#comfort the sorrowful

[dearlittlefandom-stalker]

The Yellow Rose, Part One ~

@inklings-challenge

Bonnie loves flowers. Bluebells, primroses, daffodils, violets, orchids, poppies, snowdrops, cornel dahlias; even the thistles and heather and gorse flowers she loves with all her heart. Her most favorite flower, however, is the yellow rose. This is partly because yellow is her favorite color, and partly because they remind Bonnie of her Mother, Una.

Yellow roses were her favorite flower, too.

Bonnie, the youngest of six children, knew flowers well. She grew up surrounded by them in the most beautiful garden in all Scotland. Or at least she likes to think it’s the most beautiful garden in all of Scotland, but she admits she might be biased. Still, seeing as beauty is in the eye of the beholder, who’s to say it isn’t?

Bonnie’s older brothers and sisters either absently agree or smile and pat her on the head indulgently when she says such, but she doesn’t mind. They haven’t taken up the mantle their Mother left behind in caring and tending for the garden as she has. They don’t spend hours on end in the garden, appreciating its beauty and talking to the flowers as one talks to dear friends as she does. (Bonnie knows that the flowers really do listen, and sometimes they even seem to whisper in that flower-language of theirs. Bonnie keeps this as her special secret, however. Her brothers and sisters wouldn't understand. They don't listen.)

So Bonnie doesn't heed their teasing too much. She knows that whenever one of them is lonely, or seeking comfort, or missing their Mother terribly… it is to the garden that they go. And Bonnie and her flowers will always be there to keep them company.

Jacob, her eldest brother, happens upon her one evening in the garden. He stands there, faltering at the end of the row so long Bonnie half wonders if he forgot why he came. He clears his throat roughly and Bonnie understands without him having to say a word, not that she's sure he could at the moment. She pats the ground beside her and he accepts the silent invitation with relief - which is rather silly of him, Bonnie thinks. He should know that one is always welcome to grieve with family. That's it is so much better than grieving alone. Mama and Papa taught them that.

She begins to softly sing the lullaby their Mother always sang, and soon nature’s chorus joins her. The smell of Mother’s flowers surround them and the dying rays of sunlight cast shadows over the garden and its occupants. A solemn moment, but peaceful. There is not a dry eye between the two of them, but neither mind. It's a good cry. The sorrow, heavy and suffocating as it is, doesn't pass; but dies ease by the smallest of margins when shared thus.

The flowers bob their heads wisely in the wind and Bonnie smiles at them through her tears. She closes her eyes, and leaning back against her brother, sends a prayer heavenward.

Oh, God, she prays, Be with our family. Be with Jacob here beside me. Be with Dermid as he is working in the city tomorrow and be with Finlay because You know how he is to proud to ask for help. Be with Kirstie, especially with the wedding coming soon, I know she's stressed even if she loves Baird. And be with him too, since he'll soon be my brother. And be with Peggy, she's not been talking to me as much recently, and I'm worried about her. And be with Papa especially much because he has been here for us so well even though he's hurting just as much as we are. He's working so hard, and I worry about him planning to go on this trip alone. And, and tell Mama we miss her? Amen.

[crabsnpersimmons]

"Your heart was in the right place. Don't blame your earnestness and efforts for their lack of understanding—the right people will appreciate your heart."

EDIT: i mention this in the tags already, but please don't copy my vent tags in your reblogs. thanks for understanding.

[sorrowful-hyacinth]

Random thoughts.

You know what would be fun? A Whump coloring book. I have a weird thing about not coloring my own art because I’m never completely happy with how it looks, but for some reason I really like coloring books.

A coloring book full of your own OC’s or your favorite characters being in every possible hurt/comfort scenario you can think of. From sick fic material to gore horror. That would be so fun. And imagine little story snippets on each page to describe the scene or the events that led to it.

“Exhibit A: We have a Whumpee being lashed because they punched Whumper in self defense. Bad Whumpee.”

“Exhibit B: We have a Whumper getting a taste of their own medicine, being boiled alive in a cauldron.”

I feel like it would be so therapeutic just coloring a scene of someone being covered in blood or being strung up to the ceiling, being stuck out in a blizzard. You could make it fun too and make spins on it. Like it’s the most innocent scene in the world with happy snowmen and kids running around while you have a pet whumpee just sitting bare in the freezing snow with their leash tied to a tree.

You know, fun things like that. Just a thought.

[timethehobo]

Constant companions.

[mediumgayitalian]

The crooked, creaky door of the cluttered infirmary storage room pushes open and slams shut in the span of a second, just barely allowing someone to dart through. Nico jumps, banging his head on the shelf he’s hiding under, chomping full force on his lip to bite back a shout. The shadows, on lucky reflex, bend around him and shroud his face. The rest of him he tucks further into the forgotten corner between two filing cabinets, holding his breath.

Under the unflattering light of the single swinging lightbulb, Will looks dull.

A thin headband attempts to hold back his frizzy hair, although it does very little. Curls stick out oddly and many shorter hairs are plastered to his temples and the back of his neck. His skin is unusually lacklustre, even pale, except for the high flush around his cheekbones. The bruising under his eyes rivals Nico’s. He has been wearing the same scrubs for the last two days.

With one last look at the closed door, nothing but garbled voices filtering through the heavy wood, he slumps. He drops his face into his chapped and bleeding hands, heels pressed into his eyes, and holds them there for ten seconds, twenty. Slowly, with trembles so minute they are at first glance unnoticeable, his shoulders begin to shake. The long fingers flexed and tensed around his forehead curl tightly, and he twitches, whole body trembling, teeth sunk hard into his bottom lip to stop his chin from quivering.

It does not work.

The first sob is quiet. He catches it quickly, forcing it back down, breathing heavily through his nose and out his mouth to beat it back. The second follows quickly, though, and it’s harder to choke down. When his face crumples, his resolve goes with it, and his knees hit the floor, sharp crack swallowed by the stillness of the room. He curls forward until his nose nearly hits his knees, hands sliding through his hair and over his ears and settling finally clutching together in the dip of his chest, bouncing with every heave of his chest. It’s quiet, his crying, enough that every dropped tear can be heard as it hits the dusty floor. The only time his sobs are ever audible is when he opens his mouth, trying desperately to soak up enough air to catch himself, to carry himself through.

Mute horror holds Nico’s tongue hostage.

He’d escaped in here the second Will had been called away this morning, dragged for the umpteenth time to handle a crashing patient or a complicated hymn or to soothe someone’s nerves. For the past two days he’s been doing his best to monitor Nico and a handful of other front liners who’d exhausted themselves in battle, but his focus has been split and the infirmary has been crowded. Whenever he runs off to put out whatever fire had cropped up — sometimes literally — the whispers start, the glances, the skin crawling up Nico’s back. Nico can hardly tell anymore what’s the shadows and what’s the people around him, watching him out of the corners of their eyes like they’re waiting for him to bust out a scythe and a black hooded cloak and start reaping.

The storage room is supposed to be an escape. Out of the way and forgotten as it is, it is supposed to be the place he can hide for an hour, escape the heavy gaze of the rest of the camp, collect himself before braving it all again.

Clearly, though, he’s not the only one who thinks so.

There’s something disorienting about seeing Will Solace cry. In the few times Nico has spoken with him during his visits to camp, he’s been a barely-contained explosion of energy, whether talking Nico’s ear off with updates about people he barely knows and references he hardly understands or cussing him out for overextending himself. He’s used — as much as he can be to someone he’s only beginning to really get to know — to his wildly flailing hands and widely playful grin, his loud drawling voice, his painful, constant brightness.

His hands, now, clench until they’re bloodless, trembling. There is no hint of his wide smile or twinkling eyes, because his face is hidden by all the hair that his given up on the pretence of the hairband, and the only sound from him are his gasping breaths and swallowed-back sobs. Nico watches him because he cannot look away. He flinches because every cry, every rough, scraping inhale, sounds like shattering rock, like an iceberg breaking off a glacier.

A quiet beeping startles them both.

For a stretch of time Will is motionless. The beeping continues, steady and soft, bouncing off the cluttered shelves and fading before they echo. After the third round — and Nico counts, if anything for something to do besides watch the chafed skin on Will’s hands crack and bleed with every flex — he drags himself upright, nails drawing lines in the thick dust of the floorboards, and rests back on his heels. He breathes for a moment, shuddering, hands pressed flat to his face; in, beep, beep, beep; out, beep, beep, beep. None of his breaths are ever steady, but he wastes no more time, swiping under his eyes and pinching his cheeks to restore his face to some of its usual colour. He grips onto each board of the shelf to his right as he yanks himself upwards, hand over hand, until he’s stretched, finally, to stand, although there remains a slouch to his broad shoulders.

The beeping continues, emanating from the watch on his left hand, growing softer or louder as he trails his fingers over the shelves from one end to the other, from the first, the second, the third. He pauses finally on a collection of bottles, turning them carefully to read the labels, then tucks them each gently into his already bulging pockets until he is left with what he must carry between his fingers.

The shadows bend to cover Nico again as Will turns, unknowingly facing him, and pulls himself suddenly straight-backed, chin set high, shoulders squared. He smiles, wide, fractured, squinting his eyes deliberately. The beeping stops. He breathes, in, smile, out, nod, and turns, striding, back to the door, opening it with flourish and swiping the dust off his clothes.

“Found them! Sorry it took so long, I really had to look —”

The door swings shut behind him, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

Nico stares at it with bile churning in his too-empty stomach.

———

art by the incredible @clingonlikeclingwrap

[pastelpaperplanes]

I'm curious; why do Blitzwing and his parents look so,,,stricken? Horrified? To see each other exactly? LOVE the expressions tho

Anon is referring to this art post!

Their reunion is supposed to be both relieving and absolutely devastating. Their boy is alive after all these years through both the war and the Decepticon’s exile…Blitz is here and he is right in front of them, but this person is also a stranger to them.

They see that yes this IS their boy. And yes, Blitzwing is STILL Blitzwing, yet nearly not at all.

Wartime has not been kind of their son in the slightest, and to see how his continued survival through so many years of war has ravaged him, pulled him apart into pieces, cut away, and added so much to their boy to the extent that it takes so much more to recognize him as a triple changer—Papillon and Firstwatch are rightly horrified. Someone has hurt their baby.

Whats worse, Blitz readily assumes that he is someone they most likely no longer recognize, both in appearance and as their son. Those are his parents.

But do they know what stands before them? Would they even still see him as their son, and not just some “war-torn abomination “? Would they still love him? Could they even be capable of still loving him after what he was turned into?

But of course they recognize him, of course they love him and no force in the universe could change that. Those are his parents and he is their baby.

[t4tklonoa]

It's like looking into a mirror.

Happy 23rd anniversary Klonoa 2 Lunatea's Veil !

[blissfulcabin7]

Jesus loves you

[bl00dfroma-fairy]

[kitsiyo]

Hello! I apologize if this comes across as odd, but there used to be a piece of vent art that went along the lines of “I need to wallow a little longer/I’m not ready to let go of the sadness” is that still up? It’s been so dear to me all these years as well as other pieces, it has helped me navigate my own emotions and now I would love to show it to my partner as they are going through the same thing. If not, that’s completely fine and I understand! :)

Hi there, not sure if this is the one specifically you're referencing but it's the only one I found in my archive

May 8, 2017

[fideidefenswhore]

 the tudors (2007-2010) / the concubine, by christopher rae / the six queens of henry viii (2016) / zombie (2018), cover by bad wolves / the white princess (2017) / hunting the falcon, by john guy & julia fox / viii, by hm castor / the white queen (2013) / henry viii, by lucy wooding / firebrand (2023)

[ohhcinnybuns]

Here I am again,

You've been expecting me because I can't keep my mouth shut,

But if we don't know how their story ends, what then?

I have another prompt for you that's sure to really cut

‘  i am aching to hold you  &  keep you safe,  to be pressed against you so that nothing can harm you.  ’ 👀

In his arms, by the sea - Merman! Chuuya and Captain Dazai (OTPOY alternate ending)

Words: 2.8k

The shushing of the ocean waves entered his ears, muffled as if his head was below water. It could be. His mind had felt absent for months, his irises becoming mornings waiting at dawn for a sign—any sign at all. 

Time seemingly moved along without him. Days became weeks and months. Every morning, the same routine. He would walk, wait by the pier, gaze at the horizon, and return to the lighthouse he called home. He waited by the shore, hoping that a streaking comet would surface from below the sea, vermillion-drenched locks and teardrop irises ready to call his name and bring him back from his mind’s deceptive trenches. 

Boats drift by, bellowing their horn, while seagulls turn over vacant shells, searching for a morsel. Whispers of people passing by began to call him insane as if the story of his life that made him human was nonexistent and make-believe.

It was as if he had not been there to witness the tragic event that seemingly had him frozen there in time, wondering what he could have done differently to bring his loved ones home. 

---

All he had wanted to know was answers. All he had wanted to do was to understand why his father never came home. 

Why did Fyodor have to reappear when his father was doing just fine, away from the life of piracy to start anew? Why did the rat have to remove someone who meant so much to him, stepping all over the bond they’d come to build, know, and grow? 

Fyodor never even liked Oda to begin with. He always suspected that Fyodor disliked Oda for walking away from his crew - the mark of the Decay of Angels blemished on his arm, a grim reminder of the gruesome things he participated in. 

Dazai gritted his teeth with every sight of it because that was not the Oda that raised him. There was no piracy to him, only a man in love with the sea, freedom, and exploration. Oda had tried to move away from the decay that wanted to mold him, and in the end, his love for the sea always called him back, like a siren tempting her sailor to come forth and pull him under. They lured him, never to come back this time. 

“Where is he?” Dazai pressed him, holding a knife to the captain’s neck. 

“Have you tried looking at the bottom of the Yokohama port, Dazai-kun?" the captain returned his question with a cackle that turned Dazai’s boiling blood glacier-cold. He shivered, breathing rapidly through the gut-wrenching feeling coiling in his stomach. 

“I’m not playing.”

"If you really want to know, Dazai dear, he never left the port. He tried to run, but unfortunately, Nikolai was much faster than he thought,” Fyodor said with a widening smirk. “He got him right here," he continued his tale, the back of his hand knocking against Dazai's chest, “two shots is all it took for him to tumble off the boat. So very sad, Dazai-kun. I’m so very sorry for your loss." 

A ringing in his ear. A shaky breath. Dizzy, tunneling vision. He had hoped it was a lie, but what did Fyodor have to gain from it? Nothing at all. Nothing was ever enough for a cold, blooded monster like him. No amount of plundering and violence was ever enough. He had told the truth and there was nothing more to it. 

Fyodor took hold of his devastation to make his escape. He shoved Dazai away, swiftly kicking open a barrel of oil and throwing a nearby lamp to the ground before dashing away. 

Fyodor ignited his ship with his followers, plans, and treasure still on it. Their convenience didn’t matter - they were only pawns ready to sink with their captain and ship. 

Dazai managed to escape the stores and jumped out of the burning ship into a safety raft. He cut the rope, ready to return to his boat, when a streak of a reddened bioluminescent tail swam past him beneath the bow of the blazing ship. 

“Chuu…ya?” His heart quickened, and he gulped down a knot forming in his throat in worry. The sound of screaming pirates roaring to extinguish fires blared in his ears, the crackling of compromised wood searing the sky. 

Dazai kept his sights on the water, waiting for any sign of Chuuya to return, but that’s when he heard a creaking, the sound of wood snapping out of place. Dazai gasped, smoky fires penetrating his lungs as his eyes stung from falling ash and soaking sea salt. He knew then Chuuya's plan to stop Fyodor. He couldn't do anything. He felt useless. 

Whatever Chuuya had attempted must not have been enough, the ship continued rocking, and Dazai could feel adrenaline as he waited for Chuuya to return to the surface. But he did not. 

Instead, the sea began to bubble and sway viciously, waves growing and pushing Dazai’s safety raft away from the blazing ship. He had to hold on to the side of his raft to keep his balance; otherwise, he risked tipping into the water. He placed a hand over his mouth and nose to slow the inhale of smog and water from entering his system, and when he was pushed a fair distance away, his eyes were wide as he watched the mighty ship struggle against the sudden force pulsing from below the boat. 

The once abysmal ocean thundered brightly as if a light switch had been flicked on, like an active volcano ready to burst. The sea turned a spilled bloody wine surrounding the vessel before a red and black beam broke through the mainmast. The boat started crumpling like a tin can before the ship splintered down its middle and split into two. 

“CHUUYA!” he had cried, heart drumming so quickly it trembled his body. 

Screaming bodies landed in the ocean, crying for help. The few rafts left on the ship had caught fire, unusable. Dazai searched the chaos for any sign of Chuuya but instead found Fyodor, who tossed aside a crewmate floating on a piece of wreckage for himself. 

The crewmate attempted to scale on again but was kicked away by the captain’s boot, which used him as leverage to float the makeshift raft away. The crewmate submerged underwater, nowhere to be seen. Then he sat leisurely, with a knee raised, surveying his surroundings while removing his wet dressings with a smirk. It made Dazai's blood boil, but it didn't last long. 

The same glowing light that brought down the boat sped towards the wreckage Fyodor sat upon at top speed and pulsed water like a geyser to flip it over, tossing the captain into the ocean’s depths once more. Dazai knew it was Chuuya, and he could not look away, slightly relieved that the merman was still out there. 

Fyodor’s head appeared above water briefly before Chuuya sprung from behind, clinging to a bewildered Fyodor with an arm hooked around their neck and hissing at his prey. He bit into the crook of the rat’s neck, his catch thrashing about and screaming in pain, shouting curses that fell on deaf ears as his surviving crewmates watched in terror, holding tightly to their wreckage and removing themselves from the water as quickly as possible. All the fighting did nothing to Chuuya except clench his teeth tighter. 

Dazai could feel Chuuya's gaze on him; pitch-black irises and red swirling symbols slithered all over his body, making him almost unrecognizable. The hand that held Fyodor became a claw resembling molten magma covered in inky veins, and blood seemed to leak from his orifices, staining his chest, shoulders, and face. He didn’t appear all that responsive, working on autopilot and consciousness.

“So this is… Chuuya’s true from…” is all Dazai could mumble, awe in his shaky breath. He wanted nothing more than for Chuuya to come back to him so he could wrap his arms around him and whisper to him that everything was okay now. He doesn't have to do more. Dazai beckoned for the merman to come close. 

The redhead detached his jaw from the rat’s nape, features twitching as if wincing now and again. He was in a primal state, and his instincts to attack were rampant, but beneath that, there were flickers of exhaustion, and Dazai could see the merman panting as if at his limit.

The merman's claw dug into the side of Fyodor’s throat and slashed it open. Blood rushed, screaming subsiding into gurgles, choking on salted water and iron. The captain's crewmates could only watch in horror as their leader pawed at his neck, trying to remove Chuuya’s hold on him. In the end, it was futile.

Drifting a little away from the wreckage had been Sigma and Nikolai, panting and soaking wet inside of a burnt boat, having seemingly gotten away just in time before the ship fractured. They could hear their captain screaming into the night sky, and all Sigma could do was turn his back to the scene and cover his ears. Nikolai, on the other hand, watched on with a balled fist and furrowed brows, turmoil flickering between Sigma and his captain. Ultimately, he chose to stay seated, watching his captain be mauled with a conflicted gaze. It's every man for themselves in open waters - any fight and loyalty they might have had in them sunk with their ship. 

Fyodor continued thrashing wildly until Chuuya couldn't handle his fuss anymore. The fins that shaped the redhead’s ears fanned back, and before Dazai could call to him, Chuuya dove below the surface with his prey in hand, their tail fanning swiftly to gain as much distance between himself and the surface before the flicker of his tail died out, losing sight of him. Dazai’s stomach drops, eyes round, hands gripping wood tightly as he leans against the bow of his raft for any sight of the merman, but he never resurfaces. 

He doesn't know how long he stood on that life raft out at sea waiting for Chuuya, hoping they would return. There was no sight of his bioluminescence. Dazai didn't know if Chuuya was alive or dead. 

Nothing could have prepared him to grieve as deeply as he did when he stepped back into his ship, rescued by his friends, who placed a blanket over him and directed him to his quarters. 

A piece of his heart sunk to the bottom of the ocean that night, an endless stream of tears over the reality of Oda's death and Chuuya's disappearance washing over him all at once. Everything around him moved in slow motion, rocking with his ship, paused forever in this moment, trapped in a loop that didn't want to let him go and hadn't let him go. 

How does anyone learn to move forward after the death of their loved ones? It is said that time heals all wounds, but what if some wounds don’t close? That has been a question that has plagued his mind since that night. Dazai never honestly thought about it, always having thought that his life should have ended at thirteen when he initially tried to drown himself. Yet, Oda and Chuuya became his saving grace when he thought he would never have anyone on his side, and now he was left to live without them. 

---

The walk back to the lighthouse this evening is a little chillier. Winter starts are always like that, much more polar next to the sea, but Dazai wouldn’t change it. He keeps his gaze lowered, mindful enough not to walk into others, hands in his tan coat pockets, breathing into the bundled navy scarf around his neck. The clicks of his shoes are the only evidence that he is moving forward and not floating to his destination. 

Crisp sea salt permeated his senses, hair fluffed and ruffled by the breeze. He walks the crisscrossing piers, the crescent shape of the harbor leading to a rocky shoreline, where a path veers off at its end, steps leading up to his lighthouse. This is where it all started. It’s only right that this is where he should end—the beginning of them and the entanglement of their Fates after the catalyst of his drowning. 

He had thought that maybe Oda would have loved Dazai buying the lighthouse - a home they could share instead of the shanty shack they used to live in because Oda was humble like that. The lighthouse kept them close to the coast, nights full of lulling tides and wondrous expanses of diamonds in the sky; perhaps it would have saved Oda from his end to have what he loved the most so close to him. Dazai wanted to give him that. 

He also thought Chuuya would have visited him more often. He thought they could meet again at the rocky ledges and dive together to explore the world below, fingers entwined and bodies close. He once joked to Chuuya that in another life, they would be fated sea horses drifting with the rolling tide in a swirling dance. The memory alone makes him smile, remembering the bright red hues that made the merman’s cheeks flush and splash water at him. 

Dazai bundles the scarf around his neck more tightly, the snugness comforting him as he ascends the steps. There is always tomorrow, he supposes as if that’s not what he’s been telling himself for months. There is always a tomorrow. 

As he reaches the door of his home, he unlocks it and enters, ready to close the door. A sound of quick steps enters his ears, and a hand holds his door open before he can fully close it shut. 

“Wait!” the person pants. They continue inhaling and exhaling as if they had been running for miles, finally trying to catch their breath.  

Dazai blinks, instinctively opening his door with a, “Yes? What can I do for you?” 

It wasn't often that he had visitors storming at his door. The last person to visit him had been Atsushi to check on his well-being. However, the sight he came upon made him speechless. 

“You walk…so fast…those lanky legs of yours… goddamn it… How am I supposed to keep up? Wait, I need a minute…” 

Before him was the soul of the ocean incarnate—flaming locks dry, curled, and swept to the side, trying to catch their breath. The stunning blue of his eyes glared at him playfully, a smirk plastered on his lips as his breathing regulated. He wore modern clothing and was rather handsome: a black leather jacket, onyx gloves, and a plain black T-shirt. At his neck rested a choker that replaced the seashell garland he used to wear. But even more surprising was the lack of a fishtail, replaced by legs hidden beneath navy jeans. 

“Chuuya?” Dazai croaked through the lump in his throat. All that time, waiting for time to shift along again. 

The redhead stands tall, a hand on his hip as he beams, asking, “Did you miss me?”

Dazai leaps forward, embracing Chuuya in his arms tightly, body trembling as if scared that the body he held was a figment of the imagination. He feels Chuuya chuckle into his chest, snaking his arms around his waist before whispering a small, “I’m home.” 

Dazai’s grip tightens for a minute before letting the redhead go, pulling back to look at Chuuya again, who gazes at him sheepishly, pink shading across his face. 

His eyes sting, caressing the softness of Chuuya’s cheek tenderly, still processing that Chuuya was standing before him. His hands continued to travel down to his neck, where he could feel their quickened blood flowing, and finally down to his chest, where a thumping heart beats. 

He looks in awe as Chuuya smirks up at him again. A smile surfaces, bubbling happiness overwhelming him as he leans in to capture his lover's lips in a kiss, tears finally falling free. Chuuya came back. 

Chuuya smiles, standing on his tiptoes, wrapping his arm around Dazai’s neck to keep them close. Dazai pulls away enough for their lips to brush together, a gentle “Welcome home” spilling from his lips, as Chuuya thumbs away the droplets from his eyes. 

The redhead grins, raking his hands through the brunette's knotting locks, speaking softly, “Sorry I kept you waiting so long.” 

Dazai hums with a smile and a nod, fondly gazing at his lover before kissing their forehead and taking hold of their hand. 

“You do have some explaining to do,” Dazai says with a small laugh. 

Chuuya laughs along, holding their hands up to place a kiss on Dazai’s wrist as an apology—one of Dazai’s favorite things that Chuuya did. Intimate and gentle. 

“Yeah, I know,” is all the redhead says calmly. 

Dazai nods, stepping away, leading Chuuya by their clasped hands into their home. Finally, time could move forward for him again - no longer stuck with ‘what ifs’  and wondering what he could have done differently for another outcome. No longer would Dazai be in his loneliness, gazing out at the ocean from his lighthouse or at the piers, waiting for a sign of life. Finally, he could live the rest of his days happily with his lover in his arms by the sea. 

[marshmalleaux-queen]

I took my new e-scooter to the drive thru and I don't think they were expecting to see that

[thepersonalwords]

a single poemthe thing that can keep melight on my feet,when my soul isheavy with sorrow.

Sanober Khan, A Thousand Flamingos

[selfless-solipsist]

In Another Universe

Commander Peepers x Reader x Wander [One-Shot]

This isn't a continuation to my 'My Dearest Enemy' fanfic. However, it's based on it, in a way. Just an idea I had and decided to write (and possibly the saddest thing I've ever written).

We'll See Each Other Again

The air was thick with an intoxicating mix of excitement, expectation and anticipation, the atmosphere electric as the quests took their seats. A makeshift altar had been constructed, adorned with an array of colorful flowers and twinkling lights. Friends and loved ones had gathered to witness two hearts uniting, an event that would change two lives forever.

In the center stood Wander, waiting nervously for his bride to appear.

He fidgeted with the cuffs of his suit, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by a blend of nerves and giddiness. Despite his outward appearance however, internally he was exploding with excitement. As he waited, his hands trembled slightly and his heart pounded in his chest, threatening to burst at any moment. But there was more to his emotions than just mere eagerness. There was a certain weight to his feelings, a hint at the importance of this day, the implications of the commitment he was about to make. 

His best friend, Sylvia, stood by his side, offering support and reassurance with a silent nod as the nomad's eyes scanned the crowd. He recognized family, friends and other loved ones from all corners of the galaxy, all gathered in this special place, at this special moment, to celebrate this exceptional union. 

And yet... something didn't feel right.

Just then, the music began, signaling the arrival of the bride. The crowd went silent, their attention fully on the entrance where ___ would appear. Wander took a deep breath, trying to steady his rapidly beating heart. This was it. She was coming. 

But even as his orbs fixed on the door, his mind was not entirely present. The feeling of something being off still lingered in the air, a small but nagging emotion that he couldn't quite shake. He tried to ignore it, to focus on the beautiful woman that was about to walk down the aisle towards him, but the feeling tugged at him, refusing to be disregarded.

And then, she finally came into view. 

All eyes were on her as she stepped into the outdoor venue. She was absolutely breathtaking, radiant, gorgeous in her wedding gown. But even as the star-nomad's breath caught in his throat at her sight, the concern in the pit of his stomach only intensified. He watched as she began to make her way down the aisle, her gaze fully on him, her orbs filled with love and anticipation. Though he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. It grew stronger with each step she took towards him, and despite the overwhelming joy and happiness he felt at the thought of his soon-to-be-wife, he felt that something was terribly wrong.

As she came closer, Wander fought to keep a smile on his face, to maintain the carefree persona that usually came so naturally to him. But it was difficult. The feeling of wrongness was almost suffocating now, a dark cloud threatening to overshadow the joyous occasion. 

Yet, despite the guilt and confusion swirling within him, he couldn't deny the depth of his adulation for ___. She had captivated him like no one else ever had and he couldn't bear the thought of letting her go. He wanted her, wanted her with a passion and intensity that defied all reason and common sense. He wanted her, because she made him feel whole. And nothing, not even the nagging image of what might have been, could change that. 

When she reached him, their eyes met. Hers, glittering with affection and excitement, his reflecting a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. He wanted to tell her everything, to confess the guilt that ate away at him, but he couldn't. He couldn't ruin this moment for her, couldn't ruin them. So, he pushed the feeling down deep within, burying it as much as he could, and took her hand as the officiant began to speak. 

The ceremony started, the words of the ceremony echoing through the air. But Wander's mind was elsewhere. As he stood there, holding his love, the concern continued to gnaw at him. He tried to focus on the officiant, on the significance of the moment, but the more her tried, the more the emotion intensified. And so he glanced at her. She was beautiful, happy, completely unaware of the turmoil within him. His heart ached at the sight; he longed to tell her everything, to confide in her, to seek comfort from her. 

But he couldn't. 

Instead, he held her hand tighter, trying to convince himself that everything was fine, that he was just being paranoid. But the feeling wouldn't subside. Every word spoken, every note played by the band, every cheer from the quests, served to remind him of what should have been. He was not supposed to be here, not like this, not with her. He was supposed to be alone. 

No, he thought.

Focus on the now.

Focus on her. 

Yet, he couldn't shake the idea that he was a thief, that he had stolen something that was not his to take. Even as he repeated his vows, as he spoke the words that bound him to the woman he loved, he couldn't escape the guilt of knowing that he was not that person. But he pushed the thoughts down, locked them away, and forced a smile as the officiant declared them husband and wife. The quests cheered once more, but all Wander could feel was a suffocating sense of wrongness. And as they kissed, it didn't taste as sweet as it always had.

But he loved her. So, so much. 

As the ceremony ended, Wander and ___, now newlyweds, turned to face the quests and accept their well wishes. The feeling of wrongness still lingered within him, a nagging weight at the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside, trying to focus on the joy and happiness that should be his primary emotions at this moment. So, the guests approached, their congratulations ringing out, the joy on their faces evident. But the nomad wasn't fully present, at least not mentally. His mind and heart were elsewhere, struggling with the inner conflict that threatened to ruin the happiest day of his life. He smiled, thanked everyone, and accepted hugs and handshakes, all the while the feeling grew stronger. It was like a shadow cast over him, like a pall over the celebrations. He tried to hide it, to keep up the facade of joy and contentment, but it was getting harder and harder to do so.

He glanced at his wife, her eyes sparkling with happiness, her smile never leaving her face. She seemed completely oblivious to his inner turmoil, utterly unaware of the storm that raged within him. 

And he had to stay cheerful, for her. 

Among the crowd was Hater, his girlfriend - the idea surprising - Dominator, hanging on his arm and Sylvia with her partner - also puzzling -  Awesome. They all clapped and cheered, congratulating the two with wide smiles. 

The skeleton stepped up to the couple first, his voice brimming with faux annoyance. "Congrats, you two lovebirds." He grumbled, a hint of a smile twitching at the corners of his lips, but he tried his best to hide it. "I never thought I would see the day where this... monstrosity got married." With that he shot Wander a look that spoke volumes about their relationship. 

Even in his turmoil, the nomad couldn't resist a small chuckle. "Well Hatey." He replied, a touch of his usual cheerfulness returning. "You gotta admit, this is definitely one of my grandest achievements!" 

And it truly was.

Sylvia was next, her eyes warm with genuine happiness for her friend. "Congratulations Wander, ___." She said, enveloping them in a tight hug. "You deserve this, you both do."

The nomad returned the embrace, holding tighter than he normally would, as if seeking comfort from his oldest buddy. His eyes met the Zbornak's for a split second and he knew she could sense that all wasn't right. But of course, she only smiled and stepped back, allowing Awesome to congratulate them as well. 

The buff villain's eyes were filled with genuine joy as he gave Wander a heart clap on the back. "Congrats, man!" He said, a wide smile on his face. "You truly hit the jackpot with this one."

"More like her hit the jackpot with her." Hater muttered under his breath, but Dominator elbowed him in the side, silencing him. 

Despite his inner battle, the fuzzy hero managed a lighthearted laugh at the remark. He knew Hater's bitter tone was mostly for show, a product of his own insecurities and envy. "Yeah, I definitely hit the jackpot." He agreed, glancing at woman who was still blissfully unaware of his inner conflict, chuckling softly at his words.

"Well, of course he did. I'm amazing after all." She threw her hair back in an arrogant manner, a smirk appearing on her lips, but then laughed some more.

Wander glanced at her affectionately. Even in his inner dilemma, her confident, sassy demeanor couldn't help but amuse him. "You're full of yourself." He teased, lightly pinching her side, which earned him a playful punch on the arm.

The skeleton rolled his eyes again, clearly growing tired of this display of affection. "Ugh, get a room, you two." He grumbled, but Dominator elbowed him once more, signaling him to shut up.

Despite the comment, the atmosphere remained light and cheerful as the guests continued offering their congratulations and well wishes. But Wander's inner turmoil still nagged at him, the feeling of wrongness still lingering like a shadow in the back of his mind. He forced himself to stay focused on the celebrations, to keep up the charade of happiness, to push down the guilt and confusion that threatened to consume him. 

He was supposed to be happy, this was his day after all.

"Oh, come on, Hater." He replied, his voice filled with good-natured teasing. "You know you're happy for us." 

Hater huffed, trying to maintain his grumpy facade. "Me? Happy for you?" He scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "In your dreams, fuzzball." However, he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"He's lying." Sylvia rolled her eyes playfully, muttering the words to the bride, stage whispering loud enough for everyone to hear. "He actually sobbed like a maniac during the ceremony."

The skeleton lord spluttered in protest, his face turning red. "WHAT?!?! I DID NO SUCH THING!" He exclaimed, his voice cracking. His girlfriend chuckled beside him, enjoying his embarrassment wholeheartedly because, of course, she thrived on chaos. 

The zbornak smirked at the reaction. "Oh really, Hater?" She taunted, raising an eyebrow. "So you're telling me I hallucinated those fat tears streaming down your cheeks?"

At that Dominator groaned dramatically, shaking her head. "Ugh, don't remind me. He was bawling his eyes out so hard, he almost snot-bombed my dress." She looked at her partner with a mix of disgust and fondness. "I had to pat his face with a napkin like a baby. It was pathetic." And just as she said those words, the person in question glared at her, but it only made her snicker slightly. 

Wander stifled a laugh, despite his earlier sorrowfulness. Sylvia, however, didn't even try to contain her amusement. She let out a loud cackle, enjoying the banter. "Oh Hater, you're such a big softie at heart." She teased, poking him in the side. 

The villain huffed, looking flustered and embarrassed. "Oh, shut up, both of you!" He snapped, though his voice lacked genuine heat. 

Awesome, who had been quietly watching this exchange, chose that moment to chime in. "Aw, c'mon Hater." He said, grinning widely. "There's nothing wrong with feeling emotions. If you're Awesome that is." Saying that, he flexed his muscles, the force almost tearing open his suit, but he didn't seem to care about it much. 

Hater on the other hand shot him a glare, clearly not amused by his comment and shenanigans. "I have plenty of emotions, Awesome." He retorted sarcastically. "I just don't feel the need to blubber like a baby in public!" 

Sylvia chuckled. "Yeah, Hater, you're so emo. You should start a band. Maybe call it 'The Sobs of Doom'."  The woman teased him once again, earning a snort of laughter from ___.

With a roll of his eyes, the skeleton grumbled. "Oh, real mature, guys. You're all a bunch of jackasses." Though the corners of his mouth were still twitching with amusement. 

Wander, sensing it was time to intervene before his friend's grumpy facade crumbled completely, stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, come on, Hater." He said, his voice gentle. "It's all in good fun. We're just messin' with ya." At that he chuckled softly, taking a step back. "And I'm happy that you finally managed to not be all like-" He threw his hands in the air, gesturing wildly in a way that resembled the skeleton using his electric powers. "Raaa! I'M LORD HATER, NUMBER ONE SUPER STAR, AND I'm going to destroy yoooouuuuu!"  He mimicked the tone and vocal as best as he could.

Hater's face flushed with embarrassment. "Shut up, you furball!" 

The others laughed at that, enjoying the exchange. The bride however, couldn't resist adding something. "Oh, come one Hater, you can't deny that you have a flair for the dramatic." She looked him up and down and smirked. "You might as well be the king of edgelords." 

At that the villain's cheeks turned even redder. "I-I do NOT have a flair for the dramatic! I'm just-" He searched for the right word in panic. "PASSIONATE! YES, PASSIONATE!" He protested, struggling to maintain his grumpy demeanor. 

"Yeah, passionate about being a complete drama queen." Awesome added. 

The skeleton's teeth almost cracked as he gritted them in annoyance. But before he could say anything, Dominator wrapped her arm around his waist and tugged him closer to her. "My little pathetic edgelord." She teased, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "You should really start auditioning for melodramas." 

Hater, momentarily flustered by the sudden display of affection almost squeaked. However, he quickly recovered, putting on his grumpy face again. "I am not an edgelord." He grumbled, though there was less heat behind his words this time. 

Sylvia chuckled at that. "Yeah right, you probably have a 'My Chemical Romance' album on repeat or something like that." 

Wander smirked at the tease, joining in on the playful banter. "Yeah, he probably does. And I bet he's got a whole collection of black eyeliner in his bathroom drawer! Don't you, Hatey?"

The skeleton squawked in indignation. "I do NOT have any of those things! I'm not some brooding emo teenager, you guys! I'm a powerful villain! I'm cool!" As if to emphasize his point, he gestured at himself proudly, but his expression spoke otherwise. 

The nomad beamed proudly, reveling in the friendly banter. He felt a strange sense of happiness and comfort, a feeling that he had become accustomed to since he and his lover had started dating. Of course, he was always cheerful, but everything seemed to change for the better when he and his human lover joined souls. 

And yet, a flicker of worry lingered in the back of his mind as he stole a glance at Peepers, who was clearly grappling with mixed emotions as he approached the wedding party.

But it was probably nothing... right?

He did his best to shake off the uneasy sensation, instead forcing a wide smile as he turned towards the small alien. "Hey there, Mister Peepers! You're lookin' fancy today! How's it hangin'?!"  He waved at the newcomer, pushing away everything that tugged at his heart. 

Peepers gave a shaky smile to Wander, clearly trying to keep up a cheerful facade. "Hey there, everyone." He replied, his voice faltering slightly. "Congratulations, by the way. You two look... really happy." As he said that, a flash of sadness flickered in the one-eyed alien, his gaze lingering on the bride for far longer than it probably should.

Wander's keen eyes picked up on the subtle change in his tone and expression, sensing that there was something off about the usually snarky commander. He didn’t know why, but a pang of guilt tugged at his emotions. So, he furrowed his brow, trying to decipher the hidden emotions behind Peepers’ forced joy. He noticed the way that he glanced at his wife, and his curiosity piqued.

But Peepers quickly recovered. 

Turning to Hater and Dominator, a sly smile spread on his features. "And Sir, do I have to remind you how I had to listen to your musical genius whenever you wrote something new?" His eye narrowed teasingly as he crossed his arms. 

At that Hater's face flushed even more. "S-Shut up, Peepers!" He spluttered. "YOU PROMISED NOT TO BRING THAT UP!" He almost stomped his foot on the floor, like a teenager about to throw another tantrum. Basically, the skeletal lord's shenanigans. 

___ chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the villain's discomfort. "Oh, I'm intrigued." She said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked down at the watchdog. "Do tell, Peepers. What kind of musical genius did he come up with?"

As the woman turned her gaze to him, a playful spark in her orbs, the one-eyed alien felt a pang of melancholy wash over him. Memories of a past life, a timeline where they had shared something more than mere camaraderie, flooded his mind. The familiarity of her mischievous expression was both painfully nostalgic and distant, a stark reminder of what was once and what would never be again.

His heart ached as he tried to keep his composure in the face of such bittersweet thoughts.

And so he chuckled awkwardly, but then turned his gaze away, a desperate attempt at throwing away his troubled emotions. "Oh, where do I begin?" He looked at Hater, feigning deep concentration. "There was the epic opera about conquest and domination that lasted three hours, the power ballad about the injustice of not being taken seriously, and the thrash metal song about..." He looked up in wonder. "I don't even know what, but it was very screamy." 

Wander stifled a laugh at the description of Hater's musical "genius." He could only imagine the dramatic and overblown tunes the skeleton would've produced. He glanced over at his lover, curious to see her reaction.

And the woman snorted with laughter at that. "Oh, wow." She said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Hater, you are truly a man of many talents. You should consider a career as a heavy metal vocalist." She teased with a smirk. 

As the chuckle flew through the air, the watchdog's heart ached in his chest. He had missed that sound so much, and seeing her now, standing next to the star-nomad, made the memories of their past life together crash over him like a tidal wave. He clenched his fist and averted his gaze, his mind still swirling with conflicting emotions. But as their eyes met, he felt something inside of him stir, a flicker of familiar longing.

However, as the human's laughter faded and she looked down to meet Peepers' gaze, a strange sensation washed over her. 

What? Why did she...?

It was as if she had just woken up from a dream, a dream that now felt far too real. She had been happy in this life, with Wander, but seeing the one-eyed alien now, his face a mask of conflicting emotions... she felt... a pang of loneliness. She didn't understand why, but it was as if something inside of her recognized something. 

Recognized him.

Though before she could ponder, Dominator broke her chain of thought. "Oh, he's already got a band, don't you, you stupid dork?" She pat her boyfriend's arm sympathetically, yet with a hint of affectionate disgust. 

Hater grumbled once again, looking thoroughly embarrassed. "Shut up, all of you." He muttered, his face burning with shame.

As Wander continued to laugh and chat with his friends, his eyes often flickered towards his wife as well. He couldn't help but notice the way her gaze darted towards the watchdog in confusion every so often. It was a subtle thing, but he picked up on it. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, a small hint of worry starting to cloud his cheerful facade.

But he pushed it away.

It was his day, after all. 

Sylvia, who had always been a bit perceptive, noticed the Commander's strange behavior. Because of that she spoke up, her voice light-hearted. "Hey, Peepers, you're the only single one in our group now." 

At that Awesome wrapped his arms around the Zbornak, a teasing grin on his face. "Yeah, when are you goin' to find yourself a special someone, short-stack?"

Despite their lighthearted barbs and banter, Peepers' expression darkened at that question. He let out a half-hearted scoff, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. "I'm... not exactly looking for a relationship right now," He replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "I'm busy, you know that." A beat of silence followed as the one-eyed alien seemed to struggle to maintain his usual stoic facade, his eye betraying a deeper turmoil beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, Sylvia's eyes narrowed at Peepers' response, sensing that something was off about his reply. She was used to teasing banter, but there was a certain undertone of melancholy in his voice that piqued her interest. Sylvia exchanged a glance with Awesome, who tilted his head slightly, clearly picking up on the tension as well.

And then, Wander, too, couldn't help but notice the subtle cue given by the watchdog's strange behavior. He observed Peepers carefully, a small frown creasing his forehead.

And yet the smile never left his face.

Hater, having finally recovered from his moment of shame, turned to Peepers with a sly grin. "Oh, look at you, all by yourself. No special lady to keep you company, eh?" He snorted with laughter, clearly still trying to reclaim his usual self-assured persona.

Dominator, amused by the skeleton's audacity, quickly put him back in his place. "Like you're one to talk. I remember how flustered you were on our first date." She snickered. "You almost pissed yourself, loser."

A flush of heat rushed to the skeleton's face as his girlfriend brought up his embarrassing memory. The once confident leader sputtered and grumbled, trying to deny it. "W-What?! No, I didn't!" He protested, his voice higher-pitched. 

And as the group laughed at Hater's embarrassed reaction, Peepers found himself unable to join in. Memories of his own love flashed through his mind, only serving to deepen his melancholy.

Sylvia, as much as she enjoyed the banter, couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for the watchdog. The one-eyed alien's distant gaze and silent, almost sad demeanor didn't go unnoticed by her. She glanced at Wander, who was still attempting to maintain his cheerful smile, yet his eyes held a hint of worry.

Awesome tried to lighten the mood, jokingly slapping Peepers on the back. "Hey, at least you don't have to worry about anyone complaining about your snoring, right?"

The Commander offered a weak chuckle in response to the joke, appreciating the attempt at breaking the tension but unable to fully join in. His thoughts were swirling with a mixture of melancholy and regret, all stirred up by the banter and the sight of ___ with Wander. It was like being plunged headfirst into a pool of bittersweet memories. He tried to focus on the conversation, to act as if everything was normal, but his heart wasn't in it. Every laughter and every jab felt like a dagger in his chest, reminding him of what could have been.

What should have been.

"I-" He started as his eye locked with the bride. His eyelid furrowed lightly as his gaze darted over her features. No matter how many times he looked at her, she was always the most beautiful woman in the whole world to him. And it hurt. "I... it's just what I want. I don't need anyone, not really." 

Liar. 

Sylvia rolled her eyes slightly at the response. "Come on, Peepers." She teased, her voice dripping with skepticism. "You can't fool me. I know deep down, you're just a big ol' softie who wants to hold hands and go on dates like the rest of us." 

The watchdog's heart ached as he attempted to brush off Sylvia's taunts, but deep down, he knew she was right. He had spent years repressing his emotions and focusing on his duties as Hater's commander, but now, faced with the woman he loved happily married to someone else... it was nearly too much to bear. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. "No, I'm... I'm perfectly fine, really." He replied, his voice faltering just slightly. "I have my work and... and that's all I need."

___ crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow as she studied his face. She could see right through his facade, to the turmoil beneath. "Oh, really? You think you're fooling anyone?"

Wander, too, had been silently observing the interaction. He could see the pain behind Peepers' words, the ache in the one-eyed alien's heart. It tugged at his own, a mixture of pity and guilt.

No, he couldn't feel guilty. 

Awesome chimed in, his tone light but tinged with a hint of sympathy. "Yeah, man, even if you don't want to admit it, you gotta have a life outside of being Hater's punching bag." The term was so familiar... both to the bride and the watchdog.

Hater, who had calmed down and now resumed his pompous persona, chuckled at that. "Ha! As if anyone could handle being by his side." He gestured towards Peepers, earning a sharp glare from the watchdog.

The one-eyed alien felt increasingly overwhelmed. His eye flickered nervously, a maelstrom of emotions raging within him. He opened his mouth to snap back at Hater's comment, but his voice caught in his throat. A thousand different replies were on the tip of his tongue, but none of them seemed to fit. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of conflicting feelings and memories, struggling to keep his head above water. But the second-in-command had to compose himself, so with a sigh leaving him as he looked at the newlyweds, forcing a smile on his face once more. "I'm.. just happy that you are." Then he gestured to each couple that stood beside him.

"All of you."

The group, perhaps sensing his discomfort, eventually relented and shifted their attention back to other conversation topics. They continued to chat and exchange congratulations, but every so often, the Commander's eye would dart over to the human, a hint of sadness that he couldn't quite put into words that anyone would be able to understand. 

But she noticed. 

Despite her being caught up in all the joyful chatter and laughter, ___ couldn't help but see the occasional glances in her direction from the watchdog. At first, she dismissed it as him just being weird or maybe even checking her out, but the frequency and depth of those stares made her feel a strange sensation. It was as if he was searching for something in her face. And because of that, her curiosity aroused. So, as the talking continued, she found herself stealing glances back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. Every time their eyes met, he would quickly look away, his expression betraying a hint of discomfort and uncertainty. It made her feel like there was something hidden beneath Peepers' usual grumpy exterior. 

Soon, she decided it was time to confront him directly. 

While the others were distracted by their conversation, she approached him quietly and spoke in a low voice. "You okay there, Peepers?" She asked gently, her voice merely a whisper that only he would be able to hear.

The almost jumped, surprised that she had noticed his brief moment. He tried to compose himself, clearing his throat. "I'm fine, I just... zoned out." He muttered, avoiding her gaze.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, not quite believing his excuse. "Right..." She said skeptically. "You're zoning out... by staring at me?" She almost chuckled. 

He flinched at her words, realizing that he had been caught. "I-I was just.. looking at everyone." He replied, quietly, but immediately knew that she wasn't buying it.

And so the woman tilted her head to the side. "Peepers, you're not fooling anyone you know. Especially not me." 

It was true, he could never fool her, even if he tried to. Because of that he felt a lump forming in his throat as she looked at him, her gaze steady and perceptive. He tried to act nonchalant, but deep down he knew he couldn't deny it. She had always been too observant, too damn good at seeing through him. So he forced himself to chuckle, trying to somehow play it off. "Am I really that obvious?" He asked, averting his orb again. 

At that she smirked. "You're about as subtle as a supernova." She said playfully, crossing her arms over her chest. "You think I can't see right through you? Pft.. give me some credit." With a roll of her eyes, she looked back to see if anyone was watching them. For a second, her gaze lingered on Wander, her husband, and she smiled softly as if to let him know not to worry, before turning back to the short watchdog. "So, are you gonna tell me what's really going on?" 

The star-nomad stood a few steps away, watching anxiously as his lover looked back at him while talking to the watchdog. His heart was beating faster than ever before, his mind racing with a swirling whirlwind of emotions. The sight of the two of them together, deep in conversation, made him feel a strange mixture of curiosity, confusion, and.. a tinge of jealousy?

No, Wander was anything but jealous.

He trusted his love with all his heart. There was no reason to doubt her or be envious of her conversations with others. Yet, as they talked quietly, a part of him couldn't help but wonder. What were they discussing? What were they feeling? He could see the way Peepers looked at her, the way his eye seemed to gleam with a mixture of sadness and yearning, and it made Wander's stomach twist into knots. He tried to push those thoughts away, scolding himself for his irrationality. The human woman loved him, that's all that mattered. She had chosen him, had married him, and had assured him time and time again that he was the one she wanted to spend her life with. There was nothing to worry about, or so he told himself. But as he watched them from afar, the seed of doubt and uncertainty planted itself deep in his heart, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

He fidgeted, unconsciously gripping the sleeves of his wedding attire a little tighter. He could feel the tension in his chest, tightness in his throat. It was a strange sensation, this mixture of trust and insecurity. He had always prided himself on being carefree and cheerful, but now, as he watched her and Peepers, the carefree nature of the star wanderer seemed to desert him, replaced by a more grounded, yet anxious feeling.

But she was his. At least in this life. 

So he didn't have to worry.

The two, not noticing Wander's gaze, continued their conversation. The Commander hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not he should say anything. But the truth was, he wanted to tell her. He needed to. So he drew a deep breath, his eye locked with hers. "It's... complicated." He managed to say, his voice low and quiet. 

At that the woman's expression softened slightly, sensing that this was more serious than she had anticipated. She took a small step closer to him, crouching down so she could look into his orb fully on the same level. "You know you can talk to me, right? Even if it's complicated." Her tone was gentle, not pushy or judgmental, as if she really wanted to understand. It was like something in her was also searching for an answer... to her own questions. 

Peepers swallowed, feeling his heart rate quicken at her closeness. "Yeah, I... I know. It's just..." He trailed off, not sure how to explain the tangle of memories and emotions swirling inside him.

___ studied him silently for a beat, her expression thoughtful. She could sense the turmoil he was trying to conceal, the weight of suppressed feelings. And so, without saying a word, she reached out and took his hand, her fingers wrapping around his with a surprising gentleness. 

And in that moment, something cracked. 

The moment, her slender, cool touch slipped into the watchdog's own, the memories spilled out like water from an overflowing cup. A flood of images, sensations, and emotions overwhelmed him, drowning in a swirl of familiarity. In this moment, Peepers was no longer in the Yonder Galaxy, attending the wedding with his friends, and ___ was no longer the sweet and sometimes cheeky human he had come to begrudgingly respect and accept as Wander's wife.

He was back in a different timeline, one they both knew all too well.

Memories rushed to the forefront of his mind, scenes from a life lived once before. In that timeline, he and her were not just allies; they were lovers, partners bound by a love so potent, it defied the very stars themselves.

He remembered her cold demeanor, her sharp tongue and her stubbornness, and how every smug barb she threw at him was her way of protecting herself. She pushed him away, refused to let him get close, but he persisted, relentlessly chasing after her. He knew, even then, that beneath her tough exterior lay a heart yearning to be free and to be loved. He had seen that heart, he had cradled in his own hands.

The memories came in wave after wave, each one bringing with it a rush of sensation. He remembered the feeling of her skin against his, the taste of her lips, the sound of her laugh when she thought no one was listening. He remembered the arguments, the fights, the make-ups and the forgiveness. He remembered the moments of vulnerability when she allowed herself to be cared for, and how he had promised himself to cherish every moment. 

Every single one.

As the waves continued, he relived every moment they spent together. The battles they fought, the conquests they made, the shared glances, and the stolen kisses when no one was looking. He remembered the day he had proposed, how he had watched the surprise and vulnerability wash over her face. He remembered the wedding day, where he had sworn to be her everything, always. He remembered it all, as if it has happened just yesterday. He remembered the night they had spent together, on their wedding night, how she had let her guard down, to allow him to see her fully, to love her fully. He remembered the way she had looked at him in the candlelight, her eyes as brilliant and warm as twin stars, a small smile playing on her lips. He remembered how she had clung to him, how she had whispered her love into his ear when she thought he was asleep.

It all washed over him like a storm tide, making his heart ache. He had loved her, so deeply that it was etched into every fiber of his entire existence. In that other timeline, they had been everything to each other, they had been each other's home and haven. 

And then, like a flame snuffed out in the wind, the memories ended.

Now, standing in the Yonder Galaxy, surrounded by his friends, Peepers was left reeling. He clutched the woman's hand tightly, trying to anchor himself in the here and now. The memories still echoed in his mind, so vivid and sharp that they may have happened only moments ago. For a second, he thought that he experienced it by himself once again.

But as he looked into her eyes, he realized that he didn't.

In the depths of her gaze, he saw the same maelstrom of conflicting emotions reflected back at him. She had experienced the same memories, felt the same heart-wrenching ache, and now stood before him in the present moment, torn between the past and the present. He could read it in her expression, the same mixture of shock, anguish, and confusion mirrored in his own heart. They had once been lovers, in a different time and place, and the memories of that love had crashed upon them like a tidal wave, leaving them breathless.

And then, as if the woman before him changed, a smirk appeared on her lips.

Peepers couldn't help but notice the all too familiar glint in her eyes. It was a look that he had seen countless times before, and despite the surprise and confusion he was feeling, it brought a flutter to his stomach. He felt a jolt of both worry and excitement, not knowing what to expect next. And so her smile widened, her gaze never leaving his. "Well well," She said, her voice playful. "Looks like we've got quite a predicament on our hands, don't we, Commander?"

Peepers swallowed hard, his mind racing. He was used to her sass, her quick wit and sharp tongue. He had learned to anticipate it, and even to enjoy it, despite the annoyance. But this wasn't just any sass, this was sass laced with something more.

"___..." he began, his voice hoarse. "What--"

"Shhh." She said, silencing him with a finger on his lips. Her touch sent a shiver down his spine, and he tried, and failed, to ignore it.

He wanted to speak, to ask the thousand and one question running through his mind, but her touch had him ensnared. Her finger on his lips (or perhaps where his lips should be), the smirk on her face, it was so familiar and yet so foreign all at once. He felt a mixture of surprise, confusion, and a strange sense of... comfort.

And so he swallowed, feeling his heart rate quicken at her tone. He knew it all too well. It was the same she used when she was up to no good, or when she was about to drop some smug comment and get under his skin. Because of that he grumbled, trying to hide the effect she was having on him in that moment. "Don't be cheeky." 

At that the woman tilted her head to the side, clearly amused by his attempt to stay in composure. "Oh, come on." She teased, her grip on his hand still firm. "You know you missed it. That's my whole shtick." She leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a low murmur. 

"Or did you forget that too?"

Peepers' heart almost burst out of his chest as she stepped closer. He could practically feel the heat radiating off her, and it was making it difficult to think straight. "Of course I didn't forget." He retorted, trying to maintain a steady tone. "How could I, with you being, well..." He trailed off, his gaze wandering from her eyes to her lips, then back up again. "...you."

For a moment, she stared at him with those hollow eyes of hers. 

With a small hum, she looked at him softly. "I know what's bothering you." The tint in her orbs sparked with sadness. "Us." A small, sorrow-filled chuckle escaped her. "But don't worry... our story isn't over yet. Soon we'll see each other again, I assure you." 

Peepers stared at her, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He was acutely aware of the way his breath hitched, and how his body seemed to lean towards her, despite his efforts to keep a neutral expression. Her words echoed in his mind like a prophecy, stirring up a wave of conflicting emotions within him. Our story isn't over yet. We'll see each other again. He felt a wave of hope rise in his chest, even as he tried to dismiss the thought as foolish. He looked up, surprise and a glimmer of hope sparking in his scarlet eye. How could she just... know?

But then again, this was ___. 

She had always seen through him more than anyone else.

He squeezed her hand back, his fingers tightening around hers as if he was desperate to hold onto her. "Is that... a promise?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The woman smiled, a sad yet hopeful smile. "It's a promise." She confirmed, her voice soft but firm. "This isn't the end. We'll see each other again, I know it." Peepers' heart ached with the weight of her words. He believed her, though he didn't know how it could possibly be true. For now, he held onto the hope that this wasn't the end.

Yet as he watched her let go and stand up, the reality returned.

In this universe, she was Wander's.

His heart ached, the reality of this situation crashing back in on him. In this universe, she was the star-nomad's wife. Not his. The thought was like a punch to the gut, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and loss. His whole soul trembled, knowing they couldn't be together in this lifetime, but he pushed those feelings down and tried to focus on the promise they had made. He had to hold onto that. He had to believe that they would see each other again, even if it seemed impossible right now.

He glanced back at her, and they shared a brief moment of understanding before awkwardly joining the others in celebration once more, trying to push away the lingering emotions and memories that had just threatened to overwhelm them. 

The group of friend continued their lively chatter, blissfully unaware of the quiet exchange that had just taken place. Sylvia and Awesome shared a laugh, while Hater and Dominator engaged in a light banter. Wander watched as the woman of his dreams rejoined the group, his cheerful smile on his face as he wrapped his arms around her affectionately. He had seen the exchange between her and Peepers, the look in their eyes, and the way they had held each other's hands. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he just pulled her closer, holding her against him as if to say she's mine.

But it wasn't a possessive gesture, not really. 

It was a reminder for himself only. 

He knew something had happened between them, something significant. But it was his and hers wedding day. He was determined to remain happy, regardless of the lingering tension in the air. That's why, for the time being, he pushed everything away. 

And so the wedding continued. 

Every now and then, the Commander would find himself stealing a glance at the human female, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. And every time she caught his eye, she would offer him a small, reassuring smile, silently telling him that she hadn't forgotten her promise. 

As the celebration carried on, the tension between Wander and his wife was palpable. However, they both did their best to push it aside and focus on the joyous occasion. They didn't speak to each other about what had occurred between her and Peepers. Wander found himself occasionally stealing glances at ___, studying her features, his heart quickening whenever their eyes would meet. But for now, he tried to maintain his cheery veneer, pretending like nothing was amiss.

Despite everything that had happened, the newlyweds continued to celebrate their union happily. They danced together, laughed, and mingled with their friends, never letting the lingering tension cast a shadow over their special day. Wander clung to her side, his arms wrapped around her waist as they swayed to the music. Every now and then, he would lean in and place a kiss on her cheek or her forehead, his heart swelling with love for his new wife. Everyone around them could see the happiness radiating off the couple, and it filled the air with a joyous atmosphere. Throughout the night, Wander's focus was almost entirely on her. He couldn't keep his hands off her, constantly finding excuses to touch her, hold her close, and shower her with affection. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear and danced with her every chance he got. As the hours passed, it was clear to everyone how enamored Wander was with his new bride. His eyes sparkled with love and admiration every time he looked at her, and his heart raced every time she laughed. It was as if the world had disappeared for him, and the only thing that mattered was his wife.

But as much as Wander tried to pretend everything was perfect, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Every time he caught a glimpse of Peepers, he was reminded of the way he and ___ looked at each other, that they shared a moment of... something. 

Because of that, despite his own feelings for the human woman, the star-nomad realized that her happiness was the most important thing to him. He knew that something had happened between the two, and it was eating away at both of them.

He observed them carefully, seeing the glances and subtle exchanges that suggested unresolved tension. Wander recognized that they needed to talk, to address whatever it was that had passed between them. He didn't fully comprehend the depth of their connection, but he understood that his wife needed closure to truly move on. And although the thought of - perhaps - losing her hurt, he chose to prioritize her well-being over his own.

And so, as the night wore on, the energy began to wind down. Hater an Dominator bid their goodbyes, leaving to enjoy the privacy of their own company. Soon after, Sylvia and Awesome announced their intention to retire as well. Wander, as cheerful as ever, waved to every leaving quest in pure joy. 

Then, he turned to face his home.

The nomad smiled faintly, his expression one of knowing. "Hey, darlin'" He gently took her hand in his, his eyes searching for that beautiful glow in hers. "Can I... talk to you for a sec?"

___, sensing the seriousness in her husband's touch, squeezed his hand in response. "Of course, sweetheart. What is it?" She tilted her head to the side slightly, her own emotions bottled up within the deepest depths of her very being. Though in the end, she loved her lover. Truly. 

And he knew that too. 

So he led her over to a quiet corner, away from Peepers that was also getting ready to leave. The orange alien looked up at her with a mixture of concern and understanding. "Listen." He began, his voice soft. "I don't want to overstep or anything, but... I couldn't help but notice the vibe between you and Mister Peepers earlier." 

The woman tensed slightly, not expecting him to bring it up so directly. 

She forced a casual smile, trying to play it off. "Oh, that?" She replied, waving a hand dismissively. "It's nothing, really. Just a small goodbye between old... acquaintances." She looked to the side, to where the watchdog stood far away near one of the massive tables. 

And upon noticing her behavior, Wander's gaze softened further, and he reached for her chin, gently turning her face back to him. "___, darlin', I know you better than that." He said quietly. "You can fool the others, maybe even Peepers, but not me." Faintly, he tilted his head to the side while looking up at her, his features as warm as ever. "There's something more between you two... isn't there?"

He knew.

The human's smile faltered. "Wander, I..." She hesitated, her orbs flicking down. She hadn't expected him to see through her so easily. The urge to lie, to protect him from the truth, was strong. But looking into his eyes, into that pure, understand gaze, she knew she couldn't do it. No matter how much her soul ached to do the other. "Alright." She said finally, her voice low. "I can't lie to you. You're right. There is something... more between us." Then her stare intensified, almost pleading. "But I swear it's nothing like what you and I have!" She shook her head, waving her hands softly to emphasize her point. "You have to believe me. What you and I have.. it's everything to me. I love you, more than anything." 

Wander's expression became more soothing, and he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. He knew she was telling the truth. "I believe you." He said, his voice a gentle assurance. "What you and I have is... unmatched. I love you more than words can say. But that doesn't change the fact... there's something between the two of you that needs to be addressed." For a moment he looked down at his feet, but then, a weak smile appeared on his lips. 

"I want to be the one to help you do that."

The woman's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and concern filling them. "Wander.. what are you suggesting?" She searched his face, trying to decipher his intentions. She hadn't expected him to want to offer aid, let alone encourage her to confront her feelings for the watchdog. 

Seeing her expression, the nomad's smile slightly trembled, as there was a hint of sadness in his orbs. He reached into the pocket of his formal jacket and pulled out a keycard. "I want you to take this." Saying that, he handed the object to her, placing it firmly in her palm. "It's the key to our room... the one we were supposed to spend our wedding night in."

What?

His wife looked at the keycard, realization slowly dawning on her. Her heart felt like it was caught in her throat. "Wander, you... you can't be serious." She whispered, softly shaking her head. "You're suggesting that I... spend the night with another man... on our wedding night?"

Wander's eyes were soft and understanding as he watched her process his words. The depth of his love for her was evident in his expression, even as he suggested something that went against the traditional norms of their culture. "Darlin', I know this sounds crazy, but I truly believe it's what needs to be done." He spoke, his voice laced with a hint of sadness. "You and I both know that there's something left unfinished. Whether it's closure, or a moment of catharsis..." He paused, his thumb gently stroking her hand. "I just want you to be happy."

The orange alien sighed softly, his gaze never leaving her eyes. "I don't care if you just talk, or if you..." He swallowed hard, his voice becoming even softer. "...If you kiss, or if you even end up doing... more." The last part hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Despite the gravity of his words, his smile remained warm and affectionate. He held her gaze steadily, completely earnest in his words. "I just want you to have the closure you need. And if it means spending the night with another man on our wedding night, then so be it."

Wander was utterly and completely selfless. 

As ___  gazed into his eyes, she could see the depth of love and understanding in his warm irises. But beneath it all, there was also a hint of sadness and resignation. It was clear that he was offering this as a sacrifice, a way for her to find closure with her former comrade. However, the thought of spending the night with someone other than Wander, on their own wedding day, was a painful one for her.

With a small sigh, he reached out and gently grasped her other hand, his voice soft. "I know it's a big ask. I know it's not fair to... us. But I just want you to be happy." He paused, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. "And if this is what it takes for you to find closure, then I'm willing to give it to you." He looked to the side for a moment, before returning his gaze to hers. "But if I can be selfish just once..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locked on the ones of his wife, his expression both serious and earnest. "Promise me that you'll come back to me, no matter what happens. That you'll come back to your weird, orange nomad who loves you more than anything in the universe." His voice trembled slightly. "Please."

She could see the vulnerability in Wander's eyes, the fear and uncertainty in his expression. It was a stark contrast to his usual cheerful demeanor, and it tugged at her heartstrings in a way she hadn't expected. She was used to his boundless optimism and relentless positivity, but now she was seeing a side of him that was raw and unguarded.

Her heart ached at the conflicting emotions warring within her. On one hand, her love for the nomad was stronger than ever. She had just married the man she loved more than anything, and here he was, asking her to spend the night with another man. On the other hand, she knew he was right. The unresolved history between her and Peepers would always linger unless something was done.

She held the keycard tightly, her orbs flickering back and forth between her husband's face and the object in her hand. After a moment of silence, she found the strength to speak. "Wander." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "You're... you're the most ridiculously selfless person I've ever met." She looked down at him, her gaze mirroring the depth of her love and appreciation for him. "I... I don't know what to say. This.. this is not what I was expecting on our wedding night."

Because after all, who would?

The alien smiled faintly, his heart both light with her words and heavy with the situation at hand. "Neither was I." He admitted quietly, his fingers brushing softly against her cheek. "But.. I love you, darlin'. And I want us to have a future free from any... distractions or lingering shadows from the past. I want us to move forward together, and I want to be able to call you mine, fully and completely, without any doubts or questions." 

And at that, the woman's eyes welled up with unshed tears. 

She knew how much Wander was sacrificing for her, for them. This kind of selflessness was almost unheard of. "You're asking me to do something that... most husbands wouldn't even consider letting their wives do." She said quietly. "But you.. you're making it about me, about us. You're putting aside your own feelings and..." Her hand moved to the corners of one of her orbs, wiping away the droplets that were about to spill. "Gods... it's insane."

He chuckled faintly, a flicker of humor in his voice. "But when has anything I've done ever not been insane?" He gently took both of her hands in his once again, his thumbs tracing small circles over her knuckles. It was a soft, gentle gesture, full of tenderness and love. "Love, you know me. I don't do things by half measures. I don't do things just for the sake of doing them. I do things because I believe in them, because I believe... in us."

As she listened to his words, she felt her resolve cracking. She knew he was right. She knew that this was about closure and moving forward. She knew that this was about them. "Y-You're a fool." She choked out, a tear spilling down her cheek as she spoke. "You're a.. a complete and utter fool. You're asking me to... to spend the night with another man. On our wedding night. How could you possibly ask me to do something like that?"

Wander's expression crumbled for a moment at her words. The pain etched across his face was undeniable, but there was also an understanding in his eyes. He knew that this was a difficult thing to ask of anyone, much less the person you love. He held her gaze, his voice soft and gentle. "Because I love you, darlin'." He said, his voice quavering with emotion. "I love you enough to put my own feelings aside, to put my own needs aside, to... to do whatever it takes for you to be happy. Completely, truly happy."

The woman let out a shaky breath, trying to keep it together. His words were both soothing and heartbreaking at the same time. She knew that his love for her was pure and absolute, and yet he was willing to let her go, even on their wedding night. It was maddening, and yet, it was also...

...beautiful. 

She looked at him, her heart overflowing. "Wander." She whispered. "You're... truly one of a kind. I don't deserve you." 

At that he chuckled once more, shaking his head. "Aw, you don't give yourself enough credit." He said, his voice low. "You're the strongest, bravest, most incredible person I know. And you deserve a love as selfless as yours." He gently lifted her hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "And you have it. In me. Always and forever."

At that the woman's heart ached. His words were like a warm embrace, wrapping around her and holding her together. She didn't know what she had ever done to deserve a man like him, but she was eternally grateful. And so she looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "But..." She whispered again, her vocal hoarse. "...what if I don't come back? What if... I won't be able to?"

Wander's eyes softened even more, if it were possible. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks once more. "___" He murmured, his voice filled with certainty. "You will come back. Always. You're strong, you're smart, and you, above all else, are mine." He tilted his head to the side softly. "Whatever happens between you two, I have complete faith that you'll always find your way back to me."

The human's orbs searched his, looking for any hint of doubt or uncertainty. But there was none. His conviction was absolute in his belief that she would come back to him.

She trembled, the emotions surging through her body almost too much to bear. She clutched the keycard tightly in her hand, the cold, solid metal grounding her. "I... I will come back." She whispered, the words more for herself than for him.

"I promise."

And upon hearing her words, Wander's smile brightened, his eyes lighting up with hope and relief. "That's my girl." He said quietly, giving her cheek a final, gentle caress. "You always keep your promises." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. "And I'll be right here, waiting for you." He murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "Whenever you're ready to come home."

She buried her face in his form, holding onto him like a lifeline. His words and his touch were a soothing balm for the nerves that were threatening to consume her. She took a depp shaky breath, inhaling the familiar scent of him. She was so lucky. So incredibly to have her star-nomad husband, to have this. Even with the uncertainty hanging over their heads, she knew that his love, and his faith in her, would be her guiding light. 

Wander held her tightly. He could feel her shaking, the emotions coursing through her no doubt overwhelming. But he didn't press or pry. He just held her, letting her take whatever time she needed to collect herself. After a few minutes, he spoke softly, his voice a gentle rumble against her face. "I believe in you." He whispered. "I trust you. And I love you more than I could ever express." 

She took another deep breath, her heart steadying with each beat. Slowly, she pulled back, looking down at him with shimmering orbs. "I love you too." She whispered. "More than words can say. And I will come back to you. I promise. I just..." She looked down, her fingers clenching around the keycard, "I just need to see this through. For us."

The man nodded, his expression filled with understanding. "I know." He said softly, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks tenderly. "And I wouldn't expect anything less from you. You're the most determined person I know, and that's one of the many reasons I love you." He kissed her forehead gently, his lips lingering on her skin. "Go on." He murmured against her hairline. "Go talk to Peepers. And then..." For a moment his breath shook. "...come back to me." 

D̴o̶n̷'̷t̵ ̵l̸e̸a̵v̷e̴ ̸m̷e̷.̸

___ bit her lip, her heart skipping a beat at his plea. She could hear the hint of worry in his voice, beneath the layer of reassurance. She knew he was worried, as much as he was trying to be supportive. But she also knew that he believed in her, perhaps more than she believed in herself. And so, with a final embrace, she stepped back, separating herself from his warmth. She looked at him for a moment, committing his face to memory. Then, with a resolute nod, she turned and walked towards the short watchdog, who was still ready but not entirely to love the party. 

Wander watched as she walked away, his heart clenching in his chest. He knew that this was necessary, and he had willingly given her his blessing to go, but it didn't make it any easier to let go. But he stayed where he was, his gaze fixed on her retreating form, silently wishing her to return to him. The uncertainty of the situation gnawed at him, but he pushed the doubt away. He had faith in her, and he had faith in their love. He just needed to trust that she would come back to him. No matter what. 

With a soft sigh, he let his arms drop to his sides.

He needed something to take his mind off the situation. His gaze drifted to the sky above, the expanse of darkness spattered with stars that glimmered with a cold, distant light. They seemed taunting to him in that moment, a cruel reminder of just how vast the universe was.

Pushing the thought aside, he reached into his hat and drew out his banjo. It was a familiar, comforting sight, one that always soothed his soul. He settled down on the ground, his legs folded beneath him. The grass was cool and dewey beneath him, but he didn't mind. He strummed a few experimental chords, the sound of the strings breaking through the silence of the night. The more he played, the more he found himself getting lost in the music. His fingers moved over the strings with practiced ease, the notes of the familiar songs filling the air. The tension slowly began to slip from his shoulders as he played, his focus shifting from the worry to the music. 

This was his escape, his means of finding solace in the chaos.

As ___ approached the watchdog Commander, she could see the mix of emotions written in scarlet eye. He looked just as conflicted as she felt. They stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them palpable. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice soft but firm. "We need to talk." 

Peepers swallowed, his orb flickering with both uncertainty and resignation. "I know." He said quietly, looking up at her, meeting that familiar gaze directly. "What do you want to say?"

At that the woman took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. This conversation had to happen; it was long overdue. But that didn't make it any less difficult. "I... I don't want to hurt you." She began, her tone low. "But there's something we need to clear up. You and me. This." She gestured between them. "But not here. Come on." With that, she firmly grasped his hand, leading him to the hotel room her husband gave her the key to. The man, though visibly surprised, didn't say anything.

He knew, just as much as her, that this was necessary. 

As they finally reached the place and closed the door, the silence tugged at their heartstrings. 

The hotel room was a reflection of the lavishness of the wedding. It featured fine furniture and elegant finishes, the lights dimmed low and a hint of romantic incense lingering in the air. The large bed in the center of the room was covered in silken red sheets, the plush duvet spread over the mattress. A small table tucked into the corner of the room held a tray of champagne and two glasses, waiting to be filled.

Peepers couldn't help but compare the hotel room to their own wedding night, long ago and in a different lifetime. The silk sheets, the dim lighting, it all was a familiar sight. The bed where they had spent the first night as husband and wife, giggling and laughing until they collapsed into each other's arms. He looked up at the woman, the conflicted emotions swirling in his scarlet eye. A silent question hung in the air between them. "It's... almost exactly the same, isn't it?" Maybe it was due to his nerves, but he tried to find some humor in this situation.

She gave a tight smile, nodding silently. It was eerie, the familiarity of the room, the way it almost mirrored the one they'd spent their own wedding night in. It seemed like a cruel twist of fate, as if the universe itself was taunting them. "Almost. But... not quite." She agreed quietly. Her voice softened slightly, a hint of melancholy coloring her next words. "No champagne and no laughter this time."

The watchdog didn't respond to that, the reminder of the vast differences between this lifetime and the one he remembered hitting him harder than he would like to admit. He walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and staring at the ground. He felt her eyes on him, silently watching. The silence was almost too much to bear, the tension in the room nearly palpable. Finally, he looked up at her. "So... what do you want to... say?"

At that, she crouched in front of the bed, in front of him so that their eyes were on the same level. "We need to talk, Commander." She said softly, her gaze fixed on him. "And I need you to listen to me. Really listen."

He swallowed, feeling an unease stirring within him. He knew that this was going to be a difficult conversation, but he also knew that she was right. They did need to talk. He could do this. "I'm listening." He replied quietly, his voice betraying his anxiety.

The memory of their life together in the other universe loomed over them like a spectre, an aching reminder of what they could've had in this one. He shoved the thought aside, focusing instead on the woman in front of him, the woman he still loved, despite everything.

The human's gaze softened as he finally spoke, grabbing his small hand in hers. "You keep living your life." she said, her words tinged with a hint of resignation. "You keep waiting for the day when we can be together again. Because that day will come."

"I don't care how long it takes." Peepers replied immediately, his orb burning with a passionate glare. "I'll wait for you forever, if I have to. I'll keep waiting until we can be together again."

Her eyes softened further at his passionate response, an almost sad smile tugging at her lips. The love he had for her was unwavering, a constant in a lifetime of uncertainty. "I know you will. You've always been so... determined." She said, gently squeezing his hand. "But that's exactly what I want to talk to you about..." Her eyes darted over his features. "Promise me." She whispered, her voice barely above a breath. 

The man nodded, his hand reaching for her cheek as his fingers traced the outline. The feel of her skin under his hand sent a shiver down his spine, a mixture of joy and longing swelling within him. "Anything." He said, rough with emotion. "Just tell me what it is."

Because for her, he would jump into hell and beyond. 

And knowing that, she smiled weakly. "Promise me you'll be happy." She said, her voice a little choked. "That you'll make the most of this life, even without me." Saying that, she reached out and touched his cheek, the sight of his determined expressions making her heart do backflips. "You have so much to give, Commander." Her words hung in the air, a weighty plea that he couldn't just ignore. 

As her declaration sunk in, Peepers felt a lump form in his throat. He knew she was right - he had a life to live, a purpose to fulfill. But the thought of doing it all without her by his side was enough to bring a sting of tears to his eye. Pulling her closer, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against his small form. "I... I'll try." He mumbled, his voice a mixture of determination and sorrow. "But it won't be the same." 

Not without you.

Then, he managed to get the courage to speak up. "Why... Wander?" He trembled slightly, his hand shaking as he held it against her hair. "I know that this is a different universe, but still, why did you... choose him over me?"

Her gaze softened even more as she heard the pain in his tone.

"It's not about choosing one over the other, Commander." She said gently, her arms wrapping around his waist. "Each of you has your own unique journey, your own path. And in this universe, the path I was meant to take was to fall in love with Wander." She pulled back for a moment, her expression filled with sympathy and understanding. "It has nothing to do with who you are as a person. I don't love you less because of it."

Peepers felt his heart cracking inside his chest, the pain of her words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. But at the same time, he knew she was telling the truth. It was cruel, how the universe worked sometimes, but they each had their roles to play. "I... I understand." He murmured, his voice a mere whisper. He still struggled to come to terms with the reality of this universe, the fact that she had chosen someone else. "But... why?" He asked, the question laced with frustration and despair. "Why did your path have to lead to him and not me?"

She took a deep breath, her fingers gently tracing patterns on his back. "Because in this universe, Wander and I were destined to find each other." She explained softly. "Our stories were always intertwined, in a way that yours and mine weren't here. This is just the way things had to be." Her gaze was filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope as she looked at the bed sheets behind him. "But that doesn't mean our love is any less real. In another universe, another time, we will find each other again."

The man felt a pang in his chest as he heard her words, the weight of her certainty pressing down on him like a heavy stone. Her conviction that there was a universe for them, somewhere out in the vast expanse of existence, was both reassuring and heartbreaking. It gave him hope but also filled him with despair, the knowledge that his heart would forever yearn for something he could not have. "How... how can you be so sure?" He whispered, his voice laced with pain. "How do you know that there's a universe for us somewhere out there?" He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair, willing himself not to break down. Despite the pain of the moment, her words gave him a sliver of comfort. Perhaps there was a universe out there where they were meant to be together.

"You know there is, Commander." She chuckled softly, but the tears in her tone could be heard. "I remember everything, just like you." Saying that, she hugged him closer. "How.. I was a villain, the only human in the whole universe, wanting to use you to conquer the Yonder Galaxy." Her eyes became hollow as she spoke, but then the emotion was replaced with warmth. "How... I fell for you in the process, no matter how much I wanted to deny it." She laughed again softly. "And how.... you never gave up on me. No matter how many times I hurt you or the others." 

Then, her voice became shaky. "And how in my most vulnerable moment, you saved me from myself." For a second, there was a silence, but then she spoke up again with melancholy in her tone. "And our wedding... it was.. the best thing that could ever happen to me."

Peepers' heart wrenched as she recounted their story together in the other universe - the villain, the Yonder Galaxy, and the love that blossomed despite it all. Each memory was a bittersweet reminder of what they used to have, and what he still longed for with a passion that burned deep within him. When she mentioned their wedding, his arms tightened around her involuntarily, the memory of it still vivid in his mind.

"It was the best day of my whole life." He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I... I love you, ___. More than anything in any universe."

The physical contact was like a spark of electricity, igniting the connection between them. His touch was both familiar and new at the same time, like a long-forgotten memory resurfacing in the depths of his mind. He could feel the heat radiating from her skin, and he longed to hold her closer, to press her body against his and never let go.

He didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse to remember everything so clearly. In this universe, they were destined to be apart, to experience love in vastly different ways. But in that universe, they had found their forever, their happily ever after. "And yet, I don't get why we remember all of it." He was almost mad. "It's like the universe is... punishing us for something."

She leaned into his touch, his warmth and the sound of his voice grounding her in the present moment. She knew exactly what he meant by his last statement. The universe did seem to have a cruel sense of humor, teasing them with the memories of what could've been while keeping them apart in this lifetime. So she let out a deep sigh, her breath trembling as she spoke. "I've wondered that myself." She admitted, her voice laced with resignation. "Maybe it's because our love in that universe was so powerful, so real, that it transcended the boundaries of the multiverse." Then, her eyes closed for a moment. "Or maybe it's a reminder that even if we're not together here, our love still exists somewhere else. Where we are happy and in love, and nothing can change that."

The Commander felt a lump from in his throat at her words. It was bittersweet, knowing that in another universe they had found their happiness, while in this one they were torn apart. "It just doesn't seem fair." He muttered, visibly frustrated. "Why can't we have that happiness here? Why did the universe have to write our paths like this?" He clenched his fists, still holding onto her back. "And you're with Wander, of all people. It's just... I can't..."

Hearing that, she tightened their embrace. "Commander, I understand your frustration and anger." She said, her tone steady. "But you have to remember that every universe has its own course to follow. In this one, our paths are different, our stories are different. But that doesn't mean that there isn't still love and happiness to be found." She squeezed her eyes tighter shut. "And you will find love again. Someone who loves you as fiercely and as deeply as I do in this universe. I believe that."

Peepers let out a shuddering breath, her words both reassuring and painful at the same time. "But it won't be the same." He said, unable to keep the melancholy out of his voice. "It won't be you. And you're the only one for me, ___." He wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her even closer, as if trying to hold onto this moment, onto her, for just a little while longer.

"I know." She said softly. "You deserve your happy ending, even if I'm not part of it in this universe. The thought of you being alone, unhappy, it's... unbearable." Then she looked to the side, feeling guilty. "If I knew from the start that we were... together, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be with Wander." Her gaze turned to the back of the room in sadness. "But, the memories, they were all a blur. I didn't remember everything until today, when I grabbed your hand and..."

He felt a pang of sorrow at her words. He didn't want her to question her current relationship, to feel conflicted because of her memories. "No, no." He said quickly, shaking his head. "Don't think that way. Please, don't." He gently traced his hand over her hair, the touch affectionate yet reluctant. "You should be with who makes you happy here." He said, his tone firm. "Even if it hurts me to see you with... him."

The guilt in her eyes intensified as he spoke, and she pulled back to look at him fully. "He does make me happy." She admitted, her voice soft wand filled with a hint of uncertainty. "But it... it's different. With you, it was deeper, more profound. It was like a part of me I didn't know existed came alive. And I... I can't shake the feeling that I'm somehow... betraying you by being with him."

Peepers felt his heart aching at her confession, the raw emotion in her words tugging at every fiber of his being. He wanted to scream, to tell her to forget about Wander, to choose him instead. But he knew it wasn't that simple. He knew that love, even across universes, was complex and unpredictable. "You're not betraying me." He said, thick with emotion. "You're just... living your life, like you're supposed to. And if being with him makes you happy, even just a little, then I... I'll learn to accept it." Then, in spite of his understanding, a tear appeared at the corner of his eye. 

"And maybe, someday, I'll get to wake up and find myself in your embrace again."

Her own orbs welled up with tears at his declaration, the pain and longing in it clear as day. She ached to make him see that if she had known everything from the start, perhaps things would be different. She shook her hear, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Commander... if I knew, if I realized who you really were to me, I wouldn't hesitate to be with you." Her eyes darted over his features, the sorrow in hers evident. "You have no idea how many times I wondered where you were, why I felt this strange... pull towards you."

The man felt a flicker of hope in his heart, but he fought to keep it in check. He didn't want to delude himself, didn't want to put too much stock in the what-ifs and almosts. "But you didn't know." He said softly, his voice heavy. "And there's no point in dwelling on what could've been. You're with him and I..." He trailed off, the words catching in his throat. 

"Commander." She said, pleading, reaching up to gently turn his face towards her, forcing him to look into her orbs. "Just because I'm with Wander right now, it doesn't mean I don't... fell things for you. It doesn't mean my heart doesn't ache when I see you. The memories, they.. they've made me question everything. I feel like I'm being pulled in two direction, and it's driving me insane.."

Peepers met her gaze, filled with a mixture of pain and vulnerability. It was the most raw, honest expression he had ever shown. "I feel the same way." He admitted. "The memories... they've made everything so complicated. It's like I'm being tugged two directions, and every fiber of my being wants to be with you, in any universe. But I... I can't ask you to choose me, now when you have a life with Wander."

She could feel her heart breaking as she heard the anguish in his tone, knowing that he was struggling with the same conflicting feelings that were tearing her apart. 

"You don't have to ask." She said softly. "My heart is... it's divided, torn between the man who makes me smile every day and the one who steals my breath away with just a look. And I don't know what to do. I just... I want things to be simpler, easier, the way they were when we..." She trailed off, the pain etching deeper into her features. 

He felt a lump forming in his throat once again as her words hit home. He knew that she was torn, caught between her feelings for both him and Wander. And he couldn't blame her. He was in the same boat. "I wish things were simpler too." He said. "I wish we could go back to that universe where everything made sense. But... we can't." He gently cupped her face in his hands, searching her eyes. "And I can't ask you to give up what you have with him. I can't."

The image of her husband, so understanding and selfless filled her mind.

And so she took a deep breath, the tears streaming down her face as she looked into Peepers' scarlet eye. "Wander gave us his blessing." She said softly. "He... he knew." Her voice broke, the pain etched into every syllable. "He gave me the key to this room. He... he wanted us to... to do everything we felt we needed to." She trembled slightly. "He understood how we feel, how we need each other. And he wanted to give us this one moment."

Peepers felt his heart skip a beat, unable to believe what he was hearing. Wander, of all people, had not only understood but encouraged their connection. It was the last thing he had expected to hear, and it only made his feelings even more tangled.

Wander was... okay with this.

He stared at her, his orb filled with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. "He... he did?" He asked, his voice shaky.

She nodded, her tears continuing to fall, her body shaking. "He did." She said, her voice filled with anguish. "He wanted us to have this. This... one night to... to feel like we used to." She looked at him, her eyes searching his. "And I... I want that too. I need that. More than anything." With a shaky breath, she leaned forward until their foreheads touched, her tone a soft whisper. "If this is truly the last time we can... be this way, don't hold back."

Don't hold back.

The sentence that he heard her say so many times. 

"Are... are you sure?" He whispered back. "I don't want to do anything you'll regret, anything you'll feel guilty for later." 

Her heart ached as she heard his question filled with worry and restraint. But her decision was made, because in the end, they would never have a chance to have each other like this again in this universe. "I won't regret it. I... need to feel this once more." She replied, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Please... just for a moment..."

"Let me remember what it's like to be yours again."

Her words, filled with such raw need and desire, sent a shiver down Peepers' spine. He couldn't deny her plea, couldn't resist the magnetic pull he felt towards her. Leaning slightly forward, he reached out and, with a swift but gentle motion, he grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, flipping her onto the bed beneath him.

He hovered over her, his body pressed against hers, the heat between them palpable.

A mixture of love, heartache, and bittersweet memories coursed through Peepers' veins. He was suddenly hyper-aware of her - her scent, her touch, the way she looked in her wedding dress. It was a perfect union of beauty, power, and vulnerability that seemed to echo the memory of their own wedding, of the moment they had given themselves to each other in a completely different reality.

"You've... you've never looked more beautiful." He breathed, his fingers gently tracing the delicate lace of her dress. As the words left his mouth, the pang in his heart felt heavier than before. This moment, for all its beauty, was steeped in the knowledge that this was the last time they would ever be this close again. He wanted to memorize every detail - the curve of her jawline, the way her eyelashes fluttered when she looked up at him.

"You'll always be the most beautiful woman in every universe in my eye." He murmured, his voice cracking slightly. His touch on her waist tightened, pulling her even closer as he leaned down to press a soft, aching kiss against her forehead.

She could feel the weight of his words and the unspoken emotions behind them. Her heart ached as well, a mixture of gratitude and grief. This was their final moment, a stolen moment of tenderness that they would never have again. "And you've always been and will be the man who captured my heart in every lifetime." She whispered back, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and resignation. Her fingers reached up to trace the soft lines of his orb, gently caressing his cheek as if she were mapping out his features.

Her touch, light as it was, sent shivers down his spine once more. He closed his eye, leaning into her touch and savoring the feel of her fingers on his skin. The pain of their impending loss only made the moment more poignant, each sensation, each touch, each breath between them a bittersweet reminder. "And I always will." He replied, his voice low and a little shaky. 

“In every universe, in every lifetime, I'll be yours. Always." His hand moved to her hair, threading his fingers through it as he looked down at her, his heart full of aching love.

Her eyes began to water with tears, his words and the way he looked at her breaking down her emotional walls. Each touch, each whisper, was a bittersweet reminder of the love they could never fully possess.

"And I will always be yours." She echoed back the words, the tears now rolling down her cheeks. She leaned into him, her hands coming to rest on his chest. The feel of his heart beating beneath her palm filled her with a strange sort of yearning, and she clung to him as if fearing that he might disappear.

His heart was beating a mile a minute as he looked down at her, the weight of their impending separation hanging in the air between them. He could hardly wrap his mind around the fact that this would be the last time they would ever be together like this, the last time he would ever touch her, hold her. His fingers moved to her face, gently tracing the line of her jaw as he leaned in to claim a lingering kiss. 

As their lips met, it was as if the whole universe faded away. There was only the sensation of her mouth against his, the heat of her body pressed close to him. He drank in the taste of her, the feel of her. He wanted to memorize every little thing, from the way she trembled under his touch to the soft sound of her breath catching in her throat. His other hand moved to her hip, pulling her closer, wanting nothing more than to lose himself in her completely.

It was both ecstasy and agony, a reminder of what could have been, what should have been.

He closed his eye, his lips moving against hers in a dance that was as familiar and exhilarating as it was mournful. He could feel her heart racing in her chest, mirroring his own frantic beat, and the knowledge that this moment, for all its beauty, was a stolen one only made it more intense. With one hand on her hip and the other caressing the side of her face, he poured all of his love, his desire, his pain into the kiss, trying to make it last forever when he knew it couldn't. He felt the wetness of tears on her cheeks, mixing with the saltiness of their kiss, and it made his heart ache even more. This was his final chance to hold her, to touch her, to remember the feeling of her body against his, and it wasn't fair. He needed more time, he needed a lifetime, but all he had was this single stolen moment, a brief encounter that was already slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. 

Every touch, every breath, every beat of their hearts felt like a dagger to the chest.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to pull away. He was greedy, selfish, in that moment. He needed her more than air, more than life itself. His lips moved hungrily against hers. He memorized the taste of her, the feel of her, the sound of her voice as she gasped against him. He wanted to burn this into his memory, a brand that would scar his soul forever.

His hands roamed over her body, desperate to touch every inch of her, to hold onto the very essence of her being. It was a frenzy, like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. He knew deep down he should stop, that he was only prolonging the inevitable pain, but he couldn't. He was too far gone, too wrapped up in the whirlwind of feelings that threatened to consume him whole.

The world faded away around them, time losing all meaning as they poured every ounce of longing and desire into this kiss. They held onto each other as if they were the only people in existence, the only ones who truly understood the depth of their connection.

And in the midst of it all, every memory, every kiss, every intimate moment, it flowed through their minds. Because of it, without thinking, they grasped at their clothing, desperate for more, for an even deeper interrelation than they could have.

He gasped against her mouth as their clothes began to come off, both of them moving frantically, each wanting to feel as close as possible to the other. He'd never felt this way before, this aching need to touch and be touched. His fingers trembled as he fumbled with the fastenings on her dress, desperate to remove every barrier between them.

Every sound, every touch, was heightened in this heightened state. He could hear their heartbeats pounding in their ears like a drum, feel the heat of their skin in the cool air of the room. The sensation of her hands on his body was electric, setting off sparks of pleasure that ran down his spine. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips finding her pulse point and he started to press kisses against the sensitive skin.

He knew her body like a map, every dip and curve memorized down to the smallest detail. From the sensitive spot behind her ear, to the tender skin of her collarbone. He knew the places that made her shiver, the secret, vulnerable places that only he had ever touched. He remembered every one of those places, each spot he had discovered by touch and the sounds she made when he found a particularly sensitive one. He touched her with a sense of reverence, like a man worshiping at an altar.

The memories of their previous universe mingled with this moment, and he repeated the caresses and touches that had always left her breathless. His hands roved over her body, touching and teasing, his lips finding the places that made her arch against him, whimpering his name.

He relished the way her body responded to his touch, moving under his fingertips like a living, breathing thing. He had her pinned against the bed, at his mercy, and for that delicious, stolen moment, she was his and his alone. He continued to shower her with attention, his hands tracing the curves of her body, his mouth trailing hot kisses down her chest.

Every gasp, every whimper, was like music to his ears, feeding his desire and his need to make this moment last forever. He had spent countless nights mapping her body, committing it to memory, and now he was using that knowledge to drive her to the edge of ecstasy. He wanted to lose himself in her, to take her with him to that place where nothing else mattered but the two of them. But most of all, he wanted to remember this. He wanted this image of her, flushed and begging for his touch, burned into his mind for all eternity.

And then, just when it seemed like the intensity couldn't possibly get any stronger, Peepers pulled back, just enough to gaze into her eyes. Despite the passion and lust that still burned in his stare, there was something else there too. Something more tender, more vulnerable. 

"I love you." He whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I never stopped and never will."

___'s heart clenched at his words, the raw honesty in his tone stirring up a maelstrom of emotions within her. She reached up, cupping his face again, her fingers tracing his features. "I love you too." She whispered back, the declaration catching in her throat. "No matter what happens, please... never forget that."

He leaned into her touch, closing his orb and savoring the feel of her skin against his. He wanted to lock this moment away in his memory, tuck it into the back of his mind and keep it there forever. "Never." He promised, opening his eye once more to look at her. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of love, desire, and a hint of sorrow. "I could never forget you. Ever."

His heart thundered in his chest as he looked down at her, their naked bodies pressed close together. There was a sense of finality to this moment, a knowledge that it would be the last time they would ever be like this. He felt a rush of possessiveness, a primal need to claim her and make her his, even if it was just for a moment. So he gripped her hips possessively, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled her impossibly closer to him. The height difference between them had always been a source of amusement to them, but now it felt like a source of both comfort and challenge. He could feel her body fitting against his like a puzzle piece, the heat of her skin seeping into his own.

He shifted, positioning himself between her spread legs, his body almost trembling with anticipation and need. The air was charged with an electrical current as he looked down at her, his gaze locked with hers. The look in his eye was primal and possessive, the look of a man who had finally found what he had been searching for his whole life.

He leaned down, as he carefully began to enter her. He moved slowly, each and every inch he pushed into her filling him with a sensation of completion that he had never known before. He felt like he was finally where he was supposed to be, and he never wanted to leave.

The woman gasped as he entered her, her body responding to his touch as if it had been yearning for it all along. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close as a rush of emotions flooded through her entire being.

There was love, a fierce and undeniable love that had been there from the start, and still remained even after everything they had been through. There was lust, an intense and overpowering need that left her shaking and breathless. And there was an overwhelming sense of rightness.

A feeling that this was exactly where they should be.

The night seemed to stretch on forever as they lost themselves in each other. They explored every inch of each other, relearning old favorite spots, finding new ones to memorize. They moved together like a well-oiled machine, a dance they had perfected over centuries, and yet every touch still felt new. Time lost all meaning as they gave themselves over to their desires, to the sheer overwhelming sensation of being together.

There were moments where they were frantic, desperate to devour each other, to memorize every sound they could pull from the other's lips. And then there were moments of quiet tenderness, where they would simply hold each other, exchanging whispered words of love and longing. They explored every corner of pleasure, both old and new, each moment more intense and special than the last. Hours ticked by, marked only by the slow shifting of the shadows in the room, and still they couldn't get enough of each other.

They were a tangle of limbs, a desperate, frenzied mess, lost in the heat and the intensity of the moment. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own private universe.

There was a bittersweet irony to the whole thing. They had been given this one night together, this single moment of bliss, and they were determined to make the most of it. They were greedy, consuming each other body and soul, as if trying to create a lifetime's worth of memories in a single night. But even as they relished the heat and the passion between them, there was an undercurrent of sadness. They both knew that this was not supposed to be. This was not how their story was supposed to end. They were supposed to have a lifetime together, centuries of happiness and love, not just this one stolen night.

And yet, in this moment, all of that seemed to fade away. The pain and the grief were pushed to the back of their minds, replaced by the sheer, overwhelming sensation of being together. This was their moment, their small slice of heaven, and they were going to cling to it for as long as they could.

And so, as the night bled into early morning, they pulled apart, their bodies still shuddering from the intensity of what they had just experienced. 

For a second, they simply stared at each other, neither willing to break the silence.

Peepers rested his forehead against hers, his eye closed as if in prayer. He was keenly aware of the fact that this was it. This was the moment they had to part, to return to this universe and their respective lives. He wanted to say something, to find some way to express the depth of his feelings again, but no words came. What could he even say? That he loved her more than anything in the multiverse?

She already knew that.

The woman leaned against him and took a shuddering breath, struggling to find the words to express the tangle of emotions within her. "We... we have to part, don't we?" She asked softly, her voice betraying how reluctant she was to let go. She didn't want to say goodbye, even though she knew it was inevitable.

The watchdog nodded, his eye closed. "Yes... we do." He didn't elaborate, didn't say anything else. They both knew what that simple statement meant. 

That this was the end, the final goodbye.

The silence stretched out between them, heavy and charged with unspoken emotions. Neither of them wanted to be the first to pull away, to initiate the final separation.

But then, she decided to do it, her hands slowly slipping from his body. The loss of contact stung like a physical pain, but she forced herself to stand up, to create a gap between them. Their eyes met, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, silently pleading for something, anything to change. 

For this moment not to end. 

But deep down, they both knew it was hopeless. There was nothing either of them could do to change the circumstances. And so, Peepers sighed, steeling himself for what was to come. "This is it, then." His voice was hoarse, betraying his emotions. He stood up himself and took a step back, his scarlet orb still fixed on her, trying to memorize every last detail, to sear her image into his mind forever.

"Yeah..." She whispered, her voice choked with tears as they began to dress. "This is it." She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. But her heart was breaking, her insides feeling as if they'd been ripped into pieces. She wanted to say so many things, to apologize, to express how much he meant to her, how much she'd miss him. But the words caught in her throat, stuck like barbed wire.

There was nothing left to say. They both knew that. This was as far as they could go. This was the end of the road.

The watchdog closed his eye, trying to compose himself. He didn't want to her to see him cry, didn't want to show her just how much this was tearing him apart. But when he opened his orb again, a lone tear managed to escape, trickling down. ___ saw it of course, and it was all she could do not to sob herself. She wanted to reach out, to wipe it away, to comfort him. But she knew that would only make this harder. So she swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to keep her own emotions at bay. "Commander..." She murmured, unable to find the any words.

He shook his head, his expression pained. "Don't." He whispered. "Please.. don't make this even harder than it already is."

She nodded, understanding his plea. It was almost a relief, in a way. To know that he didn't want her to make this even more difficult. It made walking away a little easier, a little less torturous. But only a little. So they stood there for another beat, neither of them moving, neither of them speaking. It was like time had frozen around them, trapping them in this one moment, this one impossible goodbye. 

And then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, they began to move. They took one step back, and then another, putting more and more distance between themselves. It was an unnatural pace, like walking through a dream. Their eyes stayed locked on each other, the connection between them the only thing holding them together. Even as they moved farther apart, they still couldn't tear their gazes away. The distance continued to grow, the physical gap between them a painful metaphor for what was happening. They were being torn apart, forced to leave behind a part of themselves with each step. But despite the ache in her chest, ___ forced herself to keep moving. She forced herself to put one foot in behind the other, even as every fiber of her being screamed at her to stay, to run back and never let go.

Their steps continued, slow and measured, each one bringing them closer to the end. Despite the pain, she found herself silently thanking the gods for whatever strange power was keeping them moving, for forcing them to walk away when every fiber of their beings wanted to run back to each other.

And then, all too soon, they were at the end. They stood several feet apart, an invisible but insurmountable barrier separating them as their backs hit the walls on both opposites of the hotel room they found themselves in.

This was goodbye.

But neither of them could find the words to say it, couldn't force the syllables from their throats. They simply stared at each other, their hearts in their throats, hoping and praying that the other would say something, anything, to break this excruciating silence.

And then, a spark of hope flared within the human woman.

No, it wasn't the end. It couldn't have been.

Suddenly, she smiled, her eyes filled with warmth. "We'll see each other again. This... isn't goodbye." Then, her orbs shimmered with that familiar mischief. "I'll make sure to find you again and then I'll make your life a living hell, just like before." Despite everything, she chuckled, the memories of her teasing entering her mind. 

For a moment, he couldn't help but smile back at her, the corner of his eyelid tugging up in spite of everything. Of course. Of course she wouldn't give up that easily.

This was ___, after all.

"You're stubborn, you know that?" He said softly while crossing his arms over his chest.

And she smirked, that familiar, defiant, irritating little smirk that he had come to know and love. "And you love me for it." 

A small huff escaped him, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. He couldn't deny it. This annoying, stubborn, beautiful, wonderful woman had stolen his heart, and he didn't even mind. Not one bit. "Yeah." He admitted, his eye crinkling slightly at the corners. "I do."

"And I love your for being a big softie." She retorted, her tone only a little hoarse. 

He made a derisive sound, but there was no heat behind it. "I'm not a softie."

She smiled slyly again. "Yeah, you are. You're a big old marshmallow on the inside. Don't deny it." With that she crossed her own arms, standing more on her side. "Remember how we talked about the watchdogs suggesting you wear a tutu for the planet invasion?" She placed her hand near her heart and closed her eyes proudly. "I, for one, still think you would look cute."

Peepers made a strangled sound, his cheeks darkening. "Absolutely not! I'm not wearing a tutu!"

She laughed, a sound like chimes in the wind. "Oh, come on. You know you secretly want to twirl. Maybe throw in a few pirouettes. You'd make a lovely ballerina, I just know it."

At that he pretended to sulk. "I would not! I'm a planet invader, not a ballerina!"

Her only response was to chuckle, thoroughly amused by his feigned indignation. "Don't lie. You'd totally make a great ballerina. I could just picture it: the graceful twirls, the delicate leaps, the en-pointe." She gestured to his petite frame for emphasis. "You already have the physique for it."

He sputtered, the blush on his face deepening. She was right, damn it. He absolutely would make a good ballerina, but he wasn't going to admit it. "I... I would not!" He repeated, but it was weak this time, his attempt to deny it sounding more petulant than anything else.

She rolled her eyes, seeing right through his weak protest. "Come on, admit it. You'd be a natural at ballet. You're petite, you're graceful." Before he could say or do anything, she moved her finger in the air as if to shush him. "Don't roll your eye at me, you know it's true." She let out a small laugh. "And you've got a certain... 'delicate charm' about you."

Peepers huffed, his cheeks burning. Okay, she had a point. He was graceful, he supposed. And he had a knack for dancing, even if his usual repertoire was more martial arts based. And he could be... well, delicate if the situation called for it. But still. He was a planet invader. A conqueror. A menace. And he absolutely refused to wear a tutu.

"Commander." She teased, enjoying how flustered he was getting. "Just imagine it. You in a tutu, leaping through the air, all light and graceful. You could even do a solo if you wanted. Imagine that! You, center stage, all eyes on you. Wouldn't that be something?~"

"It would be humiliating!" Peepers protested vehemently, his entire face going a bright shade of red. The thought of him, doing a solo, on a ballet stage with an audience watching and everything... It was simultaneously the best and worst thing to imagine.

She laughed, thoroughly enjoying this teasing. "It would be far from humiliating. It would be... graceful. And elegant. And dare I say, a little bit... sexy." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Peepers' blushed even darker, spluttering again.

"SEXY?!" He protested incredulously, his heart pounding. The thought of her calling him sexy, in any context, was enough to send a jolt through his body. He struggled to keep himself together, trying to maintain his dignity. "T-That's ridiculous! What's sexy about a grown man wearing a tutu and dancing on a stage?!"

She smirked again, seeing how flustered he had gotten. She had him completely flustered, and it was incredibly satisfying. "Come on, you know I'm right. You'd be incredibly sexy. All that grace, all that strength, all those years of training put to... good use. Can you imagine that? All the people watching, all eyes glued to you, all thinking the same thing..." She lowered her voice. "Damn, that's one sexy little guy."

Peepers' breath hitched in his throat, the sound low and strangled. He was practically burning up now, his face and chest flushed a bright red. She was doing this on purpose. She was trying to tease him. And damn it all, it was working. This was seriously the same woman that infuriated him to no end, but gods help him, how much he had missed her wit.

"Just imagine it." She continued, her voice a sultry whisper. "The way you'd move, the way you'd spin, the way you'd kick your leg up high in those fancy shoes..." She took a step closer to him, her gaze intense and heated. "And me, sitting in the audience, watching you, entranced, enraptured... wanting nothing more than to take you off the stage and-"

Peepers made a strangled noise, his mind spinning with images of her whispering naughty things in his ear... Damn it, why did she have to make him think such things? His imagination was running wild now. It was taking all his self-control not to grab her and kiss her senseless, to take her back with him and do everything that they just did once again.

But they couldn't. 

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He needed to keep himself together, to stay focused. "Stop... stop it..." He managed to gasp out. "You know we have to..." He knew they needed to part. Both of them knew. They already used all their time in the universe, and yet... she didn't want to let go, just like him.

She was silent for a moment, her expression softening as she saw the struggle on his face. She knew he was right. They both knew that this was it. There was no more time to waste. But at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to let go. Not yet. Just a moment longer, a few more seconds with him, that was all she wanted. So she took one more step closer to him, close enough to reach out and touch him, but still not quite closing the gap between them. "I know." She murmured. "But I don't want to. And you know how stubborn I am Commander."

He took a shaky breath, his heart clenching in his chest. He knew. Oh, how well he knew just how stubborn she was. She could be more stubborn than a damn boulder sometimes, refusing to give an inch even when it was the smart thing to do. And it was one of the things he loved most about her. But right now, it was also driving him insane. He had already steeled himself up to let her go, to accept their separation. But with her standing there, so close yet so damn far away, those walls were crumbling fast.

She saw the conflict in his eye, the struggle between the sensible side of his brain and the part of him that just wanted to grab her and never let go. She knew exactly what was going through his mind, because it was the same thing going through her own.

With that in her mind, she took another step closer, almost closing the gap between them completely. She was so close now that he could feel the heat radiating off her body, the scent of her perfume filling his senses. And gods, it was torture not to touch her, not to pull her into his arms and hold her tightly against his chest again.

"But as I said, Commander." She suddenly pat his helmet, a sweet gesture that lingered for far longer than it should. "This isn't goodbye, and you know it." Then she stood back a bit, gesturing with her hands as if she was holding a gun and doing a 'pew-pew' sound. "If I have to fight the universe so be it!" She chuckled. "I'm a great villain after all." 

Ah, that smugness of hers.

Peepers was barely holding it together now, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he was surprised she couldn't hear it. The scent of her perfume, the heat radiating from her body, the softness of her voice... it was all so much, too much, and yet not enough. But when she stepped back and gestured with a playful that playful sound, something within him snapped. "You insufferable woman." He hissed, his voice strained. He reached out and seized her wrist, yanking her against him and pulling her into his embrace.

She let out a sharp gasp as she was suddenly pulled against him, her heart fluttering in her chest. His grip was firm on her wrist, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he forced her to crouch down once again. There was no gentle tenderness in his touch, only raw need and desperation. It sent a shiver down her spine. "Insufferable, huh?" She managed to say, her voice a little breathless. "Is that any way to speak to your favorite villain, or should I say, second-in-command?" 

The memory, of her being his right-hand as they took over the universe filled his mind.

"Insufferable, annoying, irritating." He grumbled, his grip on her tightening as he held her against him. "Damn it, I don't want to let you go." He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her perfume, the smell of her shampoo. It was intoxicating, like a drug that he craved with every fiber of his being. "You drive me insane, you know that?"

She wrapped her free arm around his neck, burying her fingers on his helmet. She reveled in the feeling of being in his arms again, the solid warmth of his body against hers. She had missed this, missed him, more than she could have ever imagined. "Me? Drive you insane? Who's the one who practically gave himself a heart attack every time I jumped headfirst into trouble? You were always the one to worry."

At that he squeezed her even tighter. "And with good reason! Do you have any idea how many years you've taken off my lifespan with your recklessness?" He leaned his head down to bury his face in the crook of her neck, his voice muffled as he spoke. "You have absolutely no sense of self-preservation, dear wife." The title he used so many times left his lips before he could even think, the memory of their wedding still lingering.

She laughed softly, the sound reverberating through her body and into his. "Well if I recall, you didn't seem to have any complaints on honeymoon." She ran her fingers slowly down the back of his helmet, taking in the feel and texture of the metal. "And I never claimed to have any sense of self-preservation, dear husband." She echoed back. "It's part of my charm."

He snorted in response, the sound half a laugh and half a sigh. "Your 'charm,' as you call it, is a constant source of stress for me." He pulled his face back from its hiding spot in her neck so he could look at her, his eye glittering. "And you know full well that I have quite a lot of complaints about that honeymoon."

She couldn't help but smirk at that, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, really now?" she drawled, feigning innocence. "And what exactly are these 'complaints' of yours? Because I seem to remember a certain someone being quite satisfied during that honeymoon."

He huffed in response, a hint of irritation in his voice. "Oh, don't pretend you don't know!" He almost scolded her, something he had to do lots of times. "You were a goddamn menace during it. You kept insisting on going to all these dangerous places, doing all sorts of foolish things that almost got us killed multiple times, and then you had the audacity to act like you were bored and wanted to go home early!" He gave her a withering glare. "You're lucky I was too busy being madly in love with you to strangle the life out of you."

Her smirk widened and her orbs sparkled with humor.

"Oh, so you mean I added a little excitement to our vacation!" She said cheerfully. "What else did you expect? A normal, boring honeymoon where we just sit on the beach and sip fruity drinks all day?" She chuckled. "Come on, Commander, you know me better than that. I just couldn't resist exploring some danger and having a little adventure." She reached up and playfully tapped his helmet. "And you loved it anyway."

He huffed again, but her words made his heart skip a beat. Damn her, she was right. He would never admit it out loud, but he had actually enjoyed their honeymoon, even with all her antics and the near-death experiences. "Loved it? More like I feared for my life every single second." He retorted, a hint of sarcasm in his voice as his eyelid moved down. 

She just laughed, completely unrepentant. "Oh, Commander, where's your sense of adventure?" The woman teased. "Don't tell me all those years of taking over planets and conquering galaxies has made you boring." She then gave a sultry smile. "Besides, I didn't hear you complaining when we were... ahem... enjoying the benefits of honeymoon."

Peepers felt his face heat up at her words, his mind immediately flashing back to their activities during the honeymoon. Gods, the things they did... and the sounds she made... He shook his head to clear his thoughts, looking at her with an irritated glare. "That's a low blow." He grumbled again. "You know damn well I can't argue with that."

___ chuckled, amused by how she still could get him flustered with just a few words. It was a power she knew full well how to wield, and she wasn't afraid to use it to her advantage. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a sultry murmur. "So, you admit I was right? You did enjoy our honeymoon, no matter how 'stressful' it was."

He sighed, knowing he had been caught. "I... didn't say that." He protested weakly, but the flush in his cheeks betrayed him. Damn it, she knew him too well. He averted his gaze, but his arm around her stayed firm, still keeping her body close to him. "I... I enjoyed parts of it." He admitted grudgingly. "The parts where you weren't trying to get us both killed, that is."

She saw right through his denials, her eyes glittering with amusement. "Parts, huh?" she drawled, her voice low and sultry. "I'm pretty sure I remember some very enjoyable parts. Parts that you couldn't get enough of.... parts that made you lose your mind completely." She leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Parts that made you forget your own name... multiple times."

He groaned in response, feeling his face heat up even further at her words. Gods, she was right and he hated it. She knew damn well how easily he came apart in her hands, how she could make him lose all control with just a few words. He gritted his teeth, his grip on her tightening. "You.... you insufferable, smug, teasing woman." He muttered, his voice strained.

The human laughed again, her voice dripping with satisfaction at the effect she was having on him. "You say those things like they're insults." She purred, running her fingers slowly up the back of his helmet again. "But I think you secretly love it. You love how I get under your skin, how I drive you insane. You love having me in your arms, just like you are now." She leaned in even closer, their faces only inches apart, and whispered. "Admit it, dear husband."

His eyelid furrowed, his heart racing in his chest as her fingers traced their way up his helmet. Damn her, she was impossible to resist, her voice and her taunts unraveling his stoic exterior. Damn her, and damn how much he longed to hear that word on her lips, spoken in that sultry tone that made his blood run hot. He looked at her, his eye dark with desire and irritation. "You're a demon." He hissed. "And you know full damn well that I can't resist you, love."

She gave him a smug smile, clearly delighted by his response. "Oh, I know." She purred, her eyes glittering with satisfaction once more. "And I love every second of it. Knowing that you can't resist me, that you're completely under my spell... it's the biggest power trip I've ever experienced." She leaned in even closer, their faces mere inches apart. "You can't hide it, husband. You think you're the Commander, but in reality, you're just my plaything. And you love it." The way she wanted to use him back in that universe, how she fell for him in the process and couldn't let go, it all came back to their mind.

He gritted his teeth again, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body tense with desire. She was right, damn her, she knew damn well how much her words got to him, how much power she had over him. "You're a tease." He growled, his voice strained. "A damn seductress. You know just how to drive me wild, and you revel in it."  He pulled her fully against him, one arm wrapped tight around her waist, the other hand burying itself in her hair. "And damn me to hell, but I love it."

But... it wasn't meant to be. Not here at least.

With that in mind, his grip loosened and he let out a sigh. "And I'll always love it." Slowly, he pulled away, taking a step back and creating distance once again. "___, I- I know what you're trying to do..." His eye darted over her features. "You're scared. Scared to let go, to be alone, but we both know that..." His fists shook at his sides. "That I'm not the one to make you feel whole in this Galaxy. Wander is." With a deep breath he looked up at her. "You two just got married and we..." His cheeks reddened as the images of him and her being intimate one last time that night filled his mind.

She could feel the tension in his body, the way he held her tight against him like he couldn't bear to let her go. She wanted to revel in the moment, to bask in the knowledge that he was just as wrapped around her finger as she was around his. But then he suddenly pulled away, his words sending a pang through her chest. She watched as he spoke, his eye scanning over her features as he voiced the inevitable truth. His words hit her like a sledgehammer, the harsh reality crashing down on her. "I know." She muttered, her voice quiet, her gaze falling to the ground.

He took a deep breath again, trying to steady himself. This was so much harder than he had thought it would be. Gods, he loved her, he loved her so damn much it hurt, but he knew he had no right to hold her. He reached out, gently taking her hand. "Honey," He began, his voice soft. "Look at me."

She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his, her orbs filled with a mixture of pain and resignation. Every fiber of her being longed to reach out and pull him back in, but she stood frozen where she was, her heart breaking with each passing moment.

The watchdog squeezed her hand, his eye full of a mixture of sadness and understanding. "You love him." He murmured, his voice gentle but firm. "You always have. And he loves you, more than life itself. He'll do anything for you. You know that." With his free hand, he gently tilted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. "And I-" He cut himself off, the words stuck in his throat. He swallowed, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. "I love you too, but in this universe, it's not meant to be."

Her breath hitched in her chest, the reality of his words hitting her like a punch to the gut. He was right, of course he was. She did love Wander. She always had, and she knew she always would, in this universe, in this lifetime. "I know." She whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's not meant to be, but... But it hurts. It hurts so damn much to let you go."

He nodded, his heart clenching painfully at the anguish in her voice. He knew exactly how she felt. Letting her go was like tearing out a piece of his soul, but he knew he had to. He took a step closer, his hand moving to cup her face. "I know it hurts." He said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "Believe me, I know. But you have to remember that I'm not the one to make you whole here. He is." And then, he managed to smile. "And just like you said, this isn't goodbye. I promise you that I'll wait for that day, the day I'll be able to call you mine again."

Her eyes widened at his words, a spark of hope flickering to life inside her chest. He was right, they would meet again. It might not be today, or tomorrow, or even a hundred years from now, but they would be together again. She lifted her free hand to cover his, her fingers intertwining with his. "You promise?" She asked softly, her voice filled with longing.

He nodded firmly, his grip on her hand tightening. "I promise." He said firmly. "No matter how long it takes, no matter what I have to do, I will find you again. And when I do, I'll make sure you remember me." He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb, his touch tender and loving. "You can't get rid of me that easily, honey."

She smiled, a single tear tracing its way down her cheek. She believed him, she knew he would keep his promise. The thought brought her an unexpected sense of comfort. "And you're damn right I won't." She muttered, her tone holding a hint of her usual sass. "You're stuck with me now, Commander."

A small, amused huff escaped him. Now that was his ___. He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. "Lucky me." He murmured, his eye closed. "The most stubborn, infuriating, seductive woman in the universe. Just what I always wanted."

And it was the whole truth. 

"Damn right, you're lucky." She drawled, her voice holding just a hint of its usual cocky arrogance. "You better cherish and worship every second you get to be saddled with me, mister."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. Gods, what did he do to deserve to be saddled with her in the first place? "Oh trust me, I will." He replied. "I'll worship you, every inch of your beautiful, infuriating body. I'll be the luckiest commander in the universe to have you back in my arms."

Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink at his words, warmth spreading through her chest. Gods, why did he have to be so damn charismatic? Why did he have to be so good at making her heart flutter like this? "Just remember, Commander." She said, her voice quieter now, a touch of vulnerability slipping into her tone. "I'm a handful. I'm a nightmare. You might regret this one day, you know."

He smiled, a warm, genuine smile that softened his usually stoic features. "I know." It was a gentle reminder. "And I don't care. You can be as irritating and infuriating as you want, my dear second-in-command. It won't change a thing." He lifted their joined hands and pressed a tender kiss against her knuckles. "I'll take all the attitude, the mood swings, even your damn snark just to have you in my arms again."

A shiver of desire flickered through her at his words and his touch. Gods, she could feel herself weakening, her resolve starting to crumble under the weight of his love and determination.

"Hmph." She muttered, feigning nonchalance but failing miserably. "You might regret saying that. I'm a menace, you know. I'll drive you crazy every second, I'll make you question why you ever fell for me in the first place, again."

"Believe me, I know how much of a menace you are," he said, his smile growing wider. He pulled her closer to him, his hands gripping her hips firmly. "And guess what, honey? I can't wait for it. I can't wait to be driven insane by you, to question my own sanity, to be utterly and completely helpless against your power. Bring it on, ___. I can handle everything you throw at me."

She tried to muster a defiant glare, but it failed under the weight of the emotions crashing through her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. "You're insufferable, you know that?" She said, her voice wavering slightly. "Damn you, Peepers, you and your damn devotion to me." She laughed softly. "I remember pushing you away constantly, then I fell for you, then we got married, and now you love me in an alternate timeline? Damn Commander, how desperate are you?" Her tone was mocking but soft, she loved to tease, even in moments like this. 

It was his turn to smirk, his eye glimmering with mischief. "Let's put it this way." He drawled, his tone laced with just a hint of smugness. "You could push me away a million times, and I'd still come back for more. As for how desperate I am?" He chuckled, his hand slipping to her waist, his grip tightening. "I'd walk through hell itself just to spend a single moment more at your side."

"Ugh." She groaned, rolling her eyes in a show of feigned annoyance. "Why do you have to be so damn romantic? Can't you be a normal, boring, apathetic commander for once in your life?" She shifted in his grip, her own hands coming to rest on his chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns across his firm muscles.

His lips curled into a lazy smile, his eye glittering with amusement. "Oh, you'd hate me if I was 'normal, boring, and apathetic,' honey." He pulled back just a fraction, just enough to look down at her with undeniable hunger in his gaze. "You love me more when I'm wild, passionate, and hopelessly devoted to you."

"Damn you." She muttered, her voice soft but lacking any real heat. "You always know just what to say, don't you?"

She tried to resist the pull of his stare, to keep up her usual facade of cool indifference, but it was hopeless. The heat in his eye was too damn intoxicating, the way he looked at her like he wanted to devour her made her shiver and her breath catch in her throat.

But they had to let go, for now.

"I know exactly what buttons to press, my dear." He murmured, his voice dropping to a low, seductive purr. He released her hips, his arms slowly encircling her waist, pulling her flush against him. He wanted her, gods, how he wanted her. But he knew he couldn't keep her, not yet. He leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear. "But don't worry." He whispered, his voice dripping with dark promises. "I'll get my hands on you again, and when I do, I'll make damn sure you never forget me." Then, a sigh. "But..."

And with that, they parted, for the final time.

She didn't protest as he released her, her body aching from the loss of contact. She wanted to lean into him, to hold onto him and never let go, but she didn't. Instead, she took a step back, her arms crossing over her chest in a protective gesture. It took everything she had not to reach out to him, but she had to stay strong. And a little humor didn't hurt. With a quick motion, she took out an imaginary planner from her pocket. "Hmm... how about 100 years from now? You free? I'm sure the universe will change it's course then." She smirked at him, that same infuriating smirk he learned to love.

He chuckled softly, leaning back against the wall behind his back. "Oh sure." He drawled, his own smirk mirroring hers. "100 years from now sounds perfect. I'll be sure to pencil it in." But then, a heavy sigh left his mouth once again. "Gods, ___, you have no idea how torturous it's going to be waiting for you."

As soon as the words left his mouth, she felt her heart constrict. She could hear the agony in his voice, the longing that was mirrored in her own heart. She forced herself to remain cool and collected, refusing to let him see how much his words affected her. "Oh, please." She retorted, but her tone was laced with a hint of vulnerability. "You'll survive, Commander. You always do."

He let out another bitter laugh. "Survive, yes." He said, his voice quiet and subdued. "But I won't be living. Not fully, at least. Not without you." He pushed off the wall and approached her, his steps slow and measured. He stopped directly in front of her, his eye meeting hers with a burning intensity. "You're the other half of me. Without you, I'm just... incomplete."

Then, another step back.

She could feel her heart aching at his words. The raw honesty in his voice, the vulnerability in his scarlet orb... it was almost too much to bear. She wanted to throw her arms around him, to tell him that she felt the same way, to beg him not to leave her again. But she couldn't. Not yet. So instead, she forced herself to maintain composed. "You're being dramatic." But her eyes, oh gods, her eyes betrayed her. "But we have a meeting planned, right?" The smirk coated her lips once more. "Well, not exactly a meeting, eternity with each other to look forward to."

He huffed, a mixture of amusement and frustration crossing his features. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." He reached out and took her hand, intertwining their fingers together. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he was afraid that he'd never get to do this again. "Eternity." He murmured, his voice filled with both longing and determination. "Can't come soon enough."

As his fingers wrapped around hers, she felt her heart skip a beat. Gods, she wanted to lean into him, to let him pull her into his arms and never let go. But, she refrained. Her eyes softened upon hearing his words, the pain of saying goodbye once more starting to take its toll on her. "Yeah." She whispered, her voice shaky. "Eternity. I'll... see you then, Commander."

At that he held her gaze for a moment, wanting to commit her face to memory. Her sharp features, her piercing eyes, her snarky smile... he would miss all of it.

He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "Until then." He murmured, his voice low and hoarse. "Take care of yourself, honey. And don't do anything too stupid." But then he rolled his eye, as if a realization dawned on him. "But I think being with Wander might make you even dumber than you already are."

Despite the pain clawing at her chest, she managed a snort of laughter. Even now, even with the weight of their looming separation heavy on both their shoulders, he still found time to tease her. "Shut up." She retorted, her voice only slightly wavering. "I'll be just fine. And as for being dumber... I guess you'll just have to wait about a hundred years to find out."

Peepers chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. He was going to miss her sharp tongue and quicker wit. He was going to miss her laugh, her smile, the way she scowled when he teased her... everything.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, reluctantly letting go. "I'm sure you will." He replied softly, then, he moved his hand in the air with his finger stuck out, as if contemplating something. "But if you do get into trouble, just ask yourself, 'what would Peepers do?'"

She smiled at his suggestion. Oh, grop, she was going to miss his voice, his touch, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing in the universe that mattered. But she bit back the lump in her throat, forcing herself to remain lighthearted. "And then do the exact opposite, right? Yeah, I think I can manage that just fine, Commander."

He laughed again, and shook his head fondly. She was as stubborn and defiant as ever. Even now, on the eve of their parting, she refused to show an ounce of vulnerability. He both admired and cursed her for it. But he knew he had to hold onto his own composure as well, at least for now. "That's my wife." He said softly. "Always doing the exact opposite of what I tell you to do."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. "Well, someone has to keep you on your toes, husband." She retorted, her voice a mix of playful and wistful. "If I just did what you said, you'd be dreadfully bored with me."

His eye glittered with a mixture of fondness and sadness. "Oh, honey, you could never bore me. Even if you tried."

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of the moment pressing down on them both. He wanted to say so many things, to tell her how much he would miss her, how much he loved her, but he couldn't. Not yet.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she forced herself to meet his gaze, her eyes filled with a blend of longing and pain. "Commander..." She whispered, her voice almost strangled. "I'll appear out of nowhere when you least expect it, like I always do." As she smiled, her brows furrowed from the sadness. But the truth was, neither of them knew when this universe would change into theirs. And in this one, she was Wander's other half.

He could see the cracks in her armor, the pain and longing in her eyes. It mirrored his own feelings so closely that it almost took his breath away. Damnit, don't break now, ___. Not now.

He reached out and gently cupped her cheek, his touch gentle and tender. "I'll be counting the days." He murmured, his voice hoarse. "I'll be counting every second. And when you appear... Grop, you better brace yourself, because I'm going to kiss you senseless."

Her breath hitched as he cupped her face, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest. Dammit, she didn't want to break. She couldn't. But then he spoke, his voice low and rough, filled with a mixture of longing and promise. And it was too much, damn it all, it was too damn much. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, and she had to bite down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. "Yeah, you better," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Or I'll kick your butt."

Peepers could see her fighting against her emotions, trying so hard to keep up her tough exterior. His heart ached at the sight, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss away all her pain. But he didn't. Instead, he managed a weak smile, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her cheek. "I wouldn't expect anything less, my dear second-in-command." He murmured. "Just promise me one thing." His eye darted over her features in a fond manner. "You'll be happy with Wander here, in this universe." Because Peepers, despite being a villain, saw her as his whole world. And he always made sure to make her happy when she was his.

She struggled to keep her emotions in check, to keep her voice steady, but it was a losing battle. His words, though, they were like a dagger to her heart. She knew he was right, she knew it, but the thought of spending eternity without him... it was gut-wrenching.  "Yeah..." She managed to say, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I'll be happy, Commander. As long as you're happy too."

He laughed softly at that, a bittersweet sound. "Don't worry about me." He said, his tone soft. "I'll survive. I'm damn good at that, remember?" His heart was breaking as he looked up at her, taking in every detail of her face, knowing it might be the last time he got to do so for a while. But he forced himself to stay strong, for her sake. "Now go." He whispered, his voice low. "Before I do something stupid and refuse to let you go again."

"My home. My everything."

Tears spilled silently down her cheeks as she looked down at him, her eyes mirroring the pain and longing in his. "I'm gonna miss you." She whispered, her voice trembling. "More than anything in this universe, I'm gonna miss you." She hugged his small frame, tight, one last time. Her sobs filling the room as she couldn't hold herself together anymore. "Because.. you're my home too. Everything I've ever wanted." She cried, her whole body trembling as she held him.

One last time.

His heart shattered as she clung to him, her sobs filling the air. His own tears threatened to spill as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. He buried his face into her hair, inhaling her scent, memorizing every sensation. "I'm gonna miss you too, honey." He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Every second, every minute, every damn day. You're the only thing that's ever made this universe worth something." He pulled back slightly, his hands cupping her face, his thumbs wiping away her tears. "But we'll have our happy ending, I know it."

Despite the pain ripping through her, she managed a small, watery smile at his words. His unwavering faith in their future, in them, was the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of heartbreak. She placed her hands over his, pressing them gently against her face. "Damn right we will." She whispered, every word shaky. "Nobody can keep us apart forever, not even the damn universe." And so she leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. "I love you."

He felt his heart skip a beat as she spoke those words, a lump forming in his throat. No matter how many times he heard her say it, it never failed to send goosebumps down his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her forehead against his, breathing in the scent of her hair like a drowning man gasping for air. "I love you too." He murmured, his voice hoarse. "Always have, always will."

His words, so simple yet so meaningful, filled her with both warmth and bitterness. The bittersweet knowledge that they'd be apart for what felt like an eternity, yet the comfort that their love was stronger than any distance or time. She pressed herself closer to him, as if trying to meld herself to his very being. She didn't want to let go, she couldn't let go. But she had to. No matter how hard it was.

Slowly, regretfully, she pulled back, her eyes locking with his one last time.

His heart ached as she pulled back, his hands instinctively reaching out to keep her close. He wanted to hold her, to stay by her side, to fight against this cruel fate that was tearing them apart. But he knew the harder he clung, the more it would hurt when they finally had to part. So he forced himself to let go, his hands falling to his sides. He looked at her one last time, committing her face to memory. The way her hair fell, the flecks of pain and love glimmering in her eyes, the small, bittersweet smile on her lips.

It hurt. 

Her heart was crying out, screaming for him not to let her go. Please don't let me go. Her instincts were screaming for her to stay as well, to throw herself back into his arms and never leave. But her common sense, the rational part of her, knew that it was better this way. If they stayed together for any longer, it would only make it harder. So, she took a shuddering breath, wiping away her tears. "See you later, Commander."

Peepers nodded, the beating muscle in his chest breaking as she spoke. He felt as if a part of him was being ripped away, leaving him hollow and empty. But he forced himself to remain stoic, his red orb betraying none of the emotions roiling beneath the surface. "See you later." He managed to say. "Not too long, I hope." He stepped back, his hands clenching at his sides. It took every ounce of his self-control not to run to her and pull her into his arms once more.

Please, she wanted to cry. Don't make this harder than it already is.

But she stayed silent, knowing that he was suffering just as much as she was. Instead, she gave him one last, tearful smile, trying to convey every ounce of love and fondness she felt for him. "Not too long," She echoed, her voice barely a whisper. "Counting the days, Commander."

And with that, she turned and walked away, her heart heavier than a leaden stone.

He watched her go, every step she took feeling like a knife to the heart. His hands remained clenched at his sides, the only outward sign of the turmoil roiling within him. He wanted to call out to her, to plead for her to stay just a moment longer. But he had promised himself he wouldn't make this any harder than it already was. He stood stock still until she disappeared from sight, walking out of the room and leaving him there, the silence around him feeling as cold and empty as his heart.

The moment he was alone, his mask of stoicism crumbled. The pain, the heartbreak, the loneliness came crashing down on him all at once, stealing the air from his lungs.

He sank to the ground, his head in his hands, and allowed himself to grieve for what he had lost, for what he might never have again. For a few moments, the only sound was his ragged breathing and the occasional sob that escaped his lips.

Why us? He thought. Why does the universe hate us so damn much?

He wanted to vent, to scream and shout and curse the fates, but he couldn't. He was a nonchalant man, he wasn't supposed to show weakness, he wasn't supposed to feel.

But he did. He loved, and he lost, and it hurt.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity, the pain and anguish washing over him like a tsunami. He tried to pull himself together, to regain his composure and become the strong, stoic commander once more. But it was too much. He was broken, shattered, his heart in a million pieces. He didn't know how long he sat there, time seemed meaningless without her.

Finally, after he didn't know how long, he managed to pull himself together. With a monumental effort, he pushed down the pain, shoving it deep into the blackest corners of his heart, where it could never be seen. He stood shakily, his eye hardening once more. He was the commander of the watchdog army and he would do what he did best: He would push on. He would survive.

But his heart would never be the same again.

Forever alone, in this universe.

The thought echoed in his mind, a dark, bleak refrain that matched his current mood. Without her, he was nothing. Just a small, lonely commander with a broken heart. But he couldn't dwell on that now. He had a universe conquer, a job to do. He pushed down the pain and grief, burying it beneath a thick layer of determination and resolve.

He was Commander Peepers, and he had work to do.

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Waiting.

The Librarians S03E08 And the Eternal Question.