#Gonna tag on going series for bigger reach!

[zepskies]

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases. 

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.” 

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself. 

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father. 

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes. 

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it. 

Wendigo. 

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say. 

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin. 

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside. 

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back. 

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser. 

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either. 

But you’ll have to try. 

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive. 

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt. 

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says. 

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door. 

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes. 

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. 

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place. 

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure. 

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss. 

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.  

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair. 

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion. 

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer. 

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance. 

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”  

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin. 

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands. 

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin. 

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.” 

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free. 

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

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[ma1dita]

pushover

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: usually you’re the one stitching Luke up but the one time he gets to do it for you, he knows you’re milking it. no trouble!verse tags, can be standalone -> she’s an ACTRESS okay? who tf wouldn’t want luke to kiss a booboo; this was a forgotten draft for my partners in crime series feel free to read

wc: 1.2k

“OWWWW!”

The sun shines again on Camp Half-Blood peeking through Luke’s dark curls as he towers over you, laughing from his position above. Your knee is scraped after cushioning your fall, or perhaps your attack, after Luke thought it’d be funny to push you again as he walked past.

Well, today’s been kind of boring, so might as well make the most of it right? 

As a daughter of Dionysus, you do love to put on a good show.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye as you do your best to convince him that he’s maimed you but as his eyes fall to the slightly aggravated skin, Luke sighs at the way you look like a kicked puppy, lower lip jutting out as you squint up at him.

“Stop being so overdramatic. It wasn’t that serious.”

“YOU SHOVED ME INTO A BUSH!” 

The howl that leaves your throat catches the attention of other campers, who are familiar with your dramatics and your penchant for picking a fight with the son of Hermes. Luke sighs and runs his hands through his hair, groaning in embarrassment. 

Gods forbid he look like the bad guy.

“Seriously, trouble— you're acting like I pushed you off a cliff,” he grumbles finally crouching down to reach for your leg to check how serious it is. 

It’s not.

“You're a barbarian. Just because you think it's funny to push me around doesn't mean it actually is! Luke.... I can't walk! It feels like my bone is coming through. And I have so much work to do today, and now I'm gonna have to walk super slow…” you groan, still on the ground. Luke rolls his eyes and once he's checked the injury (the whole menacing palm-sized scrape) his expression softens the tiniest bit. He’s still kinda pissed off at you for being a drama queen though.

“Alright, it's not life-threatening so you're going to be fine. Look, I can carry you if I have to.”

Batting his hand away you roll your eyes, “Like I'd let you. You'd probably toss me into the lake again.” 

Luke smirks, “Probably, but I swear to the gods that I wouldn't do anything to maim you. Not on purpose at least.” It’s almost criminal how easy it is to get on your nerves—he thinks you’ve finally shut your trap until he watches you fake crawl away to get a reaction out of him. Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing to everyone watching so he scoops you into his arms like you weigh nothing. Luke chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your squirming frame so you won't fall as he begins walking.

“So difficult. I swear…”

“Me? Never!” you groan, flopping in his arms like a dead body. Your dead weight makes his arms strain a little but his muscles are fun to look at from any angle, so… 

You miss it when he starts speaking again, “You're too much, you know that?” A smirk grows upon your face, “And you can't get enough. The infirmary is the other way, Castellan....” Luke huffs as he turns 180 towards the infirmary, sighing softly at the way you are sprawled in his arms. But he keeps quiet because he knows how to pick and choose his battles. Something about the realization that he’d only do this for you makes him bite his lip in thought. But you think he’s trying to not laugh at you.

“What? You maim me and then you make fun of me? Haven't you done enough?” The words slip by as you peek at him through one open eye, his cheeks flushed and rosy. Hopefully, his brawn won’t expire on the short trek to the infirmary.

“You're lucky I don't drop you right now,” Luke jostles you with a lopsided grin he can’t hide anymore and it steadily gets bigger at the sound of your surprise.

“Don't you DARE, Luke Castellan!” 

Grabbing onto his mop of curls, the boy winces as his nose brushes against your wrist, and the shockwaves it sends through your system are enough to send you reeling. Maybe it’s the way you almost sway with each step he takes, smooth and steady like a sailboat even when he’s carrying you like this.

He ends up having to carry you inside the infirmary and the Apollo kids on shift stop and stare at their two best counselors in the doorway. Luke tries to ignore them, setting you down on an empty cot and getting the medical supplies he needs to treat your wound. He looks at you propped on the bed like a little princess, cross-legged and fluttering eyelashes waiting for him to clean you up. It's not serious enough for ambrosia, he thinks, so he grabs an alcohol wipe instead.

Luke looks like he's trying his hardest not to smirk as he grabs your leg and begins carefully cleaning the scrape.

“Ow! Gentle! When I patch you up after you spar I don't do it maliciously!”

“I am being gentle, stop wriggling!” Luke grits his teeth as he continues to wipe the drying blood away. He's trying to be careful, but he's clearly irritated that you're not making this easy for him.

Tossing your knee over his lap and getting closer, suddenly you go quiet at the proximity. There’s something intimate about being tended to so delicately in a room filled with people. A quiet in the chaos reserved for only the two of you.

“So what, you think I'm too good for ambrosia? Sending me off to heal like a mortal— what type of nurse are you?”

“You drunk on ambrosia for a scrape would definitely make your dad thrilled and have the both of us cleaning the stables for the rest of the week,” Luke lets out a brief snicker as he meets your gaze, rolling your eyes as you lean against the wall. His hand unconsciously rubs circles into the skin above your knee, featherlight yet firm at the same time. You try to ignore the goosebumps that rise in its wake.

Luke doesn't say anything about it while he continues to look at you. He realizes that you look quite pretty even with windswept hair and dirt on your cheek, but he can't let you see that he's noticed. Something shifts in the air of the infirmary, more overpowering than the smell of antiseptic and it bubbles in both of your chests, overflowing and seeping into the small space between you.

Not bad for a boring day, you suppose. You make him piggyback you for the rest of the day in an attempt to guilt-trip him. But the huge smile on his face has all of your campers thinking otherwise.

—

The next day, he sees you walking perfectly fine. In fact, with the way you’re rushing to scold a Hephaestus kid for almost setting the armory on fire, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you move that fast in your life.

Warmth settles on your cheeks as your eyes dart between the kid you’re yelling at and Luke’s narrowing eyes from afar, and you can’t quite tell if the rush of emotions is from what you’re doing versus who you’re really looking at.

Maybe the next time he pushes you around he’ll find out.

[veltana]

Stranded - Intro

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader ✦ Word count: ~400 ✦ Rating: Mature ✦ Warnings/tags: Grumpy mountain man!Bucky, don't ask me about US geography just go with it, eventual relationship/romance/smut. ✦ Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. ✦ Note: You voted for it, so here he is! I'm trying something new with this and making this an interactive story! I'm gonna post a poll tomorrow and you get to vote for what happens in the next part. You're also invited to send suggestions for what you want to happen in upcoming parts! I'm gonna be tagging everything with #stranded series.

Masterlist | AO3

It wasn’t your plan to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, but you are nonetheless.

A slew of curses fall out of your mouth as you stand in the freezing cold, trying to get a signal on your phone. It is still light out, but the sun is starting to set and the road you’re on has been deserted since you stopped.

Accepting defeat, you tuck your phone back into your pocket and try to devise another plan.

You can wait by the car, hoping someone will come by and be willing to help you. But you also remember seeing a small sign up a gravel road some way back.

Either stay out in the cold and die of hypothermia. Get murdered by someone stopping under the guise of helping you. Or get murdered by a loner in the mountains. None of the options seems very appealing to you. Walking back to town is not an option, either way, it’s too far.

After some thinking, you decide you can't stay and put a note in the window of your car that you’ve gone for help, and please don’t break into your car.

Fortunately for you, you’re actually kind of prepared for this. You have reasonable boots, a thick coat, beanie, and gloves. Rummaging through your suitcase, you stuff some other useful things into your backpack, before locking the car and starting to walk.

The gravel road is steep, but at least you’re warm, and not thinking about the chill that will come when your sweat cools. You catch a glimpse of a chimney and a thin trail of smoke rising between the hills and that keeps you going. Dusk is closing in, and you hope to reach the place before the road fades into darkness.

As the hill crests, you take a few seconds to catch your breath and get a better look at the house for the first time. Or, it’s more of a cabin, low and simple, but its windows glow warmly in the fading light, and a truck sits outside.

At least you’ll be warm when you get murdered!

You knock firmly on the door and wait. For a few seconds, there is nothing but stillness from inside, before you hear heavy footfalls on the other side of the door.

As the door opens you put on your best smile.

“Hi!” you introduce yourself. “My car broke down on the main road and I couldn’t get a signal, but I saw the sign and walked here. Do you have a working phone or wifi that I could use to get in contact with a towing company?”

The man eyes you up and down. He’s so much bigger than you, with blue piercing eyes, long hair held back by a black cap, and a scruffy beard. The silence stretches and you’re starting to think that maybe he didn’t understand you.

Then he grunts and says, “Come in, I’m Bucky.”

[chleem]

Flashing Lights #7

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A-class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter6 | index | chapter8

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Mid-June 2024

“I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“This isn’t goodbye.”

“This is!” You yell, forcing your tears into your eyes as you stare at Hugh. “The world is ending tomorrow. I… I’m gonna be with my brother soon. I’m happy, but I want to live…for you.”

Hugh shakes his head, tears forming in his eyes as well. “No, I’m not saying goodbye to you. We’re going to go on, live our lives-“

“Stop pushing the problem away, Jack-“

“I want to! Because I can’t say goodbye to you, I love you,” Hugh confesses, and you suck in a breath, the tears flowing down. “I love you, Sam. And…it hurts that I can’t grow old with you…”

You cry even more, before dropping to the ground, your sobs filling the silence of the set. You don’t look at Hugh, knowing he’s a great actor and will respond to your improv in exactly the right way; he always does.

You feel his presence before he reaches you—gently wrapping his arms around you.

You let your face fall into his chest, as his hand gently rubs your hair, soothing you.

“Cut!”

Hugh pulls away from you, getting up. He helps you up, and you thank him while rubbing your tears away. 

“That was great,” he compliments you, a smile on his lips. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, as the staff comes and fixes your makeup. 

Director Ravens yells through his megaphone, “Great scene, take five!”

The staff follows you as you walk to your seat, and freeze.

Drew, already sitting in it. You didn't expect him to be at your set, since he was probably on his own schedule. But he’s here, and he seems to be in a good mood. 

You watch as he pulls a random chair over, tapping it. “Hey.”

You glance at the makeup staff, and she goes away. You sit down besides Drew, staring ahead. “You sat here all morning?”

“Just a while. The view’s great,” he says, and you feel his eyes on the side of your face. 

You lean back into your chair, staring at the Greece ocean view. It was beautiful, but you didn’t want to agree with him. Not after what he did this morning. “It’s fucking boring.”

“I don’t know…Hugh Jackman’s a pretty good view.”

You snort at his lame comment, turning and meeting his eyes. Wow. You don’t think you could ever get used to how annoyingly blue his eyes are. “Why are you here?”

“Goldfish memory?” He teases, a corner of his lips curling up.

“I don’t remember unimportant things,” you talk back, an annoyed frown on your face. “And can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Until today. You wrap up today.”

“Who told you?”

“Stop asking the obvious, y/n,” Drew answers, but no hint of annoyance in is voice. “And y’know why I’m here. We got a date, remember?”

Right. Your afternoon was reserved for Drew, which the company told you was going to be a date around the Greece streets. It’s your little ‘getaway’ as a couple, enjoying time away from the press. But, the company planted the information to some fan-cites/media, to make sure the world knew you were on a vacation with Drew, indicating things were serious. It sounds stupid, but that’s the main goal of a PR stunt, to gain more publicity. 

Gosh. Drew’s face pisses you off. Even more, now that you’re fully sober. 

You finished the bottles of wine in the hotel room last night, and for some reason, the hotel refuses to send more into your room. Plus, cigarettes that you left on the table are gone. 

You fully suspect that Drew took your cigarettes. As for the wine? What kind of hotel refuses to send wine upstairs to VIP guests? 

You were on edge this whole morning, even considering to cancel this shoot. But Laura persuaded you to do it, and that she was on her way to buy a pack for you. But after two hours, she’s still not here and instead, Drew’s here.

Drew’s warm hand places itself on your knee, and only then have you noticed that you’ve been bouncing your legs due to anxiousness. “You okay?”

“You took away my shit,” you confront him. It was like a switch was turned on inside of you, and the semi-sweet y/n was gone. Now, it was short-tempered y/n. All because his face now reminded you of how sober you are right now. 

“No idea what you’re saying,” he denies, the corner of his lips still up. You furrow your eyebrows, and he wipes the smirk off with another hand. “I don’t have your shit.”

You sit up, startling him to remove his hand away from you. “You do! Give it to me, I need it.”

“You don’t need it, y/n,” Drew glances around to make sure no one’s listening. “You’re doing perfectly fine right now-“

“I’m not. I’m freaking out here,” you confess, which was weird, because you don’t say that to Drew. But now, you were focused on getting even just one smoke; you wanted, no, needed your cigarettes back. “I’m much better with it, just give me-“

“No, y/n,” Drew says, his tone more serious now. “You survived a morning without a smoke, or a drop of alcohol. You’re fine.”

You stare into his blue eyes for a hint of lie, for his statement to be wrong. Because he is wrong, you weren't fine. You were a hundred times more anxious in front of a camera, and although Director Ravens had no comment towards your acting, you felt the worst. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want my stuff back.”

“I don’t have it,” he firmly says again. 

“You’re the only one that would do such a thing.”

“Well, I didn’t, okay?” He replies immediately, his eyes pleading for you to believe him. 

“Fuck,” you curse, looking away from him and towards the ocean.

Your leg must’ve been bouncing again, because Drew puts his hand on your leg again. You stop, looking down at his hand; you hate how it's so warm and somehow comforting.  

He’s looking down on the ground, as if thinking about something. Then, he turns to you, starting to rub circles on your knee . “Let me show you.”

You speak up after a short pause, “Show me what?”

“How much better being sober is. How much better you are without the chemicals.”

"Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?"

You stare into his eyes, hoping to catch bullshit in them. 

But no. His eyes just show truth, determination, and comfort. 

Wow. You’ve never seen someone stare at you like that. 

Mostly empathy, jealous, hateful stares. But Drew…

Fuck. You almost forgot that he was a fucking actor. 

You want to confront him, but Director Ravens interrupts through his megaphone, informing you to go back to shooting. 

The staff comes, continuing to fix your makeup, and you get up, walking to the film set. You turn back and glance at Drew, who’s still staring at you. 

His stare causes your stomach to warm up, even if you were highly suspicious of him. 

——

True to his word, Drew shows you how much better it is when you experience the day sober. 

He takes you through town, and of course, you complained at first, claiming that old buildings were a bore. Okay. You didn’t just complain. You fought, like you always did. 

Drew had to pull you aside, out of public eye and fight back with you. Multiple times have you tried slipping off to get a smoke or a drink. But Drew was like a hawk, stopping you just in time. 

In the late afternoon, Drew took you to the local markets, and okay, maybe you had fun there. A lot of fun. 

Locals didn’t recognize the two of you, so you looked around freely. It was nice, to be in a place where not a lot of people knew who you were. You tasted the samples, buying small souvenirs, and even getting a funny art sketched of you and Drew. 

“You speak Greek?” You mumble, while your mouth was stuffed with Lokma, which you learned was a kind of Greece donut. It was so delicious, you bought a pack that was straight out of the oven, eating while walking down the sidewalk. 

The corner of his lips curl up, his eyes glancing down at you. “I can’t hear you,” he teases. 

You eventually swallow the one in your mouth, and you ask him yet again. 

“Basic words,” Drew shrugs, as you continue eating. “Is it that good?”

“Yes,” you murmur, stuffing another one into your mouth. His hand attempts to get the last one from the bag, but you slap it away. “This one’s mine.”

“You ate five already.”

“And?”

He shakes his head while smiling, before stopping at the crosswalk. It was late afternoon already, and you spent almost three hours at the local market alone. Drew didn’t complain; he even offered to hold the souvenirs you decided to buy. It was weird; one, you weren’t the type to buy souvenirs, and two, he offered to hold your stuff. 

Then again, you’re fully sober and awake due to the amount of things you’ve seen today, and Drew seemed to be in a good mood.

Now, you were going to see another market, but it was mostly selling stuff such as flowers, souvenirs, or jewelry. 

Without looking, you wanted to cross the road, but Drew quickly holds you back, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You look up at him with stuffed cheeks, and he just looks ahead. “Did you eat your eyes as well?”

You roll your eyes, reaching for the last Lokma to eat. Just as you’re about to pop it into your mouth, Drew beats you to it, snatching it away with a grin. This bitch- that was the last one! “Hey! Give it back!”

He laughs, chewing it quickly, “you’re right. This is good.”

“That was the last one!” you whine, frowning as you stare at him in disbelief.

“I thought that was for me,” he says, swallowing the last bite and looking down at you with a teasing smile. “It wasn’t?”

The audacity-

But the lights must’ve turned green, because Drew leads you to cross the road, his arm still around your shoulders. “You owe me,” you say, pushing the empty bag into his chest. 

He laughs yet again, his hand going to cover yours. You quickly pull away from his touch, and he just takes the bag and throws it into the trash can once you reach the other side. 

He keeps his arm around your shoulders the whole time you’re walking around the market. The vibrant view of the local market distracts you - locals offering different samples for you to try.

The only time Drew leaves your side is when you’re distracted by a street singer, and you sit down on the benches, being his only listener. He’s singing Kiss me by Sixpence None The Richer, the lyrics seems to pull you into the moment. You let the music wash over you, a soft smile on your lips as you listen.

Drew walks back and sits next to you a few minutes later, and you frown at him, for leaving your side. “Where were you?”

“A fan recognized me,” he says, placing the bags next to him. Oh. It sounded like something Drew would do. Heck, you’ve seen him doing fan services, and he was very kind to fans (unlike you).

You turn to back to the singer, listening. 

You and Drew sit together on the bench, listening to the man sing for a couple of more minutes. But it was so good, that you didn’t want to leave. So, you and Drew sat there for another hour, until he was finally done singing.

You clap when he’s done, and he bows to you. Drew claps as well, and you turn to him. “He’s great,” you compliment, truly impressed by his voice.

“I know. The best concert,” he gives you a soft smile. “You hungry?”

“Not really,” you say, feeling full from the snacks you had earlier. You look over your shoulder, at the setting sun. This was the first time you’ve found yourself finding sunsets beautiful. Then, you spot the beach, with a few people walking on it. “Hey, there’s a beach there.”

“You wanna go?”

You look at Drew, “yeah, that sounds great.”

——

The two of you walk side by side on the beach, you carrying your heels and Drew carrying his, along with other small bags of stuff. You don’t talk; simply enjoying the smell of the beach, the sound of the ocean, and the calm feeling. 

It was dinner time, so the crowd that was here had left, leaving the beach to just you and Drew. 

Drew doesn’t talk either; walking in silence with you. 

You haven’t been to an actual beach in so long. The last time you put your feet in the sand was since… you can’t even remember.

But that’s the thing; you can’t remember. You can’t remember anything from your childhood, except for the torturing moments spent in rehab centers, the suffocating presence of the press, and the over-enthusiastic fans. The worst moments of your life, the ones that left the deepest marks, you recall with shocking clarity. Yet the good ones? Do they even exist?

Your gaze shifts to Drew, who’s walking beside you. He’s quiet, content with the walk, his eyes focused ahead, but there’s something about the way he’s there that makes your heart tighten. You think back to the first time you met him, and a pang of confusion hits you.

How did he even get into your trailer? How did the two of you even start talking? Was it the shoot that brought you together, or something else?

The MV. You remember flashes—distant moments where you two were thrown together, the cameras capturing your every move. But the interaction itself... it's all blurry. It’s like a haze, one that’s too fogged up to see clearly.

What even happened?

That realization hits you; like a stab to your chest.

You stop walking, and you feel tears slowly forming in your eyes. 

At the same time, rain starts falling. 

And a few seconds later, it’s pouring rain. But you don’t care. You’re too into this moment; the realization that you’ve been awake for so long. 

Drew stops after a few steps, and he turns around to face you. When his eyes meet yours, the same sincerity you saw this morning, you couldn’t hold it in. The tears slowly fall, one by one.

“It’s raining-“ 

“I…I haven’t been sober for this long,” you start, your voice shaky as you say those words. You smile at Drew; the tears being covered by the pouring rain. “And…and I want to remember this moment.”

Drew walks over to you, and he drops his stuff on the sand. He stops in front of you, cupping your face as he tries to wipe the tears off your face with his thumb.

He smiles at you too; and for the first time, you don’t find his smile annoying. Instead, warmth erupts inside of you. You cry even harder. “Told you it felt nice, right?”

You chuckle, “But I’m serious. This…I went a whole day without drinking or smoking.”

He doesn’t say anything; continuing to wipe your tears away and looking deeply into your eyes. The rain gets in them; but he doesn’t care. 

“And, and I want to remember this moment. This moment that I spent with you.”

Drew stays quiet for a few seconds, before saying, “Even if you forget; I’ll remember it for you.”

Then he adds, “I’ll be reminding you, over and over, over and over again."

You laugh at his response, finding it funny, and…sweet. Which is crazy, considering it’s Drew that’s saying it. “You’re annoying,” you lie, trying to push him away.

He chuckles too, his hand still cupping your face. “But it’s true. And I’m proud of you. You did it.”

“I did do it,” you murmur, looking at his blue eyes. “Thank you,” you add. You meant it. You meant every word you said earlier. You hope he knows it too. 

And because this moment felt right, you hug him. You didn’t care how gross it felt to be hugging when your clothes are soaked. You just wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. 

He returns the hug after a reluctant pause, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

You bury yourself into him, breathing into his scent, and feeling the rain soaking into the both of you. 

You also want to remember the feeling of hugging Drew. Not just in this moment, under the pouring rain, on the warm beach, and under the sunset. No, you just want to remember Drew. Drew, and how it feels to be hugging him. 

Yeah, Drew’s warm hugs. That’s what you want to remember the most. That’s what you want to carry with you, like a secret tattoo burned deep into your memory, one that nothing can erase or alter, no matter how many times you forget everything else.

Because, in this moment, Drew’s hug is everything. And maybe that’s enough.

-------------------------------

word count: 2.8k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: GUYS i got emotional writing this shit...goddamn it. hope you enjoyed this chapter, and ignore any mistakes i made (eng isn't my first language, probs should've mentioned it before). so...seems like theyre starting to like each other???

[anystalker707]

training (trying)

Pairing: Sam Monroe x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: you finally convinced your boyfriend to go to the gym with you. Tags: gym rat reader / drabble / whiny sam (as usual)

based on an interaction between @bimbo-baggins2-0 and @speaknow-sw

MASTER LIST

          “Got it?” You asked, letting the barbell down, and you really wanted to believe that Sam had been paying attention to your explanation, but the look on his face didn’t convince you.

Sam finally huffed and nodded. Your muscles looked terribly good when flexed, and it was easy to allow himself to imagine one of his band shirts tightly spread over your muscles. “Okay,” he said. “What’s this called ag—” He cut himself off with a groan when he grabbed the barbell from your hands—or at least tried to, since it fell to the ground with a muffled thud at the same moment. Silence stretched for a few seconds before he scrunched his face, a string of curses leaving his lips.

You nodded faintly and moved to change the plates for lighter ones. They were tiny compared to the ones you used, and Sam didn’t know which was a greater humiliation—the big difference between the weights you two lifted or how it seemed pathetic to have two little, thin plates on the bar like that. “Biceps curls. Just curls.”

The gym wasn’t all that crowded at that time of the day, aside from some people occupying a couple of equipment and the instructors wandering around. Taking Sam to the gym was an effort already, so you didn’t want to hear any more whining, in case there were too many people, though he still found something else to complain about. Well, the bad music choice wasn’t your fault, and he did have to eat proper food because Monster isn’t a meal, and you can’t grow bigger without eating. He didn’t have gym clothes, but he put on some shorts and a black t-shirt that contrasted highly with his pale skin, showing some of his sides because of the low cut, and it worked.

“All good,” you said, pushing the heavier plate away with your foot.

Sam continued staring at the barbell with his arms crossed over his chest, cheeks tinted red because of the embarrassment and the rush. How was he supposed to remember so many details and exercises? Eventually, he nodded. He positioned his feet with the same hesitance his hands carried when dancing across the barbell to find a proper grip on the rough metal. He finally stood up properly and took a deep breath to start the reps.

“Twelve.” Your eyes ran over his form to analyze the performance. Sam wasn’t the best, with those thin arms struggling to lift the weights that barely reached half of what you could lift, trembling with each movement. It shouldn’t be so adorable. You took a step behind him, touching his elbows lightly. “Hold still and align to your torso.”

His bottom lip was caught tightly between his teeth when Sam looked at you through the mirror, breath hitching as he kept doing the reps the best he could. They reached lower each time, barely going halfway up. You’d have to spend longer at the gym now—an hour babysitting him, an hour training.

“Up to your chest, baby boy! I know you can do it.” A chuckle would’ve escaped your lips if there weren’t the risk of accidentally discouraging him. “C’mon, almost there. Three… Two… One…”

Sam exhaled heavily as he let the barbell fall to the ground, hissing as he stretched his arms.

“If you keep letting it fall that harshly, the owner’s gonna kick your ass,” you warned. He glared, but it didn’t last long—his attention averted to the tingling sensation in his muscles. Sam mumbled something under his breath, about to walk off when you placed a hand on his shoulder to pull him back, pinching the back of his neck lightly. “Two more series. I know you can do it.”

Sam wouldn’t dare complain too much and get on your nerves again, not when you could manhandle him so easily. He was lost in thought as the memory of you carrying him around, lifting him off the couch so that you could sit down with him on your lap. How he would wrap his arms around your neck, legs around your waist, and your hands held his thighs firmly. So hot. He enjoyed it a little too much. Fuck, you could never find it out. Just when you were about to say something, he quickly grabbed the bar from the ground again, starting the reps, feeling a mix of pain and numbness in his biceps.

“Arch your back like you do it for me, baby.” Your breath was hot in his ear, sudden—Sam’s eyes widened, and his arms wavered. “Come on, Sam! Twelve more! The first one didn’t count!”

⋆°｡⋆🎧🎸★ 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆

[intoanotherworld23]

Chasing The Shadows

Pairing: Reader x Robert Floyd

Warnings: Mentions of killing and death, and description of violence, some minor kissing, swear words

Summary: When a deadly new virus breaks out into the world you and Bob Floyd fight for survival and for each other

Okay y’all this is someone completely new I’m writing for so you’ll have to let me know what you think of it so far! Hearts, reblogs, and comments are highly encouraged and appreciated! If you wish to be tagged for Lewis Pullman or this series let me know! IM TAGGING EVERYONE ON MY TAG LIST FOR THE FIRST CHAPTER SO IT CAN REACH A BIGGER AUDIENCE! Thank you everyone so much I love you all! XOXO

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"What's on the news?" Asking your husband as you plopped down on the couch a beer in hand passing him one.

"Somethin about a virus." He responded as he took a swig of his drink. "Already making its way into the states."

"A virus?" You questioned him as you looked over at him. "What kind of virus?"

"I don't know sounds like the flu or something." Shrugging your shoulders as you both continued to listen. Nothing was really being said about anything so it really peaked your curiosity as to what was really going on.

"Please the flu never really makes it through this town anyway." You scoffed hearing that. "Even if it did they wouldn't talk about it on the news."

"Well maybe if you stop talking and listen they'll tell us." He said making you lean back in exaggeration as you glared at him.

"What did you just say to me?" Placing your hands on your hips.

"You heard me." He mocked you as you opened your mouth partially lightly smacking his shoulder making him laugh. "Shhh there talking."

"You asshole." You joked both of you chuckling.

"Sources say this deadly virus is already spreading across the nation faster than the flu." Sighing loudly as that thought went out the window. "From what we've been told the major symptoms are high fever, rage, uncontrollable hunger, and swelling of gums."

"Jesus Christ what the hell kind of virus is this?" Bob asked leaning forward his elbows on his knees.

"Hospitals are filled with people all showing the same symptoms and doctors can't seem to figure out what the cause of this virus is."

"This definitely sounds worse than any flu I've heard of." Placing a hand on your chin eyes glued to the tv now.

"Hope they find the sorry son of a bitch who brought it here." Bob quipped as he quickly glanced at you.

"If he isn't already dead." Whispering but Bob still heard you anyway as he glanced at you with concern. "What?"

"Nothing." Stopping himself from really saying what was on his mind.

In that moment neither one of you really knew what to say or how to react exactly. This was the kind of stuff you saw on fantasy shows that had people wondering what if. Both of you were a little scared how how serious it sounded. Figuring you weren't the only ones who were feeling the same way.

"What should we do?" Whispering as you felt fear creeping up behind you. "Should we leave?"

"No I say we stay here until things calm down." Bob suggested sounding calm but you knew by the look on his face he was worried.

"Doesn't sound like things are gonna calm down soon."

"I bet in less than six months all that panic will have been for nothing." Bob shrugged his shoulders leaning back into the couch.

"Well there's no way in hell I'm gonna stay cooped up in this house for six months." You argued crossing your arms over your chest.

"State officials are asking that everyone stay inside and don't go out unless absolutely necessary." Bob looked at you with a proud smirk shaking your head at him with a giggle. "The only way to contract this unknown contagious virus is by being bitten or scratched."

"We'll just have to avoid being bitten or scratched." He joked nudging your shoulder.

"Please Robert don't joke this is serious." Keeping your focus on the news watching as they showed videos of different people being wheeled into hospitals and people driving by neighborhoods showing people losing control in their front lawns.

"I am taking it serious darlin." His tone softened when he could see the serious look on your face. "I'm sorry."

"Shit you'd think it was the end of the world or something." Bob shook his head as the newscaster continued to speak.

"Well it damn well looks that way." Showing a group of people already torching a building.

"Fucking hell." Bob exclaimed.

"Everyone is gonna lose their fucking minds once they all watch this." Taking a swig of your beer. "You remember what happened with that snow storm last year people wiped out everything in stores within days."

"Imagine what they'd do if we had an apocalypse." You continued feeling Bobs eyes on you.

"Baby I seriously doubt this is the apocalypse." Feeling an arm wrap around your shoulder pulling you in close. "I'll keep you safe don't you worry."

"I know you will it's just scary." Admitting to him as you felt your eyes tearing up.

"Nothing and nobody is going to even come close to hurting you." Kissing the side of your temple his lips lingered for a few moments.

As the two of you sat there drinking your beer flipping through channel after channel, and all they were talking about was this virus. Even your reality shows were being interrupted by breaking news. You've never seen anything like this before in your life.

Friends and family texting you non stop asking if you were okay. You were just hoping Bob was right about everything will eventually blow over. They'd have to find someway to stop it or at least slow it down. Then everything would go back to normal, and you and Bob would be safe.

"Let's go to bed baby." Bob turned the tv off as he stood up grabbing your hand lifting you off the couch. "Enough of this shit."

"I don't think I can sleep now." Pulling the covers back as you climbed into bed Bob right behind you.

"I know what I can do to help you sleep." Wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

"Babe stop." Giggling as he wiggled his hands to the edge of your pajama bottoms.

"Come on I promise it'll be the best you've ever had." Burying his head in your neck kissing your collarbone trying to move on top.

“You’ve said that one before.” Hands pinching your sides going into a fit of giggles as he started tickling you.

“Better watch that pretty little mouth of yours.” He warned as he hovered his body over yours.

"Bob." Moaning as you felt him grinding on you hands moving along the length of your legs.

Before anything else could continue further a loud boom shook the house cause both you and Bob to look out the windows. Leaning up on your elbows as Bob jumped out to check what the noise was. Watching as he looked around not seeing anything that really stood out.

"The hell was that?" Asking him as you sat up completely.

"I don't know baby I don't see anything." Shaking his head as you walked back over to you. "I think maybe it was a crash or something."

"That sounded a lot louder than a car crash." Timing couldn't have been more perfect as you both heard another crash.

"Robert that's not a crash that sounds like something exploding." Standing up as he walked out of the room to the front door.

Following after him as some of the neighbors were already ahead of you and Bob. Standing on their lawns looking around to see what those noises were, and where they were coming from. Fear was written across everyone's face, and parents tried to keep their children inside.

"Did you see anything?" Bob yelled to the neighbor across the way.

"Looked like an explosion from the center of downtown." He responded watching as Bobs face fell hearing his words.

"Get inside." Bob pointed at you as he jogged in behind you slamming the door shut. "Get inside now."

"What?" You yelled at him as he paced around the room. "Robert what?"

"Sounds like someone is blowing up the town." Covering your mouth with your hand a gasp slipping past your lips.

“What do you mean blowing up?”

“I don’t know there just blowing up the town.”

"We can't stay here." It came out more as a suggestion than a question.

Before Bob could respond his phone started to ring. Walking back into the bedroom picking it up hearing his muffled voice as you just stood there. Feeling like your feet were stuck to the ground, and your body was starting to slowly freeze. 

You couldn't believe what you had been seeing and hearing. None of this felt like it was actually happening. Everything went quiet to where you literally could only hear yourself breathing. Your eyes staying open not even able to blink.

"Yeah yeah we'll meet you there." You heard him say as he hung up the phone and came back out to you. "That was my buddy he lives on the other side of town says we should leave he's got a safe house for us to stay at."

"What's going on?" Asking him your voice shaky as your eyes started to water.

"People are destroying the town and police are shooting people down in the streets." His words made your eyes go wide. "There patrolling neighborhoods and refusing to let people leave their homes."

"So then shouldn't we stay here." Whimpering as you could already hear commotion from outside.

"No it's not safe we have to leave now." Running to the closet grabbing a couple of bags. "Take only things that we need."

Handing you a bag you started filling them with medicine, food and bottles of water. Bob filling his with an extra set of clothes and other medical supplies. Once your bag was filled you quickly zipped it and then ran into your room to change into something else, and slipping on a pair of shoes.

Taking a solid minute to think about what was happening. Trying your hardest not to burst into tears. Leaning forward as your head started to spin, and you felt like you were going to be sick. Praying and hoping that this was all some kind of terrifying dream, and you would wake up safe in Bobs arms.

"Here." Bob blurted as he shoved something cold and hard in your hands.

"I've never shot a gun before." Looking at the dark gray steel weapon laying flat in your hands.

"Let's just hope you never have to." Not knowing whether he was telling you that or himself.

It seemed a little overdramatic having weapons, but judging on what you were hearing and seeing weapons were probably necessary. Besides Bob wouldn't just hand you a gun unless he absolutely thought you would need it to protect yourself. Especially if anything were to happen to him.

Setting the bags near the front door as you waited for Bob who grabbed yours and his phones. Bob taking one last look around the house making sure you guys didn't forget anything. Neither one of you knowing when you were going to be back if you would come back at all.

"Let's go baby military is moving in now." He looked up from his phone as you both grabbed a bag and headed to the truck outside.

Throwing your bags into the bed of the truck as you hopped inside. Bob starting the truck pulling out of the driveway and down the road. Looking around to see people loading their vehicles everyone with a look of panic on their faces not knowing what was gonna happen.

None of this felt real in your mind, and almost felt like it was some kind of drill. Maybe you and Bob were acting like everybody else, and just panicking for no reason. Maybe everything would die down in a few days. Or maybe things would only get worse and never end.

"Do you think we'll be able to make it?" You asked Chris after minutes of silence.

"I don't know sweetheart." His answer had your stomach churning. "But I'm gonna do everything in my power to keep us safe."

"How long are we gonna stay there for?"

"Until all of this blows over." Hearing the engine roar as he put his foot hard against the gas pedal.

"What if this never blows over?" Sniffling as a tear ran down your cheek.

"Then we'll stay together no matter what." Answering without hesitation.

"I love you Bob." His hand grabbed yours kissing your knuckles as he kept his eyes on the road.

"I love you too." Remaining calm was his man focus in order to help keep you calm so you didn't start to panic.

Neither one of you spoke the rest of the drive as you got closer to town. People yelling and screaming down the streets some people were even attacking others. If you weren't terrified before you were absolutely petrified now.

People were breaking into buildings, stores, shops, and pharmacies. Leaving them with handfuls of items running away nobody even attempting to stop them. It was pure madness and it was happening right in front of your eyes.

Hearing a loud rumble as you looked up to see a couple of helicopters flying over heading towards the center of town. Most likely military which means they were already in town blocking people from leaving. This was far more worse than you and Bob ever imagined.

Looking down one of the streets to see a military tank blocking anyone from leaving or entering. People filling the streets as they were begging and pleading to leave. Guns being drawn in their face to anyone who dared to get close enough.

"We'll go down this street avoid them as much as possible." Turning down another street that was empty.

"What if there at this safe house already?" Your mind going to worst case scenario.

"They won't." He snapped making you jump a little at his tone. "Besides he would have let us know and we'd go somewhere else."

That's when something started ringing in your ear, and that's when it hit you it was gunshots going off. You didn't want to look back, but you couldn't help it as you heard screams echoing around you.

Regrettably turning back watching as men opened fire on people bodies dropping to the floor, and blood filling the streets. Crying as you faced straight ahead Bob grabbing your thigh massaging it in comfort. Keeping his brave face on knowing exactly what was happening behind him.

He was going to protect you and keep you safe as long as he could. Even if it meant that he had to sacrifice himself to do so he would in a heartbeat. Your safety is a priority to him.

"Are we almost there?" You asked as he turned down a dirt road.

"Yeah baby less than a minute." Nodding his head as you rested your head against the head rest closing your eyes for a quick minute.

All you wanted to do in this moment was just sleep. Sleep and not wake up until all of this was over. Thinking that sleep would help calm your nerves, but in all reality all you would be able to do is just close them and not actually sleep.

Neither one of you prepared for anything like this, and never thought that you'd have to. You and Bob were clueless just like everybody else. The both of you were just going to have to take things one step at a a time, and hope things didn't take a turn for the worst.

"Baby we're here." Bob spoke softly your eyes opening slowly.

Looking forward as you saw a brick house straight ahead. The doors and window were sealed shut with some kind of steel. As Bob parked the car you both cautiously looked around. Everything was eerily quiet, and all you could hear was the sounds of the trees rustling, and the crickets chirping.

"Where is he?" You asked not seeing anyone.

"He's preparing the bunker." Looking over at Bob who was on his phone. "Said wait a minute and he'll be out."

"He's got a bunker hidden in this house?" Looking skeptically at the house raising your brows.

"Yep his old man left him this house." Bob turned to you. "Said it would take a lot more than a couple bombs to get through to this place."

"Gee that's comforting." Sighing out loud making Bob chuckle.

"It's better than being stuck out there baby." He did have a fair point there.

Which was the truth since it sounded like people were going crazy out there. If it meant staying in someone else’s bunker for a while to stay safe then that’s what you were going to have to do.

"God I hate when you're right." Grumbling as he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him.

"Please you love it." Teasing you as he kissing your cheek multiple times.

"Just a little." Pressing your thumb and pointer finger together as you giggled.

"We're gonna be okay baby I can promise you that." Moving a hand up to your head stroking the back of it.

"I know you'll keep us safe." Pressing your hand against his both of you staring at each other.

A door creaked open catching both your attention as your focus now went to the opened door with a man standing in front of it. Bob hopping out of the car as you followed suit. Each grabbing a bag as you walked over to him. Eyeing the man with caution not knowing who he is.

Bob seemed to trust this man enough to do this, and you trusted Bob. Of all the people this guy could have called he chose Bob. Thanking your lucky stars that you would have some place to at least hide when all this is going down.

"Thank you for this Jake it means a lot." Bob patted the man on the back as he nodded.

"Bob this is my girl my wife Y/N." He introduced you the man glancing over to you. "Y/N this is an old very good buddy of mine Jake Seresin."

"The hell do you mean by old?" He scoffed cocking his head to the side.

"Your older than me." Bob joked as he punched his arm.

"Nice to meet you Y/N given the circumstances." Bowing his head down to which you gave a quick nod. "Alright let's head inside."

Following Jake inside the room it was practically empty. Expect for some desks and dressers that were opened and emptied. If you wouldn't have known better you would have thought this house was abandoned.

Your heart was starting to race a little bit more as you were being escorted around the house. Imagining a bunch of men running into the house with guns loaded ready to blow all of you sky high. Your breathing was becoming a little uneven and heavy.

Bob grabbed your hand in his noticing you were looking around and not really paying attention. Looking up at him as he gave you a weak smile and squeezed your hand. Silently telling you that everything was going to be okay.

Jake pulled back what looked like a bookshelf that revealed a metal door. Starting to feel a little hope and relief that things we're going to be okay with you both. Feeling a weight off your shoulders that you would both at least be sheltered.

"Just down these steps are where you'll both stay." He opened the steel door as Bob moved you in front of him hands on your shoulders.

Jake leading the way down a flight of steps turning on some fluorescent lights looking around to see steel walls. Multiples shelves stocked with food and water. Setting your bag down not noticing how dry your mouth was until you were staring at gallon jugs of water.

"This should last you both a couple months." Motioning around to all the food and water. "Here's where you two can sleep."

"And I even brought down some games so you two wouldn't die from boredom." Pointing to a shelf full of board games making Bob laugh. "Can't have any electronics on just in case there tracking."

"Which means turn your phones off." He requested as both you and Bob shut them down and threw them on the beds.

"What are you gonna do?" Bob asked Jake with concern and feeling bad you guys were taking over.

"Stay up top keep an eye on things." Shrugging his shoulders not sounding worried at all. "Make sure nobody gets in."

"Are you gonna be okay?" Bob not satisfied with that answer and worried for his friend.

"If I need you I'll holler brother." Jake joked both of them laughing while your face remained stoic.

"Jake thank you again for this." Bob praised with generosity.

"I would expect you to do the same thing for me." He responded smacking his arm with a grin.

"Absolutely brother." Bob shaking his hand with a loud clap.

"Do they know what kind of virus it is?" You spoke up both heads turning towards you.

"Yeah they do." He nodded his head as he looked down.

Neither you or Bob liked the way he said that or how his body language changed. Turning stiff and rigid like he just walked into something he didn't want to see. He stayed silent for a moment decided whether or not he wanted to tell you.

"What?" You pushed wanting an answer that he was hesitating on answering.

"The living dead."

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 13

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress

Oystein couldn't shake what Y/n had said about his music. She actually liked it. She wanted to hear more of him playing and now she'll never agree to go to another show. He wanted to be pissed off. He wanted to blame Pelle or the rest of his friends, anyone but himself. He hated not being able to talk to Y/n, or see her out and about. She had changed her shifts at the shop so frequently now that he never knew when she was in and Hammeed wouldn't tell him when she was working. He just said that she's got "things".

"How can you go bigger though? I mean the pigs head and bleeding into the audience is insanity but what could possibly top that?" One of their friends asked.

"What if you start cutting the wrists of the people in the audience? That would be crazy!" Pelle frowned at the suggestion.

"Yeah I'm pretty sure legally we would have some problems. If they want to cut themselves during the show, that's one thing but Pelle needs to stick to slicing himself up." Hellhammer made a valid point.

"What about bringing more road kill to shows? Passing it around?" Pelle suggested earning a nod from Oystein.

"You sick fuck, I can barely stand the smell of you guys day to day. The venues we play would kick us out in a heartbeat." Oystein laughed seeing Pelle find realization in the fine they received for the last bag they left behind.

Oystein's stomach lurched when he saw Y/n walk into the bar with a girl and guy with her. He hadn't ever seen her with friends and he wanted to assume they were co-workers but his lack of knowing put him on edge. He let his hair fall in front of his face so he didn't make eye contact with her. She noticed them immediately and walked past them without a second glance. After awhile, Oystein didn't care if she caught him staring, he wanted to know who she was with and why this guy was talking so closely to her. He didn't take into account that it was loud in the bar and that there was another girl with them. All he could think about was her being talked up by some random guy who looked like the complete opposite of himself.

Eventually he stood up to try and move towards the bar and talk to her but one of their crew noticed her finally and stood up.

"EURO LOOK! It's the buzz kill from the show!" He shouted. Y/n rolled her eyes and the two with her looked concerned.

"Maybe we should ask her what she thinks would be more black metal, Dead slitting his throat onstage or drinking the blood of a crow?" Oystein didn't say anything. He figured she would just ignore the question but she propped her elbows on the bar and sipped a beer.

"I think it's about as fucking stupid as cutting himself on stage and bleeding out in a sandwich shop." Now she had the attention of everyone.

"We've already established that you have no idea what black metal truly is. We don't play love and light. We play death and destruction." Oystein knew everyone was looking to him for fight and she laughed at him.

"It's sad you really think a genre of music has to reach people by offing yourself. Hopefully you have a backup singers list." She was tipsy and he didn't want to challenge her but he was on the spot now.

"How could you possibly understand the pure unbridled disgust and debauchery that goes into our world. You live in a mundane existence working two jobs and spending your time with sheep. Dead's connection to the music is his life force spilling out of his veins, breathing in the rot of death and spewing it onto those who worship in the darkness." Oystein preached, riling his crew and holding Y/n's eyes as she finished her beer, listening to his rant and seeing straight through his bullshit.

"Really? My mundane life is a product of circumstances. We all can't be financially supported by our parents, Prince of Darkness." Y/n slammed her now empty beer bottle on the bar top

"Y/n don't." Her friend tried to pull her back as she approached Oystein and made sure to step right into his space, unafraid.

"If you truly believe the absolutely idiocy pouring out of your mouth, you have got serious problems." Oystein breathed in her scent trying not to feel anything but he can't shake it.

"I'll meet you guys outside." Y/n told her friends who quickly hurried past Oystein towards the door as she walked towards the bathroom. Oystein tried to get lost among the crowd so he could intercept her coming out of the bathroom and she wasn't expecting him to yank her by the arm into a phone stall.

"Get off of me! You don't get to touch me ever again." Y/n growled.

"What the fuck is your problem? You ditched me, remember? Why are you coming at me in front of them? What point are you trying to make?" Oystein argued.

"Your minions called me out. I didn't start this Euronymous." The way she said his name stung.

"You didn't have to take the bait." Oystein pressed making her laugh pushing past him to get away.

"Newsflash, when you act like an idiot in public, you get what you get. Maybe control your little followers and I won't have to make you feel inferior in front of them." Y/n was getting under his skin and she knew it. He pressed her roughly into the wall and she stared at him.

"Why do you want me to be an asshole to you? You walked away and I'm trying to deal with that-"

"You don't get to treat me like a disgusting, worthless insect. You and Pelle and the rest of those fucks might get away with this bullshit but I won't be quiet." She gritted her teeth so close to his chin, he had to actively fight the urge to kiss her.

"You know you aren't like everyone els-" She shoved Oystein's chest hard sending him stumbling back into the opposite wall with surprising strength.

"You don't want me to make a fool of you? Stay away from me. Stop asking about me, stop showing up at my job wanting to know my schedule, stop putting my name on your fucking grocery courier. Just...fuck off." She finally walked away leaving Oystein still leaning against the wall, feeling truly hurt by her words. He had told her that all she had to do was tell him to fuck off. He didn't want to believe she wanted him to actually leave her alone but she said the magic words. He just didn't expect it to feel so heartbreaking.

[moonstrider9904]

Coruscant

Chapter 9 of Moonwalker: The Flame

{series masterlist} {next chapter} {previous chapter}

{crossposted to Wattpad - coming soon} {crossposted to AO3}

Summary: Sarah goes undercover to aid Riyo Chuchi on Coruscant, but in doing so, she is faced by her most unspeakable fears.

Tags/Warnings: Mature. Canon-typical violence, death, threats, force-choking, implied sex, language.

Word count: 7.7k

Songs: The Gem Sea Giant

Sarah sat back on one of the passenger seats of the Marauder with her eyes closed. The absence of light made it easier for her to focus on the sounds around her, from the whirring of the Marauder’s engines in hyperspace to the subtle chatter between Tech and Wrecker coming from the cockpit. She couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but the tones of their voices were constant and relatively calm despite the fact that they were headed towards Coruscant.

It had been a long time since any of them had been to Coruscant.

A sudden laugh emerging from Wrecker prompted Sarah to open her eyes, and when she did, she noticed Echo sitting across from her. His arms were crossed and his gaze was gracefully set on a point on the floor, oblivious to the fact that Sarah was looking at him. She stared at him, wondering what could possibly be going through his mind, and for a moment, she felt remorse. She’d been through a lot those recent months, and she wouldn’t deny it, but she couldn’t help but feel for a moment that she’d become detached from Echo.

That was when Echo felt her gaze on him, and he looked up. His brown eyes looked tired on his pale skin, and Sarah could swear that the bags under his eyes were somehow heavier. Sarah’s eyebrows furrowed in worry, but in return, Echo directed a soft smile at her as if he wanted to dismiss any of her concerns. It wouldn’t work.

“What’s with you?” Sarah asked him.

With that same gentle smile, Echo shook his head. “Just thinking. This mission Rex is asking us to help him with… it seems a hell of a lot bigger than anything we’ve done in the past few months.”

Sarah’s gaze absently wandered to the floor as she quickly recalled the events of the past months, and she was inclined to agree. Save for helping out Gungi and the Wookiees on Kashyyyk, and her own internal endeavors, Echo was absolutely right. Everything else they’d been focusing on for the past months paled in comparison to Rex’s efforts. It made his work seem like the front lines while the batch were on mere guard duty.

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Sarah obliged.

Echo got up and walked across to take a seat next to Sarah, leaning back on the wall behind him and gazing up at the ceiling. “It’s better than being alone, I guess.”

“Echo, is there something on your mind?” Sarah asked gently.

Echo chuckled softly. “Yes.”

Fair answer. Sarah hadn’t asked him what was on his mind. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t kept a secret from him throughout the past weeks. Enjoying his company, Sarah leaned back on the wall and gazed up at the ceiling much like Echo, and the two remained in silence until he finally broke the silence again, trusting in the confidence of his best friend.

“I was relieved when Rex’s transmission came in,” Echo confessed.

Sarah nodded slowly. “Yeah, boredom leads to insanity.”

“It’s not just the boredom,” Echo said. “Wherever Rex is involved, we know we’re gonna be doing something meaningful.”

The two sat up on their chairs and looked at each other. For a few moments, Sarah’s gaze traveled absently around Echo, deep in thought as she pondered on his previous words, reaching her own realization.

“I hate to break it to you,” Sarah began, “but so long as we’re mercenaries, our drive will always be the money at whatever cost.”

“Oh, I know,” Echo nodded, unamused.

Sarah chuckled. “I don’t like it either. It just seemed like the only choice after Kamino. It was the way to go.”

“But you want something more,” Echo prompted.

“Of course I do,” Sarah replied. “I want a home. I want my family together again.”

Echo nodded slowly and momentarily avoided her gaze at the realization that what they wanted was vastly different, and Sarah couldn’t help but observe his body language.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t keep fighting for now,” Sarah added.

Echo met her gaze again, silent. Sarah then leaned back on the wall again and softly sighed.

“You remember what Hunter told us when we joined them?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah,” Echo smiled briefly. “It was a different life back then.”

“And your path was different,” Sarah looked over at Echo. “The thing about paths is they can morph.”

Echo nodded, deep in thought. “I also remember what Rex told me. If that’s where you feel your place is…”

“Then that’s where you belong,” Sarah finished.

They made silent eye contact.

“That’s right,” Echo whispered.

Sarah smiled at him. “You were always the best of us, Echo.”

“Come on, the batch are crazy, but they’re all fine men,” Echo humbly declined.

“I don’t mean the batch,” Sarah stated. “I mean the GAR. The 501st.”

A sad smile appeared on Echo’s features as flashes of blue-painted armor and legions of clones marching raced through his mind, only for him to be brought back to his present life as a mercenary. His features then dropped, deep in thought.

“What would Fives have done in this life?” Echo asked.

“Honestly?” Sarah sat up with a chuckle. “Fives would be blazing through the galaxy, most likely with Rex. He’d despise the Empire more than anyone I currently know, but he’d use that to do good.”

Echo chuckled in return. “Yeah, he would.”

The two accompanied each other in silence until the Marauder exited hyperspace and Tech announced they were approaching Coruscant. Tech flew the Marauder into the planet’s atmosphere while everyone gathered in the cockpit and waited to land among the lower levels of Coruscant, seemingly far from the main complex of the city where the Senate and the Jedi temple were… or at least, the ruined Jedi temple.

The Marauder landed on a platform about halfway down one of the pits on the lower levels of Coruscant, and just as the engines were powering down, Sarah could see through the windshield that Rex’s figure was approaching the ship. She smiled at the sight and made her way down towards him with the others, lunging at Rex and giving him a big hug when she reached him.

“What happened to your hair?” Rex chuckled as he hugged Sarah back.

“Cut it,” Sarah giggled. “I kinda miss having it long, though.”

“Don’t, it looks nice,” Rex smiled serenely, letting Sarah go so that he could acknowledge the others. He first greeted Echo, and then Hunter, and as Rex finished greeting the entire squad, Sarah became aware of another person approaching them.

It was a young Pantoran woman who walked with an air of elegance. Her outfit was professional, and though she was clearly among the higher classes, nothing about her came across as opulent. Her long lavender hair was done upward, and the golden markings on her cheekbones contrasted with her rich blue skin; her eyes, large and round, held an unfathomable amount of wisdom for someone who would almost appear too young to hold whatever position she held, most likely a result of recent unfortunate events she’d had to witness.

“I’d like to present Senator Riyo Chuchi of Pantora,” Rex gestured at the woman as she stopped in front of the squad.

“Oh, we’ve been there!” Omega said excitedly.

Riyo looked over at Omega with a gentle smile, and then she greeted the others, demure with a hint of gratitude. Riyo’s gaze lingered on Sarah for a moment with a gentle curiosity, and her discreet smile widened subtly. Sarah felt it too. In other circumstances, Riyo would have been someone Sarah would want to befriend. She’d heard of Riyo many times from the clones and from Ahsoka back in her days in the army. It was nice to finally put a face on the name.

“Thank you for coming,” Riyo spoke. “If your reputation precedes you, we might have a chance against what’s going on here on Coruscant.”

“How can we help?” Echo asked.

Riyo’s gaze landed on Echo and she smiled softly, appreciative of his support.

“You’ll need context,” Riyo answered. “Please, follow us inside.”

Riyo turned around and led the way for the others to follow. Rex took notice of Omega following closely behind Sarah, and he hesitated, fumbling towards Sarah and Hunter and speaking in a hushed voice.

“Er…” Rex began. “I’m not sure what we’re about to show you is alright for Omega to see.”

Sarah and Hunter exchanged a wary look.

“What is it?” Sarah asked.

Rex leaned in and whispered the answer in Sarah’s ear, and she felt herself going pale.

“I’m not sure I want to see it,” Sarah admitted.

“You’ve seen worse in your day,” Rex assured her. “The kid, however, still has some innocence I’d like to salvage.”

“She can handle it,” Hunter affirmed. “She hasn’t exactly been shielded. Not like I didn’t try to.”

“Then come on,” Rex gestured.

Sarah fell to the back of the crowd and remained close to Tech as Rex and Riyo led them inside to what appeared to be a repair shop, and Sarah was doing fine until she saw the casket ominously placed on a large table. She stuttered in her footsteps—caskets and anything having to do with post-mortem were usually where she drew the line. Regardless, duty called.

Tech noticed her faltering. “Are you alright?”

She sighed. “Yeah. Just… hold me.”

Sarah clutched Tech’s forearm, and soon, everyone had circled around the casket only for Rex to reveal that the body inside had belonged to a clone, adding an evident tension to the air. In an attempt to leaven the weight of the sight in front of her, Sarah focused solely on Rex as she held tighter onto Tech, and Rex explained how they’d gotten there. He told the squad about Slip, about his discovery, about what he’d been doing and trying to achieve since the last time he and Clone Force 99 had met. When he finished, Riyo looked at the squad solemnly.

“Slip was taken out by this clone assassin not long after he came close to uncovering the truth about what happened on Kamino,” Riyo said. “And the assassin was after me as well.”

Echo sighed with disillusion evident in his features. “But how could a clone do such a thing?”

“Before he… died,” Rex began, his gaze faltering as he said the words, “this trooper spoke in a manner I’ve never heard another clone do so. That at any trace of identity, from his identifying number to any markings, were erased.”

“Erased?” Sarah asked.

“How is that possible?” Tech inquired.

“I don’t know,” Rex answered. “But all of these signs point to mind control, brainwashing, and we’re not even talking inhibitor chips here. This is far more sinister.”

Sarah broke through her fears and looked down at the casket, her thoughts pondering on the clone who lay inside it. She thought about this clone having begun in the army, fighting the cause he was bred for. He had brothers. He had a name, and a story behind that name, as all clones did. He was forced into serving the Empire, and then for some reason, he was plucked and put through some sort of training to turn him into a lethal masked assassin who would be capable even of killing his brethren. It was unthinkable.

Sarah looked up at Rex and Riyo. “What do you need us to do?”

Riyo stepped forward. “For starters, I need someone to testify to the Senate about what happened on Kamino.”

“We’ll do it,” Omega said. “We were there.”

“I can testify,” Echo proposed.

“That won’t be enough,” Hunter said. “You’re going to need proof. If the Senate and the Empire are already on the fence about clones, the testimony of a rogue group won’t sway them.”

“Which is where you actually come in,” Rex said. “Admiral Rampart is on planet, as is his Venator.”

“Rampart’s here?” Sarah let go of Tech and walked forward in front of the whole group. “Where?”

“In the Senate,” Riyo replied. “He’s representing the military forces for this bill.”

“What about his legion?” Sarah continued digging. “His squads, his elite soldiers, are they on the planet too?”

Riyo’s features softened in sympathy. “I have no way of knowing.”

“If we had seen Crosshair anywhere around here, you’d be the first to know,” Rex assured.

Sarah nodded, sighing her agitation away.

“If you can retrieve the command log from the Venator, then I can show it to the Senate,” Riyo said. “We’ll need it before sunrise tomorrow. I can keep Rampart occupied in the meantime, as well as try to sway some more of the senators toward our cause.”

“Let me go with you,” Sarah proposed. “Please.”

“I could use the help,” Riyo nodded.

“Can I come too?” Omega spoke up.

“No offense, Sarah, but you stick out way too much,” Wrecker intervened. “Maybe it should just be Omega and the senator in there.”

“I can get her a disguise,” Riyo said. “She’ll blend in perfectly. We just need to cover your marks, and I’m sure I have colored contacts somewhere.”

“That’ll be perfect,” Sarah agreed.

“Be careful, both of you,” Hunter instructed.

“Yeah, we’ll get what you need from the Venator, senator,” Wrecker added, and chuckled at the end. “Hey, that rhymed.”

Riyo chuckled at Wrecker, and the group scattered to prepare for their respective parts of the mission. Riyo, Omega, and Sarah disappeared deep into the repair shop, and when they returned to the landing platform, Omega wore a blue poncho over her attire and Sarah stole the spotlight. She was dressed in a burgundy gown with long sleeves that covered all the marks on her arms. The gown was discreet, but the color matched her to Riyo. Her hair was done in a low bun that covered any of the dark red strands that could have been exposed at the tips, and she wore a single golden brooch over the bun to further sell her status. On her face, Sarah wore foundation the tone of her skin to cover up all her markings, and her nebulous eyes were concealed by the gray contacts Riyo had available. The gray contrasted with her olive skin, and the full disguise made Sarah appear regal, as if she’d never fought a battle in her life. She drew every pair of eyes toward her as she made her way across the landing platform, and though Sarah was aware that she looked good, she couldn’t help but feel like a stray tooka with a diamond collar.

“Oh, she’ll blend in alright,” Echo said, and he directed his gaze at Riyo. “You did a great job with her.”

Riyo returned the smile. “That’s a relief.”

Sarah watched as Echo and Riyo’s gazes lingered on one another for a second too long until Riyo stammered and walked over to Rex to review final details of their plan to retrieve the command log. Echo watched as Riyo walked away, and when he turned to look at Sarah again, he noticed her temporarily gray eyes were already on him, and she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Echo scoffed. “No one’s gonna believe you’re her handmaiden if you keep acting like a child. Omega’s being more mature than you, for crying out loud.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Sarah cooed.

“You implied it,” Echo growled.

“You were staring at her,” Sarah wiggled her brows again.

“I think there’s something on your face,” Echo stood up to Sarah.

Sarah giggled, and she finally stood down from her teasing, looking at Echo with slight worry. “Be careful out there.”

“You too,” Echo replied, saluting her with his scomp.

Echo walked back to the squad, and Sarah was then approached by Tech. He was fully armored and had his helmet on, and as usual, he stared directly at his datapad as he walked up to her. He stopped close to her, reaching out a free hand to take Sarah’s.

“Crosshair is not on planet,” Tech said.

“What?” Sarah asked. “How do you know that?”

“I tapped into the military logs,” Tech showed her his datapad’s screen and looked at her. “He hasn’t been on Coruscant for a long time.”

“Does it say where he went?” Sarah looked at it.

“I’m afraid not,” Tech replied. “His destination is classified. Only his commanding officer will know where he is.”

“Well then, if I run into Rampart, I’ll say hi,” Sarah nodded.

“Sarah…” Tech tugged at her hand.

“Yes?”

Through his goggles, Tech scanned Sarah from head to toe before finally landing on her gaze again, his eyes visibly softening.

“Take these imperial clearance codes, I forged them myself. They’ll help you get into the senate,” Tech said. “Remember our distress signal agreement.”

“I will,” she smiled and pressed herself close to him. “You be careful too.”

“Always am,” Tech rested a hand on her waist.

They held each other for a brief moment before letting go, and Sarah walked over to Riyo and Omega for them to depart. Tech made his way back to the rest of the squad, seemingly oblivious to the way Rex was staring at him as he walked by. Rex then faced Hunter, unable to hide his surprise.

“When did that happen?” Rex asked.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Hunter growled.

“Hunter is still not adjusted to the fact that Sarah and I are a couple,” Tech said, his eyes still glued to his datapad. “I do not hold it against him.”

“Well…” Rex stammered. “We should, uh… probably… get going?”

Wrecker chuckled, shoving Hunter playfully. “Tech totally stole your girl.”

Hunter glared up at Wrecker before putting his helmet on. “Shut up.”

“The very reason why Sarah and I concealed the truth for so long was to avoid this sort of immature conversation,” Tech said. “We have a very brief window of time to get Senator Chuchi the command log. Let’s not waste time.”

“Right,” Rex steered back into his role of leader. “Let’s go, boys.”

The clones put all other things aside and headed towards the imperial shipyard.

*

Being inside the Galactic Senate headquarters was an experience of its own, but Sarah found it far more enjoyable to listen to Omega’s numerous questions and the way Riyo gracefully answered each one of them. Hearing Riyo talk about the senate and what she was trying to achieve would really make one strive for a higher purpose despite what they were trying to do, and it dawned on Sarah that a sensation such as that one was rare when working as a mercenary or a pirate. She thought back to the conversation she had with Echo on the way to Coruscant, and she found herself understanding more. And although Sarah probably wouldn’t jump at the idea of being a senator—it wasn’t as if roaming around freely in imperial proximity was a good idea anyway—Sarah realized there were times when even she lost sight of what she wanted to accomplish.

It was just as Crosshair had once put it back on Kamino. Sarah and the others were merely drifting through the galaxy from mission to mission without a cause or a purpose. Sarah missed having something greater to drive her.

And when the three of them turned a corner and Sarah saw a familiar face, she was suddenly reminded of what that drive was.

“Ah, Senator Chuchi!”

Sarah despised that voice.

“Admiral Rampart,” Riyo acknowledged him, pulling to a halt when she was just in front of him with Sarah and Omega flanking her sides.

“I thought it best to let you know that I have begun preparations for tomorrow’s vote,” Rampart said. “Surely, you must understand that this bill is in the best interest of the galaxy. Is that not what we are all striving for?”

“Yes, the common and greater good should be what all senators and imperial representatives achieve,” Riyo masked her disgust with dignity. “Though I’m afraid that rushing the voting on the military bill will yield unforeseen results.”

“No need to worry, senator, it has all been revised and handled by only the best officials,” Rampart answered.

Sarah’s blood was boiling. He didn’t acknowledge her or even Omega, as if they weren’t even of importance to him. And his good natured speech was despicable; Sarah knew just how much of a monster he was, and without even trying to hide it, her repulsion towards Rampart bled into her eyes as she pierced into him with her gaze. It was only then that Rampart bothered to look in her direction just as he was finishing what he was saying. His gaze lingered on Sarah, and he didn’t retrieve it; his eyes seemed to harden only faintly at her, and when he smiled in acknowledgement, Sarah could feel the twisted intention behind her.

“Senator, you did not tell me you’d be accompanied,” Rampart commented.

“It’s not uncommon for senators to bring their staff along, admiral,” Riyo answered with professionalism. “Especially not on days with such long hours.”

“It’s a pity, otherwise, I may have brought some staff of my own,” Rampart continued to look at Sarah as he said it.

Sarah clenched her fists behind her. She knew exactly who he was talking about. Riyo must have felt the tension rise, and her hand glided over to Sarah’s shoulder, bringing her attention away from Rampart.

“Admiral, what would you say if my handmaiden were to escort you?” Riyo asked.

Sarah tried not to look too quickly at Riyo, but that was the last proposition she’d expected to come from her.

“Pardon me?” Rampart asked.

“You are still quite new to this, and my handmaiden knows the protocol,” Riyo said looking at Rampart, and then she faced Sarah. “I can finish the preparations on my end. The vote is coming up soon, and it wouldn’t be right for the senate’s guest to be wandering around such a large facility with no guidance.”

The new plan became so clear to Sarah that she wondered how she didn’t come up with it first. It was perfect. Sarah would keep Rampart occupied while Riyo and Omega did everything they had to do, and in the meantime, Sarah could do some digging of her own.

“Well, if it’s no major problem to you, senator, I would be delighted to accept,” Rampart looked at Sarah.

Riyo gazed over at Sarah too, but all the latter did was smirk over at Rampart.

“Of course,” Sarah said.

“Very well,” Riyo nodded at Sarah. “I’ll see you after the vote.”

Sarah bowed lightly in deference, and she stood still as Omega and Riyo began to walk away. The silence grew thick as Sarah was left alone with Rampart, and when Riyo and Omega were out of sight, her eyes landed on him again, unamused. When Rampart looked at her, he scoffed and brushed a tad of fuzz from his uniform.

“Well, miss, why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable while we wait for the vote?” Rampart held his arm out to escort her.

She felt she would have puked, but she took his arm regardless of how unwilling she was to continue playing the handmaiden charade. They walked silently down the halls until arriving at a deserted room, one decorated elegantly with a large desk, chairs, and a couple couches, even a balcony that could overlook the whole city. Sarah walked in and examined it—it looked like the mix between an office and a home, and thankfully, the only thing missing from it was a bed. Sarah flinched when the door closed behind them, locking her inside it with Rampart, but she wouldn’t back down, not at that moment.

Rampart looked at her and seemed amused, and although Sarah was almost sure had recognized her already, she wasn’t willing to blow her cover while there was still a possibility she could fool him.

“You could have at least tried a different voice,” Rampart broke the silence. “However, your disguise is commendable. You almost had me fooled, but you didn’t have to speak for me to see right through you.”

Sarah said nothing, and her gaze on him was unfriendly.

“I know what you’re after,” Rampart said. “I can either give you what you want or keep you in the dark.”

“You’re not in charge here,” Sarah answered.

“Oh, but I believe I am,” Rampart threatened, pacing closer to her. “To be in here, you had to be thoroughly searched. You have no weapons on you, and using your abilities will give away your identity. Your hands may as well be tied behind your back.”

Rampart stopped just in front of her, towering over Sarah with an arrogant look plaguing his features. Rather than intimidation, Sarah felt impatience, and she wasn’t willing to continue stalling.

“Where is he?” Sarah spat.

Rampart raised his brows, shocked that she would get there so fast, and he laughed. “You do amaze me with your one track mind. Of course, it comes as no surprise to me, not after the last time you went to Kamino. All the time you and CT-9904 spent locked inside his private quarters… I’d have reprimanded both of you sooner had I not liked what I heard. Not to mention, what I saw.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, disgusted at his implications. “You saw nothing.”

“My senior commanders are under constant surveillance,” Rampart said. “I saw it all.”

She bared her teeth at him.

“I came close to making a proposition of my own,” Rampart continued as he came even closer to Sarah. “You two were having all the fun. Perhaps my involvement may have swayed my opinions in favor of the clones.”

“You disgusting son of a—”

“Watch your language, dear, it’s not appropriate coming from a handmaiden,” Rampart sneered.

“Quit playing around!” Sarah shoved Rampart enough to make him tumble a couple steps back, much to his surprise. “Tell me where he is.”

Rampart dusted himself off and regained his composure, and all hints of teasing and desire left him. “I’d pretend your terrible behavior would drive me to take it out on him, but the mere confirmation of you being alive is enough.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sarah growled.

Rampart smirked. “He told me you were dead.”

Sarah’s features momentarily softened, but with every second that passed and every word that came out of Rampart, any fear Sarah felt morphed into anger boiling through her veins.

“And it’s no surprise why,” Rampart continued. “I simply expected better, though perhaps one could not blame him. An error in judgment as grave as that one is bound to happen after thirty-two rotations stranded in a platform on Kamino. Regardless, lying to a commanding officer is still a grave offense.”

“Thirty two?!” Sarah stomped toward him. “You left him there for thirty-two rotations?!”

“Why do you yell at me?” Rampart said calmly. “You left him there for good.”

“That’s not true!”

“I was overseeing my official imperial duties, I couldn’t be taken away from my post to scan the ruins of Tipoca City. And he tried to cover up for you even after that,” Rampart mused. “Ah, what a tragedy. It almost makes it pitiful that I’ll have to enforce the consequences now that his lie has been uncovered—”

Rampart abruptly stopped talking to clear his throat, and he coughed in an attempt to talk again, suddenly feeling himself unable to breathe. His once confident gaze widened in fear, and he looked at Sarah again to see her holding her hand up in front of her, with her palm facing up and her fingers tensed like claws. She stared at him viciously, mercilessly, and all around him, Rampart could hear a low rumble as he made a futile attempt to free himself from the invisible strain over his throat. Sarah watched unwaveringly as Rampart squirmed, guiltless after all the trash and the threats he’d spat her way. She felt the power coursing through her, the hate and the anger rising within her as she walked closer to him and Rampart attempted to crawl away.

“If I let you live, you won’t lay even a finger on Crosshair,” Sarah snarled. “You will tell me where he is. Now!”

“I-” Rampart struggled. “I don’t know where he is!”

“You lie!” Sarah growled, pressing harder.

“He was reassigned to a lieutenant by the name Nolan!” Rampart cried. “I haven’t known his whereabouts for months, I swear!”

Sarah didn’t relent.

“Please!” Rampart begged. “You need me alive!”

Only then did Sarah release Rampart from her grip. He dropped to the ground coughing and clutching his chest, looking up at her in fear with a hint of anger. Sarah walked up to him, equally unamused with him.

“Where is this Nolan?” Sarah asked him.

Rampart didn’t respond. Sarah held her hand out again without power, only as a threat.

“I can still do this,” she said.

“I don’t know where he is now,” Rampart flinched. “He’s on a series of missions along several imperial outposts. CT-9904 was reassigned months back, his records are no longer under my possession.”

“You’ll get me those records,” Sarah ordered.

Rampart scoffed. “What makes you think I’ll do that?”

“If you get them to me, I’ll sway Senator Chuchi to vote in favor of your bill,” Sarah said.

Rampart raised an eyebrow. “That could take days. The vote is tomorrow. You’ll need to sway her before.”

“Not a chance, I don’t trust you enough,” Sarah said.

“I don’t trust you either,” Rampart snarled. “I think you’re just an infatuated girl angry at the world because she can’t have her little toy with her. Perhaps if you’d had any sort of experience with a real man—”

Sarah wouldn’t listen to any more. She had just begun to raise her hand, but anger blinded her from her surroundings, and Rampart was quicker to react. From his belt, he took a taser, one like Sarah had never seen before, and all it took was one tap of the electric tip to paralyze Sarah’s entire body, sending her plummeting to the ground squirming in pain and whimpering helplessly. The taser didn’t render her unconscious, but she was still unable to move, unable to do anything to defend herself.

“You almost had me there,” Rampart mocked. “Too bad you’re simply too weak.”

Sarah groaned at him, wishing she could at least muster the strength to reach out and scratch him, smack him, punch that disgusting face of his, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything.

“You made a mistake crossing me. Have fun with the Coruscant guard. They’ll most likely take you to the Emperor himself once I tell them what your crimes are,” Rampart replied. “And don’t even think about looking for your little clone while you’re on the inside, you have my word that your precious CT-9904 will face the firing squad.”

Sarah growled. She strained and struggled, unable even to yell at Rampart as he made his way outside of the room while Sarah lay there helpless. She wanted to believe, with every fiber of her body, that Rampart had just been spewing empty threats. She wanted to believe she hadn’t just sealed her fate as well as Crosshair’s, that she hadn’t just failed miserably and cost herself and her family far too much for anyone’s good. And as the fear coursed through every corner of Sarah’s being, all she was able to do was weep in desperation.

Hours passed as she lay there, alone and in the dark. The only good that could have possibly come of it was that no Coruscant guards arrived to take her away, but she was still sulking in her terror and her misery. Sarah tried to move her body to no avail; each time, pain shot through her limbs. But she couldn’t risk wasting precious time. Every second she spent there, Rampart could have already given the order against Crosshair.

Sarah put the fear of pain aside. The fear of losing Crosshair for good was far too great for her to care about anything else. And so, she pushed through it, straining her arm towards the belt of her gown and reaching for her hidden comm, crying through the pain until she finally brought the comm up to her lips and dialed Tech’s frequency.

“Sarah?” Tech’s modulated voice came in through the comm. “What is going on? Are you alright?”

“Tech…” Sarah whimpered. “Tech, you need to come help me. Please.”

“Where are you?” Tech asked her. “Are you not with Omega? She just received the command log.”

“No, I’m in a room somewhere in the senate building,” Sarah replied. “I can’t move.”

“Are you hurt? Sarah?”

“I—” Sarah hiccuped, stifling a sob. “I was tased, I can’t move!”

“Sarah, be patient, Omega’s on her way to you,” Tech assured. “I will infiltrate the senate—”

“No, it’s too dangerous!” Sarah cried. “Tech, I… I messed up.”

“Sarah, you’re going to be alright,” Tech comforted her through the comm.

In full force, Sarah began to wail.

“I just did something terrible!” She kept crying. “I think I just put Crosshair in danger!”

“Sarah, please breathe,” Tech told her. “What do you mean?”

“Sarah?” Echo’s voice came in through the comm. “I need you to calm down, and I need you to explain.”

“I tried to get information from him, from Rampart,” Sarah sobbed. “But it backfired, and he threatened him! He threatened Crosshair!”

For a brief moment, there was silence through the comm, but soon enough, she heard Tech’s voice comforting her again.

“Rampart is currently busy with his bill’s vote,” Tech explained. “If we lay out the facts, we know that he has no access to Crosshair at the moment, and once the truth about Kamino is exposed, he will be rendered a criminal. No one will be taking orders from him, nor will he have the autonomy to execute his own plans.”

“Crosshair’s going to be fine, Sarah,” Echo said through the comm. “You just wait for Omega to go get you. She’ll come through. Once we’re all back together we’ll figure something out.”

“Hang in there, darling,” Tech said. “We’ll be together soon.”

At that moment, the door to the room Sarah was laying in opened, and she felt three different pairs of feet approaching her. She thought she was done for, and that the Coruscant guard had finally made it to her, that she was going to be taken prisoner most likely to suffer a fate worse than just being in a cell, but the fear began to fade when a soft, small hand placed itself on Sarah’s shoulder.

“Sarah!” It was Omega who cried out and gently helped shift Sarah to look up. She was accompanied by two of Riyo’s bodyguards, and one of them had a first aid kid from where he retrieved a vial. He injected the liquid just behind Sarah’s hip, and though the sting of the needle did little to relieve Sarah, she felt the antidote spreading through her body and the mobility slowly returning. Not long after, she was finally able to relax, and her eyes drifted toward a worried Omega, who gently stroked Sarah’s hair.

“What happened?” Sarah asked. “Are you okay?”

Omega nodded, and a little tear slid down her cheek. “I’m okay. Are you?”

Sarah began to sniffle again as the two bodyguards helped her stand up, and as she panted, Sarah reached to clutch Omega’s shoulders.

“What happened? Where’s Riyo? Did you get the command log?” Sarah inquired.

“Yes,” Omega said. “And, well… Rampart was arrested.”

Sarah couldn’t help but feel relief, but the fact remained that his arrest didn’t mean he didn’t give the order before.

“So, the senate knows that Tipoca City was destroyed intentionally?” Sarah asked.

Omega nodded, but she reflected no sense of victory. “Yes, but… There were clones on that Venator, clones serving the Empire when it happened. It gave them leverage.”

“How?”

“The clone rights bill failed,” Omega looked at the ground as she spoke. “And the senate voted almost unanimously for stormtroopers.”

Sarah’s heart sank. Even in their success, they’d been faced with a surprise failure.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Omega said softly. “Tech contacted me while he was with you.”

Sarah nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

*

As Riyo and Rex were filling the squad in on the outcome of the voting, Sarah sat silently in the Marauder. Her legs were pressed tight together and she held her hands over her thighs, and she was slightly hunched over in her posture, her eyes vacantly staring at a point on the ground. She’d let her hair down and removed the contacts from her eyes, and she constantly found herself looking at whatever reflecting surface she could just to make sure they were still their natural blue and pink starry hues.

Despite her evidently having tapped into her inner darkness, her ill premonition from the caves hadn’t yet come true. Sarah knew she had to be more careful. And as she continued to ponder on how easily she’d slipped into such an extreme, she felt her chest going cold and her head getting heavy, with her hands subtly beginning to shake.

Sarah straightened up when she heard someone climbing up the Marauder’s platform, and she sighed softly when she saw that it was Echo. Her features dropped at the sight of him.

“If you need me to stay, I will,” Echo told her. “But I’m telling you, I’m sure Crosshair’s going to be fine.”

Sarah got up from the chair and walked over to him. “I truly hope you’re right, Echo. And as much as I do want you to stay, I don’t want to stand in the way of your path.”

With a sad smile, Echo thanked her silently.

“How did Omega take it?” Sarah asked him.

“She’s upset, as we all expected,” Echo answered.

Sarah nodded slowly, and she inhaled sharply as a small realization made its way into her mind. “Actually… here, I want to show you something.”

Sarah went to the back of the ship and searched around the Firepuncher’s pack for the little hard drive she’d kept close to her for a while now. Never having found the ideal moment to sit down and watch its contents, Sarah knew that it was either now or an indefinite wait. She made her way back to Echo with the drive and she plugged it into one of the computers, selecting the first file on it.

“What is this?” Echo asked her.

“AZI gave me this,” Sarah said. “He said I’d want to see it because of who’s in the recording and, well… I think you’ll want to see this too.”

Sarah pressed play and, on the screen, the vivid image of a long lost loved one appeared. He was tall and handsome, smiling with the most charisma any living being could have, and he looked like the perfect soldier in his white, blue, and gray ARC trooper armor. He was staring right at the camera, chuckling just before standing up from where he was sitting.

“I’m telling you, she’s freaking amazing,” Fives said in the recording. “She’s got these cool markings over her face and her eyes look like galaxies. You’ll know her when you see her, you can’t miss her.”

“And is her name also a word play on a number?” AZI’s voice filled the recording. “Like yours, Fives?”

Fives chuckled. “No, no, her name’s much prettier. Her name’s Sarah.”

Sarah felt herself tearing up at the recording, but she wouldn’t bring herself to regret watching it. It was simply painful to see Fives so happy and to remember how she’d lost him, and inevitably, the fear began to creep into her heart again at the thought of losing Crosshair in a similar way.

“Oh, she’s coming!” Fives said in the recording. “Hey, were you filming this entire time?”

And the recording ended, taking them back to the file select among several other videos in the drive. Sarah and Echo stood for a moment in silence, each one smiling sadly and pondering on the past.

“Fives started this,” Echo broke the silence. “He discovered the inhibitor chips. I owe it to him to continue his legacy.”

Sarah nodded and looked at Echo through teary eyes. “He’d be so proud of you, you know that?”

Echo chuckled sadly. “Sarah, you’re gonna make me cry.”

Echo and Sarah faced each other and held hands, and Echo looked at her in the eyes with a gentle gaze.

“I’m not gone forever, alright?” Echo said. “You have my frequency and I’ll be there if you ever need me. That’s a promise.”

Sarah sniffled as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “We are too.”

The two pulled each other into a tight embrace, holding one another as if they’d never let go.

“You go and find him,” Echo suddenly whispered. “You find him and you bring him back.”

Sarah pulled apart from the hug enough to look at Echo. “Who?”

Echo gave her a jokingly disappointed look. “Jabba the Hutt. What do you mean, who?”

Sarah chuckled through her tears. “I thought…”

“He’s our brother and he’s been controlled and manipulated, much like that clone assassin, and every one of our brothers within imperial ranks,” Echo said. “He deserves his freedom as much as any one of us do. I’m gonna fight for all of us, Sarah. For Fives, for Cody, for Hevy, for Cutup, Droidbait, 99, everyone. Including Crosshair. But… something tells me you’ll see him before I do.”

Before Sarah openly wept, she threw her arms around Echo and held him tighter than ever. She sobbed into his armor, wishing time could stay still and she wouldn’t have to let go of another person she loved. But she couldn’t stay in that moment, and instead, she pulled apart to look at Echo in the eyes, and she willed her tears to stop for long enough to speak to him.

“I’m proud of you, Echo,” Sarah said. “We all are.”

Echo smiled at her. The two leaned in close and their foreheads rested on one another for a brief yet timeless moment, and after that, Echo walked down the Marauder’s platform. When Sarah was alone again, she browsed the files to keep her mind occupied, and she was doing alright until she stumbled upon one that sparked her distress all over again when she saw the identifying number.

CT-9904.

In a heartbeat, Sarah opened it. The recording wasn’t a heartwarming as Fives’ had; it was a silent recording of Crosshair sitting up on a bed in what appeared to be the Kaminoan medical facility. The recording had been taken before Bracca, as she could tell from his missing scar and his full head of silver hair; he’d been stripped of his armor and was merely in his blacks, and as he sat up, he looked tired, unwilling, unhappy. In silence, Crosshair had looked directly at AZI as he recorded him and spoke a few instructions to him, but while AZI talked, Crosshair remained with the same lack of spirit in his features.

Sarah felt as if he was staring directly at her, and she felt her inside world begin to crumble. She should have fought harder to remain at his side, she should never have parted from him. She should have done a better job keeping him safe, and now, there was no telling what was going to happen to him. She thought of Echo’s words, his encouragement to find Crosshair and bring him home, but what good would that do to either one of them if Rampart’s threat went through?

“I think he’ll be fine.”

Sarah flinched when she heard Hunter’s voice filling the Marauder, and she quickly stumbled to pause the recording. Hunter walked inside slowly, inevitably looking at the image of Crosshair on the screen, and when he looked back at Sarah, he held out Tech’s datapad for her.

“Senatorial logs,” Hunter continued. “They apparently have this system in the hallways where they monitor movements and record where their more important staff goes. According to these logs, after Rampart left you in the room, he returned to the senatorial chamber. He was never accompanied by any subordinates, nor did he send out any executive orders, communications, or similar, all the way up to his arrest. Everything he said, everyone he interacted with, is documented here.”

Sarah took the datapad and observed the heavily logged datasheet before looking back up at Hunter.

“This means…” Sarah trailed off.

“Rampart didn’t give the order,” Hunter gazed heavily at Sarah despite his comforting words. “He was arrested before he could.”

Sarah sighed sharply and she sat back on her chair, panting as she assimilated the facts.

“He’s safe,” Sarah whimpered just before looking up at Hunter again. “How did Tech find this?”

“He didn’t,” Hunter said. “I did.”

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly at such an unexpected revelation.

“I know how to hack a few things myself,” Hunter added as his features softened, though he still seemed mildly upset. “I just knew it would eat you inside. I heard how worried you were. I could feel it. And you’ve been through enough already.”

Sarah’s features softened as she clutched the datapad close. “Thank you.”

Hunter gave a soft smile at her before turning around and heading into the cockpit, and shortly after, the rest of the squad followed. The last one up was Omega, probably having lingered behind to say another goodbye to Echo. When she was on the ship and the platform closed behind her, she scanned the ship with her eyes until she found Sarah, and when Sarah looked at her, she opened her arms, inviting her in as her own eyes filled with tears again. Omega ran up to her and threw her arms around her, sniffling into her shoulder, and the two remained as such as the Marauder took off from Coruscant.

For the entire duration of the trip, Sarah and Omega remained close to one another, until they both eventually drifted off to sleep where the recent events couldn’t haunt them.

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[merryfortune]

I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do

August 15th: Marriage | Sea Bathing/Beach | Crossover

Title: I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do, I Do

Ship: Sideshipping | Anzu/Shizuka

Series: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,191

Tags: Past/Referenced Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Hopeful Ending

   It was a little too late to have cold feet about it. 

   Not too late for a divorce, Shizuka reasoned, even though she and Anzu had only been officially married for all of what… two hours? The cake still had its knife in it in case anyone wanted to go for seconds after the bridal dance.

   Marriage was a big, bureaucratic thing. It also seemed like something well way off into a murky future tomorrow that would never actually become today but lo and behold. The bell now tolled for her and her lover, letting half the countryside know that she had become Mazaki Shizuka. 

   The thought filled her with bubbles for a while. Cheery, exciting bubbles of a happier future which was so faraway, it could never happen. Now it just filled her with bile. She felt like she could puke it all up and over her sparkly white shoes bought especially new for the occasion. She could taste everything at the back of her throat, the wedding cake, the main meal, yesterday’s breakfast, whilst she stared at the champagne slowly going flat in her glass. 

    “Are you okay?” Anzu asked. “Not feeling nervous for our big dance, are you?”

   “Oh, um, only a little.” Shizuka lied through her teeth.

   Anzu reached across the head table and placed her hand at the edge of it. She tapped the pristine tablecloth and coaxed Shizuka to place her hand atop of Anzu’s. That’s better. Anzu held her hand, stroked her skin. A tingle went down Shizuka’s spine as she listened to Anzu’s kind words that proceeded.

   “We’ve practised so much, you’ve done so well. We’re gonna stun.” Anzu encouraged her, entirely oblivious to the problems causing the obvious raincloud of Shizuka’s head.

   “Yayyy.” Shizuka weakly replied.

   That was true. Anzu’s words did spark joy - or at least the idea of it. Shizuka smiled sheepishly as she recalled all the effort that had gone into the wedding. The fraught discussions of if it should go ahead at all because of what Shizuka had witnessed as a child during her own parents’ marriage. It lingered but it didn’t lose her completely.

   She knew the sacrament and milestone meant the world of Anzu who was so full of so many dreams and Shizuka wanted to be one of them. So, she said yes with a heart in the right place and full of hope. The mania that followed was stressful but it was fun, too. She felt like the centre of not only Anzu’s world as her bride to be but the whole world’s.

   Shopkeepers bent over backwards for them as potential patrons since weddings meant an even bigger pricetag could be attached to their goods and services. The window shopping and actual shopping for an engagement ring. Cake testing and florist visiting. Dress shopping was the best and the worst, not a moment was spared in the pursuit of perfectly tailored glamour. 

   The result was that this was not a wedding that had happened overnight with little foresight or forward planning. It had been in the works for two years.

   Yet now, for all that preparation, Shizuka wanted to leave Anzu at the altar. Or she should have. She was regretting not doing that now but it would be a waste to spoil a good dress and a banquet and how much money it cost to hire venues and such.

   The sound of squeaky shoes on linoleum alerted Shizuka to the end of her reverie. Anzu looked up and over her shoulder, welcoming Katsuya back to the head table.

   “Hey girls, I mean, ladies,” he said as he held onto the back of Shizuka’s chair to say hi, “I just got done talking with the DJ, you two’s dance is queued up if you want to get ready. Powder your noses or something first.”

   “Thanks, Katsuya.” Anzu said and she glanced at Shizuka. “Do you need anything first?”

   “Er, nope, I’m good!” Shizuka chirped.

   Anzu gave her a big smile, the corners of her eyes crinkled with laugh lines and excitement. Shizuka’s stomach plummeted to the floor and she was taken by the hand, pulled along by Anzu to the centre of the stage. The lights around the dancefloor dimmed as they made their way to the middle of it. Their guests - only their nearest and dearest - whooped and hollered. 

   A wedding was a series of exciting events - the vows, the kiss, the cutting of the cake, and then of course the dance - but as the final one, this one had the most pressure on it to get right. Or wrong and be made a joke of for years to come. Shizuka hoped that it wouldn’t be the latter.

   She had the world’s best broadway dancer to guide her. She also had eight weeks of practice behind her with the world’s best broadway dancer and her favourite choreographer as well. In theory, she should be fine. Even with what felt like thousands of eyes on her, Shizuka took position with Anzu in front of her.

   Anzu’s hands were calm and steady amid the nerves. She was so effortless when it came to her passions, her talents. She worked hard and the rest, she just trusted in that hard work, that it wouldn’t be in vain but Shizuka wasn’t quite so free.

   “You ready?” Anzu asked, her voice a whisper.

   “As I’ll ever be.” Shizuka murmured. She so badly wanted to be sick.

   She had woken up this morning feeling like a princess. On top of the world. Now she felt like the pauper, or more accurately, the pauper who should have been inside of a pauper’s grave. She should have rolled over and pretended today was written off, that nothing of import was scheduled to happen.

   Their music started. Shizuka hazarded a smile. Those opening notes were so comforting and familiar. Even if they heralded the beginning of the choreography, there were so many things to remember and opportunities to make a mistake but this was their song. Or one of them, at least. It was light and silvery and reminded Shizuka of her and Anzu’s first night together in New York. It was Christmas and they went sleighing through the snow. Oh, it was magical.

   Holding onto that memory, with Anzu holding her hand through every motion, Shizuka allowed herself to re-enter her very own wedding. She was spun and twirled, dipped to and fro. Anzu took the “masculine” lead so she could show off her more masterful talents at dancing. She had the whole crowd proud with her moves. 

   Anzu looked so gorgeous as she danced a modernised version of the waltz. She was in her element, sparkling beneath her makeup and well coiffed hair. Her footwork was swift and delicate, the tule of her dress bounced in tune with the music and her movements. It was very clearly the happiest moment of her life.

   And for both herself and for Anzu, Shizuka couldn’t be happier and yet.

   She was still detached from it. Eaten away by her worries, merely going through the motions as though she were the doll inside of a ballerine’s jewellery box, turning on a screw. Not that she minded. The dance was simultaneously an eternity and not long enough as the music began to fade out. She had done it. She had survived dancing with Anzu to conclude the official matters of their wedding.

   It was a weight off. Literally. Shizuka’s shoulders no longer felt quite so sloped as Anzu changed how she held her wife around her waist.

   They paused long enough to take a vow. Katsuya’s voice was boisterous over all, he couldn’t be happier for his sister and his now sister-in-law. It embarrassed Shizuka.

   “Thank you muchly.” Anzu announced. “Please, feel free to enjoy more food, the music, let’s party until dawn!” She split into laughter.

   But Shizuka wasn’t.

   And that popped up on Anzu’s radar. Shizuka didn’t know if that was an “oh no” moment or a “finally” moment. Either way she felt guilty as Anzu readjusted herself. The music changed to more upbeat party songs to coax people onto the dancefloor. 

   “Hey, um, is everything okay?” Anzu asked quietly.

   She took Shizuka by her hands again, propping them up on Anzu’s shoulders and Shizuka let it happen. The distance between them, with Shizuka’s elbows locked, made them look like middle schoolers leaving a ruler’s worth between them. It was kind of silly. Especially as, together, they bopped along to a Top 40 favourite from twenty years ago. Shizuka stared at her feet though as they did so as she mulled over Anzu’s question. Anzu waiting patiently, not pressing it as they were in public and if Shizuka was close to a melt down, neither would want that as they were the centre of attention.

   “Well, um, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” Shizuka mumbled half way through the song.

   They drew in closer to one another. They were more romantically chest to chest whilst remaining appropriate for a wedding. Shizuka absorbed Anzu’s bodily warmth, deeply breathed in her pretty perfume and sighed.

   “I want a divorce.” Shizuka announced.

   Anzu snorted in disbelief, “What?”

   “Well, um, I’m… I’m worried. What if this isn’t such a good idea?” Shizuka rambled. “Like, this whole. Getting married thing.”

   Anzu’s expression softened. She had been ready to cop this as a joke but she could sense from Shizuka’s melancholy that this was really eating her up. Shizuka appreciated the shift as well. She licked her lips and was mindful of the heavy rhythm of how her heart was pounding in her chest.

   “I just remember being so scared of my father as a child.” Shizuka mumbled. “He was awful to me, to Katsuya-nii, and of course to our mother. He drank all our money away, pushed us around. I have no good memories of my parents’ marriage. I know I was so young and sickly but it was quite formative.”

   “Oh, Shizuka…” Anzu breathed, dripping with sympathy.

   She cuddled Shizuka closer. She rubbed Shizuka’s back and it made her arms twitch. They still danced. They slowed down, their footwork was clumsy and they were out of time with the music. To their friends and family, it looked like they were slow dancing. Not having a heart-to-heart as they whispered amongst themselves.

   “What if you start doing that?” Shizuka murmured, her brows furrowed. “What if you lose your job and blame me?”

   “I would never.” Anzu replied.

   “Do you really think I’m so awful?” Anzu asked, head tilted, trying not to be offended.

   “No, not at all!” Shizuka protested. “I think you're wonderful, the best woman in the world and I’m very fortunate to have you but…” Shizuka’s voice trailed off. Her tone of voice was frantic until it fizzled out. She took a breath. “Or, worse still, what if it's me? What if I wake up and start being horrible to you?”

   “Oh, Shizuka, you would never.” Anzu gasped, more offended at the idea of Shizuka turning abusive than her.

   “How do you know?” Shizuka argued, eyes watering. “What if I start drinking and start pushing you around?”

   “You wo-” Anzu stopped herself in her tracks and Shizuka cringed but looked up at her, studying her. Anzu took a deep breath and she nuzzled against Shizuka’s face.

   Shizuka requited the affection. Anzu’s face was soft but chalky with foundation and other makeup. 

   “You're right.” Anzu told her.

   “Huh?” Shizuka blinked.

   Anzu pulled back and shrugged, “I don’t know what will happen in the future. I don’t know what I’ll be like nor what you’ll be like. Anything can and will happens, I could get hit by a truck tomorrow-”

   “Don’t say that!” Shizuka interrupted.

   “That’s rich,” Anzu laughed, “but you get the point, right?”

   “Right…” Shizuka chewed on her reply.

   “Marriage is hard.” Anzu started again, reiterating. “We’ll probably fight, we’ll probably have really boring days and really busy days. We’ll have good ones and bad ones but we’ll make it work, I promise.”

   Shizuka smiled a small smile. The butterflies in her stomach were back but it felt oddly good. Not great but it was fuzzy and hopeful which was good enough for her to deem it, well, good. 

   “Thanks, Anzu,” Shizuka replied, “that… That I can believe. That we can do it, we can put the hard work in.”

   “I’m glad,” Anzu murmured and she leaned in, “but if there are days which are excruciating, which make you want to throw in the towel, there are steps we can take before we get to a point where… where we hurt ourselves or each other, you hear?”

   “I do.” Shizuka replied.

   She tilted her head up and she kissed Anzu on the lips.

   Her lipstick was glossy. Her breath had the tingle of champagne. Shizuka committed it all to memory and took Anzu’s words here more to heart than their actual vows that had been rehearsed many a time in the bathroom mirror. She kissed back and surrendered herself to the idea that perhaps marriage can be a dream of hers as well.

[skibasyndrome]

Finally making a pinned post, hope I do this right

my name is Simon, you can call me that or skibasyndrome or any variation of either that you can think of

25-y/o university student with a passion for literature and languages and everything surrounding that (hmu, I will talk about it for hours)

me and tumblr go way back (like... 2012 way back), but it's only through my very recent discovery of Young Royals (August 2023) that I decided to get back into online fan spaces after a long break (best decision ever btw)

I'm gay and a trans man

I mostly just write fics (or talk about writing)

Feel free to reach out and talk to me about anything and everything, I love talking to people :)

things to note about this blog

I will simp about Omar Rudberg. Sorry, I'm just too gay for whatever it is he is doing 24/7

there's almost always a party in my tags because that's where I go to voice my opinions or just be... emotionally affected by things

hope you like Young Royals, because there's rarely anything else on here these days

personal posts are tagged "simon.out."

should go without saying but fuck right off with any -isms or -phobias

See my Young Royals fics below the cut (or at skibasyndrome on ao3)

It seems a place for us to dream (T, 1.8 k)

Or: The things going through Wilhelm's head during that S3 snippet.

You crave the Applause / Yet hate the Attention (E, chaptered, 4/4, 22.3 k)

Or: How Wilhelm realizes that maybe, if you squint a little, he might have a praise kink.

But I'm a vampire smile, you'll meet a sticky end (E, 4.1 k)

Or: Simon's vampire-esque makeup is really doing things to Wilhelm that he didn't expect. A Halloween fic.

In This Together (T, 3.5 k)

Or: Wilhelm tries — and fails — to surprise Simon with hot chocolate. Simon doesn't mind. Contribution to Wilmon Secret Santa 2023.

It's in the water, baby (E, 4.9 k)

Or: A sweet and spicy story sponsored by the infamous Lake Still (TM) s3 promo pic.

Never Letting You Go (E, 5.7 k)

Or: The infamous Hallway Smut (TM) Scene as briefly seen in the S3 trailer and (re)imagined by me. There's light angst, sex, and so many feelings.

Lavender Haze (E, 13.3 k)

Or: Wilhelm spots the most gorgeous man in a nightclub. He's wearing a lavender shirt that makes Wilhelm's head spin and imagination run wild. And a smile that does things to his heart he's not quite sure what to make of yet.

All this shit is new to me (E, chaptered, 3/?, 24 k)

Or: After meeting and hooking up with Simon at a club, Wille needs to figure out what exactly that means for them (or whether there even is a "them" to figure out). A sequel to Lavender Haze.

Wille's Month 2024:

Day 1 (Sandwich): Vegan butter, two slices of Gouda, a few slices of cucumber (G, 1.6 k) Day 8 (Wedding/Engagement): Roots of Love (T, 1.2 k) Day 9 (Riding): Close, Closer (E, 1.3 k) Day 25 (Hands): Got my Hands all over You (E, 7.1 k)

Simon's Month 2024:

Day 2 (Food): I could eat that boy for lunch (M, 7.9 k) (co-written with @iwouldnevergetintofanfic & @pagegirlintraining) Day 14 (Senses): Kyss mig med dinä röda läppar (or, affectionately: the cherry fic) (T, 3.4 k)

Flash The Camera, You're A Star! (T, 10.1 k) (co-written with @pagegirlintraining)

Or: the one where Wille is an even bigger simp than usual and Simon can’t quite stay mad at him.

(ca.)-5-sentence-ficlets

Or: people send me a sentence, I write 5 or more sentences to turn it into a ficlet. wild variety of stories ranging from dark to fluffy to (slightly) steamy (always open for these types of prompts, "series" ongoing)

YR Kinktober 2024 (Masterpost here)

(ongoing series) Day 1: Sit back and watch (I'm gonna dance for you) (masturbation & spit) Day 2: Sharpen your teeth, sink into me (marks & biting) Day 3: In silence, I'm yours (sound/staying quiet, hands & 69) Day 4: Love the shape of your mouth (and the back of your head) (makeup, praise kink, oral sex, deepthroating and light dacryphilia) Day 5: I've never met arms like yours (cockwarming & spooning) Day 6: And the mirrors gon' fog tonight (mirror, hands, a little bit of praise) Day 7: One, two, three (Not only you and me) (threesome, first time [having a threesome], lapdance) Day 8: Body language say you wanna (semi-public sex, cruising, roleplay) Day 9: On the tip of my tongue, on the top of your thighs (1/2) (wax play, thighs, marks) Day 10: And if I searched a thousand miles I'd be dying to find (2/2) (intercrural sex, thighs, marks, oral sex) Day 11: My skin on your skin, again and again (frottage, cum play, fingers) Day 12: In the back of your car there's a big black mark (where I ripped the seat) (car sex, riding, a little breathplay/choking) Day 13: Find a brand new way of seeing (Your eyes forever glued to mine) (1/2)

Like we're dancing (you and me) (T, 3.1 k)

Or: Wille is nervous to meet her parents for dinner. Simon is there for her.

Birthday Boys (T, 14.1 k) (co-written with @iwouldnevergetintofanfic)

Or: best friends Simon and Wille share a birthday. On their twentieth birthday - their first birthday apart in years - some realizations happen.

Now we're falling like snow (E, 7.8 k) (see header here)

Or: The first heavy snow of the season - what a great opportunity for a slow morning and keeping each other warm

[forthencho-pacino]

i think Bungie, and by extension, Sony, should acquire Halo

Look, i've been an xbox stan my whole life. never got into console wars as such, but just preferred xbox, mainly because Halo. it practically held my hand and led me into the world of obscure sci-fi and sci-tech. and i heckin love the franchise. the lore, the games, ｓｏｍｅ of the media (didact damn thee, new tv series). and its because i love it that i think the franchise has a foot in the grave rn. we've seen so many people leave, so much hype gone to shit, so much of the player base just...gone.

i'm not gonna say that keeping this kind of a storyline going is easy. shit, i take a week to think up a half-decent daydream scenario. but after so much time, money, and manpower, the state of the franchise really should've been better than what it is. i'm pretty sure its just MCC and HW thats keeping it as alive as it is right now.

plus, i don't really think that microsoft acquiring activision is a good sign, either. this is a studio that has a history of stifling worldbuilding and employee freedom to get its games. heck, Bungie left activision to continue building Destiny 2, with one of the main reasons of the split being ''creative differences''.

game-wise, Halo was in its golden days with Bungie. i'm pretty sure all OG Halo players remember the Bungie opening to CE, their last message post Reach, and overall just how good the game was with them. agreed, the lore might have suffered a bit, but look at Destiny. its one of the most lore rich worlds that we have right now. so, clearly, they've gotten good with the worldbuilding.

HI might've had a good launch, but that was basically because of 2 things:

hey, its a new Halo game, ｌｅｚｚｇｏｏｏ

it takes place on one of the most important locations in the Halo-verse, Zeta

we've literally seen Bungie's rise to fame, as heckin Beyond Light became the console launch, not HI. i don't think i can comment on the player bases, because D2 is available on more platforms, but if you do a comparison of only Steam and xbox player bases of HI and D2, i'm pretty sure D2 will come on top (not gonna bring MCC into this because that's not something that was purely 343 and microsoft).

part of Halo's charm might be the platform exclusivity, but i'm pretty sure that the exclusivity doesn't count for shit if the franchise is practically dead. which honestly looks like a near future event for Halo. HI failed to deliver on multiple fronts, the TV series was practically a MAC shot into the franchise, and all the creative leads for the game leaving microsoft doesn't leave a lot of room for hope.

bungie taking their baby back has some chunky potential to boost the game back up. bungie gets something to work on after D2: Final Shape, Halo, comes into the arms of a team that has been doing pretty well in terms of game maintenance, story writing (ik Lightfall kinda sucked, but lets be honest, the general trend is still in Bungie's favour), and overall upkeep. not only that, the game gets access to an even bigger player base. and i'm pretty sure the worst case won't be all that different from what it already is.

a metric shit ton of people love the franchise, and i really think that most of us won't really mind Halo losing its ''Xbox exclusive'' tag, if it means the saga enters another golden age, which is something we all want to see.

[dragonleighs]

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

I haven't actually been tagged by anyone but I saw @bereft-of-frogs give it a go and thought what the hell, why not (I hope you don't mind me tagging you 💜). I also don't have anyone in mind to tag but if you see this feel free to tag me (or not) and give it a go yourself!

Words and Fics

192,428 words posted according to ao3 but at least 90k of that has been carried over from previous years.

Broadly speaking, I've written for two fandoms. The Witcher (Netflix series and Blood Origin) and Jedi Fallen Order/Survivor.

14 fics posted, but again two of those were started in 2022 and another in 2020, all three finished in the beginning of this year.

13/14 of the fics posted/updated this year are finished, one started but on hiatus while my current jfo WIP continues to consume my brain.

Speaking of, said WIP is curently sitting at 132k and only has two or three chapters left before I can start editing.

most recent fic: It's only slaughter, we're only liars (jfo)

longest: that would be A Quest for your Memories (the Witcher), the fic that was haunting me from March 2020. Originally supposed to be a one shot, it ended up being 51,734 words long.

shortest: Echoes (blood origin, 1,118)

Top Fics by Kudos

A Quest for your Memories (794)

I'd Burn So Bright It Blinded (623)

What's The Point (440)

If You Ask Me For My Fire (299)

After The Blood Comes The River (211)

Unsurprisingly they're all witcher fics since it's a much much bigger fandom than jfo/s

Gonna give some love to my personal faves since the Jedi ones can't compete:

It's only slaughter, we're only liars

No more time for my loss

Touchdown

My fandom fic events in 2023

Whumptober which took up a lot of September but was a lot of fun. I enjoyed coming into it with a new fandom since I didn't bother last year.

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

My priority at the moment is to finish my current WIP and then start editing it. While I'm doing that I might try to finish off some of my older fics that have been left hanging.

After that I've already got a whole two part thing planned out that will hopefully be a litte shorter that I'm really looking forward to getting to. Beyond that, I don't know. I'll continue to tie up loose ends (there's a lot of them) or I'll keep writing new stuff. Either way, I don't see me stopping any time soon.

I've had a lot of fun writing this year, though for a couple of months I was worried I was running out of inspiration (mostly because my then current hyperfixation was waning). But then Jedi survivor came along and I've been hooked ever since. I didn't used to think I was capable of writing long fics but between finishing a couple of 50k's and now having such a long WIP I can see I was just being silly. "Do it scared" is good advice.

Happy new year!!

Rules & Tags* below the cut!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

*I usually do stuff like this on my sideblog but that's not where my main focus is any more and idk how many people know about my main. Hence why I don't want to start tagging fandom people. Also idk many people in the jfo/s fandom or who has already done it.

So no tags becasue I'm too shy basically and I don't see that changing any time soon sadly. I love being tagged, I'm just bad at reaching out first...

[apompkwrites]

the outland kingscholar || leona kingscholar

masterlist characters: n/a (reader-centric) genre: fluff(?) contains: more ocs, sort of a transition for the fic ig?, still tagged w/ leona because fic :D summary: with their identity now discovered, (name) is shown a glimpse of the villagers in mwezi miji. notes: finally i get to use the other two boys i've had prepared for this series!! anyway, probably gonna get around to officially drawing them if insp stays? anyway, expect a bit more oc content for the fic just because i have plans >:) parts: [og post] | [the lesser kingscholar (1)] | [the broken kingscholar (2)] | [the two kingscholars (2.5)] | [the runaway kingscholar (3)] | [the outland kingscholar (4)] | [the grown-up kingscholar (5)]

the moment that question left atiena's mouth, a chill ran down your spine. you were hoping, praying, that she wouldn't know. that no one would know. and yet here you were, alone in a dark room with no one but a stranger that knew who you were.

"i... uh... i don't--"

"no use trying to hide it," atiena chuckled, shaking her head. she leaned back in her chair and her wings spread out behind her, making her seem bigger than she was. "you're a lion beastman."

"so?" why did you say it like that? oh, great seven, have mercy...

"let's see..." atiena hummed, bringing her hand up to her chin. "to start with, you weren't from the dens. that much was obvious when my son had to explain the very concept to you."

you pursed your lips.

"and so that only left the kingscholar territory. because gods know that the others in the outlands wouldn't let in a lion beastman," she continued.

"but... how did you know i was a kingscholar?" you managed to mutter, your body beginning to tremble at the mere thought of what could happen.

will she send me back?

"i wouldn't have thought you were a kingscholar at first," atiena explained before standing up. she walked over to the wall and reached up, grabbing a paper that was hanging on a corkboard covered in other sheets. she sat back down in her chair and placed the poster on the table.

missing: prince/ss (name) kingscholar

"...ah."

"we don't normally get knews from the kingscholar territory, but the king seemed adamant on getting these out," she mused, her smile no longer seeming to reach her eyes. "they're worried about you. as a mother, i can tell just from this poster alone."

"...how?" you hissed, crossing your arms in a huff.

"...now i can't say for certain, but i think of it that way because of fast it got to us out here," atiena mutters, leaning forward. "see, on the rare occasion we do get news from the kingdom, it's usually already outdated. but this?" she taps the poster. "this is recent news."

"...because i'm a royal," you rolled your eyes, ignoring the twisting and clenching in your chest. "that's why."

"...maybe," atiena merely shrugs. "back to the topic, why are you out here?"

you don't know what compelled you to answer. perhaps it was a weird game the king of beasts was playing. or perhaps it was simply just a cruel twist of fate. but, in the end, it didn't matter what caused it.

"i ran away."

"well, i gathered that much, little cub," atiena laughed, this time a real, genuine laugh. "i asked why."

"...the people in the castle are... cruel."

and, as if atiena knew the true life you lived, she didn't push any further. she simply nodded and stood up, leaving you alone in the interrogation room with nothing but the poster with your name and face plastered on it.

it wasn't until light flooded the room that you tore your eyes away from the poster. you turned in your chair to see atiena, her head peeking through the doorway and her wings casting a large shadow inside.

"come on, little cub," she hummed, waving her hand. you lingered in the chair for a moment.

i don't want to go. what if she sends me back? what if... the elders are out there?

"don't keep us waiting," atiena smiled softly. her voice wasn't full of malice or annoyance, but rather understanding. "else nuru'll come running to drag you out."

and, once more, the door closed, leaving you in the dark with the poster. that dreaded poster.

r--iiiiiip

"there they are," atiena mused, her wings flapping behind her gently. nuru, who was previously running around, skidded to a halt and changed course towards you.

"finally! took ya' long enough!" nuru laughed as if he were greeting a lifelong friend. "c'mon, c'mon, c'mon!"

"huh, i... uh..." you stammered as nuru dragged you by the arm. you looked over their shoulder at atiena, who merely smiled and waved her hand as if bidding her children adieu. with no help from atiena, you turned your attention back to nuru, who continued to run through the village with you in tow. "where are we going?!"

"ma says you're gonna stay with us for now!" nuru beamed. with his back now turned to them, you could see little white wings poking out from his shirt. "ya gotta meet my friends!"

you didn't get another word out before nuru stopped. you bumped into his back as he knocked on the door in front of him.

"jabali! jabori!" he called, his small wings moving excitedly on his back. "open the door!"

"no!" another squeaky voice shouted from inside the house.

"wha-- why not?!" nuru huffed, crossing his arms. his wings now flipping on his back.

"didn't you hear? your mom brought an outsider here," the same voice whined.

"shush!" nuru hissed, his grip tightening on your arm. "jus' open the door, jabori!"

"what?!" the door finally slammed open. twins stood on the other side, one sporting a scowl while the other seemed to cower behind him.

freckles dusted their faces and shoulders, the speckles just barely visible on their dark skin. their brown hair was tipped with light cream, the curls nearly mixing with the dark brown ears that twitched on their heads. sa if in response to each other, your ears twitched a second before the twins' did.

"that's the outsider!" the second twin, the one that opened the door, growled. he leaned closer to nuru and whispered (still loud enough for you to hear), "what are you doing bringing them over here?!"

"'s fine," nuru grinned before pulling you forward. he motioned up and introduced, "they're from kingscholar territory! so 's not like they're a den dweller or anythin'."

"still!" the first twin whined, shuffling closer to his brother. "we don't know... anything about them, ru!"

"i'm right here," you finally grumbled, pulling your arm out of nuru's grasp. "at least tell me to go away if you're gonna talk about me."

just like them.

"then get outta here," the second twin huffed, waving his hand.

"no! they're stayin'!" nuru demanded, reaching back to grab onto you once more. "look, they're nice! ma said so!"

"did she?" the three children questioned in unison.

"mhm! mhm! she said to get them used to the village!" nuru grinned, turning to look over at you. "sorry about them! they're... really my only friends i trust."

"aw," the first twin smiled, only to be elbowed by his brother.

"look," the second twin sighed, "if... if you want us to get along, come back in the morning. it's, like, the end of your mom's shift, right? so it's like two in the morning or somethin' like that."

"...ah," nuru laughed nervously before nodding. "'s a promise, 'kay?"

"mhm," the twins hummed almost absentmindedly. and without a proper goodbye, they shut the door.

"that went well!" nuru grinned, prompting you to roll your eyes. you didn't say anything and nuru didn't seem to mind. all he did was hum to himself as he grabbed you by the hand, dragging you back the way you came through the cold, quiet streets of mwezi miji.

taglist: @brokenncrown @help-meplz @destinationdesignation @rainys-personal-garden @kalims @sxftiebee @luxaryllis @auld-a @the-dumber-scaramouche @ayra2452008 @tinywho-man @minteaspoon @kitty-chan33 @hornehlittleweeblet2 @letskeepitsimpleshallwe @atsuki-mitsuri @catgirlwannabe @miss-puregotti @havens-not-here @valka-230 @sacrificialwife1 @cherrykissesss890

[honeystwiggypeach]

Eddie and reader being called by the principal because his daughter got into a fight and when they get to school they realize that the fight was with Steve's son (it could be that Steve's son cut a part of her ponytail and she threw bottle of glue in his hair as revenge)

Just gonna try to send all the things that came to my mind everytime I think about them with kids 😭

Bestie I love this request so much!! Also pls do I literally love writing requests like i think I go feral when I get requests so pls send them also because they’re my favorites to write with kids and babies!(if you guys want me to write anything that’s not a part of a series pls specify bcs I’m just using these for my series😭)

Dad!Eddie x Mom!reader

dad!eddie masterlist!!

Tw- cursing, cutting hair?

Lucy was probably in third grade ish, by this point you and Eddie had taught her that if anyone ever fucked with her it was fine to rough them up a bit, with her going to school in Hawkins with lots of younger siblings and kids to the people who bullied you and Eddie in high school you expected it to be worse.

Today you’d put in two little pink bows on her curly little pigtails and she loves it so much.

Unfortunately for Lucille, Steve’s son did not like it so much.

Jack was in a pissy mood. Lydia had squashed his pet walking stick this morning and though she had apologized that didn’t change the fact that he’d have to look for another one, and poor Lucy had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time sat infront of him during their inside recess.

He’d reached into his bag moving slowly so she couldn’t see when he quickly snipped off a curl or two.

She wanted to cry and throw a tantrum when she’d turned around to notice her neighbor sitting there with one of her precious curls in his hand staring back up at her as he processes what he’d just done.

But before he can do that she’s yanked the scissors and cut an even bigger chunk from his hair.

Well that was right before they’d gotten into trouble.

Lucille is sat in the principals office pouting with her arms crossed over her chest as she waits for her parents to get here.

“Lucy?” You gasp looking at the missing chunk of hair that was so clearly visible.

You were hoping it wasn’t bad but when you’d snapped the small rubber bands both you and Eddie’s eyes widened, right across her forehead she was left with curly little bangs and seeing your faces just made her want to cry was it that bad?

But when you’d both seen Jacks new hair cut you decided maybe hers wasn’t so bad…

After a horribly long conversation with the principal you’d finally gone home and Lucille wanted to sob when Davie asked what happened to her hair.

You sat her down beside Eddie showing her how you trimmed her dads hair before she agreed to let you trim the bags properly and just settle for a hairstyle like her dad’s.

Let me know if there’s anything else you want to see because I love writing requests so much!!

Tags~ @miracleboysel @jessyballet @reticent-writer @bubbledtee @marishortcake @marrigold-2002 @griffinfinity @jvmisvu @eddiemunsonsfavbitch @ruinedbythehobbit @k-k0129 @lacunaanonymoused

[holycrimin]

It hurts to love.

Karl heisenberg x male!reader

Tags: Hanahaki and angst

SFW

(Note: In this au, none of the main events happen with ethan, as he is not in this story. Also SPOILER WARNING.)

(Warning: probably shitty plot, but i'm trying my best ok)

[Your pov]

It all started a year or two ago, when mother miranda had found me lurking around the village. As i was not a local, she deemed me suspicous. However, before she had the chance to kill me, She had a spark in her eye. As if she had an idea. And before i knew it she was using me as some sort of vessel for her daughter, Eva. Although i am a male, she had seen something special in me apparently. I had also found out that her daughter had passed away and she was determined to bring her back.

It failed.

The experiment... failed.

I was no longer deemed useful.

She had proposed me two options. become a servant or assistant to one of the lords, or die. A slow, and painful death.

Of course I chose to be an assistant.

She was kind enough to let me choose who to work for, thankfully.

Lady dimitrescu was very much intimidating. And from what I've heard, if you mess up even just a little while working for her, you will be sent to the dungeons. Never to be seen again. And she isnt really fond of men, so I wont be choosing her.

Next up was Donna Beneviento. She was nice, although her doll 'Angie' is a little... how do I say this... creepy. It doesnt help that i have a huge fear of mannequins and dolls, so I dont think i'll be choosing her anytime soon.

And then theres Salvatore Moreau, dont get me wrong he's a great guy but.. he might accidentally drown me. I might be overreacting, but the guy smells. Although, I feel bad that he's treated so poorly by the other Lords, but i think it's for the best if i stay away from him.

And.. i guess my only option left is Lord Heisenberg. I just hope that he wont be that much of a hassle, even if he IS kind of an asshole...

A day before i start working at the factory, Mother Miranda forced us to spend the day together. To 'get to know eachother' I assume.

Lord Heisenberg looked pissed off, he wasn't really fond of me. He was more pissed off at Mother miranda though. Most likely because he was forced to spend time with me. I quickly learned what he called the 'basics of him'. Basically, common facts. Such as, the fact that he can bend metal and his deep hatred for Mother Miranda. that was basically all that he told me.

The following day was my first day at the factory. As we were walking along the factory, he stopped in his tracks. "Listen pup, there's rules." He practically growled. "First of all, Don't touch my shit. Second of all, don't go around the factory without me knowing. And third of all, Don't try to get to know me, we're keeping a proffessional relationship, got it?" He said.

"Uh.. y-yes Lord Heisenberg." I very nervously stammered, lightly blushing at the nickname he gave me.

"Good, now let's get to work."

Present day

That was around a year or two ago, and while i have gotten closer to the other lords, i never managed to get to get close to Lord Heisenberg. And..

I'm an idiot who fell for him... And... I know he'll never feel the same way. I've tried getting his attention, impressing him, but... nothing's working. Every time i try to get close to him, wether it's emotionally or physically. I get pushed away, literally and figuratively.

It's my fault really. I fell inlove with a man who was emotionally closed off. His charisma, his voice, everything about him just makes me fall more and more inlove with him.

I know i wont have a chance, hell, i dont even know if he's into guys... Guess i really am an idiot, huh?

Later that day, Lord Heisenberg asked me to help him with something. I agreed of course, and during that time I tried to know him more. "Jesus christ, are you trying to get me to open up or something? Cause' that's not gonna happen, so give it up." He spat out, "a-ah... sorry Lord Heisenberg.." I stammered out.

A few minutes of silence pass. Suddenly, he grabbed my hands. "I- ugh.. Just- you're doing it wrong. Here, let me help." He said, while holding my hands 'teaching me how to do it right'.

Of course my face started heating up, the feeling of his slightly roughed up hands on mine... it feels nice. Although this is probably the only time i'll ever get close to him.

"Hey pet, you ok? Geez, you're practically as red as a tomato." He said, while still holding my hands. "Uh.. y-yeah..! Uhm... i.. i'm good.." i stuttered, feeling his breath on top of my head. He was bigger and taller than me after all.

"Well, whatever you say, pup." He shrugged as he continued his work. I got a little flustered on the nickname, i never got used to that..

After, he went and ordered me to get supplies fron the duke.

As i was walking along the pathway to the duke, a few lycans were following me. They didnt seem to be attacking, so i just left them alone. However when i reached the duke, the lycans were gone. How strange.

"Well well well, if it isn't Heisenbergs pet! What brings you here, young man?" He says, with a shit eating grin. "Ah.. well, i'm just here for some supplies is al-" i was then cut off with a series of coughs, "Oh my, are you alright?" said the duke, genuinely concerned. "O-oh i'm fine i ju-" i was then cut off by another series of coughs, but just when i stopped, a small white flower petal came out of my mouth.

"Oh dear, i hope this isn't what i think it is... Are you sure you are alright?" Asked the duke. "I.. i dont know," i pause and look at the small flower petal in my hand. "do you know what's happening..?" I questioned him, very much confused. "It may be something called the 'Hanahaki disease'. It was said to just be an urban legend. Where, if you were suffering from unrequited love, you would begin to cough up flower petals." He explained. "I didnt think it was real.." he muttered to himself.

"..." i was silent as i stared in shock and horror, I'm.. coughing up flowers..? Like actual, real flowers...?

From.. unrequited love.... i should've known, i... i should've known that he would never feel the same way.

How could i be so stupid, to think he would fall for a mere mortal like me. Or atleast.. i think i'm mortal. "Well," the duke spoke up, "luckily there are two ways you can get rid of the sickness." My eyes lit up, "the person you like, either loves you back," he continued "or, you can get surgery. Not only will it remove the flowers, it also removes all of your feelings for this particullar person permanently."

"Th-that's great! I can finally get this 'hanahaki' disease while also getting rid of my feelings for him-!"

"Him?" The duke asked as he cut me off, "do you mean Lord Heisenberg?"

"Uh-" as i think about him, i start coughing again. This time, blood was spilling over. And so were many petals. "Oh dear.. so just the mere thought of him triggers it..?" He said, concerned. "Uh... i'll just... take the supplies. Thank you though, duke."

"No problem, stay safe. But remember, the longer you wait around with the flowers still inside you, the worse your state will become." He informs me,

"I'll try to get the surgery as fast as possible duke." I said, waving him goodbye.

As soon as i walked out, those same lycans followed me all the way back to the factory. Strange isn't it? Anyway, when you finally arrived at the factory, supplies in hand, I hear Lord Heisenberg open up the door.

"Here, let me help you with those." He says as he starts taking some of the bags.

"...Why are you being so nice all of a su-sudden?" I stammer as i try to hold in a cough. "Would you rather not have me nice, pup?" he growled. As i opened my mouth to speak, i was interrupted but a fit of coughs. Blood spilt out as did the petals. Heisenberg didn't seem to notice as he was already far ahead.

I try to cover it up as much as i can as i try to catch up with him. "Jeez.. Finally, you caught up-" he cut himself off. "Why is there blood on your face?" He said, slightly concerned. I froze. "Uh.." that was all i could say. "Whatever.." he said as he wiped the blood away from my face. A faint blush spread accross my cheeks.

I excused myself to the bathroom as i felt another fit of coughs. More blood splattered out as well as more petals. God it hurts. I heard a knock on the door. "Hey pet, you've been there a while, you sure you're alright?" He said

"Uh- yeah, i-i'm fine..!" I said, trying to hold in my coughs. "Well just make it quick, we have work to do." "Yes sir..!" I reply back quickly, not wanting to upset him. I quickly cleaned myself up and walked out of the bathroom. "Took you long enough." He sighed, annoyed. He went ahead and grabbed his hammer, dragging it along the metal floors. It was loud enough for him to not hear you cough up more petals.

~later that week~

My condition kept getting worse and worse, to the point i was barely able to breath. I've consulted the duke, however nothing seemed to work. No matter how much medicine, herbs or other medicinal items i jammed into my body, it just won't go away.

I was asked to come over Lady Dimitrescus castle, i'm not exactly sure why. Maybe she heard of this 'hanahaki' disease?

As i make my way to the castle, lycans started to follow me. Even more than before, why was this happening?

I finally arrive at the castle, the lycans seem to be watching me very carefully. I hear the doors open, and out came a tall lady. "Ah, Y/N! I'm glad you came! Come in." She said, holding the door open for me.

I walked in and was immediately tackled with a hug. "Uncle Y/N! You came!" Exclamed Daniela, one of Lady Dimitrescus daughters. "Oh, uh... hello Daniela." I say, hugging back. I never imagined them to warm up to me. "Now now Daniela, me and your Uncle Y/N have something to discuss."

"Aww man... well, i'll see you around Uncle Y/N!" She waved goodbye to me. "I'll see you around, Daniela." I say as i wave back. As soon as her footsteps were no longer in range, i spoke up. "So.. what did you want to talk about..?" I carefully asked the tall woman, not wanting to be sliced to bits. "Well, as i said before, the duke has informed me of something related to your wellbeing."

"So... you've heard about this.. 'hanahaki' disease, i assume...?" I say as i tense up even more. "The duke told me about it, and when i asked why he was informing me about this, he simply stated it had something to do with you. So tell me, do you have it?" She asked me with a concerned expression.

"W-well.. I-.." i say, sighing. "Yes, as far as i know." I reply, not wanting to lie to her. "As much as i dislike that wretched man, Heisenberg, i must ask, is he the object of your affection?" I froze. "Well... uh-" i cut myself off as i break into a fit of coughs growing more and more violent than the last. "Oh dear- MAIDS!" She called out, panicking, as blood and petals fall out of my mouth. She patted my back as i continue to cough. "So... it is Heisenberg.. I am terribly sorry Y/N i did not know this would happen.." she said, apologetically.

"I-it's alright-" i break into another fit of coughs. But instead of petals, this time, there were fully grown flowers. "i.. i can't b-breath.." i say almost blacking out. The last thing i see and hear are the maids, Lady Dimitrescu shouting to get the duke, and the door opening to reveal... Lord Heisenberg..? "Goddammit, out of my way-!" Was the last thing i heard before blacking out.

•

•

°

.

.....

I woke up to the duke. I sat upright, "what... happ-" i was then cut off by the duke. "You're awake! Honestly, i.. didnt know if you would wake up.." he said sadly. "Thankfully, i was able to patch you up just fine. And after days and hours of research, i finally found an alternative to your hanahaki!" The duke said, switching from a sad, to a cheerful mood.

My eyes light up, "W-wait, really!?" I said as a smile creeps up on my face. The duke gives me a small bottle, "Here, take this. Free of charge!" He said as he smiles brightly. "Now, you should drink it as soon as possible. Lord Heisenberg is waiting for you outside."

"I will, thank you duke!" I said as i waved him goodbye. As I walked to the gates, I take the small bottle and drink it. Within seconds, the flowers were gone. I could finally breath again!

Walking out with a small smile, I saw Lord Heisenberg. "Oh, hey-!.. uh.. i mean, hey. You're awake, lets... get back to the factory..." he stammered out.

..

Was it just me, or were there tears on his face..?

The walk to the factory was silent, but as we walk up to the factory gates, he stops dead in his tracks. "Before we go in, I just uh.. wanted to let you know that the duke let me know about how you really felt about me." He said. "And.. after a long time of thinking about it.." he cuts himself off as his cheeks turn red,

"...I like you too." He confesses.

But,

I don't feel any different.

I don't have butterflies in my stomach.

I don't even feel my face heating up.

It was like...

I was never inlove with him in the first place.

"I... I'm sorry, Lord Heisenberg... but.. I dont feel the same way anymore. I think... it was that small bottle the duke gave me, but.. I am sorry, i don't feel the same way." "W-wait.. you're.. you're joking, right...?" I watch as his expression goes from flustered to heartbreak. "..." i grow silent.

"Let's... let's get inside... we'll catch a cold if we don't." I say, opening the doors to the factory, not wanting the situation to get more awkward. "...Y... yeah... just, gimme a minute.." he says as his voice was slightly shaking. "Alright.. just... please be quick, you'll get a cold." I said, walking in and closing the door on him.

[Heisenbergs pov]

"I... I'm sorry, Lord Heisenberg... but.. I dont feel the same way anymore. I think... it was that small bottle the duke gave me, but.. I am sorry, i don't feel the same way."

"W-wait.. you're.. you're joking, right...?" I say with my voice slightly shaking. Dammit.. god... fucking...

DAMMIT...!

Just when i thought i finally found the love of my life, he's stripped away from me.

"..." he was silent.

I could feel the heartbreak slowly filling me up.

"Let's... let's get inside... we'll catch a cold if we don't."

"...Y... yeah... just, gimme a minute.." i stammer while i try not to break down infront of him.

"Alright.. just... please be quick, you'll get a cold." He says, as he walks in and shuts the door. Heh.. it's cute how he still worries about me when..

Nevermind.

I need some time to thi-

My thoughts were interrupted when i started to violently cough. What i didn't expect though...

Was a flower petal.

"..."

"Heh..."

"So this is what he felt." I said, as i look at the bloody flower petal in my hand.