#I say a lot but the best thing you can do for yourself is let go of the idea of universal fairness/standard of good as judged by others

[hikidoll]

୨ৎ ˚ 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!

satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, yuji itadori

୨ৎ satoru gojo

accidentally makes you cry like.. way too often.. usually because he’ll make a joke and you take the wrong way.

dont worry- he makes up for it in full.

while he isn’t the best at providing comfort through words. he’ll apologize through expensive gifts, or taking you out for a date at a nice restaurant.

“listen- i’m sorry baby. i didn’t mean it like that, i swear..” he says frantically as mascara streams down your face.

he’ll wrap you up in a big hug, pulling you flush against his chest. “it’s okay, baby. you know i love you, right?”

of course, he tells his best wingman. geto facepalms, “that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble, satoru.” he mutters, the second-hand embarrassment evident in the way his nose scrunches as he cringes.

if someone else says something that hurts you, you best bet that if you tell gojo, they’ll regret it. gojo can be rather petty and vindictive when it comes to defending his sweet girl.

“i joke around a lot, but i’m serious about you, okay? promise.”

୨ৎ suguru geto

he has a natural calmness that helps keep you grounded when you start to get overwhelmed.

if you’re feeling overstimulated that day, he’ll run you a bath, cook you dinner, anything he can do to make you feel less overwhelmed and at peace. “let me handle it, okay?” he murmurs softly, before gently ushering you back into bed.

if anyone ever pokes fun at your sensitivity, he’ll be the first to remind you that’s what makes you special.

“don’t listen to people like that. they don’t know you like i do, doll.”

he’s always looking out for you, making sure people don’t take advantage of your kind nature.

if you needed it, he could listen to you for hours.

“never apologize for feeling. it’s what makes you human… and what makes you so easy to love.” he whispers, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb.

୨ৎ megumi fushiguro

he may not be the best at communicating or expressing his own emotions, but he is surprisingly empathetic. most of the time he can tell something’s wrong before you say it.

he’d die before breaking a promise to you.

he knows loud environments can be overwhelming for you sometimes, and he feels the same as well. you two often leave functions early together, retreating to the quiet of his apartment.

he keeps note of things that cheer you up, like cute stuffed animals, or your favorite snacks. if he knows you’re feeling extra sensitive, he’ll stop by and drop you off some comfort items.

“no, you’re not too sensitive.” he murmurs, gently rubbing your back as you sob next to him. “did someone tell you that? who was it?” he asks, his expression turning more serious.

regardless of how much of a crybaby you are, he finds it endearing how you express yourself freely, something he’s always envied about you.

“you’re stronger than anyone i know, okay? don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

୨ৎ yuji itadori

he’s a master at cheering you up. he always knows the right joke to crack to make you smile, the right things to do to get you back into a good mood.

he’s not afraid to make an absolute fool of himself if it means he can make you laugh.

“let’s head home, yeah? i’ve got a tub of ice cream waiting for us in the freezer!” he says with a cheerful smile, patting you gently on the back as he tries to race you back to the car.

he’s your biggest cheerleader, always hyping you up whenever you feel insecure.

he gives the best hugs ever.

if someone upsets you, he is quick to defend you. he’s not usually confrontational, but if it’s about you, he’ll stand his ground. “hey, that’s not okay dude. apologize.”

“too much for me? hun, nothing is too much for me. especially not you, sweet girl.” he says softly with a small smile, before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

he always talks about you to his friends, singing your praises like you’re his queen. “she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. really.”

my four favorite boys!!! things keep pouring out of my brain help. hope you like it hehe :3

©hikidoll inc. do not copy.

[lynzishell]

Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

MARCH

Megan: How did your appointment go? Asher: Good. It was just a consultation, but she walked us through the whole process and let us know what to expect and everything.

Megan: So, what’s next? Atlas: I go back next week for a physical. Blood work, sperm sample, the whole nine. Megan: Okay, great. I assume they’ll do some genetic testing, but are you aware of any medical issues that run in your family?

Atlas: [shrugs] Dawn inherited a disorder from our mom that affects fertility, but I don’t think that’s something that could affect me. Otherwise, I don’t really know. That’s the hard part about not being in touch with our family. I can’t exactly call them up and ask about their medical history.

Megan: You don’t think it’s worth trying? Atlas: [shakes his head] Megan: Okay.

Asher: Dr. Reede also said they have an agency they use for matching couples with a surrogate, and we can make like a video and a profile and all that if we want. Megan: Is that the direction you want to go? Asher: I think we’d prefer someone we know, but that has its own complications. And I’m not sure if anyone would be willing or able to do this for us. So, it’s best to keep all options open at this point.

Megan: Makes sense. Do you have anyone in mind that you’d ask? Atlas: [shrugs] Asher: We haven’t really talked about it yet.

…

Lex: Please don’t ask me. I’d feel like shit telling you no. Asher: Don’t worry, I know you well enough not to ask. Besides, you’re disqualified anyway. You have to have given birth at least once before they’ll let you be a surrogate.

Blair: Well shit, I was going to offer. Asher: You’re just saying that because you know you can’t now. Blair: That’s not true. I really would do it for you guys. Asher: Aw, well, that’s sweet, thank you.

Lex: So, who do you know that’s already had a baby? Atlas: Dawn, but she wouldn’t be able to. Lex: What about Iris? I’m sure she’s just waiting for you to ask her. Asher: [rolls his eyes] Absolutely not. I don’t need her getting in one of her moods and suddenly deciding she’s anything more than an aunt. Lex: Valid.

Atlas: Yeah, it’s going to be a lot more expensive, but I think we should contact the agency and see if they can match us with someone. Asher: It feels so weird, like some kind of bizarre dating service. Atlas: Right, like before there were apps and people would get VHS tapes and watch five-minute clips of people talking about themselves.

Lex: Was that really a thing? Atlas: It was! Blair: Would you ever submit a video clip for something like that? Atlas: Oh god no, I’d stay single.

Asher: I would! I’d do it just so I could watch everyone else’s. Lex: You’re such a shit. Asher: What? Curiosity. It’s not like I’d make fun of them or anything, I’m not a dick. And who knows, maybe I’d meet someone. You never know if you don’t try. Blair: That’s the only reason I ever sign up for apps. You never know who you might meet.

Lex: That’s true. Blair and I never would’ve met if I hadn’t decided on a whim to try speed-dating. Blair: See, Atlas, it’s all about putting yourself out there. Atlas: Luckily, I never have to deal with that shit again. I am married, in case you’ve forgotten. Blair: Oh yeah, you two really are into the whole monogamy thing, aren’t you?

Asher: A hundred percent. Blair: Fair enough. I’m getting hungry, are you staying for dinner? Asher: No, it’s Sunday. Lex: Oh yes, Dinner at Dawn’s. Atlas: Yeah, in fact we better get going.

[ughscara]

⠀⠀──── . + TO THE NEW AND BEYOND.

͏ જ⁀➴ the third dawn of each year was the same dawn that gifted the purple hues now inhabiting your life. and beneath those dawn-kissed clouds resides the individual who shone as bright as the moon, awaiting the rising sun to greet him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀── ꒰⁠ THE ECCENTRIC SQUAD ꒱⁠˖ truckload of fluff.

creation notes ꣑꣒ 3.1k words , kabukimono's segment is set in his series , kunikuzushi's and wanderer's are separate timelines , a bonus is added for fun because he ( who isn't kuronushi ) deserves a bit of attention too.

content warnings ꣑꣒ while this is largely fluff; there's a bit of hurt with comfort if you squint. all and all; there is nothing serious of note other than spoilers. the styling is a bit all over the place .. i wrote a lot of these on the brinck of passing out ( it's way past my bedtime as we speak ).

additional notes ꣑꣒ happy birthday wanderer, and happy belated birthday @kabumochi ᰔᩚ this is long overdue, but hope you like it nonetheless (^^

星. ( 839 words. )

kuronushi's manner of celebration is to let the day pass. it's not much in the grand scheme of things, honestly. writing, practicing for an upcoming performance, having tea... all in a day's work, and in his perspective; enough of a celebration. he's still here, is he not? that's something to commemorate.

of course, such a perspective changed when you unceremoniously invited yourself into the confines of his heart; as any other cliche love story goes. however, there was something regarding your method that struck a foreign cord within his ribcage — it couldn't be your enthusiasm, and it most certainly couldn't be because you had to.

the fifth kasan wasn't the best with kindred spirits such as yours, straying far beyond the realms of his comprehension to a degree that intrigues him rather than perplexes him. and to say that he woke up in the dead of night to feel nothing within his embrace wasn't a surprise. faint hums, the slow and steady steps; ensuring he's resting. “you never sit, do you...?” he mutters a tad groggily to himself with a slight, amused smile.

the reluctance to guide himself out of bed wasn't enough to overtake his desire in seeking your presence, taking a rather leisure time in making the journey to the kitchen, not letting out a sound as the shoji door slides open. and a softer smile adorns kuronushi's exhausted face in an instant upon spotting your familiar silhouette, too preoccupied with whisking the matcha powder for what one can only presume to be his favorite ‘sweet’ treat. not bothering to pay much mind to whatever you were making, he greets you with a loose embrace from behind, and his lips on the bridge of your neck and shoulder.

“songbird...” the endearment slips in a whisper against your skin, cold breath sending the slightest tingle down your spine. his voice was weighed with sleep just as his figure pressed against your own from behind was. “what's occupying you this late, hm?”

“care to guess?” you counter with a small smile, not as fazed by the sudden greeting. his heart is set aflutter seeing that smile of yours, as ever. “too early for this.” the almost instantaneous response earns him a slight chuckle out of you, a sound that soothes his drowsy soul. you abandon your preparations for the morning for now, directing your full and undivided attention to a loopy kuronushi.

little to no words were exchanged as you accommodate, turning yourself around to face him. that earlier inquiry hung in the air, and a gleam of excitement illustrated your gaze. such a sight only ignited his wonder further, trailing a hand to softly cradle your cheek and the other still securely yet loosely maintaining the proximity. he needn't voice his curiosity, for you already know.

“as you know, i couldn't sleep, so i figured i can make some early preparations. simply put,”

“happy birthday, 'nushi.”

you don't mince words nor give him a moment to prepare for such a simple, heartfelt wish. spoken with a smile. and the expression you fetch isn't a new one; the tinge of surprise adorning his gaze clashing with something you cannot make out. it doesn't take long for a smile to adorn his face, and soon enough; a subtle chuckle. as his fingers slowly trailed a path to the back of your head, gently combing through your locks. “sweetheart,” he utters, drowsy voice carried by that smile of his.

“couldn't you have waited until the morning to tell me this?” “surely you don't believe i can?”

a series of subtle chuckles follow suit this time, unable to resist feathering a lingering kiss to your forehead before adding more of his peace on the matter. “once you return to sleep, perhaps you can.” he muses while drawing himself away just about enough to meet your gaze. “we'll...” a pause. “...we'll take the day together.” you nearly beam at the prospect. “promise?”

kuronushi's manner of celebration is to let the day pass. but maybaps...

“i promise, songbird.” he whispers, pausing on threading through your hair to cradle your cheek once more. fondness painting the blank canvas of exhaustion that presently outlined every part of him. in a moment of weakness, he rests his forehead against yours, midnight locks grazing your skin. he cannot prevent his smile from returning upon feeling the light kiss to his lips, not hesitating to reciprocate before eventually withdrawing after a short moment.

“now,” you hummed, gazing at his tea set perched atop the wooden table from over your shoulder. “what'd you say to tidying this up then returning to bed?”

“not remarking about my ‘loopy’ state this time?” “thanks, but no thanks. it's too early for your own games.”

kuronushi didn't push his luck, merely allowing a breathy chuckle to roll off his lips before relenting to his desires again. after all,

“that aside... i would prefer that.”

he had a whole day ahead of him tomorrow. only you and him against a never ending mundanity.

太陽. ( 731 words. )

kabukimono never really knew the concept of birthdays. they weren't entirely foreign, but his knowledge maintained a fair distance from that very concept all the same. merely familiar with the name rather than the custom.

it didn't sprout in the back of his mind for a while until izumi brought it up to you in the midst of cooking a simple breakfast a month prior at the time, with the eccentric puppet listening in with keen curiosity. “isn't your birthday in a few days, (name)?” the little one asked while taking a sip of water. “mhm. on the third of december. why, are you hoping we spend it collecting melons again?” a soft smile adorned your face as you look over at your little brother, said smile softening upon seeing his silent affirmation while taking yet another sip of water.

a pair of curious eyes, however, never quit observing you. directing your attention back to your cooking buddy; kabukimono. “a birthday?” he inquires with a slightly raised brow, to which you and izumi share a glance before looking back at him in sync. quite frankly, he was starting to grow a little nervous under the surprised looks of yours and the little boy's. though it didn't reside within him for long once that ever familiar understanding smile grazed your features.

“a birthday is the day you were born.” you enlighten his inquiry, plain and simple, but for some reason; the young soul appeared rather solemn. to a certain extent, but not enough to elude you. “kabuki?” the little one chimed in, sewen doll in hand as he stood beside between you and his friend.

“ah... it's nothing.” he reassured with a slight smile, subtly shaking his head to emphasize his point. you were aware of the silence that was about to follow, almost instantly occupying it by resuming cutting the lavender melons. kabukimono followed, feeling a lump in his throat; guilt weighing him down. goodness; why did he have to be so careless? was a recurring thought.

“...you mentioned you were found by a swordmaster from tatarasuna, right?”

your inquiry rendered him to pause and glance to your direction again. you earn yourself a slight nod in response. “if you don't mind me asking,” you begin, hesitant and with gentle reproach. “when were you found?”

truthfully; you and izumi felt a flicker of relief wash over your beings upon seeing kabukimono's eyes light up. he ensured to take a moment before responding, just as you patiently awaited him. “the third of january.”

your head immediately turned to his direction, while izumi tensed with what one presumed to be excitement. something akin to it, at least.

“that's...” “it's today!”

you did not dare ask why he couldn't have told you two sooner, but that didn't matter much in the grand scheme of things now. “izumi,” the little boy looked up to meet your gaze, reciprocating your expectant smile with a bright one. “mind taking kabuki to our usual go-to spot?”

“what? but—” kabukimono attempted to protest, wanting to keep his promise of assisting you with breakfast, but you kindly interject. “it's alright. it's only my portion left anyway, i'll join you two once i'm done. here's your lavender melon soup,” you hand the bowl to your friend then turn to the little one. “and here's yours, little brother. careful now.” you remind the two before encouraging them to set off before you.

a mere wanderer he once was, not much to his name and identity; distant and detached. but right there and then, as he carefully guided izumi to carefully sit beside him, soon greeted with you joining them as per your word... the hot, salty and herbal liquid of the soup residing within the bowl between his palms, his closet friends, no — family, sitting beside him and watching the sunrise under the shades of rosy petals dancing to inazuma's faint melodies, pink and purple hues of dawn gently kissing you three chatting the early morning away, and at that moment;

“happy birthday, kabuki!” izumi beams, beaming whilst offering his portion of lavender melon soup as a gift. the endearing sight rendering a quiet, delighted laugh to flood past your lips.

from kabukimono's perspective, reduced to the same fragile soul he once was ( always had been ) but in the eyes of who saw him as their own,

he was the happiest they've seen him.

月. ( 841 words. )

scaramouche was never present for his birthday. always preoccupied with his duties, confined within the doctor's laboratory, so on and so forth... another boring day as it ever were, nothing more, nothing less.

the thought of doing nothing never stayed it's welcome on his agenda. even with his secretary around; those papers will keep piling, and the soldiers will require ten times the training. there was never room for free time, and on a day traditionally celebrated? absolutely not. besides,

“it's redundant.” the balladeer has long since convinced himself of that notion. for his manner of celebration was but a loop of the same things over, and over, and over —

he paused by the entrance to his office, fingertips hovering over the handle attached to the door. with a slight, exasperated sigh, not looking forward to the pile of papers that was going to greet him; he pushed the door open. however, a different surprise awaited him.

perched on the left side to the table was a that good old pile of papers, but it's settled to the left. far enough to allow room for cake and a whole tea set to accompany the empty space of the desk. “...” perplexed was the most likely the best way to sum it up. didn't help that you asked for a break today, so— “(name)?” shit. he didn't mean to let the slight confusion slip.

seated more than comfortably on scaramouche's chair was none other than the renowned angel of the sixth harbinger's subordinates ( in their eyes ); you. a cup of tea in hand as you do... nothing. hearing your name echo throughout the cozy space of his office; you spun the chair around just enough to meet his gaze. “welcome back.” you smile, assisting yourself back on your own feet.

“the warm welcome is nice, but what are you doing here? did you not want to take a break after your needless insisting yesterday?” the balladeer crossed his arms over his chest, raising a brow by the littlest bit. skeptic and displeased as ever. “i did, but it's over now.” you murmur while situating your teacup down, taking the empty teacup and filling it to nearly the brim with piping hot green tea. situating the little thing atop the small plate then extending the cup out to him. “here.”

his eyes darted down to the teacup in your hand, lips pursed by the slightest bit. you don't fail to notice the way he glanced at the neatly organized pile of papers. ”if you're worried about that; i wrapped them up for you.”

“pardon?” “i'm serious.”

“all of it?” he made the effort to double check, to which you feign offense at. “so much for trusting your secretary.” but the play did linger for long, encouraging him to take the teacup. “but yes, all of it. because today; you're the one on break.”

“i am sorry, what—” “not another word, thank you.”

scaramouche parted his lips to protest, but nothing came out. beneath the indifference was someone who, quite frankly, was tired. with a subtle huff, he walked past you, easing his coat off his shoulders and perching it on the unoccupied chair you often made yourself comfortable on. his muscles relax by the slightest bit as soon as he sat down. and this cake... “and this is for?” he eyed you from his more than comfortable position as you sat on the edge of the desk, taking a sip of his tea. the hot beverage soothing him more than he figured it would. this whole set-up felt a bit... suspect.

“you, silly.” “alright; why are you all chummy today, hm?”

you couldn't suppress the soft chuckle that escaped you, earning you a further hint of confusion in his gaze rather than skepticism. “it's your birthday, no?” in a rare moment of weakness; kunikuzushi's expression falters. pieced with subtle shock via the way his eyes widened by the littlest bit before he snapped himself out of it.

but what could he possibly say to that? not when the first two times you did this; he foresaked you for work. “anywho... the bakery was closed, so i gave my best shot at making your favorite dessert.” you beamed, enough to snap him out of another train of thought. scaramouche directed his gaze to the cake again. dark chocolate, with a stupid looking version of him drawn in the center of the pastry. “how ridiculous...” he muttered to himself, uncaring to whether you caught his words or not.

you watch intently as he sliced a piece at his own pace, though indifferent as ever, he's slightly content. progress. he occupied himself with a small bite, the bitterness delightful enough to send his inner mind to a state of bliss. the one you're watching however, “never bake again.” “hey now; i spent days perfecting this stupid recipe with columbina.”

kunikuzushi chuckled heartily into his second bite at your words, rolling his eyes before reaching for his teacup to take a sip.

so much for celebrating a birthday.

日食. ( 740 words. )

the wanderer had only recently begun ‘celebrating’ his birthday. a small gathering with nahida and you mostly, but nothing beyond it since the akademiya often took up his time. however, you and the little sprout wanted something more special for him. so long as it wasn't grandiose under your suggestion, there should be no problem.

and now? you are in the akademiya. same as your eccentric wanderer in every regard.

break times were a hardship like the abundance of lectures you two take together. and honestly? you can understand why he spends most of his time scribbling random things instead of taking notes, these lectures are nothing short of boring, eventful only on rare cases where the wanderer is competing.

his side of this little mishap on nahida's end, though... he's taking a bit of enjoyment in having a familiar face around, everytime he'd glance to your side; he would smile in amusement at your predicament then resume scribbling whatever came to mind.

then passing the paper to you.

‘drowsy much?’ his little note read the first time you two begun making this a habit. slowly, as time flew, it evolved into both notes and scribbles alike. with now being such an example. almost everyone familiar with him within the akademiya's boarders is seeking to wish him well on his birthday at most, enigmatic as he was with little to no information regarding him aside from you and the little sprout. it didn't elude the wanderer, your giddiness that is. but oddly of all; you've been avoiding him like the plague.

in the midst of another lecture, he passed you a note. ‘mind indulging my curiosity?’ the note read, and you did as stated... by playing pretend. ‘regarding what?’ you wrote beneath his inquiry. his gaze softened slightly.

‘you're not exactly slick, you know.’ he paused and directed his attention to the professor, toying with the pen between his fingers. feigning his attentive attention before returning to the topic at hand. ‘avoiding me.’

peculiarly to wanderer; you smiled softly. giving him the attention he's been lacking since this morning. rather than writing something in response, you resort to scribbling something. a cup of tea...? he eyed you from the side before adding his own. a cat glaring at you. you do your utmost to prevent even the slightest chuckle from escaping you, holding your unoccupied hand up to your lightly pursed lips curved up into a smile. he found the sight quite cute, with the sunlight emitting from the large windows illuminating your features.

once having took a moment to recollect yourself, you pick up your pen and began drawing something atop the cat's head. a birthday hat.

the small smile of amusement faded from wanderer's face, replaced with an expression of acknowledgement with a hint of feigned bemusement. ‘be serious, (name).’ he wrote for you then added on. ‘i was a little serious, i'll admit.’ you respond on your shared piece of paper then finally take the chance to allow your request to seep through, now that the jig was up. ‘meet me at our usual spot?’ he doesn't respond verbally, giving a subtle nod. how could he say no to you, really.

‘i'll see you then.’ his expression spoke.

once the akademiya side of things would be over; you two would spend some alone time before stopping by the sanctuary. and it was then that vulnerabilities slowly open, though subtle. his past but a frozen dream, lost to all time, erased and set free. but when the wanderer saw your gift; it was akin to reopening a gash. but in the gentlest manner possible.

“ever since you made me that doll; i thought to reciprocate the gesture.” you murmur as you two settle under the shades, a doll you sew resting softly on the palms of your hand. resembling you to an extent. “just as you are with me, i am now with you. even in the closet distance.” your beaming smile as you uttered those words was incredibly unnecessary, he wanted to convince himself.

“...you never settle, do you?” wanderer mused to himself mostly. a kindness such as this never recoils, carrying the taste of a forgiveness that if it were for the him in a past long gone would deem undeserving. but you won't take that to heart.

“happy birthday again.”

you murmur once again, to which he responded by loosely entwining his fingers with yours.

BONUS !!

the wanderer who prior to obtaining his memories and vision :: greatly prioritizes your happiness on his own day. to an uncanny extent; he somewhat believes he isn't enough for you, doesn't truly deserve you because unlike you; he's incomplete. but he doesn't take that to heart all that much.

a lot of letters. he thoroughly enjoys writing his feelings about the day he spent with you down in his journal and unapologetically sends a copy over, knowing that you'll adore it to bits. just as he loves you unapologetically in silence and earnest.

[sleighhethereal]

♡ — 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

WARNING: slight nsfw, bunnies

imagine being one of the only female best friend's of Mei, and somehow you haven't met the Monkey King at all the first season or two

you didn't really give a shit to begin with

sure, it was amazing having MK as a best friend AND successor to some immortal jackass

all you've heard from MK is that Wukong was—

"HE'S THE BEESST!" MK squealed as he swung the red staff around in the air, swiftly doing stances with each turn. "Just as the legend says, [Name]! He's strong, handsome, and- and- he taught me that you should ALWAYS believe in yourself—"

"MK, I could have told you that myself."

though, there was a small part of you that wasn't atleast curious of what or who Sun Wukong is

it seemed MK talked about you alot, because sometimes Wukong asked for you to join

"Hey [Name]." MK would approach you as you held twenty dishes in hand, "Monkey King asked me... to ask you, if you wanted to- sort of- join in on the training—?"

that'd be when MK would receive a wooden spoon to the back of his head, sending him flying to the ground face-first

"HELL NO! HE GOT ONE OF YOU, I'M NOT LETTING HIM TAKE THE OTHER!" Pigsy would screech, somehow spawning another wooden spoon in his palms.

after that, MK stayed for shifts a bit longer than expected‐ you'd ask why and he'd tell you Monkey King seemed like he was sulking, so he gave him a break

weird stuff

it was during personal training that you'd finally meet the Great Sage‐ not under great circumstances

and no, it wasn't for the end of the world

MK was prepping his own moves, with you on the side for... support? Mei came around in a bit, sitting beside you.

"I wonder what else I can do.." MK mumbled to himself, pushing his hand out as it began to glow a bright yellow. "YAAAAAAAHH!"

everything went black

and you slowly opened your eyes to see Mei beating the absolute shit out of MK

"I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY—"

"YOU TURNED MY BEST FRIEND INTO A BUNNY- CHANGE HER BACK, NOW!"

you blinked, looked down, and screamed.

you quickly rushed- well, hopped‐ towards a full-length mirror and gazed upon yourself.

you turned into a life-sized bunny

half the day was spent with MK trying to turn you back but nothing worked, just a sweaty man on the floor and a whole lot of sobbing apologies

it would've been fine but you were starting to do strange things

like, you hated Pigsy for example

"Kid, what the hell is up with you?" Pigsy asked, his eyes filled with nothing but concern.

"Don't TOUCH me!"

you found some menstrual pads, chocolate, and some take-out noodles on your bed the next day

you weren't on your period.

you nudged people, head-butted, and didn't sleep at all at night

sometimes you'd watch MK sleep and he'd wake up to your purring, and then others would wake up to his terrified screams

finally, MK took you to Flower Fruit Mountain- he couldn't turn you back himself, but someone can

that'd be the Monkey King himself

you were especially weird this week- you had made a dirty den in the shop, growling at anyone who came near

so, yeah, that was kind of the last straw for Pigsy

when Monkey King came out to greet MK and Mei, he never did

he squealed at the sight of you, pushing the kids aside (quite roughly, sending them flying off the stairs) and rushed you with open arms

he kissed your face, nibbling your cheeks— a part of him actually thought you were an early birthday gift

"O-M-G! You're so cute! What brought you here, hmmmm? Oooooooo, I just wanna eat you up and put you in my pocket-" He babbled nonsense as he carried you, pinching your cheeks.

that was until you practically pounced on his face, pulling his nose close to yours as you stared into his eyes.

"You'd give me great kittens."

"...Oh?"

It took MK a while to try and separate you both and it took a while longer convincing Wukong to turn you back

"Look, man, I need you to bring her back to her- you know, normal self."

"But why????"

"You KNOW why!"

"If dealing with her is so difficult, I could... take her off your hands—"

"MONKEY KING." "DON'T YOU DARE!"

"WHAAAAATTTT?"

eventually, after like two days, MK convinced Wukong. it would've taken longer if it weren't for you actually telling him that you wanted to be yourself again

after Wukong's dramatic tears and hard hugs, he turned you back

lucky for you, you don't remember anything that happened after being converted

well, lucky for like a few seconds after you got back to the shop

"So you kind of asked Monkey King to, uh.." MK got close to your ears, whispering the rest."

your face went red, "I did what?"

"I think he was into it too—"

"WHAT?"

[butlervibesonly]

𝐵𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑙𝑒 | Austin Burler

• SUMMARY: Ashley, Austin’s sister, is checking up on her soon to be sister in law, and on her brother too before their wedding, to find out they’re both nervous wreck’s and, well… So made for each other.

• PAIRING: Austin Butler x female reader + Austin’s sister is included 🥰

• WARNINGS: nothing just fluff and most cute nervousness before wedding, maybe typos

“Oh my gosh, Y/n!” you hear Ashley gasp. You're counting down the last minutes until the ceremony. By now, your friends, who helped you with your dress and makeup, also had to get ready, so you were alone in your room. “You look absolutely gorgeous, Y/n!”

You fix some details on your dress, smiling at Ashley who also looks so beautiful in her dress. “Thank you, Ash.” As Ashley comes closer to you, she helps to adjust your veil. “How are you feeling?” she asks, noticing the nervousness in your eyes.

"Honestly?” you sigh. “I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest. I’m so nervous. What if... what if something goes wrong? What if I mess up, or he realizes—" Before you can even finish this sentence, Ashley stops you.

"Whoa, slow down. Let me stop you right there. First of all, nothing is going to go wrong, alright? And second you’re marrying my brother and he loves you. Like, completely, unconditionally, can’t-stop-talking-about-you loves you."

You laugh softly and nervously “He does talk a lot, doesn’t he?" Ashley nods while taking your hands in hers. "Oh, trust me, nonstop. He’s been like this since the day he met you. You should hear him when you’re not around. You’re his world, Y/n. And I’ve never seen him so happy."

Ashley’s words make your eyes filled with tears. You can’t believe you’re here, few minutes before marrying the man of your dreams forever. “Really?” you smile surprisingly at her.

“I wouldn’t joke about this. You’re everything he ever wanted. And trust me — this day is the day he always dreamed about.” Ashley was like your sister since the day one. She supports you in everything and loves you like you have always been the part of family.

“I just... don’t want to let him down, you know.”

“You won’t. Just be yourself as you are always “, Y/n, and this day will be perfect. You’ve got this, okay? And we all love you not only him!” Her hands are on your shoulders as he is looking into your eyes - with those eyes that are so familiar to Austin’s.

“Woah, thank you... really. You guys are the best thing that could ever happen to me.” you say, relieved. Ashley wraps her arms around you to pull you into a gentle hug as she doesn’t want to ruin your beautiful dress.

“Anytime. You’ll be part of family after all,” you two giggle. “Now, take another deep breath, and you will make my brother the luckiest man alive in any second.” she says and before she leaves, she turns in the door. “But first let me check on him,” she smirks making you laugh.

As Ashley knocks on her brother’s room, walking in she sees Austin adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Knock, knock. How’s the groom doing?” Austin lets out a breath, running a hand through his “Oh, you know... I’m so nervous. Like I have never been.”

Ashley smiles widely, remembering you told her the exact same thing. “Yea, definitely soulmates…” she murmurs, coming closer to help Austin with his tie. “What was that?” Austin asks as he didn’t understand what Ashley said.

“Oh, nothing. Just confirming what I already knew. You two are perfect for each other.” she replies and is done with his tie. Austin sits down on the bed with a deep sight. “I just... I don’t want to mess this up, you know? She’s everything to me. What if—“

“Nope. Don’t even go there. Listen to me, you’re not going to mess anything up, okay? You are over the heels about Y/n since the day one, do you know how I know?” Ashley looks at her brother as he furrows his eyebrows, waiting for what she wants to tell him.

“Because you never stop talking about Y/n, Austin. I’ve never seen you happier over anyone else like this. She’s good for you. And more importantly, you’re good for her. She loves you just as much as you love her, maybe even more-.

Austin smiles softly, taking notes of what Ashley says. “So stop worrying. She’s walking down that aisle because she wants to. All you have to do is be there, say 'I do,' and try not to cry much."

“No, no… Absolutely no promises on the crying part.” Austin says, pointing at the emergency tissue in his pocket. Ashley laughs, and as Austin stand up, they both hug,

“Remember, Aus, you’ve got this. You’re her everything, her friend, her partner in crime, her future husband. Now take a deep breath and let’s go make her Mrs. Butler.” Austin nods and as the clocks ticks the time of the ceremony, that is where your future begins. Your future as Mr. and Mrs. Butler.

[r0-boat]

🪶 anon here! Can I request headcanons for ZZZ Lighter, Billy, Anton, Ben Bigger, Wise, and Lycaon reacting to being under a mistletoe with his gn crush please?

Oh my God Oh my God I'm so late.

Pretend it's Christmas! just pretend! shut up!!

ZZZ Boys react being under the mistletoe

You smiled and chatted with a little group of your friends, the managers at random play hosted a Christmas party in their parking lot and who are you to decline your best friends! With a few chairs and tables Christmas lights and even a giant projector playing classic Christmas movies it quickly became very lively Even some of the people running the shop next door brought homemade food and treats, and some alcohol. After a drink or two and introducing yourself to a few people, You somehow made your way under a familiar green plant with someone you knew.

Lighter Lorenz

He'll try to act like he wasn't the one who tried so hard to look so casual standing close enough between you and the mistletoe. He'd been trying to get you underneath all night, And now that you're right next to him he had to hold back how much he was smiling as all he did was look up.

"Well, would you look at that... I'm not too familiar with the rules, are you?" The big fat liar said, letting a little curve of a smile grace his freshly moisturized lips from the chapstick he had used earlier. He was already sneaking his arms around your waist pulling you closer to kiss him. You decided to not call him out for his blatant lie as he almost completely took the lead and kissed you.

Billy Kid

He generally thought mistletoe was a myth, a myth that someone like him would never be under a plant like that. He didn't even know that The plant actually was a real life plant until Nicole had to explain to him what he was underneath. And once everything hits him all at once.

Billy.exe stopped working

He doesn't care if he can't feel your soft lips, the fact that you kissed him counts. But damn it was one of those days where he really wish he could feel maybe he should get that skin sensation update. It's expensive but any price he would pay to feel your lips again.

Anton Ivanov

The most chill out of everyone. "Oh I'm just giving you a kiss? Sure!" As he goes in to kiss you. Using the mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you has him fist bumping the air.

Anton is the kind of guy who makes his feelings for you known. He's also so blatant with his feelings that you think he's joking. If it was anywhere else on that mistletoe, he would have kissed them on the cheek or something, but no, for you. He makes sure to kiss you where it counts. He'll even ask "do you want more?"please say yes he would like that.

Ben Bigger

Poor bear he's practically shaking. Despite being twice your size He scared that he might hurt you or nip you on accident with his sharp teeth. "You don't have to if you don't want to... You can just kiss me right here." He says with a smile His claw pointing to his cheek. He could never accept a kiss from your lips. It's not the right time!

He'll make sure to bend to your height. His eyes closed, bracing for your soft lips. He could hear his heart pounding so loud that it drowned out everyone else. He hopes no one is looking. He might die from embarrassment or cardiac arrest, whichever one comes first.

You surprise him by touching his cute face and kissing his little nose. He hopes that you can't see his blushing face through his brown fur, but he's not helping to hide how he feels with his paws covering his face.

Wise

Damn it! He told his sister not to hang up that thing! And when trying to take it down you just so happen to bump into him. His eyes went wide as his heart jumped in his throat instantly forgetting what he was doing. His voice cracks as you point out the mistletoe that he's trying to reach for.

"Y-yeah That's there... Um... So listen you don't have to if you-" You were done hearing it as you kissed him on the lips. Thanking his self-restraint that day for swallowing his internal screaming. But he couldn't do much to hide the blush on his face as he smiled. "Forward aren't you... Save some for me." Four words that he will be regretting for the rest of his life.

Fine, the mistletoe can stay... For now, he'll have to thank his sister later.

Von Lycaon

To him a mistletoe is childish, Even as a younger pup He thought it was a little stupid. But with that bright smile on your face how could he refuse. Why spoil your fun? You look so happy to see him and you're cute face always makes his tail wag.

"where would you like my lips to lay?" He asks. When you appoint to your lips his eyebrows flick up for just a second before his smile widens. "Who am I to turn down such a request." He can't help but give you a little extra pressing his nose against your hand before moving to kiss your lips. Now he definitely understands the appeal of mistletoe.

Asaba Harumasa

He would probably take the mistletoe that is tied to the ceiling and bring it over to you. He taps your shoulder and jiggles it in his hand with a smug smile. He will regret this for the rest of his life, but who cares? He has a little alcohol in his system, and you're right there. His heart could burst when he felt your lips against his. He wanted more so badly. He tried to pull you in closer. His eyes were half-lit as if he were under a spell.

He had to stop himself from going in for another kiss. Your lips were so perfect. He wished he could do more than a quick peck, but with people watching, he couldn't just slip his tongue in your mouth.

[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Twenty-Three: Determination

Chapter WC: 13,883

Chapter Warnings: drama!!! some wound stuff, obligatory emotional turmoil tag even though we all knew that was coming

A/N: I am back! I was able to build up my draft chapter backlog again, starting with this one. It's a lot, but we can all rest easy knowing this will be the last one like this for a while.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

???, 21 BBY

The moment the two of you step into the hallway, it becomes clear that this isn't a minor glitch or an unexpected turn of events.

The alarms are still blaring, and the ship's computer is still repeating the same message over and over again, and the emergency lighting has turned the hallways into a sea of red and black, making it difficult to see where you're going. Rex and you hurry towards the bridge, following the trail of panicked troopers and harried officers as they rush around, trying to get the situation under control.

Halfway there, a group of troopers rush past you, and one breaks away, waving the others on as he jogs towards you and Rex. You spot the Republic cog on his faceplate and feel a flood of relief.

"General, Captain," Jesse salutes, sounding a bit breathless. His helmet is slightly askew, and his armor is covered in dust, his boots scuffed and dirty. You watch as he glances down and freezes, and it’s only then that you realize Rex is still holding your hand.

"Jesse," Rex greets, not letting go, and you do your best to keep a straight face as Jesse clears his throat. "What's going on?"

"There’s been an explosion in the engine bay," he answers quickly. Rex's grip on your hand tightens, and Jesse gestures down the corridor, his voice rising over the alarms blaring. "One of the hyperdrives blew out and triggered the failsafe on the others.”

"How did this happen?" you ask sharply. You have no idea what the technicalities are behind hyperdrives and how they work, but it doesn’t take a genius to understand the implications of Jesse's words. A single failure means that the ship is now stranded in the middle of nowhere. A series of failures means something else entirely. "Are we—"

"It's going to take some time to figure out the cause, General," Jesse interrupts, his voice tight. He glances around nervously and drops his voice to a low whisper, his words almost lost beneath the roar of the alarms and the chaos surrounding you. "But I think someone set off an explosive charge on purpose."

“Sabotage?” Rex repeats incredulously. He looks at Jesse in shock and lets go of your hand, stepping closer, his voice rising above the noise. "Are you sure?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Jesse replies grimly. "We're lucky the blast didn't kill anyone."

"We need to get to the bridge," you say quickly, and Jesse nods, motioning for you to follow him.

You and Rex fall into step beside him, the three of you weaving through the chaos, dodging around the crew and the troopers who are rushing in the opposite direction. You reach the doors to the bridge and wait impatiently as they open, the three of you stepping through, and the alarms cut off abruptly. The room is eerily quiet after the loud commotion of the corridor, and it takes a moment for your ears to adjust.

The bridge is a hive of activity, with everyone doing their best to deal with the emergency, but as soon as you enter, all eyes are on the three of you, the expressions ranging from fear and worry to anger and confusion. Anakin and Ahsoka are standing around a holotable with Admiral Yularen and a handful of technicians, their voices raised in anger, and their attention shifts to you as you approach.

“It’s about time you showed up," Anakin snaps, his jaw clenched, and you frown at his tone. His eyes move between you and Rex, his lips curling into a sneer. "We're in the middle of a crisis here. What took you so long?"

The immediate urge to defend yourself rises up inside you, and your hands clench at your sides, a surge of indignation rushing through you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rex tense and shift on his feet.

He glances at you, and the two of you share a look, a silent conversation passing between the two of you, a reminder to stay calm. You take a deep breath and force your expression into a mask of calm.

"What's the situation?" you ask, ignoring Anakin's question, and Rex moves closer, standing beside you. His presence is reassuring, and you can't help but think of what happened just minutes ago. What might've happened if the two of you hadn't been interrupted.

A flush creeps up your neck, and you push those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. There'll be plenty of time to think about that later.

"We're in trouble,” Anakin growls.

"I'd gathered that," you reply dryly. Ahsoka and Jesse glance at each other, the former rolling her eyes, the latter shaking his head. Rex shoots you a warning look, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes as well, turning back to Anakin. "Do we have a damage report yet?"

"Most of the main systems are offline," Yularen replies, his voice calm and collected, a stark contrast to the anger and frustration emanating from the two of you. "And we've lost contact with the rest of the fleet."

"What does that mean exactly?" you ask. Yularen takes a deep breath and glances at Anakin, who waves his hand impatiently, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He turns back to you and gives you a grim look.

"We're trapped in the middle of nowhere," he answers flatly. "At the current speed, it'll take us over two months to reach Kamino, and that is if we make it through the Rishi Maze.”

"Is the hyperdrive salvageable?" Rex asks, his eyes moving between the admiral and the techs, who are all shaking their heads. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck, his brow furrowing. "So what's the plan?"

"We're going to have to repair the ship and wait for help," Ahsoka says, her hands on her hips, and you can hear the frustration in her voice. You look at her, and she meets your gaze, her expression hardening. "I'm working with the maintenance crews to fix the engines. It shouldn't take more than a few hours."

"We need to figure out why this happened," you add, turning to Jesse, and he nods, his expression solemn. "Did you find the source of the explosion yet?"

"Not yet, sir," he replies.

"I'll help with the investigation," you offer. Jesse and Rex exchange a look, and you can sense their unease. Jesse frowns, his eyes narrowing slightly, and his gaze moves between the two of you. "What?"

"With all due respect, General," Jesse says carefully. He looks at Anakin, and when the other man doesn't speak, he continues. "This may have been an attempt to assassinate a high-ranking officer. If it was, the investigation will need to be handled with discretion. Someone on board this ship might be the culprit."

"And by handling the investigation discreetly, you mean not including the person being targeted in the investigation," you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, and Jesse winces. Rex sighs and steps forward, his hand reaching out to grasp your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. You shrug him off and glare at Jesse. "That's not happening."

"If it was an attempt to kill you, General, it's possible that the attacker will try again," he explains, his tone apologetic. He hesitates, and when you don't respond, he squares his shoulders. “It would be safer if you were to stay on the bridge."

"He's right," Ahsoka adds. She meets your gaze, her eyes full of concern, and her voice is gentle. "You'll be safer up here."

"I can handle myself," you snap, and Ahsoka shakes her head.

"We know that," she replies. She motions to the holotable, and her mouth curves into a small smile. "But let us handle this. Okay? We'll figure out what happened. I promise."

"Fine," you mutter, and Rex gives you a sympathetic look, his hand returning to your shoulder. He squeezes it once more and turns to Jesse, his expression shifting from sympathetic to stern.

"Let me know if you need anything," Rex tells him.

"Will do, sir," Jesse nods. He looks at Ahsoka and tilts his head towards the door, and she falls into step beside him, the two of them heading towards the exit, their voices low and urgent. You watch as they leave, and a pang of regret shoots through you.

"This is bad," Anakin mutters. You glance at him, and his eyes meet yours, the irritation and anger gone, replaced by weariness and worry. He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"It's okay," you sigh, and he snorts, giving you a wry smile. You shrug and look away, a grimace twisting your face. "Well, it's not. But I get it."

"Thanks," Anakin mutters. He shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck, his gaze moving between you and Rex. "Can you two make sure everything is under control? I need to go speak with the Chancellor."

"Of course," Rex answers. Anakin gives him a curt nod and turns away, marching towards the door with Yularen at his heels. 

You watch them go, the unease in the pit of your stomach growing. The thought of having to stay on the bridge while everyone else does their best to fix the situation makes you want to scream. The desire to run off and search for the culprit is overwhelming, but you know better than to do that. 

And even if you didn't, Rex wouldn't let you.

"You're not happy about this," Rex murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

"No, I'm not," you admit. You turn to him, and he raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint smile. You narrow your eyes and poke his chest. "This is not funny."

"I didn't say anything," Rex chuckles. You glare at him and cross your arms over your chest, and he gives you a sympathetic look. He lifts his hands and rubs them over his face, letting out a tired sigh. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For earlier," he says quietly, and a rush of heat floods your body. "I shouldn't have said what I said."

"Rex..."

"It was inappropriate," he says, cutting you off, and the guilt in his voice makes your heart ache. His head drops and he rubs the back of his neck, a small frown tugging at his lips. "I...I don't know what I was thinking."

"Hey," you say, and his eyes snap up to yours. "It's okay. It's...we're both stressed and worried. We're dealing with a lot right now."

"That's no excuse," he mutters. His brow furrows and his gaze drops, and the shame and guilt that emanate from him are so strong that it takes everything in you not to reach out and pull him into your arms. But you can't do that. Not here. Not now. And not until the two of you have talked about what happened.

"Look, we'll talk about it later," you tell him gently. He glances at you and nods. "Okay?"

"Yeah," he sighs, and you can feel his mood shift, the tension and stress melting away, replaced by a quiet resignation. His shoulders slump, and a resigned smile spreads across his face. "You're right."

"I usually am," you joke. Rex rolls his eyes, and you give him a quick grin before looking around the bridge. "Alright, we should—"

"General," a technician interrupts. He gestures towards the holotable, and you walk over, Rex following close behind. The image of a star chart is projected above the table, and the technician taps on the display, zooming in on the image. “We’re receiving a distress signal from a nearby planet. It's coming from the surface."

"That's odd," Rex mutters, his brow furrowing. He leans closer and studies the image, his head tilting to the side. "There aren't any habitable planets in this system."

"Maybe it's automated," you suggest.

"Possibly," the technician agrees. 

He taps a few more buttons, and the image changes, showing the planet from above. The landscape is covered in a dense, gray fog, obscuring most of the details. You can just make out the outline of a single structure, surrounded by a ring of large, craggy rocks. The technician points to a small, blinking dot on the display. 

"The signal is coming from a small outpost on the planet. The inhabitants appear to be human colonists, but it's unclear who they are."

"It could be Separatists," Rex murmurs. He looks at you, and you can see the concern in his eyes. "They could've staged this attack and then fled to the planet. They could be waiting for us."

"Maybe," you reply. Your eyes return to the display, and you frown, a familiar feeling tugging at the edge of your senses. There's something about the planet that's nagging at you, and you can't quite put your finger on it. "There's only one way to find out."

"Are you suggesting we send a squad down there?" Rex asks, shaking his head. "We can't risk a confrontation. We don't have the manpower or the resources to handle another fight."

You look back at the image and nod slowly. The more you think about it, the more certain you are that the feeling is the Force telling you that there's something important on the planet. You take a deep breath and meet his gaze.

“No, I’m suggesting that I go down there," you tell him, and Rex's expression turns incredulous, his eyes widening.

"You're kidding," he says, a note of disbelief in his voice. He straightens his back and shakes his head. "No. No way. You're not going down there alone."

"Yes, I am," you argue, and Rex glares at you, his hands moving to his hips. At your side, the technician shifts uncomfortably, his eyes flicking between the two of you. "There's a chance that whoever's down there might need our help. If they do, I have a duty to assist them."

"Your duty is to stay here," Rex counters. "On the ship. Safe and sound. Away from any potential danger."

"Don't be dramatic," you scoff. "I'll take a ship, go down there, check it out, and then come right back. Simple."

"Simple," he repeats. He lets out a frustrated sigh and looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head. "Nothing is ever simple with you. You know that, right?"

"I'm aware," you reply dryly. Rex huffs and rubs the back of his neck, his gaze dropping to the floor. His expression is strained, and he's doing his best not to look at you. He knows that if he does, you'll be able to convince him, and he doesn't want that.

You wait, watching as he tries to come up with an argument, but it's obvious that he's struggling. He knows that the odds are against him, and the longer he stays silent, the more difficult it is for him to find a valid reason. Neither of you are willing to concede.

"Please," you finally say, and his eyes flick up to yours, his brow furrowing. You meet his gaze and offer him a small smile. "I have a feeling that I should go down there."

"A feeling," he repeats. He lets out a deep, weary sigh, and his shoulders slump. "Fine. But I'm going with you."

"No," you protest, but Rex shakes his head.

"Either I go with you or you don't go," he says firmly. He folds his arms across his chest, his expression hardening. "Pick."

"You're not serious," you retort, but Rex doesn't budge, and a heavy silence fills the air. The technician shifts awkwardly and clears his throat, looking back and forth between the two of you.

"I can arrange for a shuttle," he offers, and Rex gives him a curt nod.

"Thank you," he says. The technician hurries away, leaving the two of you alone. Rex looks at you, and his expression softens, his lips twitching upwards. "Don't argue."

"I'm not arguing," you retort, and he snorts, shaking his head.

"You always argue," he points out. He glances around the bridge, and his eyes settle on a group of troopers gathered near the far wall. "I'm going to see if anyone's willing to volunteer for the mission."

"We're not telling them about the distress signal," you tell him quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want anyone else to go down there," you explain, and his eyebrows rise.

"You want to keep this a secret?" he asks, his tone disbelieving.

"I'm not trying to keep it a secret," you reply, and his eyebrows rise higher. You let out an exasperated sigh and shake your head. "I'm trying to protect them. If the Separatists are down there, they're going to be heavily armed and dangerous. I'm not sending anyone else down there."

"And if they are, and it's a trap?" Rex counters.

"Then, I'll have you," you retort. You tilt your head to the side and smile. "You'll keep me safe, right?"

"Always," he says quietly, his expression growing serious. The two of you hold each other's gaze, and you can sense the conflict and worry radiating off him. After a moment, his eyes move to the side, and he rubs the back of his neck, his expression shifting into a frown. "We should get ready."

"Agreed."

The two of you turn and head for the exit, falling into step beside each other. As you step into the corridor, the alarms blare once again, and you wince, the sudden loud noise catching you off guard. The red lighting flashes and casts a crimson glow over the hall, and the computerized voice calls out over the alarms.

"Attention. Attention. This is an emergency..."

Rex shakes his head and grumbles under his breath. You give him a sympathetic look and reach out, squeezing his arm.

"Come on," you murmur. He nods and follows after you as you make your way through the ship toward the hangar where the shuttle is waiting. It's not a long trip, and you don't say anything along the way, the two of you lost in your own thoughts. The unease that has been building inside you grows with every passing second, and by the time you reach the hangar, you're certain that this is a bad idea.

"Rex," you start, but he cuts you off, grabbing your arm, pulling you to the side. A group of troopers rush past, their armor reflecting the red glow from the lights, and the two of you stand there, watching them run by. When they're gone, he lets go and sighs.

"Whatever happens down there, we stick together," he tells you. You nod, and his hand reaches out, gripping your shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Got it?"

"Got it," you reply, and he smiles and lets go, taking a step back. He turns and walks away, heading for the shuttle, and you follow after him, doing your best to keep the doubt from showing on your face.

The Twilight is already prepped and ready to go, the ramp lowered, the engines sputtering. The idea of taking Anakin's prized freighter without him knowing isn't exactly appealing, but it's not like the two of you have a choice. And besides, it's not like you'll be gone for long. You'll just take a quick look, check out the situation, and then get the hell out. Simple.

"Sir!" A voice calls out as you and Rex scale the ramp. Jesse jogs over, his helmet tucked under his arm. "What's going on? Why are you leaving?"

Rex looks over at you and tilts his head towards the entrance of the hangar, gesturing for you to go ahead. You nod and step inside, moving towards the cockpit, leaving the two of them alone. As soon as you're out of earshot, you slow down, stopping just outside the door, listening to their conversation.

"We're going on a mission," Rex answers. You hear the clink of his boots against the durasteel decking and a small thump, probably him setting down his helmet.

"What mission?" Jesse asks. You lean against the wall, watching as he frowns and looks at Rex, his expression skeptical. "General Skywalker said we should stay here and fix the ship."

"Something's come up," Rex replies, and Jesse's frown deepens. He glances towards the cockpit, and you move further away, pretending to inspect the wiring. You watch as his eyes narrow, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Does it have anything to do with why you were late to the bridge earlier?" he asks. Rex hesitates, and Jesse's gaze moves back to him, his expression turning suspicious. "Sir, did something happen between you and the General?"

"It's none of your business, Jesse," Rex tells him sharply. You wince, and Rex glances towards the cockpit, his eyes locking onto yours, his cheeks flushing slightly. He gives you a tight smile and looks away, clearing his throat. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. There's...there's a lot going on."

"Is she in trouble?" Jesse presses, and Rex sighs, shaking his head.

"Not yet," he answers. "But there's a chance she might be, so we're going to check it out."

"We?"

"Yeah," Rex replies. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his head, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I'm going with her."

"Of course you are," Jesse snorts, and Rex looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sir, with all due respect, this is not the time for the two of you to be sneaking off together," Jesse says, his voice rising slightly, his tone growing agitated. Rex winces, and his eyes move to you again, and you can feel the guilt radiating off him.

"We're not sneaking off together," he tells Jesse, his tone firm. "And even if we were, that's not any of your business. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jesse replies. He pauses, and you watch as his eyes move back and forth, his mind working furiously. "Well, if you're going, I'm going too."

"That's not—"

"I know, I know," Jesse interrupts, holding up his hands, and he gives Rex a small grin. "The General doesn't want anyone else involved. But if she's in danger, it's my duty to protect her. If you're going, I'm going."

"It's dangerous," Rex warns.

"We're soldiers. That's our job.," Jesse replies. He shrugs and gestures towards the shuttle. "And besides, I can't leave you two alone. You might do something stupid."

"Like what?" Rex scoffs, and Jesse smirks.

"Oh, I don't know," he says, his tone casual, but there's a hint of a teasing edge to his voice. "Do I really need to spell it out?"

Rex scowls and looks away, his cheeks reddening, and Jesse lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"Don't worry, sir," he assures him. "Your secret is safe with me."

"There's no secret," Rex grumbles. Jesse rolls his eyes and claps him on the shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look.

"Whatever you say, sir."

The two of them start up the ramp into the shuttle, forcing you to dart into the pilot's seat. You pretend to fiddle with the controls, and a few seconds later, they enter the cockpit, both men looking at you expectantly.

"All set?" Rex asks, and you nod.

"I think so," you reply. You glance between the two of them, a frown forming on your face. "Jesse, why are you here?"

"He's coming with us," Rex says, and you can feel your frown deepen.

"I said that no one else was coming with us," you argue. Jesse shrugs and sets his helmet on the console.

"With all due respect, General, I'm coming anyway," he tells you. His tone is polite, but the stubborn set of his jaw and the determined look in his eye make it clear that he won't be easily swayed. "You might need backup."

"We'll be fine," you snap, and Rex sighs.

"Let him come," he says quietly. His eyes lock onto yours, and when you see the pleading look in them, you give him a frustrated huff.

"Fine," you mutter.

"Good," Jesse grins, and you roll your eyes.

"Whatever," you grumble, and you start flipping switches, the engines roaring to life, the controls lighting up. The three of you strap yourselves in, and you grab the controls, guiding the ship out of the hangar and into space. As soon as you're clear, you tap the coordinates for the planet, and the autopilot takes over, guiding the ship towards its destination. 

You turn to Jesse, who's busy checking his equipment, and point at the viewport. "This is a reconnaissance mission. We're going to take a look, check out the situation, and then get the hell out. Got it?"

"Got it," Jesse agrees. You glance at Rex, who gives you a small nod, and the three of you settle in, watching the stars streak past the viewport. After a few minutes, the planet comes into view, the gray mass looming in front of you. You frown and peer out at it, watching the fog clouds roil and swirl. Something about the planet gives you a strange, uneasy feeling, and you can't shake the feeling that this is a bad idea.

"General," Rex says softly. You look over at him, and he raises an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine," you reply, and his eyes narrow. He doesn't believe you, but you don't want to worry him. Or Jesse. Or yourself, for that matter. You push the feeling aside and gesture towards the planet. "Let's do this."

The shuttle descends, the planet growing larger as it approaches. You lean forward and watch as the fog begins to part, revealing the surface. As you get closer, the details become clearer, and the gray landscape stretches as far as the eye can see. There's nothing green or brown or blue, just the same endless gray expanse. The only landmark is a small cluster of structures near the edge of the horizon.

You frown and press the controls, the shuttle changing course, angling towards the buildings. You scan the area and let out a soft sigh. There's no sign of life anywhere.

As the shuttle continues its descent, the fog closes in, and the ground becomes obscured. The buildings loom ahead, and you adjust the course, flying over the structures, circling around. The shuttle's scanners sweep the area, searching for any signs of life, but there's nothing. No movement. No heat signatures. No signs of any living creature.

"It's deserted," Rex says quietly. He glances at you, and his expression hardens. "Are we sure this is the right place?"

"Yeah," you reply. You look out the viewport, watching as the structures pass by beneath the shuttle, and the uneasiness inside you grows. The Force is telling you that there's something important on the surface, and the feeling is growing stronger with every second. "We should land and check it out."

"That's not a good idea," Jesse protests. He leans forward and points towards the edge of the fog. "We can see the outpost from here. We can scan it and get a better look without putting ourselves at risk."

"There's something here," you tell him, and Rex gives you a sharp look. You shake your head, ignoring his concern, and focus on Jesse, doing your best to keep the doubt from showing on your face. "We need to find out what it is."

"General—"

"Jesse," Rex interrupts, and the other man sighs. He rubs the back of his neck, a frustrated look on his face, and he glances between the two of you.

"Alright, alright," he finally relents. He unbuckles his harness and stands, grabbing his helmet, pulling it over his head. "I'll do a quick sweep, and then we can head back. Sound good?"

"Perfect," you smile, and Jesse grunts, walking past the two of you, heading towards the ramp. You wait until he's out of earshot before looking over at Rex, and the moment your eyes meet, the concern radiating from him is overwhelming.

"Please, tell me that you're not feeling the same thing I'm feeling," he says quietly, and the desperation in his voice sends a pang through your heart. You hesitate, and he sighs, running a hand over his face. "Great."

"Rex..."

"What's the point of the Force if it can't warn you about these things?" he mutters, shaking his head. He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching, and his hands grip the harness tightly.

"It is warning me," you tell him, and his eyes fly open, meeting yours, his expression full of disbelief. "I can feel it. The Force is trying to tell me something. I just...I don't know what it is. I just know that I need to go down there."

You unbuckle your harness and stand, and Rex follows suit, his movements stiff and robotic. He pulls on his helmet and checks his blasters while you pull the rebreather over your nose and mouth. You give him a reassuring smile and rest your hand on his arm, giving it a light squeeze.

"I'm going to be fine," you assure him, and he shakes his head.

"No, you're not," he retorts. He looks at you, and you can sense his fear and frustration and anger. "Nothing ever goes right when we're together. Every time. Every damn time."

"Hey," you say sharply, and he huffs. "That's not true."

"It is," he mutters. His head drops, and his shoulders slump, the tension and anger leaving him. He lets out a tired sigh and turns towards the open hatch. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"It won't," you promise, and he scoffs, his brow furrowing. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Jesse returns, and the two of you turn towards him. He gives the two of you a quick look and holds up a finger.

"Okay, I did a quick sweep, and it looks like the place is empty," he reports. He taps the side of his helmet and shrugs. "Nothing on the thermal either. If anyone's down there, they're well hidden."

"We're still going," you say, and Jesse lets out an exasperated groan.

"I knew you were going to say that," he complains. He looks at Rex, and you can tell that the captain is rolling his eyes behind his visor. "Is she always like this?"

"Yes," Rex replies dryly. 

He tilts his head towards the hatch, and Jesse lets out a resigned sigh, leading the way down the ramp and onto the ground. You follow after him, stepping onto the gray surface, your boots sinking into the wet dirt. Rex is right behind you, and the three of you begin making your way towards the outpost.

The fog is thick, and it's difficult to see more than a few feet in any direction. You pull the hood of your robe up, the fabric covering your head and the top half of your face. The ground is uneven and soft, and the air dank and cold. 

A few steps into the fog, the visibility drops to almost nothing, and you find yourself relying on the Force to guide you. It's disorienting, and after a while, you're not entirely sure where you're going. Jesse's at the front of the group, and Rex is at your side, his blasters at the ready. Every few steps, the three of you stop and listen, scanning the area for any signs of life.

There's nothing.

The only sound is the muffled crunch of the ground beneath your boots and the soft rustling of the fog. It's unsettling, and you find yourself moving closer to Rex, his presence calming your nerves.

You can see his helmet tilt toward you, and you can sense his unease. He doesn't want you out here. He wants to turn around and go back to the ship. And if it were up to him, that's exactly what he would do.

But it's not.

You're the one in charge.

So, the three of you continue walking, the outpost growing closer and closer, the structure looming ahead of you. The gray stone walls are covered in moss and vines, and the wooden gate is open, hanging from its hinges. The interior of the compound is obscured by the fog, and you pause, your senses on high alert.

There's no sound. No movement. No signs of life.

"Jesse," you murmur, and he glances back at you. "You and Rex search the perimeter. I'll check inside."

"I don't think—"

"Just do it," you order, cutting him off, and he huffs, shaking his head.

"You heard the General," Rex says, and Jesse gives him a curt nod. "Let's go."

The two of them turn away and move along the edge of the wall, disappearing into the fog. You watch as they fade into the grayness, and then you take a deep breath, drawing your lightsaber and activating it. The blade ignites with a hum, the yellow glow illuminating the fog, and you step towards the open gate.

As you pass through the entrance, a chill runs down your spine. There's a feeling in the air, a dark energy surrounding the area. It's familiar, but you can't quite place it. It's a feeling that you've experienced before, but not here. Not in this place.

You pause, listening, searching for any signs of life, and when the silence continues, you step forward, heading towards the center of the compound. There are a handful of structures, most of which are dilapidated and falling apart. A few of them are nothing more than piles of rubble, the walls crumbling, the roof caving in. 

You've only taken a few steps when something out of the corner of your eye shifts. A dark shape moving in the distance. Your eyes dart towards the source, and you watch as a shadowy figure emerges from the fog, its movements slow and deliberate.

"Jesse? Rex?" you call out, and the figure stops. You take a cautious step towards it, and it vanishes.

"General!"

You turn towards the sound of Rex's voice, and the figure appears again. It's standing behind you, and when you look back, it's gone.

"Rex!" you shout, and you hear him calling out for you, his voice getting closer. The figure appears again, further away. It's tall and humanoid, its limbs long and spindly. It's facing away from you, and when you try to follow, it vanishes once more.

You hear a faint noise coming from the direction the figure disappeared. A soft tapping sound. It's faint and distant, but it's there. You turn towards the source, and the figure appears again. You make out the shape of a cape, a hood, and your hand tightens on your lightsaber.

"Hey!" you call out, and the figure spins around, the fog swirling, obscuring its features. The tapping sound continues, and the figure takes a step towards you. "Who are you? What do you want?"

You take a cautious step forward, and the figure vanishes, the tapping fading away. You wait for a moment, listening, and then the tapping returns, the sound growing louder. It's coming from somewhere close by, and when you try to follow the noise, the figure reappears. You spin towards it, and as soon as you do, the noise stops.

"This is ridiculous," you growl, and you take a step towards the figure, but before you can reach it, it disappears. The tapping returns, the noise even louder, the sound echoing off the walls of the buildings. It's close.

You move quickly, sprinting after it, your heart pounding. You can hear Rex and Jesse calling out for you, but you ignore them. The fog swirls and twists, and you follow the sound, the tapping growing louder and louder. It's coming from inside one of the buildings. You skid to a stop and look up. The building is smaller than the others, and the doorway is barely big enough for you to squeeze through.

"Come on," you murmur, and you push the door open, slipping inside. The tapping stops, and the room is completely silent. You look around, searching for any sign of the figure, and when you don't see anything, you let out a frustrated huff. "I know you're here. You wanted help. Well, I'm here. So, let's talk."

The silence stretches on, and then the sound returns, the tapping louder and faster than before. It's coming from below. From beneath the floor. You look down and realize that the floor isn't made of stone or wood. It's metal. It's a hatch.

You kneel and press your ear to the surface, the tapping getting louder, the noise echoing off the metal. There's a muffled thumping mixed in with the tapping. It's a steady rhythm. Like a heartbeat.

You grab the handle and yank, the hatch sliding open, revealing a ladder leading down into a dark pit.

"Oh, for Force's sake," you mutter.

"General! Where are you?"

"Rex!" you call out, and the noise stops, the silence deafening. "I'm over here."

You look down the ladder, and a few seconds later, Rex and Jesse emerge from the fog. They jog towards you, their blasters drawn, and when they get close enough, they slow down.

"What are you doing?" Rex asks. He looks down at the hatch and back to you, holstering his blasters and placing his hands on his hips. "You weren't thinking of going down there alone, were you?"

"...Maybe," you admit, and Rex's helmet tilts skyward.

"Of course, you were," he grumbles. He glances at Jesse, and the other man shrugs.

"She's got a death wish, sir," Jesse tells him. Rex lets out a resigned sigh, and Jesse leans closer, giving you a disapproving look. "Don't do anything stupid."

"When have I ever done anything stupid?" you ask. Rex and Jesse both snort, and you frown, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't think I like your attitude."

"We don't like your attitude," Rex retorts. He crouches and peers down the hole, and when he looks up, the annoyance in his voice is clear. "Well, we're not doing this without a plan. Or at least without some kind of idea about what's down there."

"It's some kind of tapping," you reply, and he gestures for you to elaborate. You huff and shrug. "There's a rhythm to it. And I keep seeing a figure in the fog. It's humanoid."

"A figure?" Jesse repeats, and he and Rex exchange a look. You raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to the side, waiting for one of them to speak. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head earlier?"

You scowl, your hands curling into fists, and you're about to tell him exactly what you think of his comment when Rex steps between the two of you. He holds up his hands and shakes his head.

"That's not helping," he says firmly. Jesse grumbles under his breath, and Rex glances over his shoulder at you. "What do you want to do?"

"I'm going down there," you tell him. You step towards the ladder and start climbing, and when Rex starts to protest, you hold up a finger, silencing him. "You can either come with me or not. Either way, I'm doing this."

Rex hesitates, and when he looks at Jesse, the other man just shrugs. He lets out an exasperated sigh and nods.

"Fine," he mutters. He points at Jesse. "Stay up here. If we're not back in thirty minutes, call for backup."

"Copy that," Jesse replies, and Rex climbs onto the ladder, following after you.

You descend into the darkness, the sound of the tapping getting louder and louder. When you reach the bottom, you step off the ladder, and Rex lands beside you. His helmet scans the room, and he reaches out, his fingers closing around your wrist. He pulls you behind him, his body shielding yours.

"Be careful," he whispers.

"Always am," you murmur, and his helmet swivels to look at you. You can feel his skepticism and amusement radiating from him, and he shakes his head, turning back to the darkness.

"Sure, you are," he chuckles. "I've seen the scars."

"That was one time," you protest, and he snorts, taking a step forward.

"No, it wasn't," he retorts.

"I thought you liked how reckless I am," you tease, and his helmet tilts, a low, rumbling growl escaping from the speakers. You bite your lip to keep from laughing, and when he turns his head, you give him a sweet smile. "You said it. Not me."

"That's not what I said," he mutters.

"Yes, it is," you laugh, and his hand tightens on your wrist, pulling you close. You stumble forward, bumping into him, and he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you against him.

"Be. Careful," he growls, his voice low and dangerous, and the sudden change in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. You look up at him and lick your lips, your mouth suddenly dry. "Promise me."

"I will," you whisper. The intensity of his stare is overwhelming, and you find yourself frozen, your breath catching in your throat. "I promise."

"Good," he murmurs, his voice softening. He releases his grip on your waist, his hand sliding up your back and resting between your shoulders, gently nudging you forward. "Come on."

The two of you walk side by side through the darkness, the sound of the tapping growing louder with every step. As the two of you move further into the tunnel, the darkness begins to give way, the walls illuminated by dim red lights. You glance at Rex, and he gives you a quick nod, gesturing for you to keep moving.

"It's an escape tunnel," he mutters. He moves closer to the wall and examines the lights, his helmet tilting towards the ground. "Probably goes all the way to the outpost."

"Why would they need an escape tunnel?"

"Maybe they were hiding from something," Rex replies. He stands and glances around the room. "Or someone."

The two of you continue walking, the tapping growing louder, the tunnel narrowing. You reach a junction, and the sound is coming from the left, the path sloping downward. Rex hesitates, and you nudge his arm, pushing him forward. He lets out a resigned sigh and follows after you.

As the two of you walk down the slope, the tapping becomes deafening, the sound bouncing off the walls. It's coming from a closed door up ahead. Rex draws his blaster, and you ignite your lightsaber, the yellow blade illuminating the area. The two of you reach the door and pause, listening. There's no movement, no sounds other than the tapping.

"You ready?" Rex asks, and you nod. He raises his blaster and places his hand on the door handle. "On three."

He counts down, and then the door swings open, revealing a small, dimly lit room. It's empty, and the only furniture is a table and chair. There's a tarp draped over the wall behind it, and the tapping is coming from beneath.

You glance at Rex, and he takes a cautious step inside. When nothing happens, he holsters his blaster and moves towards the tarp.

"What are you doing?" you ask, and he waves a dismissive hand.

"Just stay there," he orders.

You frown, your eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me what to do."

Rex sighs and shakes his head, grabbing the tarp and pulling it off the wall, revealing a series of monitors and control panels. There's a microphone on the table, and the source of the tapping is revealed. It's a small, cylindrical device attached to the microphone, and when Rex picks it up, the tapping stops.

He sets the device on the table and looks at the monitors, his helmet tilting to the side. You move towards him, and he points to the screens, showing you the messages and audio files.

"Someone was trying to lure people here," he murmurs. He flips through a few more files and lets out a disgusted huff. "Whoever it was must have figured that a fake distress call would bring us running."

"So, this is a trap?"

"Looks like it," Rex replies. He looks down at the device and tilts his head to the side. "And, judging by the fact that there's no sign of whoever put this here, I'm guessing that they got away. Guess we scared them off."

"Yeah," you mutter, and he turns to face you, his helmet lifting, his visor scanning your face.

"I know that tone," he says softly. You raise an eyebrow, and he folds his arms over his chest. "What is it?"

"I just..." you begin, and you trail off, letting out a frustrated sigh. You shake your head and lean against the table, rubbing your forehead. "This whole thing feels...off."

"Off?"

"It doesn't make sense," you tell him. "Why would anyone set up a fake distress signal and then leave? It's not like they could've known that we would come. Or even if we would. For all they knew, no one would hear their signal. Why waste the time and energy putting this all together?"

"Maybe they panicked," Rex suggests. "Maybe they didn't think things through."

"Maybe," you reply. You push away from the table and pace around the room, frowning. "But something about this feels...familiar. Like I've seen it before."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," you mutter. You stop and look at him, shaking your head. "It's just a feeling. A hunch. And I can't explain it."

"Okay," Rex says slowly, his voice hesitant. He pauses, and then he walks over to the tarp and grabs it, throwing it back over the wall, covering the monitors. "We'll talk to General Skywalker. See what he thinks. Maybe he can make sense of all this."

"Yeah," you agree. You walk past him, and he follows, the two of you heading back towards the ladder. The tapping starts up again, the sound echoing off the walls. Rex's hand reaches out, resting on the small of your back, his fingers pressing against the fabric of your robe. You look over at him, and his helmet tips toward the source, his voice low and soothing.

"Ignore it," he murmurs, and the two of you start walking, the sound fading away. "It's just a recording."

"I know," you whisper. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and as the two of you walk, his hand moves lower, his fingers brushing over your hip. The gesture is subtle, but it's enough to make your pulse race, a shiver running down your spine.

Your eyes flick to him, and Rex pulls away, clearing his throat.

"Sorry," he mutters. His voice is rough and strained, and he glances away, his hand running over the back of his neck. "Didn't mean to, uh...yeah."

You watch as he hurries towards the ladder, and you follow after him, biting back a grin. His flustered state is adorable, and the sight of him embarrassed and fidgety makes your heart melt. For a man who was inches away from kissing you only a few hours ago he's certainly acting shy.

"Don't worry about it," you call out, and Rex lets out a soft snort. He glances over his shoulder, his helmet tilting to the side, and you shrug. "I don't mind."

He looks at you for a long moment, and then he climbs onto the ladder and begins to ascend. You watch him go, a small smile on your face, before you shake your head.

"Get it together," you whisper to yourself. There are more important things to focus on than Rex and his adorable antics. Like finding out who was behind the distress signal.

With a determined huff, your hand grabs for the first rung of the ladder, but something stops you. You pause and listen, your senses heightening. There's something wrong. The tapping has stopped.

And then you see it.

The shadow.

It appears at the edge of your vision, the dark shape moving along the wall. You spin around, and it vanishes, the shadows stretching, enveloping the space. The red lights flicker, and when they do, you can see it.

It's humanoid. Tall. Spindly. Dressed in black. A hood covers its face, and a cape billows out behind it. The same figure that's been following you. The same one that attacked you ten years ago, the same one that you saw on the footage the night Yaddle died.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," you growl.

A low, raspy laugh fills the air, and the figure turns and walks away, disappearing into the darkness. You run after it, sprinting down the tunnel, watching as Dooku's retreating form vanishes into the blackness.

You reach the junction, this time taking the path to the right. You follow after him, the tunnel sloping upward until you reach another door. You draw your lightsaber and open it, the bright glow of the yellow blade illuminating the room.

Dooku is standing in the center of the space, his back to you, his hands clasped behind his back. He's wearing a long black cloak and a hood, and the light from your saber casts his shadow across the walls, the edges of his image elongated and distorted.

"You're pretty spry for an old man," you tell him, and his shoulders twitch, a low chuckle escaping his lips. He turns to face you, and when his hood falls, his features are illuminated.

"Still the same reckless girl," Dooku says, and he tilts his head to the side, his voice filled with amusement. "Always so eager to prove yourself."

"I don't have anything to prove to you," you retort, and his eyes narrow. His lips curl into a sneer, and his head lifts, his expression becoming haughty and condescending.

"Don't you?"

"No," you snap. You take a step towards him, and his smirk fades, his eyes narrowing. "But I'm curious. What are you doing here? Don't you have an entire army to run?"

"I could ask you the same question," Dooku replies. He looks at you and chuckles, shaking his head. "But I think we both know the answer. You came here because you felt something. A connection to me. To the Force."

"That's not true," you protest, but he ignores you.

"You wanted answers," he continues, his voice soft, his tone almost gentle. "Answers that no one else can provide. Answers that you desperately need."

"I don't want anything from you," you growl, pulling your shoto from your belt and igniting it. The twin blades flare to life, their glow reflecting off his skin. "Just stay still, and maybe this will hurt less."

Dooku takes a step towards you, and your stance shifts, your body moving into a defensive position. He chuckles and holds up his hands, stopping a few feet from you.

"Really, dear girl, you should learn some respect for your betters," he tells you, and you let out a frustrated sigh.

"I'm done playing games," you snap, and before he can react, you attack. 

You lunge towards him, swinging your lightsabers, and his blade ignites, blocking the blows. You press the attack, pushing him back, and he counters, the two of you trading strikes and parries. He's skilled, his movements graceful and elegant, and the longer the fight continues, the more he seems to be enjoying himself. It's as if your actions are fueling his pleasure.

"You've gotten better," Dooku tells you. "I'll give you that."

"Yeah, well, last time, you didn't fight fair," you retort, and he smirks.

"Neither did you," he counters. His lightsaber flicks, the blade moving in a blur, and you barely block the strike, the tip of his weapon grazing your shoulder. The fabric of your robe tears, and you hiss, the burning sensation making your blood boil.

"Bastard," you snarl, and the two of you lock blades, the light from the glowing swords reflecting off the walls, casting shadows across the room.

"Temper, temper," he tuts. He presses his weight into the hilt of his lightsaber, and the heat from the blades grows hotter, the tips of the hilts burning against your palms. "It's unbecoming."

"I'm not interested in a lesson in decorum from a murderer."

You shove him back and swing, forcing him to jump away, and you chase after him, unleashing a series of strikes and thrusts. The two of you dance around the room, the light from the sabers reflecting off the walls, and the battle quickly devolves into a duel, both of you matching the other's attacks, neither of you gaining an advantage.

As the minutes pass, your frustration grows, and the anger and hatred inside you builds. You lash out, and Dooku dodges, the tip of your blade cutting through his cloak, the fabric fluttering to the ground. It's a small victory, but it's enough to spur you on.

"That was expensive, you know," he drawls.

"Good," you snarl.

The two of you continue your dance, and as the fight progresses, his attacks become more vicious. He pushes you harder, his strikes growing quicker and more precise, and your defenses crumble, leaving you open. 

The tip of his blade slices through the sleeve of your robe, and the skin beneath burns, forcing you into dropping your shoto. You grit your teeth and parry, deflecting the next strike, and when the opportunity presents itself, you kick him in the stomach, sending him stumbling backwards.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunts.

"Stop talking and fight," you snap. You launch yourself at him, slamming into him and sending the two of you tumbling to the floor. You land on top of him, and you grab his collar, dragging him to his feet, slamming him into the wall. "Tell me why you're here."

"I have my reasons," he replies. His voice is calm and composed, his expression blank, unfeeling. You grip his collar tighter, and he lets out a soft chuckle. "You want to kill me, don't you? Go ahead. Try."

Your hand tightens, and you pull him away from the wall and throw him back, sending him flying into the opposite wall. He crumples to the ground, and you march towards him, your lightsaber raised.

"Stop. Talking," you growl. You level the blade at his throat, and when your eyes meet, his expression changes. A cold, cruel smile spreads across his face, and his gaze becomes sharp, calculating.

"I knew it," he murmurs, and your grip on the hilt of your lightsaber wavers, a wave of unease washing over you.

"What are you talking about?"

"You've changed," he tells you. His eyes narrow, and he leans closer, his breath tickling your cheek. "You are not the same Padawan I knew."

"I've learned a few things since then," you mutter.

"Oh, yes," Dooku chuckles. He tilts his head to the side, and his eyes move over your face, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I can see that."

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and a shiver runs down your spine. He's staring at you like he's seeing you for the first time. His gaze is piercing, his expression calculating, and you can't help but wonder what he's looking for. Whatever it is, he seems pleased.

"Why did you kill her?" you demand. Better to keep him talking. The longer he's distracted, the more likely it is that the others will arrive and help you deal with him. "What did she ever do to you?"

"It's not about what she did," Dooku replies. His voice is soft, and his eyes flick to your lightsaber. "It's about what she could have done. The potential that she represented."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's no need to be coy," he tells you. His eyes return to your face, and his gaze is almost hungry, his lips curling into a smirk. "I know you've figured it out."

"She was in your way," you say. His expression changes, his smirk fading, and his gaze hardens. "She knew too much. She knew you were planning on betraying the Republic."

"Close," he murmurs. His head tips to the side, and his gaze sweeps over you, a look of admiration in his eyes. "But not quite. You've come so far, but there's still so much you don't understand."

"Then enlighten me," you snap, and his brow furrows, a confused frown forming on his face. "Tell me why. Why did you kill her?"

Dooku’s eyes narrow, and his gaze becomes distant, as if he's seeing something far beyond the room. He doesn't seem to be aware of the fact that he's about to die. As if he's reliving some memory, some experience that is only known to him. For a split-second, he looks almost vulnerable. And, in that instant, you feel something.

He's afraid.

And whatever he's afraid of, it has nothing to do with you.

"It's not just about her," Dooku says, his voice a low murmur. You frown and lean closer, your lightsaber still pointed at his throat, and when his eyes refocus, they lock onto yours. "Do you know why I left the Order, young one?"

"Because you're a power-hungry monster?" you suggest, and he shakes his head.

"I left because they refused to see the truth," he replies. The intensity in his gaze is unnerving, and you swallow, doing your best to keep the tremble from your hand. “I left because the Jedi are flawed."

You stare at him, unsure how to respond. Your anger and hatred are still there, but there's something else, too. He’s not saying anything you don’t already know. The Jedi are flawed. They are imperfect. And yet, somehow, you know that what he's saying isn't coming from a place of malice or spite. He's speaking the truth. Or, at least, what he believes to be the truth. And, for some reason, that scares you.

"You're lying," you tell him, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"The Council is weak. The Order is blind. They've lost sight of what it means to be a Jedi," he continues. He shifts, the tip of your blade brushing against his skin, but he doesn't react. "They've become nothing more than a band of soldiers, fighting for a Republic that's dying."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the Order is corrupt. That the Republic is broken.” Dooku leans forward, and you can't help but notice how close his throat is to your lightsaber. All it would take is a twitch, and his head would roll. You could end it. Right now. The thought is tempting, but something holds you back. You want answers. "The war is pointless. And, no matter what happens, we will lose. We are fighting a losing battle. The Republic is finished. 

"Your master knew this. Yaddle was one of the few who believed in the true purpose of the Jedi Order. One of the few who understood the truth."

"That's not—"

"She was a good person," he interrupts. The warmth in his expression takes you by surprise, and a pang of guilt hits you, making your chest ache. He looks at you, his brow furrowing. "Don't blame yourself. What happened was necessary."

"Necessary?"

"She was wise and strong, and she saw things that others could not," he explains. His tone is soft and reverent, his gaze distant, almost wistful. "And she cared for you very much."

Your heart skips a beat, and a lump forms in your throat, a rush of emotions flooding your system. You bite the inside of your cheek and clench your jaw, trying to ignore the pain and the fear and the sadness, but it's too much. The pressure in your chest is overwhelming, and you can feel the tears stinging your eyes.

"What does that have to do with anything?" you ask, your voice breaking. You can't bring yourself to look at him, and your vision blurs, tears filling your eyes.

"She would want you to survive," Dooku says, his voice gentle, his gaze locked onto yours. "No matter what."

The pressure in your chest grows, and a tear escapes, rolling down your cheek. You try to wipe it away, but it's too late. He sees it. And, somehow, his expression softens even further, a look of understanding in his eyes.

"You and I have more in common than you think," he murmurs. You blink, your eyes widening, and he gives you a knowing smile. "We both understand the truth. We both know what it means to sacrifice. We've both witnessed the corruption and hypocrisy of those we once trusted. And we've both experienced the pain of betrayal."

"The Council didn't betray me," you say, and his brow furrows, his head tipping to the side.

"Did they not?"

"No," you reply, the conviction in your voice wavering. "They didn't."

"I think we both know that's not true," he counters. "They abandoned you. They let you suffer and struggle alone, and when you needed their help, they turned their backs on you. Just as they did with Yaddle."

"The Council had their reasons," you insist. "They did what they thought was best."

"For themselves," Dooku retorts. His eyes narrow, and a look of disdain crosses his face, his jaw clenching. "Not for you."

"You're wrong," you tell him, but even as the words leave your lips, a part of you knows that he's right. The Council didn't believe you. They didn't believe in you. They let you flounder, and they never did a thing to help. Even Obi-Wan had abandoned you, and while he'd tried to apologize, it hadn't changed anything.

"You know it's true," he says, his voice barely a whisper. He stares at you, and you stare back, your mind racing. "You feel it. Deep down, you know I'm right."

"I'm a Jedi. I can't turn my back on them," you say. "Not when there are innocent people suffering."

"And yet, you're here, chasing after a ghost, searching for a reason to hate the ones who hurt you," Dooku replies. You open your mouth to protest, but he raises a hand, silencing you. "I am not judging you. I understand. You have been betrayed, and you are in pain. I can sense it. It radiates from you, filling the air."

"You have no idea what I'm going through," you mutter.

"I can assure you, dear girl, I do," he tells you, and his eyes move over your face, studying you, his gaze curious and contemplative. "You remind me of myself. We are alike, you and I. We both seek justice and answers. We both question the world around us, and we both understand the sacrifices that must be made in order to achieve peace."

"I'm not like you," you say. You shake your head, and a bitter laugh escapes your lips, your heart pounding in your chest. "I'm nothing like you."

"Aren't you?"

"I'm not a murderer."

"You've killed before," Dooku counters. He stares at you, his expression unreadable. "And, if given the chance, you would do it again."

Your grip on your lightsaber falters, and the blade lowers, the tip scraping against the stone floor. Your eyes meet his, and the weight of his words settles over you, a feeling of unease and dread filling the pit of your stomach.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you tell him, but the lie is obvious. You can hear it in your voice, feel it in the way your heart races, and Dooku smiles, a hint of satisfaction creeping into his expression.

"You may not have the blood on your hands, but it's there," he murmurs. He stands and steps towards you, his hand resting on your shoulder, his touch gentle, almost comforting. "There are no more lies between us. We know the truth. We see what the Order has become, what the Republic has become. We see their flaws and their faults, and we know what must be done. The question is, are you willing to do what needs to be done?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head, but he squeezes your shoulder, his grip tightening.

"You can't hide from the truth," he says. His voice is soft, his tone soothing. "You can't ignore it. The Force brought you here, to me, because we are kindred spirits. We are alike. We understand each other."

"Stop saying that," you snap, and his fingers dig into your shoulder, his eyes boring into yours.

"You have been betrayed," he says, his voice cold and clinical, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. "You are alone. And you are angry. The Order has taken everything from you, and now, they are taking your life. They have failed you, and they will continue to fail you. They will not stop until you are dead."

"I'm not going to let you manipulate me," you tell him. You push his hand away and step back, your lightsaber raised, and he lets out a resigned sigh, his gaze never leaving yours. "You murdered Yaddle, and you tried to kill me. That's all there is to it. I'm going to kill you."

Dooku doesn't react. He just stares at you, his gaze intense and steady. A part of you expects him to try and reason with you, but he doesn't. He doesn't argue or try to change your mind. He just looks at you, his eyes moving over your face, studying you.

"Maybe," he allows. He straightens his back and squares his shoulders. "But not today."

With a flourish of his cape, he steps towards you, his lightsaber igniting with a hiss. The crimson blade hums as it slices through the air, and you react, your own blade coming up to block his attack.

The two of you dance around each other, trading strikes and parries. The battle is brutal and fierce, both of you giving it your all.

It's only after a few minutes that you realize that Dooku isn't even trying. He's playing with you, using his skill and experience to taunt and provoke you. And, while his attacks are strong, they are easily blocked or deflected.

He's not taking this seriously.

He's toying with you.

He wants to see what you're capable of.

As if he's testing you.

"You're holding back," you accuse. He slashes at your chest, and you step to the side, avoiding the blow. You lunge, your blade arcing towards his head, and he blocks, the humming blades locking together, the light from their tips illuminating his face. "I can feel it."

"Of course, I am," Dooku replies. He spins, and the two of you lock blades, his eyes locking onto yours. "I have no wish to hurt you."

"You're a fucking liar," you snarl, and he pushes you away, sending you stumbling backwards.

"On the contrary, I am the most honest man you will ever meet," he says, and the arrogance in his tone makes you bristle.

You swing at him, and he steps back, dodging the blow. His footwork is perfect, his movements fluid and graceful, and the longer the fight goes on, the more confident and relaxed he becomes.

It's like he's in a different world.

He's not fighting you.

He's playing a game.

"I should've known that this would end in tears," he sighs. He lunges, his lightsaber sweeping towards your head, and you duck, the tip of his blade slicing through the air above you. "You aren't ready."

"Shut up," you snap. You step forward and swing, but he's faster than you, his body twisting out of the way, his cape billowing behind him. The fabric brushes against your cheek, and he kicks, his boot connecting with your hip.

The force of the blow sends you stumbling, and you nearly fall, your balance shifting. You grit your teeth and brace yourself, your lightsaber moving into a defensive position.

"You're still angry," he tells you, and he shakes his head, his eyes narrowing. "I can sense it."

"Of course, I'm angry," you retort. You slash at him, and he blocks, his blade coming up to deflect your strike. "You tried to kill me. You murdered Yaddle."

"That's not what I meant," he replies, and before you can react, he lunges, his blade coming down. You scramble, barely managing to hold onto your saber and bring it up in time to block his next strike.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're not angry at me," he says, and you freeze, his words sinking in. Your eyes widen as he tilts his head to the side, his gaze moving over your face. "You're angry at yourself."

"Shut up," you growl, but the anger in your voice is fading, a sense of dread filling the pit of your stomach.

"You're still angry that she died," he continues, and you can't bring yourself to speak, a lump forming in your throat. "You're angry that she left you. You're angry that she never came back."

"Stop," you whisper, but he ignores you, his gaze boring into yours.

"You're angry that the Order betrayed you. That they left you alone," he says, his tone sympathetic, almost apologetic. "You're angry that the Jedi refused to believe you. That they turned their backs on you. And now, they expect you to fight for them."

"They didn't abandon me," you insist, but even as the words leave your lips, the image of Obi-Wan's retreating form flashes in your mind, his last words echoing in your ears.

"Didn't they?"

"They just...didn't listen," you say. You blink, a tear escaping, rolling down your cheek. "They didn't...understand."

"Because you wouldn't tell them the truth," he replies.

His voice is soft, gentle. It's soothing, and for a split-second, it feels like he cares. It feels like he understands. And a part of you wants to believe him. A part of you wants to trust him. But another part of you knows that he's manipulating you, trying to trick you.

And it's working.

Dooku takes another step forward, his shadow stretching across the floor, the light from your blades flickering in the dark.

"You were afraid. Of the power you wielded. Of the truth. Of yourself."

He's closer now, and you can't bring yourself to move. To resist. To do anything but stand there, staring at him.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible. "For what I did to her. For what I did to you."

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You can't breathe. Your chest is tight, and your lungs are burning, and you can't bring yourself to move.

"You can't run from this," he says. His eyes meet yours, and he shakes his head, a sad smile forming on his lips. "No matter how hard you try. No matter where you go. But if you let me, I can help you."

"Help me?"

"You're not a Jedi. Not anymore," he tells you. He moves closer, and you take a step back, your body acting on instinct, trying to get away from him. But he follows, his steps measured and slow. "Not after what happened."

"You did this," you whisper, and he lets out a soft chuckle, his expression changing, a look of admiration and pride on his face. His eyes flicker to the scars stretching across your hands, and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"No," he says. "I didn't. You did."

He's only a few feet away now, and the shadows stretch, wrapping around him, engulfing him. The air grows cold, and the light from the blades begins to fade, and the darkness grows, consuming everything.

"We can't control our power. Our emotions. They control us," he tells you. "You know that better than anyone."

You close your eyes, and for a split-second, it feels like the darkness is wrapping around you, cocooning you. It's warm and safe and familiar. You want to stay here, to let go and just drift away, but a small part of you is screaming. A small part of you knows that something isn't right.

Something pulls at your senses, tugging at the edges of your awareness. It's like a whisper, a soft murmur in the back of your mind. A feeling. An emotion. Fear. Worry.

And it's growing.

"They took everything from you," Dooku says, and your eyes snap open, your vision focusing on his face. He looks different now, older, his skin withered and wrinkled, his hair thin and gray. The warmth in his eyes is fading, replaced by a look of disdain and disgust. "But you can take it back."

He's holding out his hand, his fingers splayed, his palm facing you. It's an invitation. A temptation. And you know what it means. If you accept his offer, everything will change.

You look at his hand, and your gaze flickers to his face, to his eyes. They're darker now, colder. They're not the same. And you know that whatever he's offering isn't real. You're not sure if it ever was.

You stare at his hand, and your mind races, a million thoughts flashing through your mind. But, as the seconds pass, one thought becomes clear, one word echoing in your mind.

"No."

"Very well," he sighs. He steps towards you, his voice calm and level. "If that is your decision, then I have no choice but to—"

You reach out, calling your shoto, and it flies into your open palm, igniting with a loud snap-hiss. Dooku's eyes widen, and his lightsaber springs to life, the red blade humming, the light from the weapon casting shadows across his face.

"Don't," he warns, but it's too late.

You launch yourself at him, and his lightsaber comes up, blocking your blow. The two of you trade strikes and parries, the sounds of the clashing blades echoing off the walls. You spring up, swinging your blade, and he blocks the attack, the red and yellow blades hissing and crackling as they grind against each other.

"You're making a mistake," he tells you.

"I'm done listening to you," you retort.

You push him back, and he stumbles, catching himself, his gaze narrowing. The two of you square off, and the anger inside you burns hotter, brighter. Your fear and frustration fuel your rage, and you attack, unleashing a series of wild, erratic strikes, each blow more vicious and brutal than the last.

Dooku counters, his expression becoming serious, his movements growing quicker, more precise. He's no longer playing games, and as the fight continues, you can't help but notice the look of concern in his eyes. He's worried. He's afraid.

He's afraid of you.

He should be.

Because in that instant, all of your fear and pain and rage converge, coalescing into a single, blinding thought.

He needs to die.

You rush towards him, and he meets you, the two of you locked in a deadly dance, your lightsabers flashing and hissing. You press the attack, driving him back, and he blocks your strikes, his blade moving with a grace and precision that leaves you breathless.

Your vision blurs, and the sounds around you grow distant, muffled. It's like the whole world is fading, dissolving, and all that's left is him. His eyes. His blade. And the opportunity that's presenting itself.

A chance to end this.

To kill him.

The two of you are locked together, neither of you able to break free. You push harder, your muscles straining, your bones creaking. Your body is on fire, burning from the inside out, and you can feel the sweat rolling down your back, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

The pressure is unbearable. You can feel his blade digging into your own, cutting into the hilt, and you know that if you don't act soon, you'll lose. You grit your teeth, and his lips twitch into a smirk.

"You can't beat me, girl," he sneers, his voice low, taunting.

You open your mouth to retort when the sound of blasterfire erupts in the hallway outside. You glance towards the door, and when you do, Dooku shoves you, sending you stumbling backwards. He lunges towards you, and your instincts kick in, your blade coming up to block his strike.

The hot sting of pain erupts in your hand as his blade slices through the hilt of your shoto, severing the weapon in two. You watch in horror as the halves fall to the ground, the plasma blade sputtering out. Dooku kicks them away, and you back up, your remaining lightsaber raised, the bright glow casting shadows across the walls.

"I offered you a way out," he tells you. “I will not suffer even a Jedi like yourself to live in ignorance."

He steps towards you, and as he does, a series of blaster bolts slam into the door. The hulking form of a B2 teeters and falls backwards, taking the door with it.

The room fills with smoke and dust, and you cough, waving your hand in front of your face, trying to clear the air. You can barely make out the shadowy shapes of Rex and Jesse as they enter, their blasters raised.

The two men take aim, and Dooku reacts, the crimson blade of his lightsaber blocking the incoming barrage. He turns, his cape billowing out behind him, and the red beam of his weapon flashes, deflecting the shots, the bolts ricocheting off the walls.

Jesse ducks and rolls, and as he does, Rex runs towards you, his arm wrapping around your waist. He pulls you away, dragging you behind him, his body shielding yours. As the two of you move, Jesse unloads, the volley of shots forcing Dooku back, the barrage keeping him on the defensive.

Rex grabs your wrist and tugs, pulling you towards the exit. As the two of you rush out into the hallway, a series of explosions ripple through the room, the stone walls trembling. You look over your shoulder, and Dooku emerges from the cloud of dust and smoke, his blade flashing. Jesse fires again, but the Count deflects the shots, the bolts slamming into the walls.

"Move," Rex barks, and the three of you take off running, racing down the corridor. Dooku gives chase, and the crimson beam of his lightsaber streaks through the air, the heat from the weapon scorching the stone.

You run as fast as you can, your chest heaving, the rage inside you burning hotter with every step. He killed Yaddle. He murdered her. And he was the one who attacked you. He was the one who tried to kill you. Now, he's trying to kill you again.

"I'm going to kill him," you growl, and Rex's grip tightens, his voice low and harsh.

"Don't," he snaps. "Focus on getting out of here."

"He has to die," you snarl. You pull against him, but his hold on you is iron-clad. "Let me go. I'm going to kill him."

"No," Rex growls, and you glare at him, a fire raging inside you.

"I have to do this," you tell him, your voice cracking, your hands balling into fists. "I'm going to make him pay."

"You can't," he snaps. He tightens his grip on you, his fingers digging into your skin, and he pushes you ahead of him, guiding you forward. "Not like this."

The three of you round a corner, and a series of blaster bolts slam into the wall to the side, sending fragments of stone and debris flying. Jesse spins and returns fire, and as the two men exchange shots, Rex takes advantage of the distraction, grabbing your arm and yanking you towards him, the two of you stumbling into the next room.

"I can," you insist, and Rex grabs your shoulders, shaking you.

"No, you can't," he snaps. "Look at me. You can't do this."

His tone makes you stop, and you look up at him, a flicker of doubt creeping in. His helmet tilts towards you, his visor scanning your face, and his hands move up, cradling your cheeks.

"I need you to listen to me," he says, his voice urgent and pleading. "I know how much Yaddle meant to you. I know what she was to you. But if you go after him, you'll die. You can't beat him. Not alone. Not like this. Please."

"Rex—"

"Listen to me," he interrupts. He moves closer, and you can hear his ragged breathing through his helmet. "I'm begging you. I need you to be here with me. I need you to come home."

His words strike a chord, and the anger inside you begins to ebb, slowly giving way to something else. Something deeper. You stare at him, and his head tips forward, his visor resting against your forehead.

"Come home," he repeats, his voice barely audible, and your chest aches, a lump forming in your throat.

"I..."

You can't finish the thought. You can feel the fear in his voice, the pain, the desperation. He's scared. Terrified. And it's because of you. Because he cares about you. He needs you.

You swallow hard and nod, and Rex presses his forehead against yours, his body relaxing with a shaky sigh.

"Thank you," he breathes. He strokes his thumb along the line of your jaw, and when he pulls away, his gaze holds yours, his voice laced with regret. "We'll get him, I promise. But not like this."

"Okay," you whisper, and Rex nods, his helmet tilting towards the ground. You place a hand on his chest, waiting for him to meet your gaze again before you speak. "I trust you."

He looks at you for a long moment, searching your eyes. Then, he nods, his shoulders straightening.

"I'll make sure we get him," he tells you. "I promise."

You give him a weak smile, and he pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you, his body enveloping yours. He squeezes you, his grip almost crushing, before he pulls away, his helmet nodding to the doorway.

"Let's get out of here," he says, and you follow him, the two of you sprinting out of the room, leaving Dooku and his men behind. Jesse catches up to you, his blaster still raised, and the three of you continue running, heading back towards the main corridor.

As you race down the hall, Rex's words linger in your mind. He was right. Dooku was too powerful. If you went after him now, there was no way you would survive. And even if you did, what would you be fighting for?

Vengeance.

It wasn't enough. It never would be. Not for Yaddle.

But she wasn't all you had left. There was another reason.

You didn't want to die.

You didn't want Rex to lose you.

You didn't want to hurt him.

So, you ran. You ran as fast as you could. And as you did, a single word echoed in your mind, repeating itself over and over again.

Home.

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[nightingale-ghost-writer]

141 Headcanons - The Five Love Languages

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon has been so severely abused for so much of his life that any form of love is just shocking and hard to accept for a long, long time

It takes a lot of time for him to let anyone love him at all. A LOT of time.

Touch would have to be his number one, though. He mostly hates to be touched by people, but once he has a taste of gentle touches, he can’t get enough

For the longest time, the only touch he got was being beaten, shoved, pulled, and manhandled. Enter his military career. Now, any intent to touch is intent to harm

Enter you. Whether it be brushing a hand across his shoulders as you pass, nudging him when something is funny, squeezing his hands or shoulders in reassurance, wrapping yourself in his arms, or wrapping him in yours, your touches have only ever sought to bring comfort to one or both of you

It goes both ways. Once upon a time, his hands were only for hurting other people. But now that he’s been shown physical love, it’s his favorite way to show love, too

Anytime he can, he wants to be touching you, he’ll put his hand on your back, his arm around your shoulders, or his personal favorite: have you curled up in his lap

Just the fact that you WANT to be close to him makes him feel safe and wanted and loved

He even finds himself reaching out to Johnny on occasion now, though he’ll never admit it

It still takes trust and a LOT of time for him to actually let someone close enough to touch him, though 

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny values quality time above all else, though touch is a close, close second

Like Simon, he doesn’t let people too close. He banters and blusters, but few ever make it into the circle he would call his actual “friends”

When he meets you, being around you becomes as important as breathing. Wherever you are is where he wants to be. Whatever you’re doing is what he wants to do

Ghost teases him that he’s like a puppy (he’s not wrong)

You need help moving furniture? He’s there. If something happened? He’s the one you call, and he’s on the phone or on his way until he knows you’re okay. Shopping? Or better yet, cooking? He’ll read the cookbook to you

Speaking of cooking, dinner dates are his forte. He loves taking you somewhere nice to show you that you’re worth his time and money (and to hold your hand). But mostly, he just wants to listen to you and talk with you

Every dinner, while he’s home, is an at-the-table affair so you can both share what’s going on in your lives

And after every dinner is cuddling until bed, unless other activities take priority *wink wink*

You planning time together and asking him about missions makes him feel like the luckiest man alive, because it shows him that you're just as interested in him as he is in you

And of course it doesn’t hurt when you can’t take your hands off him. That’s quality time on a whole new level

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle, soft-spoken man that he is, responds the best to words of affirmation

He’s confident enough, but there’s something about being told when he’s doing things right that really sets his mind and heart at ease

Whether it be on mission or at home, he likes to know he’s not off-base when he thinks he’s done things right

Part of why he and Price are so close is that Price always lets him know how he’s doing

Nothing boosts his confidence like you appreciating him vocally, whether it be for helping you cook or clean or doing the grocery shopping

Obviously, there’s one area of home life that vocal praise means even more

One of his favorite things is coming home to you to hear “I missed you” and “I’m so glad you came back to me”

“I love you” undoes him every time, and it’s his favorite thing to say to you. It isn’t said lightly

He loves with words of affirmation, too

“This meal is delicious” and “thank you for doing my laundry” and “I’m so grateful to have you in my life” are common phrases in your home

John Price

John is old-fashioned. Acts of service are his favorite way to be loved, and gift-giving is his favorite way to give love

With his team, he always makes sure they have the things they need to be comfortable on mission (tea to calm Ghost’s, earplugs so Gaz can sleep, puzzles or some such to occupy Soap’s idle hands)

With you? Birthdays, anniversaries, Valentine’s? You’ll be getting flowers on every one

You’ll probably get flowers just sending him to the grocery store, too

When he travels, he picks up various little things for you he thinks you’ll like

When you need something done, he does it

He does whatever his team needs, too. On or off mission

When you get gifts for him, he doesn’t much care what they are. It’s the thought that counts

He still uses the wallet you got him when you started dating all those years ago

He feels the most loved and cared for when he comes home after a mission to a hot meal, his favorite sweats laid out, and a nice back rub from you

[damned-punk]

Setting Sail (Kidd x Reader x Killer)

@gratefulcheeses Kidd Pirate’s Month 2025 🏴‍☠️

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Content Warning: death, mourning, language

Content Description: you pick up the pieces with Kidd and Killer following the loss of Victoria

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You’d arranged to meet with your three best friends for lunch as usual. Kidd, Killer, and Victoria sat around the table awaiting your arrival, each impatiently holding themselves off from devouring the food that they’d brought. You could hear their bickering before you could even reach the door, Kidd and Killer’s laughter undoubtedly being directed at Victoria. She’d always been a messy eater and today wasn’t any different, both her face and shirt were covered in the brown sauce of her noodles.

“I’m pretty sure the food is supposed to go in your mouth.”, Kidd teased, Victoria’s face red from embarrassment.

“Fuck you, Eustass.”, she cursed, slinging a stray noodle at him.

“I would give you another shirt to wear, but I’m sure you’d ruin it too.”, Killer prodded further, her frustration surmounting.

You were just about to join in when she reached over and slapped the two of them across the face. She was beyond pissed as there had been quite a lot of teasing lately and despite her comments in passing that they needed to watch it, they just wouldn’t stop. A part of her knew that they were just kidding but the rage that all of their comments had built up within her had finally bubbled over. She left her mess on the table, brushing against your shoulder as she ran out the door with tears in her eyes.

“Assholes.”, you scolded them, “What was that all about?”

“Shut up and sit down, I’m not in the mood.”, Kidd huffed with his arms crossed.

You could tell that her outburst had upset them. The four of you picked on each other ruthlessly but it was always in good fun. You wondered if something else was going on, it wasn’t uncommon for one of you to need time cooling down but to leave in tears was another thing entirely. It wasn’t safe to go out alone, she knew that. Kidd and Killer’s reputation on the island was the only thing that spared the two of you and even then, it all depended on the political climate.

Kidd had moved up rather quickly, Killer along with him, but you tended to stay out of those things. You’d always support your friends as you trusted their judgement when things got serious, but this was all supposed to be temporary. You didn’t see a point in involving yourself in something just because Kidd was the boss. You already had to put up with his loud mouth, you certainly didn’t need to give him another excuse to mouth off.

“I should go talk to her.”, you said after thinking things over for a few minutes, “Maybe I can convince her to come back.”

“Don’t convince her, let her come back on her own.”, Killer retorted, his blonde bangs hiding his expression from view.

“I don’t care what you do, she’s too soft.”, Kidd barked in annoyance.

“You and I both know that you don’t mean that.”, he rolled his eyes but didn’t protest which was all the confirmation you needed.

It took a while to find her, but she eventually showed up at the tiny shack that the two of you shared to sleep in. She looked exhausted, her eyes red and puffy.

“You okay?”, you asked softly in an attempt to start the conversation.

“I’m done.”, she asserted, “I’m over it, I’m over them, and I’m done.”

“Victoria-“, you started but she cut you off almost immediately.

“(Y/N), you can’t honestly stand there and tell me that you want to keep living like this.”, she continued on, “I care about them and I want all of us to get out of here one day, but I can’t keep up anymore. Not like this.”

“What are you saying? They were just fucking around, you and I know better than anyone that they didn’t mean it.”, you tried to level with her.

She flickered her teary gaze between your eyes and took off out the door into the hellscape that was the South Blue. Days went by and neither you, Kidd, nor Killer had heard anything from her. You sat awake at night, waiting on her to bust through the door but she never did. It had finally come down to the point that there was nothing left to eat or drink in the shack at all, you had no choice but to scrape up some money and venture to the market. You picked out some of Victoria’s favorite foods, making sure to grab the noodles that she always liked for when she returned.

“Take my advice kid…”, the cashier spoke as he bagged up your groceries, “I know you come here alone a lot, but I think you should start bringing someone with you. They found a little girl about your age beaten to death down by the coast, it was horrible.”

“What did she look like? Did they know her name?”, you asked quickly, your heart beating out of your chest.

“She had freckles and short hair, I think they said something like Vicky or maybe Victoria.”, he handed you the grocery bags, “Officials are speculating gang violence, it’s disgusting.”

You silently walked down the street, your entire body feeling numb. Going back to the only two people you had left in this world, you trekked to Kidd and Killer’s hideout only to find it empty. You knew exactly where they were and what they were doing. It took days for them to find everyone but each rumor you heard was as gruesome as you’d expected. You sat alone for nights on end, your face constantly drenched in tears and sweat. At this point, all the rage and anger had passed leaving only mourning in their wake.

Kidd and Killer eventually did return and they’d brought a whole group of people back with them, but it didn’t feel right. A piece had been clipped from the three of you, everything felt incomplete. As soon as your eyes landed on them, you couldn’t control your sobs. Their hands were cut up, their bodies bruised. They’d taken care of everyone who had anything to do with what happened to her. The whole thing was so fucked up and you could only hope that the guilt wouldn’t consume them.

It somewhat surprised you to see how much of a leader Kidd had turned out to be. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in him, you just didn’t expect it to happen so early. He and Killer had taken the reigns of the entire underworld in the South Blue and decimated anyone who stood in their way. It was as equally impressive as it was terrifying. They’d gained reputations for behaving like wild dogs, the talk being that they ripped Victoria’s killer and his crew limb from limb.

“There’s nothing left for us here.”, Kidd said out of the blue one day, the two of you sat on the sand and watching waves crash against the shore.

You glanced over at him, studying his face and how his amber eyes reflected the lingering rays of sunlight on the horizon.

“I’ve decided we’re going to sea, got a ship lined up and everything.”, he explained with a serious expression, “You better get ready to start calling me Captain if you’re coming.”

You flicked his ear, a small smile cracking across his intense features. He bumped you with his shoulder, prompting you to lean against him. You had a love/hate relationship with the South Blue. There were no opportunities and your life had its fair share of hardship, but it was still the place that you had been born. It was the place that Victoria was buried, going with him felt like leaving it all behind. Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing, you knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t want you to dwell on the loss. She’d undoubtedly tell you to take any chance to get off that island, Kidd and Killer being no exception despite what had happened.

“Have you named the ship yet?”, you asked after thinking for a few moments.

“No.”, he answered, glancing down at you, “Did you have something in mind?”

“How about the Victoria Punk?”, you suggested, his entire body stiffening.

He was silent and when you finally heard him sniffle, your own tears welled in tandem. You squeezed his hand, you hadn’t witnessed him be vulnerable like this before.

“I like it.”, he said after several minutes, “Captain Kidd of the Victoria Punk.”

“You’re such a dork.”, you teased, giving another playful shove to his arm to lighten the mood.

Maybe things would work out in the end. In this moment, only time would tell.

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[backseatsoldier]

"Broken", Not Stupid - 11

Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC (13)

CW: Oemgaverse; cult-like situation; dehumanization; selling children to a cult

Author's Note: Ope, forgot to add this- just wanted to drop a reminder that 13 has an ask blog now! @ask13-cod :D she'll ocassionally reblog bits of her story but will mostly be answering any asks <3 currently she's open to name suggestions!

"Johnny can be... a lot."

Simon's voice pulls me from my thoughts and I turn to look at him.

"Is that why you're so worried about making sure I'm ok with having him there today?"

"Yeah, mostly. That and you've only recently met me. Another alpha so soon could be a lot." He pauses, glancing at me. "If he gets to be too much, just let me know."

"I'm capable of setting my own boundaries," I snort, smilng. "But I understand why you're offering. It's your job as my alpha and all that."

Just as I turn to face the road again, I see Simon's forehead crease. Did I say something wrong? It is his job as my alpha to step in where I can't. Why is saying that out loud upsetting?

Eh. He'll bring it up if it's really a problem.

But what if I truly upset him?

The omega in my head paws at her enclosure and I scowl slightly. I am so not in the mood for her today so I push her back further.

What the hell do they feed these guys?!

"Johnny," the Scotsman grins down at me as he greets me. "Nice to meet you, 13."

"It's nice to meet you too," I greet him from slightly behind Simon.

I'm not entirely sure why I'm back here, honeslty. Johnny seems really nice. Even if he seems a bit like he's buzzing with energy - as expected from what Simon said earlier.

"Alright?" Simon asks me as soon as Johnny's attention is drawn to a candy wall in the shop.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?" Simon insists, eyebrows creasing together just enough to notice.

"I don't know? Just... nervous, I guess?" I offer hesitantly.

Maybe it's the knowledge that this is Simon's best friend and I'm supposed to be Simon's omega so there's this... need for approval.

No.

No, absolutely not. I don't need anyone's approval. What the hell was that? Damn omega brain.

"I'm fine. What's our first to-do?"

Simon studies me quietly for a moment before nodding toward the rest of the shop.

"Figured you might want to find yourself some clothes of your own. There's a few shops available for it, and for supplies for your nest. I'm not sure when you'll start your-"

"We can talk about that later and not in public," I cut him off abruptly and glance around the shop to see if anybody noticed what he was on about.

"Understood," he says with a firm nod. "I'm not good with fashion, but if you'd like input I can try."

I shrug at him and wander toward the nearest rack of clothes to slowly flip through them. This shop is full of... bright colors. Nothing is really catching my interest, honestly, but I continue looking just in case.

Toward the back of the store, there's a small circle rack of light grey tshirts. I begin thumbing through the different prints before coming across a tshirt with a white crescent moon printed on it. A smile spreads across my face as I hold it up. It's has a light and soft, cotton-y texture and the sleeves are cuffed.

"This one," I say with a bright smile.

"Pastels not your thing?" Johnny asks from next to Simon.

I shake my head, still smiling as I admire the shirt.

"Not really," I agree and turn toward Simon. "Can I get-"

"Anything that'll make you more comfortable," he says quickly, almost like he wouldn't hear any argument about what I get or, more accurately, don't get. "There's a shop next door with far less pastels. We'll get this one and find you some more options, yeah?"

"Thank you," I tell him, sincerity thick in my voice.

"Ah, don't be like that, lass! He's just doing his best and making sure you're all set up. Right, Simon?" Johnny says just before getting nudged in the ribs and glared at by Simon.

When Simon turns back to me, his expression - what I can see of it - is softer than usual. There's usually a neutrality to all of him with the occassional crinkle in the corner of his eyes from what I assume is a smile. In this moment he seems... genuinely happy. Maybe even content.

That's good.

I think?

Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | Part One

Tag List: @lucienofthelakes @lostintransist @demothers-empty-blog @scaredyspooks @tessakate @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @nerdyphantomtheorist @gazsluckyhat @peanutismynickname

[changingplumbob]

CW: Low level sim spice, language - Guide to content warnings

Glenn: That was fun, thanks for teaching me how to do that

Silver: No problem Babycakes. You okay?

Glenn: What do you mean

Silver: You seem fidgety

Glenn: Oh I just don't feel very well

Silver: You shouldn't have swallowed

Glenn: No it's not that, I think it's just my stomach bug

Silver: Wait you still have that? You didn't say on the phone yesterday

Glenn: Course not. You've knocked yourself down to two days of traveling a week. I'm not going to interfere with that by telling you how many times I've thrown up

Silver: I mean... did you throw up a lot while I was gone

Glenn: Only three times but it's easy enough to clean up with magic. I mean technically I could clean myself with magic as well but I do love my showers

Silver: But that makes almost two weeks you've been sick

Glenn: Yeah, and? I know you are blessed with not getting sick because you're a werewolf but the rest of us do have to suffer through bugs

Silver: *thoughtfully* It just seems to be getting worse, not better

Glenn: I'll survive

Silver had a thought, but he really didn't want to have that thought. It wasn't possible right?

Glenn: What the heck just flew past the window? You stay here, I'll be back

Glenn pulled on his pants and went downstairs while Silver sat up in bed, his mind racing. Downstairs Glenn let in Koko who had just crash landed in front of the door.

Glenn: What are you doing

Koko: Practicing, I still prefer horses

Glenn: No I mean it's the middle of the night

Koko: Glenn, Ophelia was very precise about my delivery time. You know I don't sleep so she figured I was best for this job. Here you go

Glenn: A box?

Koko: I wanted to gift wrap it

Glenn: Did Ophelia say when I could open it

Koko: Now. I believe her specific words were "Please give it to Glenn for me and make sure you get the timing right. Oh and tell him to remind Silver to breathe"

Glenn: Why would I need- the heck is this

Koko: A pregnancy test

Glenn: No I know that but why are you giving it to me?

Koko: Because Ophelia told me to

Glenn: No but I mean, I'm not female

Koko: I am aware. You do have feminine sparks of energy but mainly it's masculine energy that you give off

Glenn: Koko I... I can't get pregnant. Can I?

Koko: Why are you asking me

Glenn: Well quite aside from the fact that you flew past my window, making me rush downstairs and giving me a pregnancy test, you told me your family knew healing magic

Koko: Some but healing is not the same as pregnancy

Glenn: You know all about light right? Am I... do I look like I'm glowing? Could you tell that

Silver sat on the edge of the bed panicking. How long had Glenn felt nauseous for? Silver had grown up in a time where pregnancy was taboo but he still knew a lot. Someone had always been pregnant in the pack. When women were pregnant they had trouble keeping food down but the men, normally the men didn't feel the nausea as bad.

Maybe it was because Glenn was a spellcaster? But shit! Male pregnancy was meant to be a werewolf thing. If the pair had gotten pregnant it should be Silver carrying their child. Glenn... Glenn had struggled so much with his self esteem growing up. One of his points of pride was his abs, that he was able to maintain them. Well he wouldn't be able to keep them if he was pregnant. And if he was pregnant then it was definitely Silver's fault.

Silver didn't know what to do. His mom would have known, but she wasn't here. Watcher he missed her.

Glenn: Silver?

Shit. Silver was really out of it if he hadn't heard Glenn come back up the stairs and in to their room. He should apologise. Wait no, if he did that Glenn might think he didn't want a kid. Then Glenn would be pregnant and sad and both would be his fault.

Glenn: That was just Koko. Ophelia wants me to take a pregnancy test I guess and uh... and remind you to breathe?

Previous ... Next

[docholligay]

I have a whole video coming about this, about confidence and being a unique dresser, but as I've been trying to do it (editing for myself for the first time!! Applaud me!) I realize it's going to take me awhile, so I promise I will have it for you by the end of the month, but for now, let's talk about boiling the frog of your own personal anxieties in post form.

I am a unique dresser. I dress in a way that draws attention. I have been doing this for a long, long time.

There are a million things I will tell you about dressing this way in public, and they're 96% good, honestly, mostly you have to deal with people telling you how nice you look. But that's for the video, and I'm working really hard on it, so I'm not going to give the milk away for free here. You gotta watch my painstakingly hand-edited artisanal woman-centered garbage!

But what I will say, is how you get used to the idea.

When I get ready to wear something that is out of my comfort zone*, I wear it a few times just for myself. I look in the mirror, not looking for flaws, really, but just observing how I look in it. What about it do I like? What do I like less? Is it bad, or am i just not used to it?

Then I wear it around the house for a whole day. I make sure to catch a look at myself whenever I pass a mirror or a window or something. I need to be able to see myself in the item because it needs to become a part of the way that I think about myself. Because that's what a lot of this kind of anxiety is. It's that, it's not a way that you think about yourself. When you see an outfit or a style and you want to imitate it, and you think, "I wish i could wear that" a lot of what is stopping you, generally, is this idea that you're not the kind of person who wears that. That it would be odd for you to. We have to fight that, and the best way to fight that, is to utterly disprove it. You ARE the sort of person who wears that, and the more you see yourself in it, the more it becomes true.

Vacations are a great time to wear something that feels new to you, especially if it feels scary. You don't know these bitches! No one will ever see you again. (I actually forget that I dress so distinctly sometimes, or rather, that it's not usual, because in my community people don't say much unless I get a new dress or hat or something. But I get so many comments when i travel ahaha) So, if you feel like the look isn't working, that's okay because in some ways, this is not your real life. This won't haunt you or follow you.

So let's say you wore it on vacation, and it was great. Just wear it to one thing. The grocery store. An easy errand. Something like that. You don't have to wear it to work where everyone knows you.

But then you do. Because the more you do it, the more you'll see that there's really nothing to be afraid of. Most of what people will notice and say is complimentary, but even if it isn't. You only get one life. This is it. You can live as the most boring version of yourself, or you can add color and interest and beauty to this world. I will take a thousand sweet lolita and leather daddies over people who don't try at all. I thank God for people who are wear too much makeup and giant painted silk caftans. They are doing the fucking thing!

When I was a little girl, I used to watch old movies, and read old books. All I wanted was to be glamorous and poised, and I used to drape my sheets around myself and imagine going to grand balls. I practiced my fine dining manners in my games, and I studied maps of the world, and I loved to wear blouses and embroidered skirts. In the eyes of my extended family, this was silly. I was putting on airs.

But I am the girl I dreamed of being. I stroll through the airport in high heels and I wear silk blouses and I drink champagne out of crystal glasses and sometimes I wonder, if I had let the fear of being ridiculed override my desire to be exceptional, who would I be? You cannot be an interesting person without doing interesting things, without doing things that other people don't. I can only imagine that ten year old Doc would see me strolling along, and gasp. And that is a good feeling.

Here is your sign. Try. It's always better to try and fail than it is to be stuck in mediocrity for the rest of your life. Tuck in your shirt. Buy the belt. Try going a week without wearing black. Without wearing a t-shirt. Expand your world, and expand the pleasure you bring to others simply by existing. It's worth a try! You are worth making an effort for.

*There ain't much left, to be quite honest, but still, it can happen.

[delugyu]

cold, cursed city (fic preview)

fic summary: You wish your best friend would leave your budding relationship alone.

pairings: best friend and roommate!beomgyu x fem!reader, soobin x fem!reader

genre: angst, smut (teaser is sfw though)

teaser warnings: drinking

word count: 0.9k (out of 25k)

notes: finally mustered up the courage to set up this account… lol bear with me as i figure things out! this fic will be a 2-parter, chapter 1 is fully written and just needs to be edited, which shouldn’t take long, so expect that soon <3

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you announce, patting Soobin’s back as you get up.

You seat yourself on a barstool, tapping your fingers against the bar as you wait for the bartender to come to you. You hum along to the song playing.

“Hello again,” the bartender greets. You shoot your head up and smile. “Same as before?” You’re surprised he remembers your order when there’s so many people here tonight. You guess he’s just good at his job.

“Yes, please,” you say. You go back to humming and tapping to the beat of whatever song the bar is playing. You look back at your table for a second. Everyone looks like they’re enjoying themselves. It makes you happy to see your friends get along with Soobin.

You check your phone for any important messages, but all you received was a bunch of meaningless notifications from various apps. You shove your phone into your purse so you stop looking at it. You’re here to socialize.

A hand lands on your shoulder, prompting you to look back. You were expecting it to be Soobin, but you’re not surprised when you see that it’s Beomgyu. You give him a smile as he takes the stool next to you. You look back at the bartender, and Beomgyu looks behind the two of you at the rest of the people here. Beomgyu’s arm stays slumped around you.

When your drink is handed off to you, you turn your full attention to your friend. “What’s up?” you ask. You swivel your seat so you can face him directly, forcing his arm off you. He leans into the bar, getting—probably too—comfortable.

“I just wanted to see you,” he answers.

“How’s your night going?” You take a sip of your drink, licking your lips after. His eyes follow the movement.

“Alright, I guess,” he says. He looks out to the crowd again.

“You should go dance,” you suggest.

He shakes his head. “I only like dancing with you.”

“Isn’t that sweet,” you tease. He matches your smile before stealing your drink and taking a sip from it. “Oh my god, you and your big ass gulps, all the time,” you reprimand jokingly.

“I barely drank any of it,” he defends with a pout. You laugh and pat his head to summon his lips back upward. It works immediately, of course.

“How’s everyone doing at the table?” you ask.

He shrugs. “They’re having a good time. Soobin talks a lot.” Soobin wasn’t talking that much when you were at the table, so you’re surprised to hear that. Maybe the alcohol started really coursing through his system in the short time you were gone.

“That’s good,” you respond.

“Are you going home with him?” he asks, looking at you with big round eyes. Usually Beomgyu mellows down and laughs a lot when he drinks, but this time he’s a little different.

“With Soobin?” you clarify. He nods. “Probably not. I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Beomgyu says quickly. You laugh.

“Why good?”

“Don’t want him stealing you from me.”

“You’re such a child,” you chuckle. He holds your hand over the table when you let go of your glass. It’s not abnormal for him to be touchy with you, so you don’t question it. He brings your interlocked hands up to his face and leans into them. His face feels warm on the back of your hand.

“Let me know when you wanna head to ours,” Beomgyu says. He’s being cute right now, you can’t help it when you let go of his hand so you can poke his nose. He beams at you.

“Let’s go back to the table,” you say, grabbing your drink and getting out of your seat.

“No, stay here with me.” He’s so needy. You look him up and down, assessing him.

“How much did you drink?” you ask. You swear he only had a couple beers. He ushers you back into your seat with a gentle hand on your hip. “Gyu, I can’t just leave Soobin for the rest of the night.”

“He’s having fun. Don’t mind him.”

“I brought him here though,” you reason.

He sighs, and his eyes lose their sparkle. He turns his head so he’s not facing you anymore. “Fine,” he says.

“You can’t seriously be upset with me for this?”

He still doesn’t look at you. “I’m not.”

You bite your tongue and decide to leave it at that, even though you know he’s lying. He’s jealous for no reason; it’s not like you’re going to abandon your best friend all because you might have a man in your life. Soobin and you aren’t even anything more than friends right now. You wish you could talk some sense into him, but you don’t want to do that in public.

Beomgyu will wallow alone for the rest of the night if you leave him now. The choice is on you: abandon Soobin at the table, or abandon Beomgyu right here. It’s not like there’s a correct option.

You look at your table. Soobin’s intently listening to Yeonjun as he rambles on about something, while the girls seem to be in a conversation of their own. Does Soobin need you right now? He seems like he’s holding his own. Your eyes fall back to the boy that definitely does.

“Beomgyu,” you call, shaking his shoulder so he’ll look at you. He does. “Let’s go home.” His smile returns immediately.

You already start thinking of what excuse you’ll text Soobin later.

[blessedbyahuntress]

Two Demigods and a Goddess

Pairing: Leo Valdez x Daughter!of!Hades!Reader

Warnings: I don't think so

Word Count: 1.9k

You dipped your feet in the water, sighing as it cooled your skin. 

The sun shone down on your face, blinding you as you slipped your hoodie off; it was too hot to be wearing extra layers.

You traced the lines that had been engraved into the rock beside you with your knife- your only possession when you were sentenced to this island. Twenty four lines, twenty four months, or two years, if you preferred. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of light. You turned your head toward it and frowned, puzzled. Another innocent girl coming to join you in Ogygia? 

You decided not to dwell on it, instead taking your dagger out of its sheath. You angled yourself back to the rock to draw a few more images. Calypso would tell you if anything major happened while you were away.

After all, nothing really happened often on this isle. Usually.

At least, that’s what you thought until you heard Calypso practically scream, “what are you doing? You blew up my dining table!”

“Great,” you muttered, rising to your feet. You slipped on your sandals, speed walking to the shore of the island. 

~

You stayed in the shadows, watching your best friend sassily argue with a short, curly haired Latino. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He said. You could tell that he already disliked Calypso. “I just fell out of the sky. I constructed a helicopter in midair, burst into flames halfway down, and barely survived. But by all means- let’s talk about your dining table!”

“Who puts a dining table on the beach where innocent demigods can crash into it?” He continued. “Who does that?”

Calypso clenched her fists, looking about ready to march down to the Latino and punch him in the face. 

Before she could do anything of the sort, you emerged from the shadows, compliments from your father. 

“Well, well, well,” you said, strolling up to the pair. “What do we have here, Calypso?”

She snorted. “No one important, as you can see.”

You tsked. “You should at least ask his name, before you label him as ‘not important’.”

The boy beamed at you. “Why, thank you, Sunshine!” He looked you up and down. “I must say- loving the outfit, too. Sandals with cargo pants? I don’t know a lot of people who could pull that off.”

You raised your eyebrows, slipping your sunglasses back over your eyes. “The one thing I’ll allow you to label him as, without asking his name, is annoying.”

The boy raised a hand to his chest, acting like he was wounded. “Oh, how your words hurt me, Sunshine! But your gloomy aesthetic isn’t fooling me any time soon!”

You scowled and turned to Calypso. “This’ll be tough,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “He’s by far not as attractive as Odysseus nor Percy, and he’s rather annoying. How do we get him out of here?”

“Tell you what.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “I’ll take him to my side of the island. And maybe, just maybe, I can build something that’ll get him out of here.”

Calypso gave a small nod, relief overtaking her features as she slowly walked back toward the winding trail which led to her home. You watched her go until she was out of sight. 

Turning to the boy, you said, “what’s your name?”

He got up, and you realized he was clutching an odd-looking sphere. You raised your eyebrows as he stumbled out of the wreckage of Calypso’s dining table.

“Leo,” he answered. “Leo Valdez.”

You gestured to a different footpath a bit of a walk away from the one Calypso had run off to. “Alright, Valdez. Follow me, don’t ask any stupid questions, and I’ll make you as comfortable as I can. If you ask me anything along the lines of, “who are you?” or, “Why are you here?” I’ll skewer you.”

You grinned at his slightly uneasy expression before stalking off into the woods. 

~

Leo found you the next day.

You were wandering the shores of Ogygia, fiddling with a black ring that had been gifted to you from Hades. 

You jumped when the Latino from the day before tapped you on the shoulder.

You turned the skull on your ring toward the left, the simple piece of jewelry enlarging into a stygian iron dagger. The blade found its place under his chin in one swift movement. 

He yelped.

“Oh,” you said, sounding rather disappointed. “It’s just you.”

Leo released a breath. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Just me.”

You rolled your eyes, removing the knife from his neck. “I mean just you as in, ‘oh, it’s an annoying boy who I unfortunately am not allowed to decapitate yet, though it would be fun to do so.’.” 

He blinked, and you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Yes, Valdez? What do you want?”

Leo blinked again, trying to ignore the strong scent of your perfume. It smelled so good. 

“Valdez?”

He realized he’d been staring at you, and had to rip his gaze away. “Uhm,” he said. 

You quirked an eyebrow.

He felt his mouth get dry as he tried to remember what he’d come to ask you for. Gods, why did you have to apply your makeup much better than you had yesterday?

“Uh… I-You.” Leo could tell you were growing impatient. “Do you have any scrap metals?” He blurted.

You barked a laugh, and Leo found himself loving the sound of it. 

“Of course I have scrap metal!” You exclaimed. “For gods sake, I have a whole forge!”

This earned you another blink from Leo. 

You grabbed his wrist, dragging him to the cave a few feet away.

Stopping in front of the entrance, you announced, “this is my home. You’re welcome here, but only, and I repeat only, to ask a question, grab food, or use the forge. You still get to sleep outside.”

“Yippee!” Leo remarked sarcastically. 

You scowled at him, dropping his forearm. Gesturing farther into the cave, you started retreating back into the sunlight. 

“You’ll find everything prepped and ready for use,” you told him before vanishing from his sight.

~

You hadn’t returned that night. Nor the night after that one. 

Leo hadn’t even thought about it until you showed up holding a basket of grapes and a loaf of bread.

“Valdez.”

He glanced up and nearly smashed his thumb with his hammer; he’d forgotten how utterly breathtaking you were. 

“You haven’t eaten in two days,” you said, frowning. “You need to take a break, Leo.”

It was the first time Leo had heard you use his first name instead of ‘Valdez’, and he tried to ignore the fact that he wanted you to say it more often.

“Two days?” He asked.

You nodded seriously before snorting. You moved to grab his hand before he could bash his thumb with his hammer. 

Your touch burned. In fact, it seemed like his skin was still on fire from where you’d grabbed his wrist earlier in the week. He tried to ignore the sensation, having to focus on the food in your other hand instead. He didn’t find this to be a very difficult task, considering that he was starved. 

You took the hammer from Leo’s hand gently, setting it off to the side. 

Satisfied that he would stop and eat, you gestured to the table a few feet away. “Sit with me, Valdez. Let’s eat.”

Once properly situated- Leo sitting like a normal human being, while you put your feet up on the table- you ripped off a chunk of bread for yourself, offering the rest of the loaf to the boy next to you.

He took it as you chewed your piece with a thoughtful expression. 

“I think I’m ready to tell you about myself,” you decided.

Leo, who was apparently trying to see how many grapes he could feet in his mouth without choking, froze.

You tilted your chin up, avoiding his gaze as you said, “i’m Y/N L/N, daughter of-”

“Hades,” Leo finished. “Variable of the Battle of Manhattan, assassin for hire, most deadly and unpredictable demigod in the world.” He released a breath. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you.” 

Your gaze flickered to him, surprised when you didn’t see what you were expecting; Leo’s eyes meeting yours, understanding, curiosity, and perhaps admiration in the depths of his stare. 

“Don’t you… hate me?” You couldn’t help but ask in a hushed voice. 

Leo frowned. “Hate you? Why would I hate you?”

“Because…” You struggled with an answer. 

The boy beside you rose to his feet, taking both of your hands in his. “Y/N, I don’t think I could ever hate you for anything, much less the things you had to do.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek. The only other person who’d reacted like this had been… no one, actually. “I-I-” You stammered. “I don’t know what to say.”

Leo gave you a small smile. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know what I say is true.”

You found yourself looking to the entrance of the cave. You stood abruptly, dragging the Latino boy after you as you ran to the beach. 

“Whoa!” He yelped. “Y/N, what’re you…”

He trailed off as he saw the raft that awaited on the shore. 

“Hurry!” You said, tugging him toward the raft. “I don’t know how long it will stay!”

“But…” Leo found himself not able to finish that sentence as you glared at him over your shoulder.

“Come on, Valdez!” You cried. “Move! It’s supposed to take you where you want to go, but the island’s magic is obviously unstable! You have to rig up your guidance device to navigate!”

You continued to sprint to the raft, Leo behind you; he’d snapped out of his daze when he realized you had grabbed the console from the other table beside the forge. 

You and Leo worked in sync, stepping back once you were sure everything was situated correctly. 

“Go,” you said, stepping off of the raft. You inched back a bit when Leo hopped off too. 

He grabbed your hand again, and you stared down at your intertwined fingers. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“You have to.” You cursed yourself for how heartbroken you sounded.

“Then, once the war is over, I'll come back to you.”

“Leo-”

“I know that no man has ever landed here twice, but I have to. I’ll find a way, Y/N. If it’s the last thing I-”

You lurched forward and placed your lips on his.

Leo’s brain seemed to have short-circuited. He stood there for a moment, unsure if this was real, if you were real- ‘cus it sure as hell felt like he was dreaming.

Then he closed his eyes, hands finding a place on your waist. 

You pulled away far too soon, in Leo’s opinion.

“Go,” you repeated, stepping away.

“Okay.”

“And don’t give me any empty promises.”

“Okay.”

Leo stepped back onto the raft, not sure if it was salt water or tears running down his cheeks. 

He looked back at Ogygia, only to find it was only a spec in the distance now.

You had said not to give you any empty promises. And he wouldn’t. 

He’d give you his vow.

“I’m coming back to you, Y/N,” he whispered. “I swear it on the River Styx.”

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

@seahorses-of-gold here's part 2 tumblr won't post it all at once

21) youll smell different but the body odor really isnt that bad as long as you shower and wear deodorant. perfume or cologne if you want. the reason people say it's bad is because the average person going through male puberty is a cisgender teen boy and they are not known for exemplary hygiene practices 22) if you are a tense person and cannot relax your muscles then shots are probably not for you. i switched to gel around month 3 because i couldn't loosen my leg muscles up enough to make shots not painful 23) best way to get full dosage of gel is to administer it in the proper site, rub in lightly with a silicone spatula (use the ones made from 1 piece not the ones you can separate into 2 pieces), and then rub it in fully with your fingers. the amount that doesnt get on you is minimal 24) get a new silicone spatula specifically for this and wash with soap and water and dry before each use. they air dry fast btw 25) dont shower until 4-5 hours after applying 26) month 5 is about when puberty facial hair began. it will be there but it's gonna be like what a 15 year old boy is so it's up to you what to do with that 27) months 6-10 are when i got the most useful changes. around month 6 i began passing very, very regularly and by month 8 i passed perfectly as a cis guy. im not the most masculine guy in the universe so definitely a gay one but a male nonetheless 28) the men's bathroom isnt that bad as long as you pass decently well. just go in and get your shit done (literally if you have to) then wash your hands leave. men dont talk in the bathroom btw 29) most cis guys dont care if you never use the urinals. a lot of them dont anymore either it's more fun to slack off on your phone in a stall 30) there's a lot of strength increases during this time and they can be fun yet difficult to deal with because you dont know how to use your body yet. i kept grabbing things too hard for a few weeks, many drinks in plastic cups were spilled 31) if your goal is to pass (as was mine) you can absolutely try to make it happen faster however there's no way to know exactly when this will happen. my goal was for it to be within 1-2 years but it clearly was faster 32) if someone who passes fast pretends they're better than you or they did something "better than you" don't listen! they can give you advice yet you will never be the same person and that's ok. do things at your own pace and be patient 33) one piece of advice im very comfortable giving is that a deep voice goes a long way for passing. of course the low and slow dosage works wonders and another tip i have is to speak on the lowest register you can comfortably handle each morning. then speak regularly for the rest of the day 34) you cant make squeaky guinea pig noises anymore :( 35) you can be stealth if you want to there's no need to tell everyone everything. 36) months 8-12 felt like figuring myself out again. i was comfortable in my transition, looked and sounded like a cis guy, and ready to be weird again. this was absolutely the most fun time for me even if there werent huge changes in terms of transitioning 37) it took around month 12 for me to notice how well i actually pass. i did say that other people noticed around month 6ish yet it took me much, much longer. 38) i talk a lot about passing here because that was very important to me but if that isnt your goal it's ok!! your transition is individual to you. 39) dont let go of everything feminine that you've ever liked to force yourself to be more "manly" you'll just be sad and bored. unless you really wanna be a super macho man then go for it. i have pink highlights, i love jewelry, i love cooking, i love embroidery, i love glitter and fluffy animals. these things make life fun and id love them even if I were cis

would anyone appreciate a list of what i've learnt on my first year of T? there were so many unexpected things that no one told me about and I think it could help a few people!

[lylahammar]

I forgot to say it last night but happy new year everyone!!!!!!!!!!!! 🥳🎉🎊 let's make this year as good as it can be for ourselves!!! buy yourself a nice lil treat today to start off the year right! 💖