#not only was who he was - he very identity - a lie ... but the actions and goals he'd spent his life striving for had always been worthless | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sempersirens · 9 months

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sun bleached flies | five

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chapter summary: back to reader's pov, joel is issued a firmer warning, and old vices are revisited

warnings: 18+, mdni. previous dark!joel/raider!joel. angst. threat. violence. panic attack. mention of ptsd/nightmares. lotsa swearing. alcoholism/drug overdose. suicidal ideation.

a/n: i half proof-read this but editing was turning me inside out so i called it a day and pushed post. pls forgive me. love u all

You'd be lying if you pretended that the sight of Joel breaking down on your front porch didn't tug both sides of your mouth into an uncharacteristically sadistic smile.

Big, scary Joel Miller. The man who put the fear of God in most of Jackson's residents each and every day. He was a ghost story in this town; rumours of his past life were exchanged in low voices, whispers gliding through pools of beer at the Tipsy Bison after dark.

He had been a ghost to you, too. An intangible apparition that left you feeling like a little girl afraid of the dark.

But here he was, on your doorstep, sobs racking through his body and tears falling from his eyes.

He looked pathetic. Powerless.

You had an overwhelming urge to touch him as he wept. To place a hand on his upper arm or rake your fingers through his hair and pull, pull, pull. To ground yourself in the moment, to prove to yourself this was real. Your fingertips swelled with power. The feeling was electric; you momentarily understood how men like him became infatuated with the sensation.

You'd grown to realise that men didn't like it very much when they were faced with facts of their wrongdoings. You had seen it first in your father. How he would attempt to convince you, and himself, that he was a good man. That he had tried everything to bring your mother back from the pit she called home, but that she was too stubborn. That it was her decision to crawl further and further into the darkness.

It was interesting, to you at least, how your father had slowly managed to believe his own lie. You had watched as he'd wiped his slate clean and moulded a new identity that only existed in words, not actions.

You looked on as Joel did the same. You watched him come undone, clinging onto the wooden railing for support, assuming the same stance as when you'd confirmed his suspicions about Mia's parentage.

It felt like watching a predator behind five layers of glass at the zoo. You couldn't help but stare at his insides mangling his body; his knuckles white against the railing, shoulders rigid against his neck, jaw clenched and throat humming with gulps of air between sobs. It looked unnatural, like seeing a polar bear sprawled against a cold rock on a summer's day in Georgia.

Repeatedly turning up here, at your home, was one thing. But to demand a right to see your daughter? His unrelenting audacity was astounding; it was the self-confidence only a man who had lied to himself over and over could pull off.

"I need you to quieten down, Joel. I have neighbours." You warned in a harsh whisper, afraid of providing Jackon with a buzz of gossip tomorrow morning.

You pulled him by the arm and dragged him inside to ensure his attention. Pinning him against the front door, taking a second to commend your own strength knowing he could put you on your ass in seconds, you pressed the blade from your back pocket against the base of his throat.

"You make a single move toward those stairs or do anything to wake my daughter, I will gut you. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." He choked in response.

You released your weight from him, finally realising just how big he actually was. He towered over you, his broad shoulders eclipsing the entire width of the doorframe. You wondered if he had stayed beneath your grip solely for your benefit.

"Sit down." You gestured toward the sofa, pacing back and forth as he obeyed.

"M'a good father, y'know." He hiccuped, face buried in his hands.

"I'm sure your Father of the Year award got lost in the mail." You retorted under your breath.

"I may not be a good man, but I've always been a good father. Took down all those Fireflies for Ellie. But now she don't wanna talk to me, she don't even look at me most days."

You weren't entirely listening as he mumbled into the palm of his hands, his body still jolting from time to time with poorly contained sobs.

"Well what did you do to piss her off?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Look, Joel. As much as I love our little heart to hearts, you nee-"

"Mommy?" You hadn't noticed Mia come into the room. Your muscles froze.

"Hey, sweetheart. Couldn't sleep?"

"I heard voices." She rubbed her eyes with little fists.

"I'm sorry we woke you little bird, let me come and tuck you back in."

You moved protectively toward Mia, herding her away from Joel like a shepherd at the sight of a fox in the distance of his flock.

"You were at my birthday party." Mia croaked, peaking around your legs to look at Joel.

He'd straightened his posture as soon as Mia's small voice had startled you both, and now he was leant forward ever so slightly.

There was something you couldn't quite put your finger on reflecting in his eyes. The effects of half a bottle of whiskey, most likely.

"Yes, I was, little lady. Did you have fun?"

"Okay, that's enough, le-" you tried to catch her before she slipped through the gap in your legs.

"Yes, thank you. But the other little girl ate the last of my cake."

Joel chuckled, resting his elbows on his knees with his fingers intertwined.

"That'll be my Ellie. You'll have to forgive her, she ain't had cake in a real long time."

You quickly caught the tear threatening to fall down your cheek.

Seeing the two of them connecting so effortlessly felt like driving past a car crash. You didn't want to look, you wanted to grab Mia in your arms and run as far away as possible, but you couldn't help but stand and stare.

All of their similarities, the quirks and characteristics you could never place in your own daughter suddenly lined up.

The way she looked through her eyelashes with those big brown doe eyes, the slight hook of her nose that you had come to terms with belonging to a stranger.

It was a haunting collision of where you'd come from and where you were headed, your past and future hanging before you with fingers and toes of their own. The man who had made you wish you could tear at your skin until there was nothing left, and the girl who gave you the needle to sew yourself back together. All you could do was stand and watch.

"That's enough, now. Upstairs to bed, Mia." You choked out, placing your body in between her and Joel as if it could stop the same blood from running through them both.

You ushered Mia up the stairs, tucking her into bed with a kiss on the forehead.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, you placed a hand on her cheek and spoke in a low whisper.

"Mia, my love. If you ever see that man in town and I'm not with you, you are not to speak to him. Do you understand?"

"Is he bad?" She whispered in response.

"He's sick, baby. He was outside and alone for a very long time. I just really need you to promise me you'll stay away from him."

"Is he infected?" Her big eyes searched yours for an answer.

"No, sweetheart. It's his mind that's sick."

"Can I get it? The thing that makes him sick?"

"Never. You have honey running through your veins, little bird." You smoothed her hair down, placing a small kiss on her cheek as she giggled.

"Okay, mommy. I promise."

"Good girl. I'll see you in the morning."

She pulled the duvet up to her chin, her eyes fluttering softly shut. You closed her bedroom door and made your way back down the stairs to Joel lingering by the front door. His hands were crumpled in his jeans pockets, eyes concentrating on the wooden floor.

You thought he was about to say something, but rather than hear him out any longer you swatted your palm flat against his chin with all the force you could muster. As the back of his head hit the door with a thud, you connected your knee with his crotch, bringing your face down to his as he doubled over with a groan.

"You must've misheard me before. Pull this shit again and I'll make sure no woman has to suffer the misfortune of putting up with you, daddy of the year, ever again."

Feeling around the side of his dangling body, you turned the doorknob and let him stumble backwards into the night.

━━━━━━━━

"We still on for tonight?" Greg pressed about an hour into your morning patrol.

You'd wondered when the dreaded topic of drinks was going to rear its ugly head. In all honesty, you were far too tired from your poor night's sleep to do anything after patrol, but you were equally too tired to argue.

One drink wouldn't hurt, you told yourself. Hell, you might even manage a full night's sleep with the help of a glass of red.

"Sure. Tommy and Maria pick Mia up from school on Tuesdays, anyway."

"Great, I'll swing by yours around 8?"

"No, that's okay. I'll meet you at the Bison."

Hesitant to host yet another unwanted guest, you attempted to put as much distance between him and your home as possible.

You weren't a particularly antagonistic woman, but knowing Joel had arrived at your front door last night just short of a suit of armour boasting about how he just couldn't stand to hear you spoken about in such a way almost spurred you on to see through your plans with Greg. Joel's southern drawl, which wasn't really all that charming, coated each syllable that fell from his mouth with a sickly, lazed attempt at chivalry. Sometimes you thought he dropped half a word simply to conceal the rot in his chest.

Let him disapprove, you thought, remind him of his place: out of your business. Out of your life.

"Won't believe who I had a run-in with last night at the Bison. Tommy's big brother, Joe?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Don't play coy, Greg. You know his name is Joel."

"Whatever. He's fuckin' nuts. Smashin' his glass around, stormin' out in a damn tantrum like he ran the place."

"That so? What did you say to antagonise him?"

"You think I'm such a troublemaker, huh?" You quietly thanked god that you were riding ahead of Greg, or you're sure you would've caught a stomach-turning glint in his eye at the insinuation you actually thought about him, ever.

As the afternoon meandered into dusk, you wondered how in hell you were going to cope with a double shift of Greg. The leftover bottle of wine from Mia's birthday flickered in your subconscious. A scene played out in your mind of Maria smelling the sweetness on your breath, backing you into a corner and locking eyes with you the way only she could manage.

You hadn't drunk alone since what Maria had coined the incident; you were surprised at her absent-mindedness in leaving the bottle behind in the first place.

Maybe she was testing you.

Perhaps she had undertaken a quiet hypothesis crafted between her and Tommy, one whispered between pillows after the lights went out.

Let's see how long it takes for her to break.

Dr. Lee's voice rang in your ears. Love is conditional and unconditional. He had said. You are not always walking a tightrope - sometimes you are simply walking. Most often, you felt like the rope.

You had watched your mother's descent into paranoia, only a couple of months before she opted for opioids instead. Maybe that was your destiny; a bottle-shaped grave with the fingers you slipped through muddying your favourite dress with handfuls of dirt.

Soon enough, you and Greg were pulling yourselves from your saddles, exchanging pleasantries and specifics about meeting later on. You found yourself on autopilot, calculating the quickest route home to swallow down whatever feeling was clawing at your throat.

Maybe you were imagining it, but your front porch seemed to linger with Joel's presence. Approaching your door, you could see the ghost of his shape leaning against the wooden railing, you could still smell the musk of his skin, hear the thud of his body hitting the door. The latter made you smile at least.

On the other side of the door sat that stillness you had to fight to not let swallow you. You could never adjust to the emptiness that tried so hard to engulf you, so instead, you sought to destroy it.

An hour passed. Relaxing into the familiar warmth finally seeping through your skin, you caught your reflection passing the mirror on the way out and smiled. Lips stained and teeth bared. You tipped your chin to the sky and searched the ceiling for any hint of a higher being.

"Jesus, if you're there, make this quick." You spoke to the peeling wallpaper.

━━━━━━━━

Maybe nobody was listening.

You had decided it was easier to surrender to Greg's ego, accepting that he in fact had no interest in conversing with you, but talking at you.

You tried not to dwell on the fact that you hadn't uttered more than a couple of words in the past hour, but he seemed content with that.

One thing Greg was good for was his willingness to keep your glass full. His stories eventually all merged in to one, you didn't care to differentiate the names or places.

You hated his mouth. The way words shaped his lips, the strings of saliva stretching from his tongue to teeth as he boasted about how many infected he had cleared a couple of months ago.

"I was supposed to be patrolling more dangerous locations, but Maria wanted someone more senior on the perimeter." He lied.

Before you could endure any more of his heroism, Tommy came barging through the door, his face flushed but simultaneously sickly pale. He only needed to call your name once before you were on your feet, jogging toward him. You hoped he mistook your stumbling for urgency.

“Tommy?” You attempted to keep your breathing regulated.

His response floated in the air around you, never truly sinking in until the words Mia and some kinda allergic reaction fell from his mouth.

You clutched your stomach, unsure if the liquor was finally catching up with you or if your gut knew something you couldn't bring yourself to process. Tommy called your name, underestimating your speed powered by instinct, an invisible string tying you to her, tugging, tugging, tugging.

"I'm coming," you breathed, words disappearing as quickly as they'd formed. "I'm coming. I'm coming."

Maria and Tommy's front door was wide open, scurrying bodies illuminated in the rectangular light running to and fro.

You squeezed your eyes tight, for just a second.

"Please." You begged.

Is anybody still listening?

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#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #my fic #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #dee writes #fic: sun bleached flies

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darlingpwease · 1 year

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When will reader go mad? when will the reader go insane just over Yuuta's presence? An untamable killing force that doesnt let anyone touch or even look at Yuuta for too long. They are a danger to everyone and everything... But Yuuta. They lie to yuuta about have their actions are normal for any lover, but yuuta knows better. He knows that this is going too far and yet, he's compliant with it. Reader is violent and doesn't care about others. Yuuta appears as a damsel in distress but likes it.

Yuuta can try and does try to "help" reader. To calm them down and make them less violent. But it makes them worse!

love like mine!

CONTENT WARNINGS: unhealthy behaviour (possessiveness, clinginess, obsessiveness, jealous, worshipping r.), mention of violence (fighting, blood, mention of killing [talk]), name-calling (boy) & pet names (slutty), mind break [yuuta]

consensual noncon (cnc), hypersexuality, heavy petting, somnophilia, sex marathon, unprotected sex / breeding, belly bulge + deep penetration, dirty talk + possessive talk, rough treatment, oral sex (r., g.) hyperstimulation (g., r.), multiple orgasms (g., r.), cum inflation (g.), praise (g.), degradation (g.), mild dumbification (g.),

WRITING STYLE: drabble + headcanons, ±2000 words; reader's genitals are ambiguous but implied as a dick ('cum')

DARLINGS: yuuta okkotsu x reader; dark!yuuta okkotsu, dark!reader, dom!reader, top!reader

Yuuta knew that you loved him.

It wasn't some kind of secret, and it was more than mutual, even if he wasn't such a nervous mess when confessed, talking about how he is very very very very very... thinks you're so cute and so smart and impressive and amazing and so so... breathtaking, and your face looks really good for, uh, his, ugh, well... like, like lips, and, like... Like "he doesn't know how long you've been standing there, but you convince him that you haven't heard anything when try not to look at his face, blush with shame and excitement".

If you could, you would bite him

Yuuta knew that you loved him, and it was more than mutual, but he would rather walk behind you like your tail, cling to your clothes, constantly chat about you and cling to you, as if in search of warmth, as if you were the only one who could make him so needy and intoxicated, whining sleepily until you get back to him, cooking food for you and being ready to take care of you, than admit his feelings to you first, constantly worried by thoughts that your feelings are not like that, that you may not think about him like that, that your love is certainly not like that, that person like you can't fall in love with someone like him.

But even if others were... intrigued enough by this relationship, you always just said that he was 'your' — and that was enough for Yuuta. You were sure that he was yours, he belonged to you, and if someone wants him, then they will have to face you first, — and it was even more satisfying than you thought at first, seeing his happy face as he huddled up to you, spending time until one of you had things to do. It was as if he was puppy, who followed you and nuzzled your leg when you turned away from him, pressing his ears to head and whining until you pet him.

You didn't mind, actually. It was nice to have someone on a, huh, leash.

Yuuta liked to lie in bed even if he didn't want to sleep, got up hard in the morning, was not picky about food (except for some things) and liked when your things were matched, like identical key chains or t-shirts with a picture divided into two or having phrases that are understandable only when you are together. He often did not sleep until late at night, although went to bed early, had a lot of relaxing apps on phone, sometimes bought "couple" portions of food when passed by beautiful cafes that he once wanted to visit with Rika, becomes shy when you playfully exposed "too much skin" or saw something that "should not have seen", blushed with his ears and neck, easily cried from excess of feelings, loved to be near you even if you did nothing, easily scared of horror movies and loved romantic ones. Sometimes he looks somewhere and smiles, and looks at you so lovingly when he thinks you can't see; cries so easily from sad stories and movies, but always says that it doesn't matter and everything is okay, even if his wet red eyes can be seen from a kilometer away; sniffs softly when lies on you, while some silly movie is on TV, — but you can only watch how eyelashes tremble while he is blissfully asleep, warmed up and comfortably laid down.

Yuuta was so cute that sometimes you wanted to pick him up and keep him forever.

Yuuta is not sure if everything is okay when you become more annoyed and frustrated. It's not that you were angry at him or disappointed with him, but you were angry and disappointed, even if brushed off his questions and said that it didn't matter, reaching out to him, snuggling intimately, letting him feel your breath on his skin and how peacefully your heart beats, although your the body was uncomfortably tense. You often stroked him when comforted, but when he stroked you, trying to be as gentle and loving, you ask him to stop, almost biting his neck, and it would be better if you bit him, pinched him, squeezed him, hit him than to remain so silent, as if silently accusing him. As if it was his fault.

... Maybe it really was his fault? Of course, he can't remember that he did something wrong, he does everything you want, he always tries to make you happy, — but when you continue to be silent, not calming down at all, but only becoming even more tense, he feels disgustingly vulnerable, squeezing you in his arms, but knowing that he will not hold you if you want to leave. In the end, you are still restless, ignoring both words and touches, as if about to pounce on someone who will appear in your field of vision, and Yuuta wanted to say something about it, but his tongue was unpleasantly slurred when he looked at you.

“... Everything, everything will be fine. It's fine.”

You have a calm expression on your face, but his heart was beating as if from euphoria when you only press closer to him, touching his neck with your lips, almost scorching it — but it felt like if he tried to hide, moving away sensitive skin from the tantalizing heat, and you would leave, losing all interest. When you ask him if he likes Maki, his heart skips a beat — just like when you talk about Toge, teasing him with the feel of your fangs while he licks dry lips, shyly telling you that yes– but not in that sense, not in the one you're thinking about. He likes them, but not, not like some. Not like, uh, some other people.

Not the way he likes

“... you.”

you.

If he loved anything as much as you, if he adored anything as much, then he would have died; his heart physically won't be able to handle it one more time. Especially when you are silent, and Yuuta knows that if you get up now and leave without an answer, the earth will open up and he will fail, — if he does not die of broken heart, knowing that he only made it up and made it worse, he always makes it worse. In the end, he might as well say this when you are seriously busy, like "hey, you know, I really love you and if you wanted, I would kneel in front of you without any extra thought, just like that, by the way, if you're interested, lol." As if you don't have enough worries anymore and he urgently needs to load you with another one to make you even worse.

What an idiot he is.

... You taste even better than he imagined.

When you wipe away his tears, you seem completely different than were just recently — it doesn't matter, though. When you touch him again, without saying anything, but stroking him, Yuuta notices for the first time how freely he sighs, like all the pressure has disappeared, leaving only you lying on his chest.

♡ Yuuta knows that you don't do well when he pays too much attention to others. This is normal, he knows that you want the best, even if sometimes you get too carried away, dragging him away, distracting him, taking him away — preventing from talking to others, as if confirming how dependent he is on you. After all, he doesn't need anyone but you, and you don't need to remind him of that, right? He is yours, has always been yours, — and Yuuta agreed with that, so what has changed? Do you really have to change just because something went wrong? Did he change because of what? Is it because of them? After all, even after he became yours, they still get in the way, don't they?

If you could, you would destroy everything that hinders you and him — both; that prevents him from trusting you and understanding that you are doing what is necessary, that this is a common thing that couples do. In the end, you should be the only one he look at for so long and so in love — and this is the usual desire of lovers, all lovers are so obsessive and possessive. Any lover will be against their beloved looking at others and wanting other people's views, and there is nothing strange that sometimes you have to be more aggressive. It's just, huh, courtship.

Didn't he see in the movies how they climbed up the chimney to the window of their loved ones? After all, you are doing essentially the same thing — only instead of a chimney, you climb up to him at night, knowing that he is still awake, waiting for you, but without revealing it, breathing heavily when you get under his blanket, warming his cold stomach with hot hands, hearing his heart beat intoxicated with delight and fear of being caught. Yuuta is wet and warm, easily letting you undress and feel how excited and prepared he is, knowing that you will come so that you can not waste time on anything other than fucking him senselessly, ignoring even how much everything will be heard from the outside and how compromising he will look later, with trembling sticky thighs covered with bites and hickeys.

and it's definitely not in his best interest to remove these marks.

When you gently stretch him, holding your hand on his stomach, whispering about how needy and hot he is inside, as if convincing you to stay inside and not move anymore, to bind yourself to him forever, you are not sure if he is sleeping or still awake, — but when his belly fills up again under his inarticulate whining and trembling from another orgasm, while his eyelashes are sleepily fluttering, you can't find the strength to wake him up, kissing the warm skin before changing the pose. It doesn't matter — while he looks so fragile as if you only need one rough touch to break, Yuuta whining enthusiastically when you grab him by the hair, fucking his throat to his purring and gasping moans, even when his eyes are watering, so nothing will happen if his stomach becomes a little softer when you cum inside again, without letting anything leak out.

And even despite his difficulties, he looks perfect when you are inside, as if he was really created for you and only for you, being unable to accept anyone as well as you — neither emotionally, loving against all odds, nor physically, when his stomach becomes bulging from a single push.

It would be amazing if he could stay like this forever: ruddy, panting, warm, filled and blissful, marked by you, — as if fulfilled his destiny as your beloved, definitely given to you by heaven (only if you are this "heaven").

But even when you whisper to him that he is yours, only yours, Yuuta presses even closer to you through a dream, as if confirming this.

♡ If you could, you would scratch out the eyes of anyone who looks at it for too long. This is right, absolutely right, and you tell him the same thing when hug, kissing his neck, assuring that you just don't like when others look at him, he doesn't like other people's attention either, and Yuuta can only agree, feeling how you become satisfied, knowing that he understands this. Of course he understands — how could it be otherwise?

Even if it's a little cruel, if you destroy everything that poses a threat, there will be no threat, and even if you need a little blood, well... Yuuta justifies any means. If you were giving up just for something like this, you might as well let others hug your beloved, kiss your beloved, fuck your beloved, love your beloved — because you are above fighting. If it's just the need to be strong that makes you give up, then are you worthy? If you are afraid of the need to protect the treasure, then do you have the right to own it? If he's willing to do anything to keep you, but you can't protect him, then wouldn't it be better to just give up and leave?

... Even if others are not very happy, by the time you start, everything is over for others; no murders — but for some reason everyone understands that it's better not to even look at him if they don't want to lose their eyes, although you tell Yuuta that you don't know why. After all, shouldn't he be making sure that your eyes don't come off him, instead of keeping an eye on others? Maybe he also wants other people for himself, huh? Isn't you enough for him? Are you not good enough? In love couples, this is called "cheating" — but Yuuta is so desperately in love, almost going crazy when he hears your words, that you never talk about it again, advising only to be not so interested about other people's views if he does not want to lose yours,

and this is enough that he never asks again.

Even when Yuuta sees blood on you one day, but you console him with the words that it is not yours and you did not kill anyone at all. You would never dare — unless he wants you to; in the end, lovers do everything for each other, fulfilling desires and making life easier, helping each other and going hand in hand.

His body twitches from excessive stimulation, but he only greedily-timidly kisses you, whispering how much he loves you, that you are everything to him, even when you tease for how slutty he behaves, spreading his legs as soon as you want, as if constantly thinking about you and how you fuck him, even when you still smell slightly of blood, and Yuuta is too excited, knowing that you smell like that partly because of him.

♡ You're not okay. You're definitely not okay. Yuuta knows this when you become more and more impulsive and hungry, as if having tested his limits and realizing that there are none, you begin to lock him up, looking at how much he will be enough — sweet precious Yuuta, loving when he is hugged around the waist and kissed-biting his tender neck, and when you climb up to him at night, saying that he belongs to you until his brain closes off from the intensity, and when he gets on his knees, trying to calm you down, and when you call him such a good boy, so obedient and handsome, and when you make him choke, saying that he does not need to think, but only obey and please you,

and when he wrap his arms around you, holding you so tightly that you might as well merge with him.

Yuuta knows that you are not okay — no one who is okay will be like that when others look at their lover, but Yuuta gets even more excited when he feels how angry you are, seeing that he attracts attention, and kiss him hungrily in the corner, saying that he is only yours and only for you until his head gets dizzy and his knees start to weaken. If you were a little less decent, you would put him on his knees right there, letting everyone see how he drooling, crying while enthusiastically pleasuring you like a good lover, and he would not even pretend to resist, serving so desperately as if you could leave him at any moment — even if you decided leave him in the room and tie him up so Yuuta doesn't run away.

You are not okay, absolutely not okay, and when others notice it, Yuuta feels other people's pitying looks, knowing that he is in a relationship with someone like you, and hears anxious questions about how he is and whether everything is fine, but he only kisses you adoringly. "Is he okay?" Of course! Why such a question?

If he could, he would wear something that would make it clear that he is yours — if it only makes you feel calmer, knowing that you don't need to protect him like that anymore, since he won't run away anywhere else.

Even when others start to shy away, Yuuta knows that yes, something is wrong, but it's not your fault — he knew what you were like, and you never hid it, so it's his responsibility to calm you down and take care of you if he's the one who makes you feel that way. In the end, he only makes things worse, but he knows that you will listen to him even if everything goes wrong. You love him while he adored you, and he understands that you are only protecting him.

It's just a "love thing", it's "courtship", even if others don't quite understand, just looking at him as a helpless vulnerable damsel in distress.

But you are not a sea monster and he is not tied to a rock and naked; and even if he were, he does not need to be rescued.

Maybe he likes it when you're a monster.

♡ Yuuta whines as you stretch him, feeling him getting more and more full as you move, ignoring twitching and whimpering about stopping while holding his hands firmly behind his back, resting his cheek on the ground. When his body shudders violently from the feeling of fullness again before you push again, without giving him even a little time to get used to his position, biting him so hard that a mark will remain — although he should rather care about how fucked and exhausted he will be by the time you are done with him, so stuffed and sticky as if after being bred all night, with an equally overly sensitive body.

Yuuta says that you should take out stress on him, using it until you are satisfied, he wants to be the best lover for you, he can withstand everything you give, but starts crossing his legs as soon as you undress him — only to have them forcibly spread apart while you make him cum in your mouth as a preparation. Not that you had any stress that you could take out on him, but looking into his brilliant, persistent eyes, you could not say 'no', even if you then pull his hair back, exposing his neck covered with marks to hear muffled moans from how you deep, causing his eyes to roll up from excitement; screaming your name and demanding more while you're biting him, marking his red shoulders and feeling even worse when you see him sticking out his tongue, getting ready to cum again.

By the time you finish, you feel so tired but pleasantly empty, as if you have never wanted anything but rest, especially when Yuuta presses against you, pathetically hastily kissing, adoringly looking at your face, but without saying a word, being unable to even move, holding his hips apart — and exhaling sharply when you put your hand on his soft round belly, stroking, feeling how full he is.

A quiet "I love you" sounds like a cradle, even if you know you have to take care of the mess — but it's so warm and soft that you can't resist the urge to fall asleep next to it for just a couple of minutes.

for the first time you sleep so peacefully, knowing that he is in your hands and will not go anywhere.

au where the reader understands that they are not okay about yuuta and they break up only to get together again later hhhhhh

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for not telling someone I wasn't their bully 100% of the time

Hey so I was a shitty kid and i willbe TA for most of the story. However the ambiguous non-ending spins around my head nonstop

! In high-school I met a friend, Lacy (mtf) who had recently come out. We bonded over mutual Fandoms and shared classes and ended up pooling friends. I was already tight friends with one other girl we can call Sam. Sam went to another school but me and her had been best friends for many years and talked constantly online. After spending a lot of time with Lacy, and with L and S in a group, I started to get a little crush. Me and Lacy had this habit of passing comic notes to eachother between classes and they were just so fun. Anyways I ended up passing them one asking them out and she agreed. We talked about it casually after and I kept the note. In the background, me and Sam talk constantly about Lacy. Outside of school, online, Lacy often goes on long rants and tangents and caps it off being painfully self depreciating and insinuating self harm. I honestly don't hold that against her too much, given how young we were and how much stuff was going on. Very quickly I realize this tiny crush evaporates in the heat of her stomping rants. My gut sinks when Lacy mentions we are dating. It's been less than a day. Sam messages me immediately and I make the terrible snap decision to lie. I lie about it and I have the evidence so my version becomes correct. I tell Sam I didn't *really* ask Lacy out, blah blah. The lie doesn't end. Lacy has an explosive breakdown about it, well warranted, and I lie to adults and school administrators as well. We were friends, I guess she got too attached, we talk all the time but no. I never asked her to date. Papers signed, case closed. Lacy blocks me everywhere. The year ends. I resign to never speaking to her, as the unquestioned bully in this situation I wouldn't have the right to approach her about it. I think I send one anon ask completely unrelated to her or our lives, then block her back as is only fair.

Short hop forwards a month or two. Sam sends me a message about an update to Lacys blog. Lacy is otherkin and Sam is laughing at the kin list, sending anon messages mocking Lacy about the choices and identity. Very unfamiliar with otherkin but struggling with gender thoughts myself I don't respond much.

Fast forward a few years. Me and Sam don't talk much now. I got a boyfriend and couldn't help love how much he ignored me. Everything else fell through cracks. Working at my restaurant job one day, who else comes in but Lacy. We are very busy, I try to be quick, don't make eye contact. "Party of....for Lacy?" She nods. The lobby is full so they walk out the door and never come back. Later when my shift is over I unblock and check her blog. She's made a post saying I was her abuser and had sent her constant anon hate since bullying her in hs. Checking her ask tag I see Sam on anon sends 3-6 hate messages a year. I do nothing and leave everyone be and move on.

Another 3 years goes by. Sam reaches out. She's terminally ill, and we speak stiffly for a few IMs. I don't forgive myself for leaving her and decide it's best we don't keep talking. Another few years and Sam passes. Our old friends go through Sam's papers and pc files reminiscing and find pages and pages of shared chat logs between me L and S. It really was a harsh reminder of how cruel I had been, speaking behind Lacys back and lying. I don't doubt I caused her lasting trauma with my actions.

Part of me wanted to reach out to Lacy and apologize, explaining myself and the misunderstanding and clearing the lie not because I wanted to feel absolved I just that it's finally done now. But it feels so cruel to do it when 1. As the original bully it's still not my place to seek closure 2. I can't just toss my friends corpse under this bus for no reason.

It's soon a decade since we all left school so the time seems well past. I just can't stop thinking about all the mistakes. And there seems no reason to bring it all up after all Sam can't say anything about it anymore and nobody is hurt believing i said these things. So, AITA for not telling Lacy it wasn't me bullying her most of the time?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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thefrogdalorian · 3 months

Text

The Best of Both Worlds: Chapter Ten

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count: 9833 Rating: MATURE (18+ MDNI) Summary: The realities of the secret he is keeping from you begin to weigh heavily on Din's mind and he seeks advice from a certain curly haired co-star on what his next move should be. Things don't go exactly according to plan, not least because of the typically awful English weather... Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, reader passes out from drinking too much and Din lifts her up (But made clear how strong/athletic he is, I struggle to imagine it for myself anyway!). Smut (non explicit, a lot of implied action but it gets a little steamy). Author's Note: Thanks for being patient while waiting for this one! It took longer than I hoped to publish it becaus I wanted to get it juuuust right as this wis a very important chapter for Din and Sunflower. I'd love to know what you think of his decision.... 👀

10. There's A War Inside Of Me - (Din's POV)

Din Djarin was in a bind. A terrible bind. Since meeting you, he had weaved a web of half-truths. The unbelievable, ridiculous set of events that had introduced you into his life had led him to this position: ensnared in the centre of a tangle torrid of lies that formed a web of his own making. Din knew that the position was becoming untenable. But he did not have the faintest idea of where to even begin to untangle himself. All Din knew for certain was that every second that the lie continued brought fresh agony to his anguished soul.

The misery of not being in your presence was only compounded by the knowledge that you did not truly know who he was.

Things did not get any better when Din spent time with you. Every time Din was with you, he feared that the truth would inadvertently slip out somehow and the secret he was keeping from you would be revealed. His fears were well-founded as, throughout the short time you had been dating, there had already been several close shaves. Moments when Din had come precariously close to having his cover blown.

Like on that night in the hotel when a bottle of champagne had almost brought everything crashing down around him…

✯✯✯

Din watched in horror as you raised the bottle in his direction when he entered your suite, after briefly leaving you alone to check on Kuiil and Grogu. His astonishment was not merely because you had, somehow, gotten your hands on more alcohol. It was directed in equal measure towards the little gold envelope you were clutching in your hand.

“Din!” You shrieked. Din was completely bemused by how your previously sober – or at least sobering-up self – had been replaced by the giddy, giggly girl from the noodle shop.

“They knocked on my door and gave me a bottle of champagne! Me! A bottle of champagne! Can you believe that?” You giggled breathlessly. “They gave me this envelope too, addressed to some guy called Jim Freeman! How funny is that? Do I look like my name is Jim Freeman?”

Din still stood there by the door, unmoving, rooted to the spot. You had realised, he knew it. You knew exactly who the man bearing that name was. It was the final piece of the puzzle which had led to you figuring out Din’s true identity. He knew with absolute certainty you were about to confront him about the secret he had been hiding from you. He braced himself for everything to come crashing down around him. When it did not, and you took another swig from the enormous bottle, Din employed his most convincing tone and attempted to steer you away from your current train of thought.

“That’s pretty funny, Sunflower,” Din said with a nervous, awkward chuckle.

“It is!” You giggled. “It’s really funny. Did you know that the guy who created my favourite show has the same name?” You slurred, swaying slightly. There it was. Despite your alcohol-addled brain, you still remembered who the creator of The Mandalorian was. Din briefly tensed up, waiting for that particular train of thought to continue. When it didn’t, he felt himself relax as he realised that your drunken brain was too foggy to piece together the implications. Yet, Din was not yet out of the woods. When you spoke again, his blood ran cold.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, eyes widening as though a lightbulb had just switched on in your mind. “Do you know him? Is Jim Freeman your boss?”

“No, he’s not my boss. It must be a common name. Perhaps they got the wrong room,” Din said quickly, hoping you wouldn’t press it further. He looked around the room, frantic for a distraction for your inebriated mind, which shouldn’t prove too difficult, considering how far gone you were. Din noticed a door leading away from the main room of the suite, giving him the perfect opportunity to change the subject. “Have you seen the bathroom yet?”

“No!” You squealed delightedly.

“Come on, Sunflower,” Din smiled, extending his hand to you. “I’ll show you the bathroom. It’s incredible, it even has a hot tub!”

Din felt himself relax a little as you grabbed his hand and followed him into the bathroom, squealing with delight at the promise of the luxuries which lay beyond the door. He hoped that in your intoxicated state, you had put down an envelope addressed to the writer of your favourite TV show sharing a name to mere coincidence. Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence at all. Din always asked Fennec to book hotels using Jim’s name. He didn’t have much longer to fret about it, though, distracted by your drunken antics as you clambered into the hot tub, fully clothed.

When Din had finally convinced you to dress in the swimsuit you had packed and joined you in the water, he delighted in the enthusiastic way you grabbed him and kissed him as the two of you sloshed around in the hot tub. The intimate moment certainly helped to put his mind at ease, though he did not allow things to escalate much further given your vulnerable state.

During a break in your slightly sloppy make-out session, Din watched, dumbfounded, as you clapped your unsteady hands against his jaw, cradling it in your hands.

“You know, Din. You’re sooooo nice and kind, just like my favourite character Mando!” You giggled, clearly finding yourself hilarious without any idea of just how much your words terrified the man at your side. You sighed, staring at him contemplatively, and added, after a hiccup: “You kind of remind me of him.”

Din trembled with fear, despite the temperature of the water, as the implications of your words sunk in. He fretted that somehow, you had noticed the similarities. That even underneath the armour, with a distorted voice, he had failed to conceal his mannerisms once out of it well enough to fool you. Of course he had, you loved the show passionately. He should have foreseen this moment. He should have been honest from the beginning.

Mercifully, before Din could panic any further, he watched silently – with a stunned expression on his face – as you moved your hands from his cheeks down to his shoulders.

“And LOOK! Look at these broad shoulders!” You said, stroking his shoulders with a sleepy smile on your face. “So strong! You’re so strong, Din,” you slurred, before curling yourself into Din’s side and leaning down to rest your head on one of the shoulders that you apparently so admired. Then, you promptly fell asleep there, alerting Din to the fact when you began snoring loudly.

Din sat there, utterly baffled at the events which had just unfolded. At first, he panicked that you were making some kind of profound comparison between him and the character. As he considered it further, it seemed much more likely that it was your drunken ramblings, brought about due to your crush on Mando. Despite how far gone you were due to the baijiu and champagne, you had come terrifyingly close to the truth. You would never know just how correct you were.

Once he had ascertained that you were out for the count, Din realised that he needed to move you to bed. He sighed as he disentangled himself from your embrace and climbed out of the hot tub. Din scooped you up in his strong arms and was thankful that he adhered to such a strict exercise regime, perfect for lifting the dead weight of an adult human, passed out in a drunken stupor. Din laid you on the bed and towelled you off gently, before carefully tucking you under the crisp sheets. He dropped a gentle kiss on your forehead, before standing back and gazing at you sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil that your words had provoked within him. Din’s heart contorted in pain, as he realised his predicament. Tonight, a line had been crossed. Din knew that he had finally lied to you for the first time. How could he ever look into your eyes again? Your sweet innocent eyes, which gazed at him with so much devotion and admiration. If you knew who he truly was, the secret he was hiding from you, could you ever love him?

After Din left your room, he had lain awake for hours, tossing and turning in the luxurious suite next to yours as Grogu slept soundly in a travel cot by his bed. He couldn’t help but worry about the implications of the night, of the lie. The words he had said due to the golden envelope with Jim’s name on it. Din fretted about what would happen if you ever connected the dots in a way more profound than your drunken admiration of his shoulders. Would he lose you forever?

Din tried to push those depressing thoughts far from his mind as he looked at the little boy who was sleeping soundly by his side. He hoped for both of their sakes that he hadn’t blown it with you. That Din had been able to successfully explain the name away to your tipsy self. Din loved spending time in your company. He was stunned by how natural things felt with you already. Since meeting you, he had felt freer within himself than he had for a long, long time.

If he had ruined things with you, Din Djarin knew that he would never forgive himself.

✯✯✯

The following week, however, it appeared that Din had not ruined anything. Far from it, in fact, if the fact that he was currently making out with you on your couch was any indication. Din’s lips were pressed against yours while your fingers tangled in his hair and lightly scratched his scalp as Din explored your mouth and face with his kisses. He felt himself grow hard when you panted into his ear and asked him whether he wanted to take this to your room. It was a question that only had one reply.

As Din followed you to your room, he grinned as he felt your hand in his, leading him to the place where he hoped your relationship would finally reach a new level. Finally, it seemed that Din would have the opportunity to show you how attracted he was to you, to show you how much you meant to him. His pulse rate quickened as he thought about how he would get to explore every inch of your body with his lips and convey how much he adored you with something more than his words. He thought back to how frustrated he had been that night in the hot tub, when you had been so close to him wearing so little. It had been the sweetest torture. Tonight had been torture of a different kind. Feeling your body so close to his as the two of you had been gradually getting closer to each other as you cuddled and watched a movie. Din had been patiently waiting for you to make some kind of move, some suggestion to take things up a notch. Now that you had, it seemed that he would finally have his chance to worship your body the way he had wanted to since he had first laid eyes upon you. Din couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, how right it felt when he held you in his arms. He couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to get close to you. If the man who first laid eyes upon you at the convention could see himself now, Din knew that he would scarcely believe how lucky he was.

Now, Din was achingly close to having you all to himself as you guided him to your room. To your bed.

Din could barely contain himself when you whined into his ear, begging for him. Especially when you took the lead and pushed him up against the door, searching his mouth desperately with your tongue. The feeling as your hands snaked underneath his shirt and roamed across his skin was intoxicating, every inch of his skin was on fire.

He threw his head back against the door in ecstasy, euphoric at your gentle touch. When Din’s eyes briefly flickered open again, he glimpsed it. He knew immediately what it was. He immediately seized up in fear, hoping for one, brief moment that he had been mistaken and the two of you could continue along to where Din’s mind and body was screaming at him to take this. Unfortunately, as the endorphins left his body, Din accepted exactly what – or, rather, who – the poster depicted. He recognised the pose with an intimacy that only the man who had served as the model for the artwork would know.

It was as though Din was staring into some kind of horrifying, twisted mirror, and seeing his own reflection. He stared in horror at the enormous figure of Mando, looming over the bed. Your bed. The image of himself towering there, omniscient, omnipresent and watching the two of you embracing almost sickened him to his stomach. It felt as though Din, as Mando, was judging himself from behind that dark visor. It was a bizarre, out of body experience.

Din felt a sharp stab of pain, as though he had been winded in a stunt gone wrong. He was instantly transported to the time during the filming of season one, when he had been punched in the ribs after an actor had accidentally struck a gap between his plates of beskar. Just as it had been back then, all the air had been knocked out of Din’s lungs when he looked up above your bed and saw the poster you hung there. The effigy of himself, of the character he portrayed, known to millions of people around the world – including you – hanging there, right above where he wanted to take you. Din knew he couldn’t make love to you underneath a poster of himself. That would be sick and twisted. The thought of the black t-visor boring down at him, staring at him judgmentally as he took you on the bed… it was sickening.

It was then that he had pulled away and ran away, like a coward, rather than telling you the truth…

✯✯✯

Things had not gotten any easier for Din in the days that had followed since that evening in your bedroom. His soul was as anguished as ever, as he realised the precariousness of his situation. It had taken all of his strength and experience to make it to the end of another week of filming. Between takes, however, his mind wandered as he fretted about what to do, about where to even begin, were he to tell you the truth.

Events from that night at your flat in particular had been weighing heavily on Din’s mind. It wasn’t as though Din had ever been in the dark about your love for the show that he was the star of, but seeing an image of himself in your bedroom, right above your bed, had rocked him to his core. It had made him realise what a dangerous position he had put himself in by being reckless and exploring a relationship with you. The worst thing was how much he cared for you. He was at constant war with himself, wondering how he dared to have the right to say he cared for you after the way he had purposefully hidden something from you. After he had lied to you.

Of course, when he thought of that night, Din was frustrated at how close the two of you had finally been to taking your relationship to another level, only to be stopped short by unforeseen circumstances. That frustration paled in comparison to how terrible Din felt at the thought of how personally you might have taken the interaction.

He had tried to make it clear that his reason for backing away was not because he didn’t want you or was not attracted to you. Din knew that if you knew some of the ways he thought about you, you would never think such a thing. It broke his heart to think that you may have ever considered such a terrible thing to be true, when in reality, he wanted you more than anything.

Din ran, in part, because seeing the image of a version of himself staring back at him – a character that you loved and had passionately defended that day at the convention – freaked him out due to its looming presence over your bed. He also ran because seeing that poster was a stark reminder of the secret he was hiding from you. Din realised that he could not in good conscience take things any further without first being honest with you about who he really was.

Lying to you was one thing, a matter he still bitterly regretted but actually falling into bed with you without having first had the guts to tell you the truth about the secret he had been keeping from you? Well, that would feel, to Din, like a betrayal of you. So, despite how much Din had ached to stay and allow himself to fall in bed with you, the pang of terror that he felt as the steely, unrelenting gaze of his own T-visor stared back at him had sent him running for the hills.

Try as he might to push it from his mind and distract himself with filming and taking care of Grogu, thoughts of that night and his near-betrayal of you continued to feature prominently in Din’s mind, even when he was on set. Between takes, he would think of how he was going to cut himself free from the tangle of lies he had weaved for himself.

Every scenario that he ran through in his mind of how to move forward seemed to have some downside. There was to be no way out of this particular predicament. A real bind, in every sense.

Din was in an incredibly difficult position. Albeit one that he had only himself to blame for putting himself in. He knew at the time that pursuing something with you, even after he knew how big of a fan of Mando you were, was probably not the smartest idea. Yet, not having you in his life was unthinkable. You had bowled him over with your attentiveness, your intelligence and your kindness towards Grogu. Just being yourself had caused the ordinarily stoic and composed man, a trained warrior, to lose all rational thought. His Sunflower, his beautiful Sunflower, had brought so much vibrancy to his life.

It was better to tell you the truth before you figured it out yourself. Din knew that if he left it too long and you figured out who he was before he had told you, it might hurt you. He had already had more than enough close shaves. There had been a couple of occasions when things had gotten too close for comfort for Din’s liking, especially for a man who always liked to be in control.

It wasn’t just the envelope that had brought you dangerously close to uncovering the truth that night in the hotel. There was the other moment when the two of you were splashing around in the hot tub. He remembered how you had insisted that he reminded you of Mando. It was more of a comparison to his physical attributes, rather than any concrete theories. But still, Din had panicked, frantically wondering whether the bottle of champagne that had been delivered in Jim’s name had made something click for you. He tried his best to maintain an air of calmness outwardly, while inside, Din was frantic that you hadn’t been in an entirely drunken stupor when he explained the name away.

Mercifully, the following morning when you woke up, Din discovered that you had been so out of it that you hadn’t even remembered whether you had slept together and had been utterly convinced that you had gone to the spa. If you couldn’t remember those two things, there was no way you remembered the envelope or the comments you made to him in the hot tub. It had been too close for comfort, but you had not brought it up on subsequent dates and it seemed that it was long out of your mind.

Din wondered if these close calls, the way you had unknowingly come close to uncovering the truth, had perhaps been a sign that he needed to be honest with you. He considered how, if your hands had roamed just a little lower than merely his stomach when the two of you were kissing in your bedroom, things would have passed a point of no return. Din wanted you so badly that he was sure that even having seen the poster, he would have been left with no choice but to stay with you. To finally get close to you and feel your body against his, without any barriers. Just the two of you, finally becoming one.

Perhaps it was for the best then, that he had spied the poster when he did. That there was possibly a hint of hesitancy in your ministrations which had bought him some time. Instead of focusing on his frustration, Din wondered whether he should be grateful that events had played out the way that they had. He would never be grateful that he had pushed you away and upset you, of course. But perhaps this was the wake up call he needed, an opportunity he should seize as now, he had no choice but to address his bizarre behaviour.

But every time he imagined himself telling you the truth, Din felt himself trembling with nerves, in stark contrast to his usual stoic nature. He wondered how he would ever get the words out, how to even begin to tell you the truth. It was such a ridiculous, unimaginable predicament that someone as ordinarily calculating and meticulous as Din had gotten himself into.

It didn’t help that he could not shake you from his mind, either.

No matter how hard he tried, visions of your face would not stop flickering through his mind. Even when he was not with you, Din longed for your presence, to feel you close to him. To press more kisses against your soft lips and traverse your soft skin with his hands. He could not stop thinking about you, no matter how hard he tried. Not when he was on set, or alone at home with Grogu, or lying awake at night. You were all that was on his mind.

✯✯✯

Somehow, despite how distracted Din had been, he had successfully made it through another week of filming The Mandalorian without another disastrous day like the one he had after encountering you at the museum when he had been sent for an early lunch. Well, almost made it through. It was Friday lunchtime on set and Din found himself sitting alone in his trailer with only his racing thoughts for company. The silence gave him an opportunity to quietly contemplate his next move. It was a warm summer's day, so Iggy had taken Grogu to a local park to get some fresh air so the little boy wasn’t cooped up in the studio all day. In his absence, Din felt his emotions all the more strongly, with no one there to distract him from fretting about how he was ever going to tell you the truth.

At the peak of his despondency, there was a knock at the door. Din placed his helmet atop his head and padded across the room, and discovered a certain eccentric, curly-haired co-star at the door.

“Heard Grogu wasn’t around, figured you might want some company,” Peli offered as she marched across the room and took a seat on the plush sofa.

“Thanks, Peli,” Din nodded, before taking a seat next to her. He sighed. Din was grateful for her presence, the distraction she would provide from his anguish, but he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“You seem a little stressed,” Peli noted.

Din shrugged. He wasn’t always the most skilled at talking about his feelings, especially not with someone who could be as abrasive as Peli.

“How are things going with your girl, Mando?” Peli asked. If Din had been able to drink the coffee that he had been sipping before Peli had entered the room in her presence instead of needing to hide his face behind a helmet after she entered, he was sure he would have spat it all over her.

“I… uh, fine,” Din stuttered.

“You don’t sound so sure,” Peli said, raising an eyebrow.

“No, things are great. She’s great. Fantastic, intelligent, beautiful. So funny and caring towards Grogu. It’s just… me,” Din sighed.

“Why? Did something happen?” Peli asked, her voice full of sympathy.

“I haven’t told her the truth, Peli,” Din admitted. “I can’t, I’m too afraid of losing her. But I fear if I don’t soon, I might push her away.”

Din elected to omit the steamier details of just how and why he had ended up in your room, knowing that Peli would never let him live it down otherwise. He could already imagine all the ways she would tease him, so he continued with his retelling of events, minus the salacious details:

“I was at her flat last weekend. We were having a lovely evening but then I saw, in one of the rooms, that she had a poster of me, of Mando. I knew she was a fan but just seeing it, I freaked out,” Din winced at the memory. “I ran away. I feel like I can’t lie to her anymore, but I don’t know how to tell her the truth.”

“Oh, Mando,” Peli said sympathetically, squeezing Din’s arm just underneath his pauldron in an attempt to console him. “It seems as though you’re really in a tough spot.”

The fact that Peli wasn’t laughing or teasing him, somehow made Din feel even worse about the whole thing. At least if Peli had made some teasing remark or joke about it, things would have felt far more normal and less intimidating to Din. Instead, the fact that Peli actually felt bad and was comforting him, was a testament to the seriousness of the situation.

“I know. I don’t know what to do, Peli,” Din admitted.

“Can you tell her?” Peli asked. “I mean, are you allowed to? Is there anything in your contract that would forbid you from telling other people?”

“No,” Din replied, honestly. “I can tell whoever I want, but others are forbidden from naming me. There are only a handful of people that know my identity.”

“So if you wanted to, right now, you could take your helmet off and show me your face?” Peli said, clearly stunned at the information.

“I could,” Din confirmed.

“But you’re not going to.”

“No, Peli. I’m not going to,” Din agreed, relieved that the question was hypothetical, that she was not pushing him.

“Well, that’s interesting to note,” Peli said with a smirk and Din found himself relieved that the characteristic teasing tone he was so used to was back. “No, seriously, Mando. I think you just have to come out with it and tell her the truth. Does she talk about the show a lot? I mean, does she talk about it enough that after telling her the truth, you would feel like she was only staying with you because she’s a fan of the show and not because she likes you as a person?”

“No, not at all. Our connection goes deeper than all of this,” Din said, gesticulating towards his armour. “She mentioned Mando once when she was wasted. She said that I seemed as nice and kind as him and something about how I had broad shoulders. Which I suppose are all compliments. And I didn’t realise that people paid any attention to my shoulders.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Peli nodded, her eyes glazing over slightly as she agreed. “I mean the suit! The suit just makes you look broad!”

Din smirked behind the helmet and shook his head at the kooky woman before him. Peli could be ridiculous sometimes. Din always felt as though she was an older relative, always keen to look out for him. Until sometimes, when she would make comments which led Din to believe that she possibly had a crush on him. Theirs was a confusing dynamic, but ultimately Din knew how deeply they both cared for each other.

“Anyway, Mando. I think you have to tell her before things get any more serious between the two of you. If you wait, she might feel as though you lied to her. Maybe she’d even resent you, after finding out the truth. I don’t think there’s any way around it. Being The Mandalorian is such a big part of your life, I can’t imagine you hiding that from anyone. I mean, have you considered the fact that you will probably leave the country soon, after filming finishes?”

“No. I hadn’t even thought of us leaving. Um, I was considering sticking around since Grogu seems to love it here so much. It’s quiet and peaceful. I was thinking Grogu and I could build a life together here, with her.”

“Awwww, Mando. Look at you, settling down, putting down roots!” Peli teased.

Din huffed a laugh from underneath his helmet, but truthfully Peli’s words terrified him. Could he ever truly stay in one place and allow anyone to occupy his heart entirely? Din knew that if anyone was going to convince him to finally make a home somewhere, it was going to be you.

That thought should have excited him, thrilled him as he imagined your future together. But as he went about the rest of his day and finished filming, all he could think about was the terror of losing you forever when he finally told you the truth. Lying about the name on the envelope, deflecting questions about his job, while you ranted about yours. Would you ever forgive him?

Seeing Grogu after he arrived home did not even help his anguished soul, either. Even as he played with his son that night, visions of your face contorting in pain and rage as you discovered the truth about his identity played in his mind, over and over.

Despite understanding that telling you the truth was the best course of action, Din was still absolutely terrified. After putting Grogu to bed, he sat on the couch and texted you, laughing at the humour that shone through in your every word as you caught him up on your week. With each string of letters and message received, your words unknowingly only added to Din’s anguish. The feeling that he continued to live a lie was never far from his mind. His guilt for starting something with you when he knew that he was hiding a secret that would surely change everything loomed over him.

Din knew that he had to tell you the truth about who he was. Telling the truth was the right thing to do. A man as honourable as Din valued the truth above all else. He knew that it might cost him everything, but he couldn’t stand to see you hurt if he waited any longer to tell you the truth. Din knew that coming clean could change everything between the two of you. He was aware that you might even hate him after discovering that he had not been entirely transparent with you, but it was a risk he had to take if he was going to secure any kind of future with you. Din knew that healthy relationships could not be built upon lies and deception. At least not without them crumbling eventually.

It wasn’t going to be easy, though.

As he went to bed that night, Din fretted that the next time he laid his head upon his pillow, he would have lost you forever. He feared that you would never speak to him again after he finally came clean and revealed the truth…

✯✯✯

Ding dong.

Din bounded to the door enthusiastically after hearing the doorbell ring, leaving Grogu momentarily unattended in the kitchen. Despite the part of him that was dreading the news that he knew he would have to impart on you, he couldn’t wait to see you. Din had been practically giddy all morning, the thought of finally having you in his house was an electrifying prospect.

Din hoped that telling you the truth wouldn’t change your relationship in the long run. He supposed that you would probably take some time to process his revelation, and he wouldn’t be able to blame you for that. Din imagined that discovering that the guy you had been dating for a couple of months was secretly the actor from your favourite show would take some time to wrap your head around. For a man usually so meticulous and deliberate with his actions, surprisingly, Din hadn’t thought precisely about how he would tell you. He just hoped that he would slip it into conversation perhaps gradually with some hints that would lead you to hopefully connect the dots without too much intervention from him.

The first sight of you, after Din opened the door, caused all thoughts of telling you to flee far from his mind. You looked so beautiful, even though you were not dressed for anything more formal than a casual afternoon with Din and his boy. He stood there for a second, transfixed at the way you wore your hair and how your clothes complimented your features perfectly.

“Earth to Din!” You giggled, waving a hand.

“Oh!” Din shook his head, finally realising that he had been standing there wordlessly admiring you. “Come on in, Sunflower.”

Din’s heart swelled as you smiled and stepped over the threshold, gracing his cottage with your presence for the very first time. It only expanded further when you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. When you finally broke away for air, you leaned your forehead against Din’s and smiled shyly.

“Hi,” you whispered. “Been wanting to do that all week.”

“Me too,” Din smiled, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. “Come on, I’ll show you where we’re having lunch.”

Din stepped back from your embrace and began walking through the corridor which led to the kitchen, eager to see his son.

“Grogu can’t wait to see you, I made us–” but Din trailed off when he realised he did not hear your footsteps behind him.

Din smiled at the way you had stopped in the corridor, a look of awe on your face as you glanced out of the old paned window towards the rolling lush green hills that lay just beyond the window. When he had first moved here, Din had found himself just as awestruck as you were. Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten just how beautiful the view was. Life had gotten busier, his schedule more hectic... but thankfully you were here to bring some peace back.

“In under an hour I’ve gone from the sprawl of the city to something as peaceful and scenic as this,” you whispered in amazement. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” Din breathed as he walked up behind you and placed his strong arms around your waist. He nuzzled into your hair, enjoying your scent and delicately kissed the top of your head.

Din was happy to hold you in that embrace for a few minutes, holding you closely and tightly as if he were scared that you were going to slip away from him somehow. He felt as though you might, given the enormity of what he had yet to tell you. Plus, he wanted to make up for the way he had pushed you away the previous week and underline how attracted he was to you. Din probably could have stayed there all afternoon, holding you close and feeling the calmness and warmth that spread throughout his body whenever you were in his arms. But it seemed that his son had other ideas. Grogu let out a loud babble from the kitchen and Din released your waist, not without one final kiss.

“I’m afraid that my cooking skills are not quite as good as yours,” Din admitted as the pair of you walked to the kitchen, hand in hand. “So I just made us some sandwiches.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you smiled as you entered the kitchen. “Hi Grogu!” You said cheerfully to the little boy who was sitting patiently in his high chair at the table, clearly eager to commence with the lunch that his father had lovingly made for him.

Din loved the way you greeted Grogu, you spoke to him as though he was a person and not just a cute child. Din knew that somehow, Grogu sensed the world around him on a deeper level than most children of his age did, due to his past. It was something that both broke his heart but made him incredibly proud to be this little boy’s guardian.

“Those sandwiches look like they were made by someone who loves you very much,” you said, nodding towards Grogu’s plate before smiling at Din.

Din found himself blushing as he realised that you had noticed the way he had prepared Grogu’s food. He had painstakingly cut the crusts off Grogu’s sandwiches and chopped them into triangles. It was just how Grogu preferred them, he couldn’t resist spoiling the little boy and giving him pretty much everything that he wanted. If there was something that made Grogu happy, Din would not hesitate to accommodate him.

✯✯✯

After lunch had been eaten, Din was about to suggest going for a walk. He thought that he could perhaps use the stunning scenery to his advantage, to distract you from the wrath that you would no doubt wish to reign down upon him after you discovered the information that he had been hiding from you. But you were first to speak, and your words struck terror into Din’s heart.

“You know, it’s funny because I thought I recognised the name of this village for some reason, and when we drove over here, the driver was telling me that there are some film studios here,” you babbled excitedly. “He told me that this is where they made the original Star Wars movies. I didn’t realise how close it was to where you live, Din!”

Din was frozen by your comment, utterly blindsided by your words. Was that a hint, a question? Was it wrong that he desperately hoped it was? At least he wouldn’t have to begin the conversation himself, then. Plus, Peli had suggested that he take a run-up to the reveal by perhaps first telling you that he worked on the show and then eventually saying that he was in fact The Mandalorian. Din knew that this would be the perfect chance to slip it in, tell you that yes, he did work at the studios and what was more, he worked on your favourite show. Instead, Din felt himself frozen, paralysed by fear. Despite the moment which had fallen into his lip, he could not seize the opportunity.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, looking down in embarrassment. “I forgot you don’t like Star Wars.”

Din breathed a tremendous sigh of relief, the moment had passed, without him even needing to intervene.

“It’s fine, Sunflower,” Din smiled. “I never realised just how close it was,” Din shrugged, busying himself with clearing the plates.

It was another lie. They were almost becoming too easy now, too habitual. If you weren’t currently speaking to Grogu and making the little boy roar with laughter, perhaps Din’s mind would have been spiralling and berating himself for his lies. Instead, he was smiling back at the interaction as he tidied the mess from your lunch away and thinking just how perfectly you had already fitted into life in his cottage…

✯✯✯

Din felt the comforting weight of Grogu in his baby carrier, nestled against his chest as the three of you strolled through the stunning countryside. It was a presence that Din attempted to ground himself with, to draw strength from as he thought about beginning to tell you the truth. The words ran through his mind, over and over. But he could not bring himself to vocalise them, to begin telling you the truth. Din peered down at Grogu’s curly hair, feeling his heart constrict when he thought of all his son had been through in his young life. The child had seemed happiest here, in this location, out of the numerous places they had lived together. Not only that, but Grogu had seemed at his happiest with you. How could Din ever bring that crashing down for him?

As you strolled up a hill towards a particularly stunning view that Din enjoyed hiking up to whenever he had a day off, Din considered that now would be the perfect opportunity to just come clean to you and inform you that he was in fact, the man behind your favourite TV show. Something was stopping him each time. It was the way you looked, your complexion glowing against the landscape. It was the way you felt, your soft hand in his, fingers laced tightly together. It was how you made him feel, the warm presence in his chest whenever you were near. No matter how hard Din tried to visualise him saying those words and finally vocalising the rough script that had been turning over in his mind over and over… Din just could not do it. He was utterly terrified of losing you, of ruining this thing that had become so precious and had been just what you both needed. To ruin that, to potentially cause himself and Grogu to lose you, it was unthinkable.

So he stayed quiet. Din realised he was doing something he utterly despised: being a coward. But he rationalised his decision as he looked down at his son, realising how calm and serene Grogu was at this moment. There was no way Din could contemplate sacrificing his son’s happiness.

Din’s silence caused his heart to flutter with anxiety when the two of you approached the crest of the hill and the grey buildings came into view. Once again, he had inadvertently put himself in a position where Din and Mando’s worlds were coming dangerously close to colliding.

Din regretted his decision to suggest this particular route almost as soon as the three of you made it to the crest of a fairly sizable hill about half a mile from his house. His regret did not come due to the grey clouds that had suddenly rolled in across the horizon. It came because he realised, far too late, that his place of work was on full display from up here. The grey buildings that comprised The Volume were visible, even behind the tall ferns that had been planted to try and obstruct the views. Din knew that since you were such a big fan of the show, you likely knew full well that it was not only the original Star Wars movies which had been shot here, but The Mandalorian too. Inviting you to his home had been a risk for numerous reasons, but this walk had been downright reckless.

Din glanced over at you, wondering if you had connected the dots. He found your expression impossible to read, but probably one of awe due to your surroundings rather than realising the significance of the buildings. If you had realised their significance, however, you had not vocalised it to him. Din hoped, as you stood there appreciating the view that you were too busy focusing on the rolling hills and lush greenery to realise the importance of the buildings before you.

Mercifully, the climate of Din’s temporary home country was here to bail him out. It was early August, but that did not stop the typical English weather from being as unpredictable as ever. The grey clouds that had rolled in suddenly looked more ominous than they had when the three of you had first reached the crest of the hill. Din noticed that the air was suddenly incredibly peaceful and still.

But not for long.

The heavens opened, and thick raindrops were suddenly pelting the three of you. Grogu let out a squeal as his father moved to place a hood over his unruly curly hair. Din looked around, fearful that you would be cold and upset that your walk had been ruined. But instead of finding you despondent or enraged, Din was relieved to see the enormous grin that had swept over your features. As the pair of you began to take in your predicament – stranded on top of a hill with a toddler in tow as a storm swept in – Din found that he could not do anything except laugh. He was almost bent double, hands on his knees as he dissolved into fits of giggles. Din had not been this carefree, he had not laughed this much for a long time. But, here, with you… in this stupid situation that would have probably completely freaked him out if he was here with anyone else on earth… he could do nothing more than laugh. It was a freeing, welcome experience and he soon found that his cheeks ached after all the laughter.

“There’s a tree over there, should we shelter underneath it?” Your suggestion finally snapped him out of his glee. The idea of waiting out the storm underneath a tree seemed palatable at first, but Din soon realised that this might be a storm of such veracity to include lightning. After all, the rumbles of thunder had been the last sounds before the heavens had opened.

“What if there’s a bolt of lightning?” Din replied, having to shout slightly over the noise of the rain. He suddenly realised that despite the time he had spent outdoors in his life, he did not comprehend storms as well as he should have. The English countryside was rather unfamiliar terrain to him, after all.

“Good point,” you agreed.

Din looked at you quizzically as you reached out to take his hand in yours. Although the two of you had walked up the hill, hand in hand, he had dropped it in all the commotion of putting the hood on Grogu and making sure his son was okay. The rain was pelting down with a vengeance now, hard enough that Din was momentarily concerned that it was going to leave bruises. He was just about to open his mouth to ask you why you had taken his hand, when, without warning… you started running down the hill. Din almost found himself knocked off his feet, fortunately, his reflexes meant that your actions did not send Din and Grogu tumbling down in a muddy heap.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline of running hand in hand with you, or the distinct giddiness that rain has a unique ability to cause, but Din could not stop laughing the entire way home. Even as your pace slowed once you did not have the slope of the hill to assist your journey home, he was still breathless with laughter. The rain slowed somewhat as the three of you made it to the village, and had almost stopped when Din’s cottage finally came into view. Din was soaked to the bone and fretted as your teeth began chattering as you walked up the path.

“The heating should be on,” Din offered as he pushed the old wooden door open.

“Excellent!” You squealed, making a beeline for the radiator. “I’m staying right here!” You sighed, clinging to the radiator for dear life.

“Alright, I’m just going to bathe Grogu and then put him down for a nap,” Din explained.

“Okay, see you later Grogu,” you smiled. “And well done for being so brave.”

Din grinned as he ascended the stairs, his heart soaring at your words. Some people may not have even picked up on how scary a storm could be for a child as sensitive to Grogu… but you were different. You stunned Din with the depths of your capacity for love with every interaction.

✯✯✯

When Grogu was bathed, dried and settled for his nap, Din descended the stairs. A smirk appeared over his features when he realised that you were still in the same position. His smirk dropped as soon as he realised that you were wearing significantly fewer clothes than he remembered.

“Sorry, I had to take my shirt and jeans off,” you shrugged. “Couldn’t bear the feeling of wet clothes.

“It’s fine, Sunflower,” Din nodded, but his brain was struggling to comprehend the sight before him. Of you, topless, in his house.

“Din?!” You exclaimed, Din snapped his head to look at you, not realising that he had been ignoring you. “I said, is it okay if I take a shower?”

“Oh! Right, sorry of course you can. I’ll get you a spare pair of pyjamas.” Din said, mouth slightly ajar as he regarded you in just your underwear. He had seen you in only a swimsuit that night in the hotel, of course, but that had been a few weeks ago. And you had been wasted. Ogling you then had felt like he was taking advantage of you… but now you seemed to know full well what you were doing. Your shy smile indicated exactly that you knew the impact you were having on his body.

That night in the flat, when you had been about to finally fall into bed together until the poster that hung above your bed had stopped him in his tracks, was a distant memory. Din had cursed that poster endlessly since that fateful day, now perhaps he would curse it no more. Every day since then, he yearned to touch you, to taste you. Every time he had gotten himself off quickly in the shower when his thoughts had become too much to bear any longer, it was you who he imagined as he pumped his length with his fist. Your mouth around his throbbing cock, so soft, so warm…

“Hello! Din!” You said, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Uh, shit. I’m sorry.” Din said, absolutely mortified that you had caught his mind wandering again.

“I was just asking you to show me where the bathroom is, so I can take a shower. My eyes are up here, mister,” you added, with a flirtatious smirk.

“Sorry, yes, of course,” Din quickly recovered and moved in the direction of the stairs.

As he ascended them with you following closely behind, Din took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his racing pulse. He had invited you here to tell you the truth about who he was. Now, thanks to the weather, things had taken a risque turn that he had certainly never intended.

When he reached the bathroom, he pushed the door open and switched the light on. You stepped inside and murmured your thanks.

“Enjoy your shower,” Din breathed and then turned around to leave.

Din jumped as he felt your fingers close around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. You pulled him back towards you and placed your fingers into his curly hair. For a moment, Din wondered if he was going to pass out as you played with the damp dark brown hairs at the nape of his neck. He sighed and gazed at you adoringly. Then, Din groaned as you tilted your head to the side to kiss him, firstly on his mouth and then along his jaw.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t come with me,” you purred, your hot breath washing over the shell of his ear. Din shuddered with want.

Din nodded and took you by the hand. There was no going back now. No Mandalorian posters to stop you, no revealing secrets to halt this moment in its tracks. Din was already hard, throbbing with the weeks of pent-up desire that being close to you without having the opportunity to act upon it had produced.

Din wanted you, badly.

As the two of you stood there in the bathroom, Din was vaguely aware that he didn’t want the first time he had you to be in the shower. He wanted to take you to bed, worship you with his lips and tongue, show you how special you were to him, how much you had changed his life. Din wasn’t sure that pushing you up against the tiles of his bathroom as the hot jets of his shower cascaded over your naked bodies was quite what he had envisioned for your first time together. Then again, there were many ways that you had taken Din by surprise throughout your relationship. The more he considered it, the more desperate your moans got as he continued the steamy makeout session in his bathroom with you, the more Din was certainly coming around to the idea.

When you reached around your back to peel your wet bra off your body, all protestations had left Din’s mind. You were so perfect, so beautiful, you clearly wanted him so badly given how your cheeks were flushed, your lips parted and your eyes darkened in desire as you gazed at him through your eyelashes. How could he deny you what you wanted?

“You’re beautiful,” Din rasped as he gathered you in his strong arms, bringing his lips to your neck and kissing a trail down towards your chest.

“Let’s get in the shower,” you panted. Din was pleased that you had somehow maintained enough brain cells to remind him of why you were in here in the first place. Neither of you particularly needed any warming up anymore, but there was a feeling of griminess that lingered after being caught in the rain like that.

As Din stripped out of his remaining clothes, discarding them alongside your soaked underwear in a heap on the floor that he would deal with later, he almost tripped in his haste to climb in the shower alongside you. Knowing that you were waiting for him, naked, and how badly you wanted him was enough to almost make him lose coordination in his desperation. Din could hardly believe this was happening, this was real. Although at the time he had cursed the English weather for being so unpredictable, it seemed now that it would be a blessing in disguise. You had ended up exactly where he had fantasised about you. Except this time, Din wouldn’t be stroking himself as he moaned your name desperately into an empty bathroom. This time, you would be moaning his name as you finally came together as one.

Din entered the shower and practically moaned at the sight of your naked form under the water. He grinned at the sight of you waiting for him, a perfect vision…

✯✯✯

Din’s breath hitched in his throat as he walked into Grogu’s bedroom and saw the sight before him. After the shower the two of you shared – which had devoted far more time to pleasure than actually cleaning off, but it had suitably achieved its initial goal of warming both of you up – Din had given you a pair of his pyjamas to change into while he went to make a hot drink. The sight of you wearing his old maroon flannel pyjamas had sent a bolt of desire coursing through him that almost sent him stripping you straight back out of them. A task he would have relished, were it not for Grogu’s mewling over the baby monitor. Din had looked at you apologetically, but you had waved away his concerns and instantly gone to assist his son.

When he returned holding the steaming mugs, he saw you sprawled out on your stomach on the floor of Grogu’s bedroom, playing dinosaurs with him. It was a scene so shockingly domestic that it set every single one of Din’s nerve endings alight. You were being so attentive to Grogu, playing with him as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Grogu was giggling and clapping his chubby hands together. Din knew that he had had every intention of telling the truth, but it seemed as though the threat of missing out on moments like this was too great a risk to contemplate. Din set the mugs down and stood back to continue observing the scene before him.

“Thanks,” you smiled, before returning your attention to the boy.

“Come on Grogu, let’s play with this,” you said, leading Grogu to the corner of the room where a small wooden train set lay once he had become uninterested in the dinosaurs.

Observing you there with Grogu, Din felt as though the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place. Everything was too perfect. The hours Din had lay awake, worrying whether he was doing the right thing for Grogu by introducing you into their lives seemed like a distant memory now. Now, in you, Grogu had finally found someone he was comfortable with and happy with.

Din loved watching the two of you play together, swallowing a lump in his throat each time little giggles filled the room. That boy had been through too much in his life. To see him so happy was a miracle. Din knew that he couldn’t do anything to jeopardise that. If he told you the truth, he would potentially lose you and the love you had for Grogu, leaving their lives all the poorer for it. He would lose the love he hoped you already had, or would one day have for him, too.

Din had lost his nerve. He should have been disgusted by himself, for cowardice was not the Mandalorian way. Family was, however, an integral part of being Mandalorian. Din knew that he had taken this decision for the good of his family, so he reasoned that he should not be too harsh on himself. The time for processing the decision he had made could come later, for now, it was time to appreciate your presence.

Din grabbed a brightly coloured wooden carriage and sat cross-legged on the fluffy carpet, smiling at the way the two of you seemed so thrilled he had joined in the game you were playing. The way you had fitted in with his home, as though you had always been here, it was difficult to believe that it had just been him and Grogu for so long.

As he pushed the wooden trains around with you and Grogu, Din almost dared to dream that the three of you were becoming a family.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

#my fics #tbobw #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #din djarin smut

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festeringfae · 9 months

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I know it's because the only reason the one exists is because the other doesn't appear in AA4 but the sheer wasted potential of Edgeworth not having to challenge his own self-loathing due to the existence of Kristoph makes me fucking crazy...

Edgeworth insists everything corrupt he did while under Manfred's thumb is his own fault, that the little kid his dad raised died when the court didn't convict anyone for Gregory's murder-- he thinks his "demon prosecutor" identity is forged out of that, his own innate beliefs, and that Manfred just gave him the tools to wield those evil impulses to the best of his ability. By the end of the original trilogy, even though the narrative demonstrates Edgeworth believes he's capable of changing his actions, nothing indicates that he's accepted that he had very limited agency over those actions in the first place as demonstrated by how the one time he tried to do the right thing his guardian immediately tried to get him executed for murder.

Cut to Kristoph. Here's this guy who, on the surface, seems like a prototype of everything Miles Edgeworth would be if Manfred didn't raise him. He's overly formal to cover a bitchy sense of humor, very put-together but rattles easily, gayer than a glory hole on Christopher Street-- and a successful defense attorney. Being confronted with the reality of Kristoph would prompt Edgeworth to question: if Gregory had dropped dead when Edgeworth was an adult starting out as a defense attorney, would he have made comparable choices without the threat of Manfred looming? Would he have done anything to reach an equal level of fame to his father? If Gregory had been unfairly executed by the state, would Edgeworth have defended Matt Engarde in a heartbeat, because fuck it, prosecutors are all evil anyway, and exonerating a beloved celebrity would make him famous and successful?

We can't know that (I mean, we can, but Edgeworth would insist we can't know that.) What we do know for sure is this: once Manfred is dead, Edgeworth does lie to the court-- not to help himself, but at great personal risk, to help a loved one. Even so, when he involves his little sibling in the case, he never coerces her into anything. He takes on the risk of a forged identity himself, and only discloses it to her before the court, where he couldn't hurt her if she didn't want to participate. He gives her all the power in the situation, including the power to expose him, if she wants. When she questions him, he does not lie, or twist the facts in order to persuade her. Hell, he asks the judge to let her keep her weapon.

That is not how a certain devil behaved towards his little sibling. It stands to reason that's not how a demon would behave, either.

SOMEBODY POINT THAT OUT TO EDGEWORTH, PLEASE.

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #kristoph gavin #edgeworth risking it all to tell the judge he doesn't object to Franziska's deadly stim toy is my top sibling interaction #'your Honor she's neurodivergent and a minor' 'i am NINETEEN miles edgeworth!!!'

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irlfelixcatton · 5 months

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TALK ABOUT THE TRANSMASCULINE ALLEGORY!!! i want to hear your thoughts

ok. the long awaited oliver quick transmasculine allegory post.

to be so real it is mainly me doing 2 (two things)

-projecting

-using insanely obvious prompts from the text to pull shit out of my ass

i do think that oliver quick's character COULD. MAYBE. be either headcanon'd as trans (BOOORRRINNGG) or a lot of his actions in act one can be closely tied to very common trans experiences.

my biggest thing on 'common' trans experiences as it relates to saltburn, is meeting a cis man and latching onto him with every fiber of your being, because you can't be friends with him, you need to *be* him. the first thing that really prompted me to look at saltburn from this lense was when farleigh goes "[you're almost passing as] a real human boy!", though it's clearly about oliver wearing a rental suit, it's a phrase that i've heard a million times over and over again, and i think that oliver, within this transmaculine concept of his character, dances CONSTANTLY on this imaginary line of "real boy" to "weirdo freak" that i think a lot of trans people can relate to. (i will touch on 'real boy' again later)

theres also an aspect of this incessant watching and dissecting cis men, what they wear, how they talk, how they fuck. and with all of this watching, there's this part of melding your identity into what you're watching, which we see starkly with oliver. at the beginning, when he's this oxford kid, a freak if you will, but he's more or less himself, version A. once he meets felix, he ditches the glasses, the button up shirts, the uptight manner, and turns into this entirely different version of "himself", version B. version B is the version he's taught himself that society will like much more than version A, so it consumes him entirely. version A wasn't someone that girls would fuck, felix would love, and quite frankly be 'enjoyed' by the rest of the world. version A is pre-transition, and version B is post. (all this to say, in relation to irl transition, neither version A or version B are right, good, or bad, they're whatever you want them to be. beauty is in the eye of the beholder)

THIS PART IS JUST WORD VOMIT AND DOESN'T NECESSARILY PERTAIN TO MY POINT OF TRANSMASCULINE ALLEGORY. SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK.

for me, another piece i think about a lot is the “you’re just so real” (venetia) but that’s a bit more of a stretch. the reason i think this relates to the main point, is so many trans people have to work and rework their personality so that their 'transness' is socially palatable, real. the catton's have no general perception of a real person, they surround themselves with fake, upper class socialites who lie and cheat. but even if they met a real person, they wouldn't know it. and they don't lol. so when oliver comes around, who isn't this upper class socialite, the initial thought is that he's this "real" and "grounded" person. however, the only reason that the catton's (general society in this case) find oliver (trans people) so "real" and more or less worth accepting into their family is because he has worked and reworked his identity to be so similar and likeable to felix's.

there's also the conversation on cattonquick being a really good representation of what a mlm cis/trans relationship can feel like so much of the time. but i'll only really expand on this if any1 is interested lol. anyways pls dm me or comment on this i really want to talk more about it more.

#saltburn #barry keoghan #oliver quick #saltburnposting #cattonrambles #transmasculine allegory #i love trans people #transgender #i love you all!!!#sorry if this is incoherent #this came to me in a dream #i'm definitely reading into this tho lol

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aroacettorney · 4 months

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for a character with a reputation of being extremely rational and logical, many of ludger's actions are actually quite emotionally motivated. even when he stays oblivious to his true emotions, there are still many instances where we can see how they unknowingly manifest in his actions and subtly influence his biases. i think ludger's second most toxic trait is that he tends to subconsciously cook up a seemly logical reason to spontaneously cover up his emotional ass because he cannot admit to himself that he feels emotions intensely.

exhibit A: his vengeance for arte's death required him to admit that he had a strong attachment to the kid, so he stated that eliminating the evil and offering solace to the victims were the actual reasons. counter: there were many better ways to deal with delica's incidents if his goal was simply enacting justice. even hans realised that this was a weak excuse to conceal his regrets.

exhibit B: his mercy towards aiden required him to admit his unwillingness to eliminate him, so he covered it up by reasoning that it would be too risky to take a student's life. counter: we know very well that he's fully capable of eliminating someone without leaving a trace if he puts his mind to the task.

exhibit C: his sparing casey's life twice required him to admit his disinclination to kill her, so instead, he reasoned that she was more useful alive and that her excessive pride wouldn't let her easily expose him to the public anyway. counter: strategically speaking, turning her against blackdawn was an obvious blunder. he didn't even need her to deal with them. plus, somehow he conveniently forgot at the moment that casey could still have told her best friend, terinna, about his identity regardless of the matter of pride and subjected him to even worse danger.

exhibit D: his taking owens under his wings and founding u.n. owen required him to admit his emotional bonds to them, so he claimed that he needed a strong fortress for his goals and his own protection, especially against the bretus. counter: considering his op-ness, he had never really needed protection. he also mainly tasked owens with leg work while dealing with most of the dangers by himself. he even ended up disbanding them to confront bretus on his own and telling them to prioritize their lives over his goals.

at first glance, his reasoning might seem sound and logical, but if we look at them for more than ten seconds, they are actually quite flimsy and contradictory. this is not to say he's inherently an idiot or a terrible liar. ludger's capability of reasoning is proven comparable to that of casey. he is also an excellent liar when it comes to deliberately lying to someone. but how does one reason or lie about feelings that they themselves are not even aware of?

my hypothesis:

when his suppressed emotions subconsciously influence his biases and/or manifest into his actions, ludger needs to convince himself that he is still being logical, and thus, without even realising it, he tries to rationalize them and grab onto whatever reason that momentarily sounds in his mind: why was he so dedicated to teaching his students? he couldn't get caught half-assing his job, and he wanted to earn the trust of the president. why did he save esmeralda? quasimodo annoyed him, so he had to step in. why did he delay the first princess' orders and prioritize the students' safety during the attacks on the capital? it was the princess' trusted blade himself who suggested saving the students, and not him. why did he accept casey's companionship during his moriarty's era? it was an act, and he was simply getting into his character.

whether ludger wants to admit it or not, he has always been a person moving according to his emotions. and the actual reason why we see so many inconsistencies and hypocrisies in his actions when aligning all of them together with his own logic is that his reasonings are only flimsy excuses that his subconsciousness makes up on the fly to rationalize away his repressed emotions, i.e. his strong attachments to this world.

#academy's undercover professor #academy's undercover professor spoilers #ludger cherish #ludger is a very unreliable narrator #because what he actually wants and what he thinks he wants are two very different subjects #it says a lot when even tho his end goal is breaking the cage and reclaiming his past he still ended up risking everything to save grander #trust not his words but his actions #if you ever find his reasoning for his actions contradictory/hysterical there r good odds that he's lying his ass off without even knowing #conveniently he also tends to not think about these excuses for more than ten seconds #you may also see some of this behaviors in casey bc thats how alike they are #food for thought: what does this mean for the fiances arc?#ahem. that will be left as an exercise for the readers.

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anemoi-i · 1 year

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I'm thinking about the underlying threats to Mondstadt and Venti's presence and role as we learn more things lore wise. It might seem like everything is peaceful in Mondstadt, but there is a reason for that and the reason is obviously Venti who is doing things on the sidelines to keep his city peaceful. To get into this, let's go over the list of threats (feel free to correct me or even add to this list) that loom over the City of Freedom.

First starting with it being the only city that has Abyss Order activity in the beginning. While this can be written off as Genshin simply wanting to introduce one of the villainous factions in the beginning of the game, it is also important to know that the Abyss Order has not made an appearance in the main story since Mondstadt. Liyue, Inazuma, and Sumeru have had the Fatui as the main antagonists who incite chaos within those nations, while the Abyss Order has been locked to Interludes with Dainsleif and World Quests (ie. Enkanomiya with Enjou). This cannot be a mere coincidence.

We have Albedo's dilemma (both our Albedo and the threat of his copy who had to be fended off), that a player wouldn't even know about because all of Albedo's important lore was locked behind limited events and we have not gotten a part two to any of that since then. This too, I highly doubt is mere coincidence (I swear it's not me giving an excuse for hoyo putting important things behind limited quests). The threat of Albedo "destroying Mondstadt" is alarming, especially since he is self-aware that he could commit the act.

I believe that Venti's ways of protecting Mondstadt lie in him being a peacemaker without having to force his hand. We already know he thinks of himself as the weakest Archon (and whether or not that is true remains to be seen) but if we use evidence especially that of another Archon's words, that being Nahida's, we now know that an Archon's power stems from faith and belief in them and their actions. This is why she is not up to par in fighting (yet, because as things heal in Sumeru, so will her people's faith in her but I digress) and she is in a weakened state. We know that just about everyone in Mondstadt reveres Barbatos, so someone is lying here. But I'm not here to talk about the thing everyone debates about.

I am simply here to provide evidence towards the theory that Venti would much rather be a peacemaker than one who fights and he is doing such actions even when we don't realize it while he maintains his lofty personality. The Hexenzirkel is a primary example even though that event was in the past. He was somehow able to pacify 8 dangerous witches from fighting him. If we talk about the current situation, a reason for Venti doing things on the sidelines could stem from the fact that any direct action would result in the people of Mondstadt knowing his identity and also bringing less than favorable individuals to his city.

We can prove that his identity being known would bring unfavorable people to his city because it has. With Signora. Venti was trying to help Dvalin without the Traveler's help but as you know, a story must begin. This was another example of him trying to do things on the sidelines. Venti wanting to keep the peace to keep Mondstadters safe is very in character for him as the God of Freedom, but I can't help but feel like there is more to it.

Such as, is his peacemaking innocent, or does he prefer more aggressive ways of doing it and if so, for all of the underlying threats to Mondstadt, that I mentioned earlier, how will he go about rectifying those, I wonder?

#genshin impact #venti #genshin theory #krisposting #txt

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seven-oomen · 8 months

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Have another round of clone wars headcanons, because I am obsessed and this is my new circus.

Fox, Cody, and Wolffe are triplets who shared a gestational pod. Fox is the oldest, Cody is his identical twin, Wolffe is Cody's identical twin and the youngest of the three. But Cody was the smallest at the opening of the gestational pod.

Fox likes to joke that he was the original clone and the other two are "watered down versions" of him.

But you better not hurt his little brothers or he rain down the wrath of a thousand blasters on you.

Cody is a calculated madman. He doesn't do impulsive crazy actions. No no no. When he does a crazy thing, it's entirely calculated. Every little thing is weighed against the most logical course of action but sometimes chaos is the only option left.

Fox loves to tell the padawans (Ahsoka, Cal) the most crazy stories;

Fox: "Palpatine takes a 45 min shit every morning while his aides look him in the eyes."

Ahsoka: "No kriffing way... that's not true."

Fox: "Why would I lie? I'm dead serious."

...

Wolffe has an uncanny ability to register other people's emotions and know what you need. Not that he'll be very open with it if he doesn't know you. But for his brothers or master Plo? He'll do anything.

Cody knows how to fight with a lightsaber because Obi-Wan may have taught him how to do some sparring sessions.

#star wars headcanons #the clone wars headcanons #star wars #the clone wars #commander fox #commander cody #commander wolffe #sw #tcw #sw tcw

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hothammies · 2 months

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just wanted to say I'm really liking this au so far, mike's character breakdown is so fun and I just wanted to thank you for a part of it! when I first read that he wasn't good with guns I deflated a little because I thought oh, it's another incompetent mike and macho will situation 😞 but the fact he's not good with guns because that's a NERF, and he's otherwise actually competent, respectable, intelligent, commanding, just - mike wheeler himself - made me really happy! that's a fun take, and I appreciated the effort in how you used the dnd charts etc too it's so cool!

it makes me look forward to the other character intros, and I already loved how sweet will looked in the party line up art even while holding a gun 😂 idk if you plan to have him only embrace the skill because it's necessary and not entirely what he likes, or something else, but I just liked that kinda contrast in the art regardless it made me giggle

oh also: "would never hesitate to do something deplorable to protect the party: family first" <- iconic. I can see the ruthlessness already I love you mike that's our leader, kind badass boy

this ask made me squeal and kick my feet like five times so thank you for that LMAO

i'm so happy that you (and others) have been enjoying the mike characterization i've put out for this au :"D i put a ton of thought into all of them and i'm having a lot of fun! mike in canon seems to be one of the most intelligent characters in the show, closely rivaled to dustin in making plans and having them go right, so him being incompetent is like an oxymoron.

there's a reason he's the leader of the group, and when people paint him as incompetent and / or babygirlified (in the "damsel, innocent, weak, must protect" sense) because he's played by finn or because he has terrible physical capabilities, it kinda makes me annoyed. so what if he's weak physically? he's still the one who actively squares up to people even when he knows he's about to get his ass beat :P he is the one who puts everything into action. his intuition and plans are correct most, if not all the time, and it pisses me off when people undermine that to try to fit him into someone who needs to be saved.

of course, in this au, his weaknesses more lie in his emotional incapabilities rather than survival. he isn't the best physically either, but that doesn't mean he can't do anything (its the apocalypse - he had to have learned something at some point).

the pressure that bears down on him in this au isn't based on society, and more related to the fact that he sees himself as the sole "caretaker" for the group. being put in charge of the lives of five other people followed by your own is scary as hell, and he doesn't really have an outlet for the pressure he faces until he enters that fwb relationship with will. that's an entirely different can of worms though so i'll stop with that for now!

i'm actually so happy that you mentioned how sweet i drew will in his design <3 will's character sheet will be posted tmrw so hopefully it will make sense why i drew him the way i did. i hope that my explanation regarding the rifle makes sense and does his character justice! him being good with guns was also a way for him to bond with lucas and explore his character a bit - it'll be explained later :O

and abt that last line regarding his ruthlessness... in all of the group's backstories, they all had people outside of the party that very much helped shape their identity and how they act. all i'll say is that mike is very much influenced by nancy in the moral compass department >:)

#and thank you for this ask again anon it made me smile very hard #byler #ask #st apoc au #sammi's brain was used #<- using this tag just bc it has a bit of canon char analysis in it

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visionsofmagic · 1 year

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⎯ one in nine realms [mini series] “chapter 5”

[masterlist] & [taglist]

[previous chapter] [next chapter]

▸summary: new dangers are at the door and heimdall is still making y/n irritated but their bond turn into something that not just y/n but also heimdall could not predict.

▸wc: 2.6k [a little bit short, yes, but has lots of process for the story and bond y/n and heimdall have]

▸warnings & tags: heimdall’s and y/n’s bond’s process, lots of touching, y/n’s power and identity being discovered further, odd and unfamiliar feelings, inner thoughts, a little rage from cocky heimdall, misunderstanding, protecting other’s life, mind reading, conflicts, unanswered questions, reaching the heart of the realm, pet names/nicknames, original creatures, heimdall begin to think (or using his brain in other words), being close

Being the Goddess of Sun meant nothing to you. Not anymore. That y/n was buried under your skin, not feeling to break free anytime soon. Deserving the power your parents gave you was impossible. Yes, you helped so many innocent people, you saved them but no, you could not go back into that Goddess again whose only desire was to accomplish Odin’s orders, hurting innocent people without questioning. This wasn’t anyone’s fault but yours to carry, Odin gave you orders but you were the one who didn’t questioned them and fulfilled without hesitation, not seeing their pain.

Heimdall’s knowledge about it didn’t mean anything, not yet. He could ask about you to Odin if he wanted. However, that would be useless because no one can understand the other just by speaking those who encouraged to the other. Heimdall could not understand you by Odin or anyone else. He had to spend time with you, see you with his own eyes and decide what kind of a person you are with his own judgement. If he wants to do this, you will give him a chance because from Thor, Odin’s other son, you know very well how Gods can easily hide their own emotions and personalities from others’ eyes. Clearly, Heimdall was doing the same with his cocky attitude. It would be a lie if you said you don’t want to get know Heimdall better and further. You wouldn’t hide it either. How could you hide it from a mind reader anyway?

Speaking of evil’s name, you turned behind, looking at Heimdall’s moving eyes that was scanning the realm like it has began to mean something now. “So,” You caught his attention, making his eyes turn to your face which was becoming red for no particular reason. No, especially not from his charm. “You can predict every movement of others, right?”

He nodded proudly, “I’m not only predicting them. I am capable of avoid their movements with my fast reactions and speed.” Smirking, he crossed his arms on his chest. “How come you learn my abilities only recently? All of the realms know me honey.”

You rolled your eyes, keep moving forward, to a castle looking place that made of pure black iron and lava. “Maybe you just couldn’t catch my attention, hm?” Smiling, you said, “You are not everyone’s type Heimdall.”

“And what is the reason behind this?” His voice came from behind, closer now.

“Where should I start?” You began to give him reasons while counting them with your fingers, one by one, “A cocky attitude, endless ego, being Odin’s right hand man, seeing people from above, not being so charmi –“

“Ah, ah,” He warned with a playful tone and a smile on his face, standing right beside you, kneeling to your ears while keep walking, “Not the last one.”

Because of his sudden action, you stopped on your trial, making his left arm and chest hit your back with a ‘thumb’. He stopped too which made his body connect to yours, his chest was touching your back in other words. And oh, this was making you feel hotter. Again! If you were visiting the realm for the first time, you could blame it but no, you had spent your childhood years in this realm, not feeling hot for a single time.

You tried to move but something inside forced you to stay like that.

“What is it sunshine?” He said, smiling still, “Feeling hot?”

How he was making you weak on your knees like that? He didn’t have any right to make you feel like this. You met with him just recently but he already took a part from your life. More than you wish.

“Enough.” You said finally, breaking free from his purple eyes and taking fresh air after taking some steps forward to the castle. “It’s just I am turning back here after a long time. My body denies its heat, that’s all.” You wanted to add even if it sounded like a lie.

Not buying your lie at all, Heimdall smirked. Then, he surprisingly didn’t push it further. He just started to walk towards the castle.

As you began to follow his trial, some odd sounds came into your ears, alerting you. Something was coming to your direction and you could not put a name on it; was it another creature that giants made to attack the Asgard?

Heimdall stopped, looking at the sky. He now had a serious face which made you wonder what was coming more.

“Heimdall,” Your voice sounded more concerned than you wanted it to be, like you were feeling fear about Heimdall’s safety. He felt it too because he looked at you like you said a joke, not a funny one.

“No one can hurt me. I am not only one step but a hundred steps ahead of their movements.”

You rolled your eyes again, feeling anger a bit. “Really?” You asked, “Do you just trust your abilities? Your Godly power?”

He looked confused, “What else I would trust exactly?”

As unknown voices came closer, you stood in front of him, touching his chest, the place where his heart placed, if he had one, “This. The real power not comes from the Godly power you have.” You looked at his eyes, deeply, “It comes from the heart, the one who has not but only you. A heart is the one that makes us powerful.”

Keep looking at your eyes, Heimdall didn’t move, even if voices’ owners came into the scene.

You picked your arrows, those you made with using your power. You had to use a bit magic and your power if you wanted to go back to Atreus safely. If you were dead, who would help him?

With this question, you stood in front of Heimdall, shielding his body with yours with just pure instinct. You didn’t know why but one of the inner voices you had wanted you to keep him safe, no matter how much you hated his personality.

Looking at the sky, you saw three flying creatures whose wings were made of pure lava and had iron bodies. They were not too big but they had a great speed, making your eyes to turn from right to left rapidly, following their movements.

Their faces reminded you dragons. They looked like little dragons with mortal attitudes. By looking at their faces, you could see how angry they were. As they kept flying in front of the castle, you came to a conclusion; they were the protects of the castle and what buried in there. Probably your sword and other treasures. The one; a mortal, a giant or a god, stole all these treasures and kept them in the heart of the realm.

“Hey,” You tried to say to them, “I am here for my belongings. Can you show me your master? So, no one will be harmed from this visit?”

They looked at your, tilting their heads to left and right, then, they looked at each other like they were trying to make a sense and a decision.

“Really?” Heimdall asked from behind after a long time silence, “Can you not see they have not a brain at all? They are just some dummy creatures.”

The moment he finished his sentence, the three protectors looked at him and then, with a strong movement, they began to fly towards your direction while spiting fire with their mouths.

Pushing Heimdall’s body to other side to make you the main target of their fire, you joked, “Not too dummy to not understand you, clearly.”

As their fire collapsed to your body, traveling from head to toe, Heimdall shouted, “Y/n!”

Not seeing clearly because of non-stop fire on your eyes, you heard his broken voice. Did he feel concerned about you? Was he taking you this serious? And why you felt a sudden joy while being the target of fire?

All questions remained unanswered as creatures stopped suddenly. Opening your eyes, you saw how their attention was taken from you to Heimdall. He was stabbing one of the dragons, making it to fall to the ground soon enough.

As other two made their ways to Heimdall, you shouted without thinking twice, just wanting to catch their attention from him again, “Hey!” You picked up your fire arrows again, “Burn.”

Fire arrows made from your power and magic found their places on creatures’ bodies’ parts; heads, hearts, legs, and wings. Their skin began to burn like sun, making them scream in pain. You felt bad for them. They was just protecting the castle as their owner ordered but you didn’t want to get hurt. Not only you, but Heimdall too. You wanted to keep him safe.

“Keep me safe?!” Heimdall’s angry voice shouted from left, as the creature he killed turned to ashes as well as others, screams lowered ‘till there was no sound and hints of their presences. “You are keeping me safe?!” He shouted again, stood up from the ground, not giving any time to fix his clothes that had dust on them, “I am Heimdall! The son of Odin. I do not need a protection.” He stood right in front of you, looking so angry for the first time. You felt no fear but something unfamiliar. “Do you know what I am capable of?”

You waited him to continue, to split his poison out which would make him calmer but he just stopped, looking so angry but broken at the same time.

“Heimdall,” You said, avoid your wanting to touch his face, “I –“

You wanted to say how everyone, even those whose faith determined as untouchable, needed to be protect from others; from their own families, lovers, friends and much more. Everyone needed this, to feel love behind the protection. No, you didn’t feel love about him but you certainly were giving him some empathy and delicate emotions of yours, without your own control. This was heart’s doing, not minds. And he needed to realize this too. However, feeling odd, you couldn’t say a word. But deep inside, you knew he understood your actions because his eyes no longer held anger inside them, they began to hold something you could not put a name. Maybe, you didn’t want to. Not yet.

Turning to the castle, you said, “Let’s continue.” You were so empathic to him, even to your surprise. Not knowing what was making you like this has begun to make you crazy. Questioning it further had to be done in other time, probably not in this realm.

Ah, what an unpredictable journey you had with him.

The realm had so much potential. No wonder why Odin didn’t like the realm at all. It had Surtur, giants-made creatures and a magnificent power. It had changed a lot since your childhood, after Odin’s reign. The realm you called as home now was so strange. No sound, just fire and lava with big mountains and creatures that wants to eat every living thing alive.

You even couldn’t remember a memory of places because of their changes. You could not tell which place was looked like before. How you missed your early life; parents on your side, a place to call home, friends to have a special bond, a power to hold, and beauty of the realm. However, knowing that missing them will not give you anything in return, you just focused the purpose of your visit to the realm that was not your home anymore.

“The heart of the realm.” You said, touching the surface of great gates, protecting the castle from visitors.

Not touching it, Heimdall said, “There is no sound behind.”

Even if you trusted his hearing ability, giving him a power to hear every sound from all realms as he claimed, you put your left ear to the surface of the gates, looking at him while doing it, “No.” You said to him, not breaking your gaze. “There is something in there. Not dead, not alive. I can feel it.”

“How?” Heimdall asked, “How can you hear something I do not?”

You smiled poorly, taking his hand on yours, you pulled his body to yours. Feeling surprised from your action as always, he tried to say, “What are you do –“

“Shh!” You made him stop speaking. Putting his hand on the surface, not taking your hand back from his, you said, “Put your ear to the surface.”

It took him a few seconds to do what you asked, putting his ear on the gates’ surface with a hesitation.

You faces were standing so close to each other, eyes connected like hands, warmness flowing from a body to another, making you two feel something both odd and unfamiliar but good at the same time. Like a lovely tickle on your skin, the one you don’t want it to go.

“Listen.” You said with a low tone, waiting him to listen.

He gave it a few seconds but stopped doing it, rolling his eyes, he said, “I can’t hear shit.”

You rolled your eyes as well but kept your patience. “Because you listen it with only your ears.” You tightened your touch on his hand, making him look at your connected hands and to your eyes again. “Listen with both your ear and,” You pointed to his heart with your eyes, “Heart.”

As he put more attention to it, you smiled, “Close your eyes.”

Knowing he would not close his eyes if you kept looking at him like that, you closed your eyes firstly. Giving him a hint that you had no bad intentions even though he probably could feel your intentions clearly.

While seeing just an endless black void, you continued, “Just feel it.”

Feeling him closing your eyes without being able to look at him, you tried to hide your smile even if you knew he couldn’t see.

His hand moved a little bit, warmness began to increase its heat, no sound but just yours and his heart beats made you feel enjoy. Putting your attention from him to the feeling that radiated from the other side of the gates, an orange trial began to emerge from your feet to inside. Following it, you saw how trial traveled from right to left of the castle, passed three doors slowly, reaching its destination; a tree that was not alive and not dead. The heart of the realm. Holding a great power on it. The tree your parents married under, the tree you born in front of, the tree that give the sword that has your family’s legacy and power on it, and the tree that gave the realm its vividness.

Opening your eyes, you saw Heimdall’s still closed eyes. He really put his attention to it, listening you well. While he continued to feel the tree; hearing, feeling and seeing it, you watched him. You watched how his eyebrows furrowed because of concentration he put, how his lips shook a little because of the tree, how he looked so pure and innocent while discovering something he found now. Looking at his features, you thought how he looked good with purple eyes that held eternity on them, braided gold hair that making you want to touch them and pink lips that you want to k-

He opened his eyes, looking at you directly, not giving away his own thoughts. His sudden action make you realize what you were thinking about him just now. You would say something you didn’t want if he didn’t open his eyes. You don’t want it, do you?

Keeping his gazes on your face, not moving at all, he made your body shake in disbelief. Disbelief of your own wanting.

“Y/n,” He said with a voice that touched you entirely from head to toe, from outside to inside, “What do you want?”

Yes, y/n – You said to yourself; What do you want?

TO BE CONTINUED.

taglist: @iinterdimensionals , @Konigdi1ks0ck , @onlydeas , @hayleethefrog , @tartagliasrighthand , @whywouldiknowsstuff , @importantvoidpolice , @itsnat-bitch , @armanibxtch , @dott-up , @chiyausu , @lokigirlszendaya , @potentplant , @milf-to-be-anny <3

thanks for reading and commenting/sending messages! you are making me so happy and joyful. I really appritiate your liking on the story. you are wonderful, every one of you! stay safe, stay happy. <3

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