lips brushing your cheeks instead. He pulled away, "when will I see you again?", he sighed.

-"soon", was the only thing you muttered as you turned and opened your door, slipping inside and leaning against the closed door, letting out the breath you held.

_

As you walked to Community Service early the next morning you thought back to the little date you had the night prior. Even though it brought a slight smile to your face and a glow to your skin, it also made you shiver slightly.

-

Last night after the community service Nathan left the locker room as fast as he could. He didn't want to talk to [y/n] then, he doesn't want to now either. In his tiny mind you chose that bastard over him. So that night he sat alone on the balcony, letting his legs tumble down swinging them lightly. He had pizza that night, but the knot in his stomach didn't let him finish it. He himself couldn't tell what was wrong. A scowl decorated his usually carefree face.

"Ken? What's that for a Barbie doll shit name?", he mumbled to himself. But there is no way he could be jealous of that wanker.

Nathan looked into the mirror. He had it all, face, body hell his hair should be enough to sweep [y/n] of her feet.

_

He was back to his cocky self when you entered the locker room, slight spring in your step and a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

"Hey there, how are you today?", you greeted him, trying to sound casual.

"Amazing, why wouldn't I be ? How was your date with Barbie?", he bit back.

"Is somebody jealous?", you teased wondering where this new found confidence came from.

"Why would I be jealous of him? I mean have you seen him? Have yah seen me? ", Nathan replied hastily, you could see his tough exterior faltering slightly.

"Nathan, I think you are", you were getting more and more sure of yourself, some might even say you were getting cocky.

"So yeah maybe I am jealous but what does that matter anyway now? You got that dickhead with ya now", he didn't even try to hide his sarcastic tone.

"Who told you that, I am nobody's property", you told Nathan as you stepped closer to him, "I think you're cute when you're jealous, Nathan".

"I am not cute [y/n], do you want me to proof that to yah?", Nathan , now smirking, closed the distance between the two of you. You backed up against the cold metall of the locker with a thud. His green eyes bored steadily into yours, occasionally flicking to your slightly parted lips. You were at a loss for words at his sudden boldness, but you weren't complaining. This was what you were waiting for all along. As your thoughts tumbled around your mind, Nathan leaned in an captured your lips with his. Slowly at first but the kiss grew heated fast.

Your heart rate exhilarated, and both of your breaths grew heavier. You pulled away to get a gasp of air into your lungs. One of Nathan's hands rested next to your head and the other softly at your hips. Your foreheads leaned against eachother as you caught your breaths.

"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do that and way more to you", Nathan breathed out. "Yeah, me neither", you contered, chest still heaving heavily. Without any more words you leaned back in, continuing where you left off. Tounges battling for dominance exploring each others mouths thoroughly. Nathan's narrow hips started to grind against yours, eclicting a soft moan from you, harmonizing with his low grunt. You totally lost yourself in him when the sound of the heavy locker room door destroyed the atmosphere.

"Oh .. my god... That is disgusting", Kelly exclaimed, "what do you think you're doing in 'ere?"

"I was just showing [y/n] there that I am not cute, and was about to give her a demonstration of the beast that is now awake", Nathan said while biting his lip and suggestively winking in your direction. You blushed, the taste of him still lingering in your mouth, leaving you wanting more. To be continued, you hoped.

[leiainhoth]

Work summary: For so long, Din fought the reality of giving the child up, giving him to the jetii and moving on. He had prepared for it, packed a bag and left it all behind, so his son could have the life he deserved. All until he didn't have to. Or the one where Luke rescues Grogu on Tython, and Din rescues Luke in return.

Chapter summary: Din, Luke and the others reach the outskirts of Mos Espa. Luke and Din have an important conversation about the future.

... 

Several days passed.

The caravan continued its journey, making good time across the dunes and sand. The child has grown comfortable with this strange arrangement, often asking Luke through his powers to sit with him on his bantha, and something soft in Din's heart lurched at the sight. The baby looked so  right  in Luke's arms, babbling happily as they journeyed on. He couldn't help but watch, couldn't help but sink into the warmth Luke and the child exuded. And more than once, Vanth looked back, and Din hastily shifted his gaze, struggling to focus on the desert and possible exterior threats with Luke so near.

By sunset the next day, they were five kilometres from Mos Espa, the dim lights of the town stark against the long shadows of the desert. Their journey was nearing its end; Mos Eisley was two days away. Din hoped to broker a deal with the mechanic in Mos Eisley, find some guild work, perhaps. Make enough credits to secure a ship like the  Crest  and leave Tatooine for…what?

What was his destination?

Din shifted his feet in the sand, feeling distinctly unmoored. He hadn't given himself leave, intentionally or otherwise, to think beyond what was waiting for them at the end of their journey. It had seemed so far off, so irrelevant. Why focus on the future when the present was so much better? He knew Luke was going to leave; he  knew  it. Even if he didn't like it, he forced himself to move past it. Luke would leave, he had to leave, to Tython for his droid and his ship, and then…and then…

Din turned his head, dismissing the thought. Luke was still here, still warm and smiling behind him, asking after the child. Din let the baby spill into Luke's arms and shut his eyes tightly as Luke's hand squeezed his own. It was becoming more and more painful to bear, this closeness, this familiarity. Surely it had been years, decades since Din had let another in the way he did Luke. The warmth of Luke's hand, the broadness of his smile, the flop of golden hair in the desert air shocked the breath from Din's lungs, watching his  jetii  walk away with his son in his arms. He was growing attached— perhaps dangerously attached. Luke was leaving, he thought with a pain; best get used to it.

Din forced himself to look away and spoke to Vanth with intention about their plans in Mos Espa. It had already been agreed that the others would wait on the outskirts for Vanth, Luke, and Din to consult with Mos Espa's marshal before moving on. It shouldn't take longer than an hour, maybe two. The marshal was amiable, Vanth assured him, she would understand and make preparations. Din shared a nod with his companion, satisfied.

Din thought back to the night before when Luke had shared his hopes of contacting his sister, Leia, on Chandrila. It was a simple request, finding a commlink in town, and Din was eager to help; if only to spend more time with his  jetii  before he had to leave.

There was a scuffle behind him, and Din turned to see the smiling face of Grogu in Luke's arms; and Din watched with a pain as Luke smiled warmly, and then looked past him, over the ridge, towards the first semblance of civilization they'd seen in over a week. Knowing without a shadow of a doubt that when Luke left, he might never see him again.

Dinner was the same as it always was, stew with vegetables and bantha milk, and Din tried to bury himself in tasks, nonsensical things, to keep his hands busy and his mind blank. He couldn't bear thinking about it, about the rush of heat when Luke brushed past him, the way his ears listened carefully for Luke's voice. It was too much, too much. He couldn't bear it. So he led the bantha's to water, refilled the water skins. Waited until Luke settled before doing the same.

Din couldn't sleep.

The night was relatively young; the fire cracked in the distance, but his mind was full and his body unsettled. Din rolled over, his body weary, but his mind was wide awake. It must be late, it felt like he had lain there for hours, but he was curiously,  annoyingly,  unable to find rest. The baby slept on beside him, his little body soft against Din's belly.

He was calm, now, sleeping peacefully. Din turned his head, listening carefully for the quiet snores of Luke in the tent beside him, eager to rest with the familiar sounds of even breath, and was both startled and confused when silence met him there.

He was still dressed, leggings and trousers and tunic, and pulled his helmet on as an afterthought. The rest of his  beskar'gam  lined the edges of the tent, carefully polished and tended to from his anxious hands. He hadn't the space to give his armour the honour it deserved, and besides, the tent was for sleeping and nothing more. He pulled the child to his chest and left his bedroll with anxious thoughts cycling through his mind.

Perhaps he'd been up late talking; maybe he'd needed to go for a walk to clear his head. He wouldn't have been taken; surely Din would have heard. Had Luke even come to bed? Was he still out there, somewhere? Alone?

Din tried to steady his heart; there was an explanation, there had to be. Luke wouldn't escape into the night before telling someone, Din, surely. He'd've told Din if he was planning on leaving, wouldn't he?

Din turned around, his boots catching on the loose rocks as he searched desperately. Luke wasn't in the cave; he wasn't sitting beside A'Vor tending the fire. The flap of his tent was loose, the strings untied but not torn. The sand before his tent was undisturbed, footsteps leading downhill and away. Wherever Luke was, he had left willingly. He hadn't been captured. Din activated the heat-sensing software in his HUD, cycling through the settings until he saw the warm red footsteps of his companion intermixed with others. The boot print was unique, easy enough to follow. Din turned, the baby still in his arms, wishing he'd had the presence of mind to put on his vambraces before he left the tent in the middle of the night.

"Hey,"

If not for the baby, he'd've jumped a metre. Luke was below him, sitting cross-legged in the grasses. He looked calm and relaxed, wrapped in the blanket from his bedroll. Din let out a shaky breath, pulling the child close to him as he slipped down the embankment to sit beside him.

"I was looking for you," Din said after a minute, letting the baby readjust himself in Din's arms, his lips smacking contentedly before burrowing his little head on Din's neck.

"I know," Luke said softly, opening his eyes with a smile. "Your thoughts are loud,"

"So you've said," Din said, the ease of his posture belaying the harshness of his tone. He hadn't meant to be sarcastic, but the fear had been so real. He couldn't bear the thought…the very  idea…  Luke's absence had sparked   something unkind and almost possessive in him. He didn't want his  jetii  to go, not where Din himself couldn't follow. Not where Din couldn't come, also.

For days, Din had watched, watched as Luke looked longingly off into the horizon as if everything he had ever wanted or desired was waiting for him there. Din had expected Luke to leave; what business had he to stay? Din had nothing to offer, no ship, no transport, no credits, surely. Everything he had to his name had been destroyed by the empire. And Luke wanted to leave; Din could see it in his eyes; blue, open, expectant of good things waiting for him.

Din had nothing; the child, undoubtedly, his pulse rifle, a blaster. Bolts and solar chargers in excess, the baby's clothes in a cloth bag. His possessions in and of themselves were little in comparison to his  beskar'gam.  But that wasn't the point, was it? Luke  wanted  to leave, and something in Din's heart would snap to see his  jetii  go.

"I came to watch the stars," Luke said by way of an explanation, laying back against a blanket. He looked so soft, Din thought with a brush of happiness, laying there with his head cradled in his palms. Din watched with a shudder in his breath as Luke let his legs fall, the turn of his ankle escaping the warmth of the blanket. Din knew that his  jetii  was lethal. The way he had wielded his  jetii'kad,  the strength behind his blows, it was clear to him and to anyone he met in the field of battle that he had mastered his craft. But it was different seeing him like this; he was wearing the clothes Vanth had given him, looking soft and comfortable bundled in blankets. He looked so young, so carefree, the crease Din wanted so dearly to brush away smoothed on between his eyebrows. The long line of him, the gentle rise of his collarbones, the sharp crease of his jaw, the soft light in his eyes…

Luke shifted, his body so soft in the moonlight. Din didn't mind when his little  jetii  spoke; it was one of the things that so endeared him to Din when they first met. There weren't many in his life who let their guard down like he did. It was one thing to speak of things long gone, of a home, a family that had been lost. It was another to speak fondly of the present, of things that were close to his heart. Din had smiled until his jaw ached as Luke spoke of his friends, his twin sister with her young son, her husband, the former smuggler. Chewbacca the Wookie, his droids, a pilot named Wedge Antilles. Luke had friends, lots of them. Surely more than Din had. But it wasn't just the companions that Luke spoke of, but the  connection . He had friends who cared about him, waiting for him back home. Something in his tone made Din feel homesick for a home he had never known.

And after dinner, sitting in the fading light of day, Din let himself sink into Luke's stories, the tales of friendship and camaraderie and survival, knowing, all the while, that the warm feeling he felt when Luke was around was swelling with time. Growing, expanding, settling in as a comfortable sort of feeling. Not desperate or rushed, but soft; intentional. Quiet, like the feeling of Luke's hand in his and the baby in his arms, watching the suns set with peace settling like water in his heart.

Din tries to reciprocate, to share his life with his  jetii , mindful that his stories didn't often have happy endings, and he found himself often prefacing his tales with notes on how his past is riddled with pain and injustice. He wished that he had more joy to offer. His  jetii  was life and light, the shining sun of day, and never before had Din felt more reflective, more morose, bouncing back the brightness Luke offers without restraint, without providing any in return. But all Luke ever did was nod, smile, thank him for his thoughts. And over time, it becomes easier to speak as Luke does, about his joys and sorrows and happy memories. About his mother, his father. His lost covert, all those he had loved and lost.

They often speak of the child, of the present. Din never thought he'd look forward to speaking to Luke this way, but once the day's work was finished and they sat together under the stars, thoughts spilled, and laughter was shared. They spoke of the endless combinations they tried with the same ingredients, the stew virtually unchanging and bland. They laughed over Laele's cluelessness to Cobb's affections, the softness in A'Vod's posture when he held his baby. Din teased Luke for the way he made caff, watery and bitter and full of grounds, and Din's heart leapt when Luke snorted, leaning his head against Din's shoulder. The child came up often, Grogu constantly flittering through Din and Luke's conversations. Worries if he was eating enough, happiness over his success, anxiety over a sunspot Din had found on the child's shoulder the night before. It felt nice, soothing. Almost as if it were a holiday and not a necessary journey. Din found himself relaxing more in Luke's presence than he had with another in years and smiled to himself with joy in his heart when his little  jetii  spoke, and they took the time to laugh together.

"Chandrila is too bright, so is Coruscant, and I spend most of my time there," Luke said quietly, leaning back against the sand. Din looked up, the stars pixilated and dim through his visor but tried to see what Luke saw, anyway. "I haven't seen this many stars in  years ,"

"I like the view of them through the viewport," Din began, his voice soft in the cool light. "The way they rush past in hyperspace."

"Yes," Luke said, a smile on his lips. "I like that too."

They sat in the stillness, the sound of insects and soft wind hanging about them like stardust. It had been…years, probably longer, since Din had let himself relax this way. With Luke, Din didn't have to pretend to be still. He  could  relax, knowing that should the worst happen, he didn't have to fight alone. He didn't have to be the lone protector, the singular offence. Luke was there; he was capable and powerful and able. Willing, as strange as it was, to fight by his side with no qualms or fears.

"My parents told me about the stars," Din said softly, wrapping his arms around the baby. "When I was young, they spoke about the stories of our planet, there were many of them, and I was young when they died. I can't remember what was said…but I liked hearing my mother speak. She was soft-spoken; her skin smelt like cinnamon and star berries. She had—she had a headdress she wore on feast days, and her slippers were embroidered with flowers and birds."

"She sounds beautiful," Luke said, his voice gentle.

"Yes," Din said, his heart torn with the memory. "She was. Very beautiful,"

"Thank you for telling me," Luke said, letting his hand catch Din's, and he marvelled at the sensation, so much different without gloves between them. Luke's hand was warm, soft, his fingers delicate and long. Din looked over, and his heart softened, swelled, the feeling akin to light on his bare face, the joy when the child laughed, the contentment he felt after a good meal. It felt like…like…

Din wanted so desperately to say that he wasn't scrambling, but he  was.  Something deep inside him both wanted to bolt and to sink deeper, to let himself be uncomfortable and vulnerable; something that wanted to take Luke's hand and ask him to stay. It was inconsequential; where would Luke go? He was just as trapped as Din was on this journey of theirs, just as unable to leave or move forward alone. But that wasn't what Din meant, wasn't what he was thinking. He didn't want this journey to end. He didn't want to arrive in Mos Espa, didn't want to part ways in Mos Eisley. He wanted his  jetii  to stay. He wanted him to  stay .

The lone Mandalorian, the man without a covert, without a ship, without a  home,  wherever he went, wherever he settled, he wanted Luke to come too. There was a part of him that was tied to this man, something warm and steady and not entirely his own. Something that would burn like the fire of a thousand suns if his  jetii  agreed to stand by his side. And perhaps for the first time in his life, Din wanted nothing more than to put his creed aside, to leave it be, to love this man fully and without reservation, to prove to him that this wasn't just feeling, it was purposeful. Chosen, circling closer and closer until they were one together.

The baby mewled in Din's arms. Luke turned to watch, and Din's breath caught; his  jetii's  eyes were filled to bursting with love and affection. He looked so comfortable, so  settled.  Almost as if Luke liked Din's presence almost as much as Din enjoyed his. The  beskar  of his cuirass was rigid, the plating and  kute  even more so; the baby must be cold. Din reached for the bantha-fur blanket, the soft thing that had slipped while Luke spoke and tucked it about the baby. It was brushed out and carefully made, gifted to him by Varre when their journey began. Din brushed a hand over the baby's belly, but Grogu was warm, the blue blanket and his many layers keeping him comfortable.

"I'm surprised he's still awake," Luke said softly, looking over at the baby with a gentle smile.

"He slept for a bit this afternoon," Din said, thinking back to the blanket he had secured over the child's saddlebag so he could sleep safely within it without baking in the suns heat. Grogu had slept for four hours and would be active for some time yet.

Luke sat up, reaching beneath him for the blanket he had wrapped around himself and pulled the corner past him, over Din's hips, his legs, his feet. The child snuggled closer in the warmth, and Din couldn't  breathe.  Luke was there; Luke was warm and soft, shifting against him. His legs tangled with Din's, his bare feet pressing into the loose fabric of Din's leggings. His breath was hot in Din's shoulder, his body tucked close, his hand resting on the child's back; it was so  close .

"Is he speaking to you?" Din asked, taking a shuddering breath as Luke shifted closer.

"Yes," Luke said, laughing softly after a pause. "He thinks the bantha fur is itchy; it scratches his nose."

Din grinned, not that Luke or the baby could see, and wrapped the blue blanket closer about him in recompense. "It'll keep you warm,  morut'yc.  I know it's uncomfortable."

"I've never heard you say that word before," Luke said with a yawn, smiling into Din's shoulder.

"It—it means safe," Din said, not sure why he was hesitating. Mando'a was a dying language; Din himself knew very little, mostly nouns and adjectives. Words like  gedet'ye, vor entye, yaim.  Din remembered with a pain the day his elders had taught the  ade  of his covert the words they knew.  Please,  they said, repeating the word in Mando'a. Thank you, home, safe. Words referring a child to a parent, different names for food and drink. Honour, justice, mercy— the words that meant something to his covert were those that had survived. To Din, too. The words of a home he had never known seeped deep into his bones, impressing on him the importnce of remembering what had come before. Din wondered if he'd have  anyone but the baby to teach them to. Wondered if there were any  mando'ade  left in the Outer Rim. His covert was lost, now. The way was maintained. The words he kept deep in his heart, the vow he made to his child, to his covert, to his  buire  the day he passed the trials on his thirteenth name day. He shared the language freely with Luke, in the knowledge that he'd hold them just as tightly as Din did.

"Safe," Luke said, rolling the Mando'a translation in his mouth. Din waited anxiously, a ball of something tight he didn't have a name for spinning in his belly. " Mo…mo roo…morut'yc,"

"Yes, that's it," Din said, letting his head tip to the side so he could see Luke full on. His mouth was soft, Din decided. Soft and pink and warm; Luke's face had relaxed, and the tightness Din had struggled to see all those nights ago in their house at Mos Pelgo faded from his memory. This Luke was wide with wonder, his eyes fixed on the stars, rolling the hard consonants of the word about in his mouth, grinning to himself when he said them correctly.

"Do you feel safe?"

Din almost regretting asking, regretting the upturn of Luke's eyebrows as he strayed from his quiet relaxation and thought deeply at Din's question. It was a foolish one; how safe could one feel camped out in the desert? How safe could Luke feel, stranded on a planet he wanted so desperately to leave, bound together with strangers and torn apart from his life? How safe could one feel laying so near to a man such as he?

Din hesitated, his body tensing and full of uncertainty, and the baby mewled softly, upset and confused at his father's balk.

Luke noticed, his eyebrows creasing together, reaching a hand between them to rest on the soft skin of Din's wrist. The touch was gentle, two delicate fingers resting on his pulse point, both polite and gently entreating. But it was almost too much. His bare skin hadn't been touched by another in  decades . His body, his vessel was not his own; he was anonymous, one of many. To be a Mandalorian is to be inconsequential, and Din took a shuddering breath at the realization that if he wanted to, he  could  be safe here. If he let himself, Luke could make him feel safe.

"Yes," Luke said softly, his knee drawing in the sand as he sat up on an elbow. Luke looked between them at his fingers, turning his expression to meet Din's eyes through his visor. Never before had he wished to be visible, for others to see his face. What would Luke say if he was to see? Would Luke balk, feel uncomfortable? Would he like it? What he was, what he looked like beneath his armour? Din knew that it didn't matter; looks didn't matter. To be seen was to look deeply into another soul. Their  runi,  the very essence of who they were.

Would Luke want to? Would he mind? If he was partial, if he  wanted  to,  kriff,  the things Din would do. The things he  wanted  to do.

Din moved slowly, cupping the child gently in one hand as he leant forward, his heart pounding in his chest, his breath shaky and short; he closed his eyes and blinked them open, sure that he would see Luke hesitate. But he  didn't; his  eyes were the colour of the sky, bright and  excited,  and so close to his own. Din swallowed, not thinking straight as he gently rested his helmed forehead against Luke's.

Din could hear Luke's breath, his heartbeat; he could see the dilation of his pupils, the unsteadiness of his grip. Din buried his hands into Luke's hair and wished he could kiss his  jetii  in the way of his culture, wished for a moment that the Mandalorians didn't exist, the  jetii  didn't exist. That the universe had faded and fallen and all that remained was the three of them, bound together in this moment. Luke grinned, and Din shuddered as Luke's hand snaked behind him, resting on the nape of Din's neck, his fingers long and dancing as they tangled in his cowl.

Din felt his eyes flutter close, and then…just at the back of his mind, something warm, something  different,  something soft and bright pressing gently at the door of his consciousness. Din searched the feeling, surprised and overjoyed to discover it to be something new, something not coming from the baby. It felt older, more sure of itself; it felt like blue eyes and a dimpled smile, golden hair blowing in the breeze.

Luke

Din let out a breath, letting the presence in, letting  Luke  in, not anticipating the feeling of  oneness  his presence invited. With the child, it was communication, warmth, protection, a bond between a  buir  and their ad'ika. This was something different, something new. Luke was warmth and light, but the  connection,  Din could  feel  Luke's thoughts. He could feel the bubbling joy at this closeness, the contentment, the overwhelming feelings of safety, of comfort, of happiness. They were like seeds in the wind, flowing and dipping and fluttering here and there, and Din grinned, the feeling unrestrained and joyful. Happy, he made Luke  happy.

He couldn't remember ever feeling this way before.

He had never… would never… this was  unique . This was him and Luke; this was a feeling he wanted to rest in forever.

A gentle question danced at the edge of Luke's consciousness, and Din choked, his heart overflowing with happiness.

Yes,  Din said again, tears flooding his eyes.  Yes, yes.

Din wasn't sure how long he pressed against his  jetii,  against  Luke  with the child held between them. Wasn't sure how long he kissed him, the warmth of Luke's embrace so comfortable against him. It might've been minutes, hours. A thought danced on the edge of his consciousness, and Din swallowed with trepidation. He wanted to ask,  wanted  to know. When this journey drew to an end, what his future was going to be. He couldn't lose Luke, not now. Not after this.

If I asked,  Din thought, blinking his eyes open, his eyes searching into Luke's. If I asked, would… would you stay?

Din could feel a bubbling spark of joy, a hum at the back of his mind, like Luke was amused, like he was endeared, and Din's heart was calmed even before he responded.  Where else would I go but with you?

[an-ambivalent]

For Our Friendship [Yandere! Prince! Bakugo Katsuki]

Warning: As this is yandere fiction, this deals behaviours that may be uncomfortable or triggering to read.  Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl.

A/N: This is like meant to be yandere from a platonic perspective but idk I think  it can be perceived as romance too so up to you how you interpret it. 

Word Count: 3K 

Friendship 

Katsuki did not live a sheltered life per se. In fact, he was privileged with freedom that many of his status were never granted. Instead of being brought up to be scornful towards those below him in the social status hierarchy, he was encouraged to mingle and interact with children in his age group from all sorts of backgrounds. This was so he would be exposed to different people and their life experiences, learn and grow from them, and become an empathetic ruler who would make decisions that would be best for all of his people and not just a certain demographic. 

Even though his mother was feared for her seldom bursts of her brashness and fiery temperament, inhabitants knew of the kind and caring woman she was underneath her exterior. For that reason, they respected and loved her. The King was just as loved for his compassionate and understanding nature. With two wonderful parents like they were, people often wondered how Katsuki ended up as the way he did. 

It was evident to everyone from his toddler days that Katsuki had something akin to a superiority complex. Granted he used to attack others with insulting jeers and emphasise his own importance above theirs, but no one ever really paused to spare it too much thought. After all, with how his parents was, certainly he would turn out to be a fine young man someday. He would not be a cruel and selfish King like Endeavour from their neighbouring Kingdom. He would be just like his parents, kind and thoughtful, there was nothing to worry about. 

If only everyone had known. 

In his group of friends and friends of friends alike, they would meet at the outpost that was just beside the castle but was never used for anything essential. In the evening, when the days were longer in summer, 5 pm meant the sun still shone heavily and burnt on people’s skin. It was easy to sweat from simply sitting idly. 5 pm was just an hour or so before the temperature transitioned from being hot and icky to the relaxing and soothing evening breeze and the sky being painted with soft pastel shades of pink, purple, and blue. 5 pm was generally when majority of the people’s responsibilities and work hours for the day started to come to an end, and children, like the freaks they were, bustled with energy and excitement to play together. 

Of course, seeing as how Katsuki was the heir to the throne and was going to lead this country one day, it made sense that he was the leader for his friends’ group too. Sometime in the future, they would come to serve him and he was going to be their authority. It only made sense that his lackies established their positions now so they knew where they would stand with him in the future. 

They were going to play KING again because it was Katsuki’s favourite game to play. It was the perfect fit for him. Being the most important and strongest person who killed all the bad guys, saved the pretty princess and remained victorious — it enthralled Katsuki. 

The blond pointed the tip of his toy sword towards the only girl who ever bothered to hang out with them. Little [Name]’s eyebrow started twitching in annoyance before Katsuki had even opened his boisterous mouth. 

“[Name]’s the princess, I’m the king, and the rest of you are the evil goons I’m gonna beat up!” Katsuki exclaimed proudly, puffing out his chest and grinning ear to ear. There were collective sounds of groans and complaints heard throughout the small crowd of children. While they understood that they should do what Katsuki wanted, playing the same game over and over again with the same roles was beginning to become boring. 

[Name] was the first one to speak out. 

“I don’t want to be a princess again. You make me sit out on the action each time. I want to be the evil goon this time! Be the breeder of darkness and cause mayhem!” she claimed excitedly, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. In response, Katsuki’s eye twitched in annoyance and he opened his mouth to respond. However, he did not get the chance to speak because following [Name]’s example, others began to speak out too. 

“Yeah! I don’t want to be the evil goon again, I’m sick of being on the losing side. I want to be the king and be the winner for once!” 

“No I will be the king! I’ll do a better job in fighting than you!” 

“No! I want to be the king!” and so on everyone started to claim. It turned into chaos as one tried to shout over the other, and tried to justify why they would be the best suited for the new role they wanted to play. For the first few moments of the chaos, Katsuki simply watched others make their claims, his eyes shifting back and forth between different people. However, after the claims turned into yelling and they began to become louder with each passing moment, what was happening finally occurred to him: his position of authority and power was being challenged. Not only that, but if someone other than him played the king, then that meant they would be the one who would end up rescuing his [Name]. She was his best friend, only he deserved the honour to protect her. 

Truthfully, no one cared about protecting [Name]; they were simply fighting to be the king because that was the cool position. But that was not how Katsuki perceived it. In his eyes, they were all challenging him because they wanted to replace his self-proclaimed position of [Name]’s best friend. 

Anger boiled in him and he gritted his teeth. He exhaled slowly and while doing so, he  scrunched his nose. This was a clear sign that conveyed he was about to unleash his fury. 

“SHUT UP DAMMIT! I’M going to be the king, no one else!” he bellowed. The loudness of it caused everyone to halt and turn towards Katsuki. By this point, majority knew that an angry Katsuki was not an ideal Katsuki to be around. Slowly but surely, fear began to appear on his ‘friends’ faces and they all started to back away. Katsuki jumped from the empty beer barrel he was standing on and onto the ground, before he glared at them. He was going to go off, however before he could, [Name] stepped up in front of him. 

Momentarily, when her eyes gazed into his, his eyes softened. But they hardened in annoyance again once she spoke. 

“Katsuki you’re being unfair,” she pointed out. Instead of giving her a verbal reply like everyone was expecting, Katsuki growled. Instantly, he grabbed her wrist in a tight grip and dragged her away from everyone else.

Katsuki made them turn into a secluded corner where they would have their privacy, before he cornered [Name] into a wall. Rather than being intimidated by him, [Name] held her stance, although she was frowning. 

“You think I’m unfair?” 

[Name] was about to answer, but Katsuki shook his head. He stepped closer to her and put both his hands beside her head. Feeling uncomfortable with having her personal space invaded, [Name] shrunk into herself. 

“Don’t do that ever again, don’t question me ever again. I’m the only one you will listen to, and who protects you. You’re my friend. No one else’s.” 

Enemies 

It was well known that Katsuki had a fiery temper, and lost his patience easily; and it was also known that when it came to [Name], he was more relectuant in losing his temper, and compared to others, he was more generous and patient with her. But even Katsuki had limits that she should not have crossed. Granted that these limits that Katsuki considered generous would be viewed as toxic and harmful behaviour by an average person’s standard. However, that was not the case for him. In his eyes, he was one of the kindest and sweetest to [Name]. That’s why it really pissed him off when she pushed him past his limits. 

Ironically, it was a beautiful sunny day for the events that had taken place. Gone were the carefree days that consisted of childhood laughter and playing until the sun went down. Now, they were older, and forced to mature through inevitable responsibilities and needing to contribute their own part to the country. In terms of lifestyle and the occupation that fed them, some were more fortunate than others. While her occupation was not the most ideal, [Name] never pondered over it too much because it helped her live a decent life and she did the best she could with it. She always reminded herself that it could always be worse. 

Being a maid at the royal castle was not the worst. Sure, she had to spend most of the hours in her day doing chores and other things she did not like, but it was tolerable. She did not need more, she got enough to support herself and everyone she worked with was nice to be around. She was okay, even if Katsuki did overstep professional boundaries was intolerable, and did not leave her alone like she wanted him to. She reassured herself that she was fine despite her distaste for his overbearing tendencies and how he always bullied others if they ever interrupted ‘[their] time together’. She continuously tried to affirm to herself that her powerlessness against him did not bother her, or the fact that he always tended to pick on one of her closest colleagues in particular. 

She could only be in denial about her issues and avoid dealing with them for so long. 

It was on that one particular sunny day when she found that Katsuki was hovering over her closest friend, Izuku. There was a crowd consisting of other maids, butlers, and common workers of the castle surrounding them. Some even refused to look Katsuki’s way, and others had their mouths hung open in horror. They were left speechless due to the unbelievable gruesome sight that they had seen. 

[Name] had rushed through the crowd  and made her way to the front. She gasped when she saw Izuku lying on the floor with many bruises and wounds covering him, and blood gushing out of him. Right away, her eyes averted to Katsuki who was looking down at Izuku with a bright grin on his face, seemingly looking proud of what he had done. 

“That should teach you to not play the hero and tell me how I should be treating [Name]. Learn your place, and stay away from her. And stop bothering her when she’s spending time with me,” Katsuki went on to proclaim. However, he was not given the chance to speak any further because [Name] had roughly pushed past him and ran towards Izuku’s beaten up body on the floor. She dropped to her knees so she could be closer to Izuku’s eye-level. Then, she started to  rip bits of her apron and began to use those bits to wrap whatever wounds of his that she could. At the sight of his barely conscious form, tears welled up in the corner of her eyes. 

An expression of fury had appeared on Katsuki’s face when [Name] pushed past him, and when he had noticed that it was her, his eyes had softened momentarily. But when he saw that her attention was focused on the dumb good-for-nothing Deku, instead of him like it was meant to, he became prepapred to unleash his wrath. 

He stomped up to her and grabbed her roughly by gripping her upper arm. 

“What the hell are you doing?! I thought I told you stay away from him!” Katsuki snapped.  

Despite the tears in her eyes, [Name] only looked at Katsuki with cold eyes that were etched with revulsion. 

“I’m staying away from you,” [Name] hissed, as she yanked her arm out of his grip. Subsequently to this, she picked up Izuku gently, in order to take him to the infirmary. 

“You disgust me. Don’t come near me or my friends ever again,” she seethed, making Katsuki freeze due to her hurtful words. As a result, he simply watched her carry Deku out of his sight with feelings of betrayal, sorrow, and anger weighing heavily in his heart. 

My sweet 

Approximately, two weeks had passed since [Name] had seen Katsuki beating up Izuku which had resulted in her cutting her ties with him off for good. Although, she had done that, seeing Katsuki was inevitable since she did work at the castle. Fortunately, because her colleagues had witnessed the entire situation with Katsuki, they were understanding of her position and went out of their way to support her. Her superior made sure to give her shifts when they knew Katsuki was preoccupied with his duties and studies. This lessened the chances of him going out of his way to corner her. [Name] was also assigned to work in parts of the castle that were far away from Katsuki as possible, and whenever someone saw him turning a corner, her colleagues made sure to hide her and help her get out of his possible line of sight. 

[Name] was grateful for everything they did for her, and she felt blessed with how thoughtful and brave her colleagues were; rather than leaving her alone out of possible fear from what Katsuki may do to them, they had reunited and chosen to support her. It strengthened their bond; however, surprisingly, their efforts weren't needed. To everyone's surprise, Katsuki had left [Name] alone like she had told him to. While that was something [Name] was thankful for, somewhere in the pit of her stomach, she could not help the inkling feeling that Katsuki was simply biding his time. The Katsuki she knew would never back off so easily. Pondering on such thoughts left her feeling jumpy and on edge. 

Presently, [Name] was mopping the floors of one of the many hallways of the castle when she was approached by one of the butlers, who wore an expression of unease on his face. From the look on his face as he stopped in front of her, [Name] knew whatever he was going to say to her was not going to be good. Her stomach twisted itself in knots due to her rising nerves. 

"[Name], Prince Katsuki requires your presence,” he said, and just after those words were uttered, [Name] felt her heart drop to her stomach. 

“I, I-I’m presently preoccupied with my chores. Can I not see him sometime else?” 

The butler shook his head and gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m afraid not [Name]. He insisted that he needed to see you right away and that if you do not see him he can’t guarantee if Izuku will continue to receive his treatment.” This caused [Name]’s shoulders to tense and instantly she threw her mop on the floor carelessly, and quickly ran towards Katsuki’s room. 

She threw his door open roughly. As she entered his bedroom and her eyes met his ruby ones, Katsuki clicked his tongue in disappointment. 

“Make sure to shut and close the door gentler than how you threw it open,” he remarked sharply, narrowing his eyes. In response, while [Name] did as she was told, she still glared at him. Then, she stomped up to Katsuki until she was right in front of him, and started to roughly poke him in the chest with each word she spoke. 

“What the hell is your problem with me?” 

Katsuki grabbed her by her upper arms before he pulled her right into him. He wrapped his arms around [Name]’s waist tightly as he nuzzled his face into her hair. She tried to pull herself out of his grip, and she was close to succeeding. However, she halted in her movements when she felt Katsuki’s warm breath lingering near her ear, and he spoke the threat that made her freeze. 

“Try to force yourself out of my grip one more time and it would be a shame if your parents were to suddenly lose their jobs,” he threatened. Even though [Name] had physically stopped, it did not mean she had given up entirely. 

“You can’t do that. I know a heartless bastard like you would do that but your parents wouldn’t let you abuse your power like that,” she retaliated. 

“I hate it that you’re right; they wouldn’t let me abuse my power. At least, not without a valid cause. But I think that you and I can both agree that it would be a shame if the essential royal jewels that recently went missing were suddenly found in your parents belongings, don’t you think?” 

[Name]’s shoulders tensed and she snapped her eyes up at Katsuki in disbelief. 

“You wouldn’t.” 

Katsuki smirked. “Wouldn’t I? Do you really want to test me?” 

[Name] gritted her teeth in anger. 

“What the hell do you want Katsuki?" [Name] asked in a murmur. 

Katsuki tsked at her tone of voice in displeasure. 

"All I wanted to do was give my own personal maid a warm welcome and congratulate you for earning that position," he began in a soft whisper, as he tucked a lock of her behind her ear. 

"What?" [Name] asked, feeling utterly baffled. 

Katsuki sighed. 

"You know [Name], when you went to Izuku instead of me and told me you weren't going to bother with me anymore, I must admit it really hurt. But, I was so hurt it made me keep my distance from you. And doing so, gave me time to reflect and think about how I could truly have you all to my myself, even if you wanted nothing to do with me. 

"So I thought, well, why don't I just make you my maid? That way, you will not only get paid more but we can spend as much time as we want together without someone else interrupting us. This way, you'll have to do whatever I tell you to do and I'll have you all to myself."